Matt and I first learned of Ricky Bobby while we were stranded on a ferry wait, Friday Harbor, Orcas Island, Washington. We'd spent the weekend there, headed home in the ferry line, our car was the first one that DID NOT get on. A three hour wait, sitting in the car? Oh no, we took in whatever movie was playing, just around the corner. It was Talladega Nights, and I was not thrilled. But we laughed, and we laughed, in fact, we laughed all the way home on the ferry. I bought the DVD, and whenever any grandkid came to visit, we'd watch the antics of Ricky Bobby, again, and again. We even watched in in French! What a hoot!
Today, we are in Ricky Bobby Land. We're stopping at the speedway, riding around the track, listening to the stories of the races run, the infield brawls, the positioning of the cameras for the making of the movie, how they got their crowd. We had to imagine the noise; it was very quiet today. But fun.
The collection of cars in the museum is awesome, and if you've got money to spare, they can certainly accommodate you in the gift shop. The best part of the trip though, was when we stopped to gas up as we headed back to the freeway. The Official Pace Car was at the next pump!