I’m throwing it back to some of my very favorite memories. Before life got crazy, I got to often tag along with my Dad to Road Atlanta on his driver’s school weekends. My first trip was in 1995 and I remember it so vividly.

 

If I could guess the year, I would say it was around 1993 that I remember my Dad’s first BWM purchase (that was made during my lifetime). I can’t even tell you what model it was, but it was grey and the smell that came out of the AC vents made me want to puke, but riding in that car was exhilarating. I remember it being parked next to the stairs that led to our back porch on Shadowrock Drive. It was NOT the car that we used as home base when we played baseball.

 

From then to today, my Dad has had cars come and go. I have certain memories from each car that make me smile. The M6 that had the cooler in the back seat…no we were not allowed to have food or drinks in that car. The 1600 that made the lovely backfiring sound as it came down the hill into turn 12 at Road Atlanta…and was never running on Sundays. The red M3 that we took a fun little spin in at turn 1—tuck your fingers in from the roll cage!

 

Spending this time with my Dad is a huge part of my life. I remember the very first Nascar race we watched together—in the basement at the Farmbrook house. Rusty Wallace won the race and when he was being interviewed at the end of the race, he was asked the question, “What do you plan to do now that you’ve won?” Rusty’s answer…”What do you think? I’m sponsored by a beer company!” Outside of Nascar, we went to many Petit Le Mans races. Shhhh don’t tell anyone but he helped me “acquire” some really great signs from one of the races we went to at Road Atlanta. My Dad really prefers watching F1 racing. So much so, that he would wake up at ungodly hours to watch the races on Sunday mornings in the kitchen outside of my room. Gee, thanks for that Dad.

 

Anyways, to wrap up this throwback flood of memories, I want to say thanks Dad. Thanks for not only teaching me to appreciate cars and their power, but also teaching me things that most Dads don’t take the time to teach their daughters. Thanks for teaching me about timing belts, how to change my tires, different types of gasoline, how to detail my car {make sure to vacuum the seams in the interior!}, and even helping me “customize” my stupid upgrades to my car in high school. I hope that my daughter is lucky enough to have her Grandaddy teach her these things that are typically only taught to little boys.

 

I Love You Dad.