The machine, the trophies, the fans, and the team! Much picture taking and celebration later, in the stands, on the podium, and back at the race tent in the pits, it was, sadly, time to say goodbye. We would leave with nothing but fond memories!
That's me, right on the racetrack! History was made here, today, and I am not referring to the pictures immediately above!
The Cerbies looked just gorgeous in the fading sunlight.
As we were leaving the parking lot, I spied Finian and Ben's Cerbies going off and I couldn't resist missing my exit and overtaking Finian and inserting my plucky little rented Ford Focus between his car and Ben's. Ben took off like a scalded cat, the Cerbie's exhaust shocking every Belgian out of his waffle-induced stupor for miles! I chased after him for a bit, but common sense prevailed, so I hung a tight u-turn, waved goodbye to the O-Boyles, and came back to the correct road. An uneventful journey to Calais (well we got lost about a dozen more times, tailed a Porsche doing 120 for miles, etc. but it was all part of the plan of not wanting to wait around at the ferry terminal), a smooth beer-laden crossing, more Gatso-flash-riddled driving back to London, 3 hours of sleep, M25 madness on Monday morning to Gatwick (3 accidents, 2 Chimaera's spotted, one V8s), and it was time to dump the poor rental car off. 1500 miles in 3 days, and it showed!
It was finally time to catch the plane home. There was a baby screaming on my left, and the only time I fell asleep, the lady on my right tapped me on my shoulder to tell me that I didn't have my seatbelt fastened. But nothing could keep me from smiling stupidly at my great weekend!!!!