Sublime one said

Scott, that is a great pix!
Looking at that I can just almost feel the rumble of the motor thru the seat as I reach over and click on my little fan. Going thru my mental checklist preparing for my turn in burn out box. The guy ahead of me moves up to stage. It is really starting to get hot in here, and I can smell the un burnt av gas wafting thru the floor boards and lexan, attacking my eyes and nose as I idle. The track official gives me the thumbs up to move into the box. I look forward, double checking my line, I look over to see who is lined up against me, yep a slow deep stage guy! It will be a 180 degrees in here before we launch, argh. The sweat trickles down my forehead and into my eyes, I wipe it away with my gloved hand that reeks of oil. I silently think to myself why are scents so pronounced when I wear my helmet? Which immediately brings to mind the smell of the helmet, which I can only equate to the underside of a saddle. I start my staging process ritual, next thing I know the nice lady is holding my ticket out for me as I roll down return road, door open, helmet bouncing against the roll bar, trying desperately to get some fresh cool air. The pass was a blur, I don’t even remember side stepping the clutch!
That Sir is what that picture looks like to me.
What a thread, thanks so much.

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