All American Soap Box Derby Time

Today was Soap Box Derby day in my little town.  Thanks to Better Half, I didn't miss it.  He was detoured from his regular bicycle route by the race.  His loss, my gain.

The long hill on which the race took place was festooned with straw bales, a real live starting gate, and orange protective fencing, lending it a festive air.  Legions of dedicated race volunteers were on hand to coordinate the event.  Fans camped out under canopies in the noon day sun from which they cheered on their favorite competitor. Vendors were on hand to offer food and drink.

But . . . the stars of the show were the young racers.

In the starting gate

And crossing the finish line.

 

 

Intent on the task before them,

Expressing a little frustration at the bottom of the hill.

Patiently waiting their turn, 

Looking calm,

Discussing race strategy

Hunkered down, goggles in place and ready to roll.

Silently gliding down the hill, save for the clickety-clicking of the wheels.

Relief at having safely negotiated the course.

Monster machines,

Neon machines

All outfitted with the same simple wheel.

To the victor would go the trophies,

though, in my view,

each one of these young people is a winner.

This is Little Bear.  He is an English Mastiff. 

He was huge, but incredibly gentle.  He was cheering on one of the competitors.. 

Hurray for the All-American Soap Box Derby tradition!