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DCaraviello's blog

Welcome to Daytona

Thursday February 14, 2008 @ 10:57 AM EST

Whenever I roll through the tunnel at Daytona Internataional Speedway on twins day, I can’t help but think of the first time I covered a race at this track. It was for the two qualifying events in 2000, and I was as lost as lost could be.

Nothing could prepare me for how big the track was, how confusing the infield was, and hard it was for a first-timer to find his way around. I picked my way to media parking, got out of the car, grabbed my laptop bag—and proceeded to wander around the infield for over an hour, unable to find any media facility.

Granted, the media center back then was very small. But even so, I should have been able to find it without wandering through the driver/owner lot, past the care center, over to Lake Lloyd, and down the length of the garage. The security and parking folks were as clueless as I was. “Where’s the press area?” I remember asking a security guard alongside pit road. “Over there,” he said, pointing to the press box atop the main grandstand. Then-Busch cars were zipping along during a practice session. I thought: How am I supposed to get over there with all these cars on the track?

Luckily, after nearly 90 minutes, I found another writer who took pity on me and led me to the infield compound, which at the time was as cramped and crowded as the last chopper out of Saigon. So when they announced that we could cross the track to the more spacious press box, I obliged—not knowing that, because of truck practice, we wouldn’t be able to get back cross after the event. That led to another hour on foot, down through the tunnel, and back around to where my car was parked in the infield.

Rest assured, today’s commute went much more smoothly. But I have to ask—what’s the deal with speedway officials blocking off the old tunnel approach, across from Bill France Jr. Drive? Now you’ve got to make a right turn on the airport road and double back, and that right backs up to Cocoa Beach. I had to wedge my way into line in front of a pickup truck bigger than my house. But at least this time, I knew where I was going.

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