Only in small town America can one experience drag racing down Main Street on Friday night. VST was a mechanical guy, plain and simple. Starting on any topic regarding automobiles, he could talk for hours. It would have been impossible to avoid absorbing mechanical knowledge while being married to him for 32 years while farming 17 of those. VST was a legend in the world of John Deere Tractors. Farmers from every part of the San Joaquin Valley in Central California knew of his expertise. He was the guy they called.
After a nice meal in town, I drove down Main Street, headed home. On either side of the road, small groups of people were gathering with lawn chairs and ice chests. Kids waved at us as we rolled down the street, barely reaching the speed limit. By the time i arrived at the stop light, a man was preparing a table and loud speakers for music. The local radio station would be broadcasting. Something big was about to go down.
With a skillful U-turn, I returned to Main Street and found a place to park. It still wasn’t clear what I was waiting for. Maybe an early Memorial Day parade? Lighted car parade? It was clear that an event would start soon. I was ready with a front row seat parked just West of the Fire Department on an empty lot. Only a sidewalk separated me from Main Street.
With curiosity brewing, I texted K to see if she knew what was about to happen. Funny, Facebook allows users to know everything before it ever occurs. Being old fashioned, I often to call K and ask her for updates in my little town 6 hours away. This had her stumped, too. Nothing was announced on town’s Facebook page “Chit, Chat, All About That”. So, I waited.
The group across the street from us was a prolific bunch, with at least eight kiddos under eight, and a couple more in strollers. Several parents were obviously enjoying their time with each other. Little ones were riding their small bikes up and down a wheelchair ramp leading to a small business. Totally joyous, it was testimony to how lonely and isolated everyone has been. Just visiting in a parking lot was reason to celebrate.
In the same parking lot, there sat a RAT car. Rusted, it looked like a mix-matched concoction of parts from many different old cars. Very wide tires in the back, smaller ones in the front. The car was small, resembling a rat, as well. It’s owner fit the car and my town. After a few minutes of visiting, the RAT car peeled out of the parking lot onto the street in front of us. Coming to a complete stop, it’s engine roared to life. All at once, the tires were burning rubber, until, we were choking on the thick black smoke. It then zoomed off at a high rate of speed, made an erratic U-turn and zoomed back towards us again. It’s comical appearance didn’t quite fit the power under the hood and the skill of the driver’s performance.
In the middle of a car show that started at that very moment, I waved and laughed as every kind of car you could think of cruised by. Not all at a high rate of speed, some just drove the speed limit. People were out to show off their rides and I was lucky to sit and watch. Cars from every decade drove by. Some muscle cars raced right by me right down Main Street. The best part was that everyone enjoying the night was having fun. No masks. No social distancing. No thoughts of deadly viruses or the horror of the last year. Just people enjoying the fresh desert air on a lovely spring evening. Visible smiles and lots of laughs enjoyed by everyone.
As the sun set behind Kathmandu, a few Jeeps turned on lighted flag poles mounted on their bumpers. There were cars with hydraulic lifts, and some drivers that nearly lost control of their rides. There were cars that were smeared with Bondo Body Filler, and others that had been perfectly restored to show room glory, even though they might have been a 1954 Bel Air or a 1964 Corvette. A show like no other, with the prize of a cheering crowd won by all.
At one point, a young father and two small kids parked on our side of the street. Immediate screaming began, coming from a pint-sized tornado, yelling to her little girlfriend across the street. Nothing would quiet this little diva. She wanted what she wanted right now. Her friend. Dad quietly walked his pre-K daughter down to the cross walk and across the street to see her bestie. They both ran full speed ahead and locked into each other’s arms. An adorable show of affection that added to the beauty of the night. I wondered how many years these two pint-sized besties would enjoy such a beautiful and pure friendship.
For a couple of hours, in the high desert of Northwestern Nevada, there was a happening. It didn’t make the news. In fact, it didn’t even make Facebook. But, it will remain in my memory as I watched cars drive up and down Main Street.
Always beware of crowds forming on the sides of your home town street. Pull over and wait for a bit. You just never know when a RAT might be coming to your town for a perfect Friday night cruise down Main.