On a nice warm sunny day last september Sylvan and I went to his father in laws house to visit. Next thing you know, were breaking in his go-carts and the track. The track was in a horse field. Not many laps were taken so the path was marked by tires spaced about 30 feet apart. Sylvan and I set out to make a trail....in which I believe we succeded. We hopped on these new millenium type of go-carts...disc brakes, roll cage (hehe), reverse, horn....etc. I'd call them go-carts on steroids. Sylvan and I buckled up and set out to do our deed. When we started out we were just cruising, the go-carts were brand new so they wernt too fast. I was thinking it would take hours for them to get fast. Suddenly, Sylvan pulled a dirty manuver and almost knocked me into the tires. His trickery brought the demon out in me. It was on! I mashed the gas to the floor...I couldnt catch up. Mashed a little harder and still didnt catch up until about two laps later. Next thing I knew I passed Sylvan so fast I didnt have time to cut him off into a tire. On the far corner of the track theres a sharp turn. I kept trying to do a half donut but the go-cart wasnt fast enough....unti l I passed Sylvan. Next thing I know I'm flying. The go-cart is broke in! The bitch is flying! As the sharp turn approches I gear up for the doughnut! As I hit the turn the left half of the go-cart leaves the ground and I roll over. Kinda hard. Roll cage and 5 point harness worked! Although the roll was hard I didnt even roll 360...or even a 180 for that matter. Sylvan acted like the rescue team at the drag strip. He stopped and came to help with fire extinguisher in hand. After he put the fire out I wiped the soot from my eyes and we rolled the go-cart back on it's four wheels. I started it up and drove to the starting point and parked it.
