|Eventually the drivers
were called up to register and final, desperate adjustments were made to
the wagon. With baling wire and chewing gum the doors, hood, and bumpers
were bound into place. Tension was mounting in the dusty air as Danny donned
his helmet and strapped himself in behind the wheel of the wagon.
The August sun was low in the western sky as the battle chariots were lined up for the first heat. One by one they growled and grumbled into the muddy arena. The stands were packed to overflowing with fans of automotive destruction from all over the county. Young and old, locals and students waited anxiously for the demolition to begin.
Then the magic words
echoed out across the fairgrounds: "...five, four, three, two, one...LET'S
|After a solid hit
on a wayward opponent Danny wound up for another strike on his victim.
At the last moment the wounded prey managed to limp out of reach. With
a full commitment to his intended punch, Danny was unable to keep his momentum
from thrusting the ADR wagon over the boundry pole. The machine snagged
on the log and was unable to compete further in the heat.
We were down but not yet out. In true Appalachian Death Ride fashion there was still a shot at the prize through the 'Consolation Heat', a wild-card chance for vehicles not yet completely immobilized. With visions of revenge and a taste for blood, Danny withdrew the the ADR battlecar to the pits to prepare for the next altercation.