When you’re a kid, life is about a few choice things: candy, planes and cars. Or at least, that’s how it was for me. Of these three things, a kind of boyhood triptych, I could never get enough. And imagine all little boys’ dismay when the first learn that they will have to wait until they are 16 to drive a car. Of course, that didn’t stop some of us (dad, I now have to confess, my friends and I borrowed the car that weekend when I was fourteen). Yes, well.
One way that we satisfied our driving dreams when we were small was to go to a nearby go cart track in…Reseda or something, I think it was…and to spend hours speeding around a squished oval, racing one another in what were little more than supped up lawn mowers. But oh, man, where those lawn mowers fun. We’d try to make the other guy crash often to great success. Just thinking about it now makes me want to run someone off the road.
All of this is to say that that same feeling of childish glee can still be experienced. Where you ask? Well, there might just be a go carting place near you, but this story discusses one in