Rewind with me back to the very first “Bark’s Bites” column ever, a recap of the day after my Boss Track Attack experience in 2013. There are some points to add here—the “bar” was actually a strip club where barely concealed prostitution was widely occurring. Also, the paragraph about the “crazy drunk bitches” actually happened, but we decided to not include it in the original post, because it was actually US chasing THEM at 110 MPH because they pretended to stop with the intent of helping us, but then drove away laughing at pointing.
Salt Lake City is the most unique major metropolis in America. As somebody who travels for a living, who has visited nearly every state in the union, and who has just spent 72 hours in the capital of Utah this week, I feel qualified to make this statement.
It’s home to the spectacular Miller Motorsports Park, which is easily the most versatile motorsports facility in America. Every single person in the city is friendly-even the homeless man who helped me parallel park my 15-mile-on-the-odometer rental Chevy Captiva downtown. It’s virtually impossible to get drunk here-due to the seemingly 100% Mormon population, it’s illegal to sell a double, and the beer can’t be any more than 4% alcohol by volume. Upon my ascent to the highest lookout in the city, Ensign Trail, I was greeted by dozens of happy young college students who were debating the specific intent of biblical passages.
Clearly, I needed to get the f*** out of there.
Solution: head to the Bonneville Salt Flats Speedway, a hundred miles away and very close to the Nevada border.