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Fan's Eye View ~ On The Dover Road05/28/2015 |
The Town Of Barclay, With The Town Hall On The Right
It all usually started about 6:00AM on Friday morning. Sure, there was planning and prep work in the days leading up to it, but Friday was the day. My friend Nate and his wife would drive to my house in their van, and they’d get there right as I was just about done loading whatever vehicle I would be using. (At last count, it was ten different vehicles over the years.) Nate would fire up the van and I get my whatever going and we’d make a quick stop at the Royal Farm store for ice and whatever bad-for-you breakfast food we wanted. I was always partial to those pecan swirls that you can unroll and eat in little strips. After the coolers were iced and the vehicles fueled, it was time to head down Route 97 until we hit Route 50, and crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge on our way to Dover.
The sun would come up more and more as we’d drive along, forcing us to adjust the visors on our cars as we drove past farmland open fields. No matter what time of year, early June for the spring race or September for the fall race, there was always a lot of mist in the fields as we passed, and sometimes it was downright foggy, so much one time that we actually missed the turn from Route 301 to Route 302. Yes, that actually happened, and we lost about 15 minutes circling back to correct our path.
Once we made the turn off of the highway, it was mostly a two lane road. About 10 or so minutes in, we’d stumble across this little town that we always found so funny. The town is called Barclay, and probably has a population of about 47 people. “Main Street,” or what is the main street, consists of about a dozen houses and a few small businesses, and this was the funny part, the Town Hall. The Town Hall is slightly larger than a shed you might have in your back yard. I’m pretty sure that if something went up for a vote, the voting had to be done in shifts.
The sun would come up more and more as we’d drive along, forcing us to adjust the visors on our cars as we drove past farmland open fields. No matter what time of year, early June for the spring race or September for the fall race, there was always a lot of mist in the fields as we passed, and sometimes it was downright foggy, so much one time that we actually missed the turn from Route 301 to Route 302. Yes, that actually happened, and we lost about 15 minutes circling back to correct our path.
Once we made the turn off of the highway, it was mostly a two lane road. About 10 or so minutes in, we’d stumble across this little town that we always found so funny. The town is called Barclay, and probably has a population of about 47 people. “Main Street,” or what is the main street, consists of about a dozen houses and a few small businesses, and this was the funny part, the Town Hall. The Town Hall is slightly larger than a shed you might have in your back yard. I’m pretty sure that if something went up for a vote, the voting had to be done in shifts.
The Small Town Of Hartly
Once you get through Barclay, which takes you about 40 seconds (and for goodness sake, do NOT go 31 miles per hour through that 30 MPH zone…), it was always nice country side again. One of the side orders of a nice platter of country side driving, however, is there will tend to be some wildlife. There’s usually an unfortunate deer, squirrel, opossum, or various other animal, but every now and then, we’d have a treat. A skunk may have marked some territory nearby or have been the sad victim of animal versus machine, and the musky scent was just accentuated by the warming air making the unfortunate passersby wrinkle a nose or two.
Once we had traveled along 302 for a while, we used to make that left onto 454 at Templeville, which was a nice 90 degree-er. In recent years, though, we went straight through that turn and on down the road, until he hit another small town, called Hartly. The biggest thing is Hartly is the fire department, which is housed in a bright new shiny building. Turning right onto Hartly Road (what else would they call it?), we followed it as it would wind back and forth for a while, slightly allowing you to increase your speed little by little.
Once we had traveled along 302 for a while, we used to make that left onto 454 at Templeville, which was a nice 90 degree-er. In recent years, though, we went straight through that turn and on down the road, until he hit another small town, called Hartly. The biggest thing is Hartly is the fire department, which is housed in a bright new shiny building. Turning right onto Hartly Road (what else would they call it?), we followed it as it would wind back and forth for a while, slightly allowing you to increase your speed little by little.
