As opposed to how I imagine it must seem to you, out there watching in TV or internet land, the season does not actually end when the final pair of cars go down the track on Sunday night in Pomona. It actually ends in stages.

First of all, it's Pomona, it's the Finals, and the finality of that is inescapable the whole long weekend, as you're constantly aware of where you are. There is a certain unique quality to the natural light, and the air, in Pomona. It's unmatched anywhere else on the tour, from the mountains in the distance to the warm glow as the sun sets somewhere out there, beyond the Pacific Ocean. It's So Cal, it's Pomona, and it's unlike anyplace else we race. So... For about five days you know it's the Finals, and you know the season is about to end.

Unless you win the race (we came close, but no cigar) your day ends before the race does. As soon as we lost in the semifinals, to Zippy, we all got to work. I crouched in my corner of the hospitality area, and Annette did me a HUGE favor by having everyone start to tear the area down at the front end, so that I didn't have awnings, banners, and privacy walls coming down around me. It's not easy to immediately seat yourself at a table in the middle of a noisy pit area and put into 1,200 words what just happened, but it's a thousand times harder when people are disassembling the world all around you, and you know you're not only in the way but also taking up a table and chair that need to be packed up.

Then, after hitting the "Send" button, I changed into a work t-shirt and joined the elephants tearing down the pit, for the last time in 2009. Somewhere well after dark, well after all the final rounds, and nearing what felt like the middle of the night (but it was actually only about 8:00) we were done. There was a big pit party out there, since Morgan Lucas picked up the baton from Del and all of us former Team CSK members who had hosted the mega-party forever, but I just didn't have it in me. Our guys said "C'mon, you gotta come hang with us for a little bit," and all I could say was "Dude, I helped invent that party. Been there, been through it, been sucked-in by the vortex it creates like a black hole you can't escape, and tonight I'm going to bed."

On Monday morning, I drove back over there, just to get a look at the surreal scene that is the pro pit area on the morning after.

If you're wondering why I'm not mentioning a photo gallery, it's because I'm pressed for time and need to get to LAX to catch my flight home. We'll have reams of pics to look at all the rest of this week, I promise, including one of the worn-out looking pro pit area!

So, the season was over, but it wasn't over. I had to hop on the ubiquitous LA freeway system and drive to Century City, just east of Santa Monica, for the Awards Ceremony last night. I had time to kill, so I took the long slow route, down through Anaheim and then over to the Pacific Coast Highway near Redondo Beach, up through Hermosa Beach, Manhattan Beach, and El Segundo. Knowing I'd soon be heading home to Minnesota for the winter, I put the windows down, opened the sunroof, and basked in all the glory that is Southern California and the PCH. Another totally unique area, and it is so much of everything I think of when I think of So Cal. I even ended up passing through a bit of Hawthorne, Calif., where the Beach Boys all grew up, just to put the perfect bow on my mini-tour of the lower left coast.

Then, here to the Hyatt, into my room, then shortly after that into my monkey suit for the show. We all mingled, we laughed, we shared a lot of hugs, and all the stories and the pics will be forthcoming later this week. And Rachel Wilkerson looked FABULOUS!

Now, it's Tuesday. Is it over? No, because I still have to check out, get to the airport, turn the car in, get checked in for my flight, get through security, get on my flight, sit strapped to a seat for three hours, get my luggage at MSP's eternally slow baggage claim area, get to my car, and drive home. Then, once I walk in through the door from our garage, kiss my wife who I haven't seen in three weeks, and rub my little buddies Boofus and Buster, then... It will be over.

Much more to come, I promise. So many stories to tell and photos to share. I'll leave you with this view out of my 9th floor window at the Hyatt, looking eastward through a building that is designed to have the whole center part of it missing. Beverly Hills to my left, Hollywood in the distance, and LAX isn't too far away. Time to go home...

Wilber, out!