Our turn for the camp site, and it's cloudy, too
Civilization followed, though, as Hartly Road would dump you out into a place called Pearson’s Corner. (I never did find out if it was named for the Silver Fox…) Pearson’s Corner went on for a little bit and then it was back to some empty roads, but those roads are getting less and less empty, because Dover keeps growing and growing, and that is what’s next on the map. This is the area where you start to feel it…NASCAR is in town! Those “Welcome Race Fans” banners are on every liquor store and convenience store in town. (We used to make a habit out of eh….”collecting” those banners, but that’s a different story.) Then there was always that one house or two with home made plywood signs, some saying “Tickets For Sale” and some saying “I Need Tickets.” (Y’all ever think about getting that together?) There are streamers flying, and those marquee boards that restaurants and stores have are loaded with race related greetings and notes. (I have to tell you, I saw one on a storage place in north Dover once that said “Anybody But Johnson.”)
Once we turned off of Route 8 and onto 13 North, we were almost home free, as that was where the Dover track was located. As we came up over the small rise and around the bend, we could see the grandstands towering above all else in the distance. We rarely set foot onto the Speedway grounds, though, until Sunday for the race. Our turn came about a mile before the entrance to the track, always marked by a Home Depot and a Pizza Hut. We’d get ourselves through the discount merchandise tents that popped up all along Leipsic Road. My Dad used to call them “The Banditos.” They have some older merchandise that they bought at a deep discount, and sometimes you can find some older cool stuff, especially if you’re a new fan, and you weren’t aware that Keven Harvick once drove for GM Goodwrench, or Kyle Busch drove for Kellogg’s.
Once we turned off of Route 8 and onto 13 North, we were almost home free, as that was where the Dover track was located. As we came up over the small rise and around the bend, we could see the grandstands towering above all else in the distance. We rarely set foot onto the Speedway grounds, though, until Sunday for the race. Our turn came about a mile before the entrance to the track, always marked by a Home Depot and a Pizza Hut. We’d get ourselves through the discount merchandise tents that popped up all along Leipsic Road. My Dad used to call them “The Banditos.” They have some older merchandise that they bought at a deep discount, and sometimes you can find some older cool stuff, especially if you’re a new fan, and you weren’t aware that Keven Harvick once drove for GM Goodwrench, or Kyle Busch drove for Kellogg’s.
Miles The Monster
Once we got past The Banditos, we would look to our left and see the Monster Plaza, a gigantic fan zone complete with a giant concrete monster holding a full size stock car. Then we would cross the bridge over US 1, and make that left hander and head about a half mile down the road. That’s where we’d go to camp for so many years, in Mrs. Pat’s backyard. Reasonably priced, she has spot-a-pots, water if you need it, ice, and trash removal. Perfect! Anyway, once we paid our dues, we’d find a spot to camp. The first thing I’d do is crack open a beer…and this would be at about 8:30 in the morning. We’d set up camp, and then just sit around and relax. It was beautiful. We had to conserve our energy though, as we’d recently met some campers who came to Dover every year, too, just like us. However, they were much younger than we were and their batteries were more charged than ours were!
So for two days, we’d play ladderball, or beer pong, or throw the football, but mostly we just sat around and talked. And then on Sunday, we’d go see the race, and when it was over, it was back to the campsite. Now, most folks had packed up and gotten on the road, headed back to their real lives. We’d stay the night again, though, and sit by a quiet fire. Then in the morning it was our turn to pack up, and we’d make the trip in reverse. Dover, Pearson’s Corner, Hartly, Templeville, Barclay, Rt 301, Rt 50, Chesapeake Bay Bridge, Rt 97,….home. And then, we’d do it all again the following year, just like we will this September as we take The Dover Road one more time.
So for two days, we’d play ladderball, or beer pong, or throw the football, but mostly we just sat around and talked. And then on Sunday, we’d go see the race, and when it was over, it was back to the campsite. Now, most folks had packed up and gotten on the road, headed back to their real lives. We’d stay the night again, though, and sit by a quiet fire. Then in the morning it was our turn to pack up, and we’d make the trip in reverse. Dover, Pearson’s Corner, Hartly, Templeville, Barclay, Rt 301, Rt 50, Chesapeake Bay Bridge, Rt 97,….home. And then, we’d do it all again the following year, just like we will this September as we take The Dover Road one more time.
Until next time, my friends...
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