Sometimes it seems like you have a race car that could've beaten them all, except the one guy you had to race. Like I said, sometimes it seems like that, but every now and then it actually is like that, and Sunday in Brainerd was one of those days. After struggling with a car that was just plain slow during qualifying, we entered the race 15th, but Tim had that funny little twinkle in his eye, and that little glimmer of a smile, along with a slight nod, spoke volumes, even as we dodged the rain drops and got out of there on Saturday. What "the look" said was: "We fixed it."

On Sunday morning we had more delays and rain drops, and even though the boss was very confident he'd fixed the issue that was slowing us down, we were still going out there sort of blind, trying to pick up a huge amount of e.t. in one big swing. When you just qualified with a 4.32 and have to race Ron Capps in round one, you know you're going to need to jump higher than an Olympic pole vaulter to take him out, and it's just not that easy to turn the knobs and dial a 4.11 or a 4.12 into a car that just ran 4.32 on its last lap. We were kinda swinging for the fences, a bit, but that's how Tim works. Easing into a 4.20 would've been a lot simpler, but a 4.20 would only beat Ron Capps if he had trouble, and we never plan to win with that strategy. So, we went for it.

Basically, the boss, the crew, and the car were all flawless. When you run 4.12 and lose to a 4.11, you smile and walk away with your head high. When the 4.12 would've beaten every other car in the field, you don't dwell on it or pout, you know you have a great race car. When it ends up being not just the second-quickest run of the round, or the day, but the whole event, you quietly shift gears to the next race and get a few goosebumps, because you know you have your bad-ass hot rod again. And that's exactly how we all felt.

When the racing is that tight (and it's been tight for us all year) you can't expect all of the side-by-side ones to go your way. Let's not forget, we won eight laps in a row in Seattle and Sonoma, and almost all of them were extremely close races. We beat the Tasca boys by six-thousandths of a second in Sonoma, in a race that almost looked like a tie on the instant replay. This time, the margin of victory was again six-thousandths, but it went the other way. That's racin'... What would've stunk would be to have smoked the tires and lost 4.29 to 4.30.

So, basically that's how it all went down on Sunday. Looking back over the Brainerd weekend, the things that stand out are the weather, the company, the food, and Tim's magnificent effort out there in round one. Plus, he was as terrific as ever on NHRA Race Day, Sunday morning. We walked up to the set with umbrellas, and since you had to wade through huge mud puddles to get backstage, Krista and I just stayed out in front with the sign-waving crowd, enjoying how absolutely comfortable Tim is on-camera. As my Barbara says "He's great because he's just so real." That he is.

As for the weather... Well, it just plain (insert favorite negative and derogatory word here). All of us Minnesotans were saying "We picked a fine time to finally have summer" all weekend, and basically the atmosphere ranged from lousy to downright miserable, as the humidity stayed near 100 percent for a lot of the race. The freaky part about it all was that the weather we got wasn't part of some big front or a line of storms. We did get one storm that came through as your classic north/south frontal line, showing up as green, yellow, and red on the radar, but once that was gone the radar basically showed nothing. You could stare at the screen all you wanted, and according to radar there was no rain within 100 miles of us, but one look at the puddles on the ground told you a different story. It's hard to prognosticate, or even get ready to race, when there's no way of knowing when, or if, it will ever stop.

Sunday was a bear as well, because it finally stopped misting just after we were supposed to have started the race. They got the track dry, and called Top Fuel and Funny Car to the lanes, and we all made the long trek up to the starting line area. Just then, the first drops fell again, and we all made the dash back to the pits. We got wet, but those who dallied a little got soaked, as another paranormal "ghost" rain shower blanketed the area, despite the fact the radar image showed that it did not exist at all. A couple of hours later, we finally got to run. Then, 4.12 seconds after the LRS car left the starting line, our day and our weekend were over.

All in all, though, we had a great time in Brainerd, despite the lousy weather and unfortunate outcome. Our guests, many of whom were family and friends from Minnesota, had a wonderful time, and the food (thanks to Shorty, Dave, and Annette) was unbelievable. We had lasagna, chicken alfredo, salads, tacos, pulled pork, chicken & wild rice soup, a hearty eggs & potatoes Sunday breakfast, a purely Minnesotan "hot dish" of potatoes and vegetables, and so many other great things I can't even remember it all now. Basically, we were eating like royalty all weekend, and as Krista and both I said on Sunday afternoon, "I could get used to this." We can't, though, because this one-time-only menu won't be repeated again (until next year, hopefully), but it sure was nice for three days. And I only gained 57 pounds!

Once we got back after our first-round loss, we kept everything status quo for another round of racing, then we all pitched in to tear down the circus. With Barbara and Nichol with us, along with Dave and Nichol's kids Alexa and Justin (and a whole crew of Justin's buddies), as well as numerous family members from both sides of the Jacobsen family, we had plenty of help. In a blink, we went from our full hospitality set up with everyone eating one final delicious meal to having it all torn down like it never existed.

Then, right before the final round, Barbara and I departed to go do something special. I'm not saying that the Red Roof Inn (formerly the Ramada Inn, and before that formerly the Holiday Inn) wasn't nice, but it really wasn't very nice (I'm just sayin'...). I can survive well enough in shabby surroundings, but on Saturday, when thinking of putting my wife through two nights in that place, I came up with the idea of staying at one of the area resorts on Sunday night.

There are a number of great resorts on the nearby lakes, and the Grand View Lodge is one of the best. They were sold out, of course, right through Saturday night, but we were able to secure a wonderful cabin-style room, on the golf course, for Sunday, and we were both REALLY looking forward to that. The place would have ranked as spectacular no matter when we stayed there, but coming one night after the Red Roof, it seemed like the ultimate lap of luxury. We had a huge living area, a massive stone fireplace, a gigantic king-sized bed on a frame made of logs, a full kitchen, an enormous jacuzzi, and a bathroom that was bigger than some hotel rooms I've stayed in. It was perfect!

Once we got there, and cleaned up, we headed down the road to another of our favorite spots in the Brainerd Lakes area for dinner. The Sherwood Forest Inn is a couple of miles down the road from the Grand View, but it's part of the Lodge and it's such a spectacular place to have dinner I'm not sure I can adequately describe it. From the outside, it looks like a small log cabin, but inside it features one large dining room and two long porches, all set up for an elegant dinner. The building is made of logs, and some of the main beams are full tree trunks that have to be 48 inches in diameter. It's truly a jaw-dropping place, but it wouldn't be as good as it is if the service and food weren't on a par with the atmosphere.

I save the word "sublime" for use only after dinners that truly rank among the best I've ever had. Dinner at the Sherwood Forest Inn was sublime. Period. We both had filet mignon (mine with bernaise and asparagus, Barb's with peppercorn sauce), and everything about the meal was a 10 on 10-scale. Perfect. So perfect, we hated to see it end.

All good things must come to an end, though, and that includes wonderful dinners, so it was back to Lodge for a wonderfully good night's sleep. On Monday morning, we got up and both did some work, finally leaving the Lodge around 10:00. Grand View is about 11 miles north of the track, so we had to drive right back by BIR on the way toward the Twin Cities. We were in two cars, since Barb had driven up there on Saturday, and once we passed the track and saw how many race team rigs, motorhomes, and campers were still pouring out of the place (so many they still had the State Troopers directing traffic as if the race had just ended), I made the call to take an alternate route home.

Most of that traffic was going to be heading down Hwy 371 back to Route 10 and then to I-94, so you knew it was going to be slow going on that route, which is the most direct and most popular. We stopped at McDonald's to have a Sausage McMuffin while we strategized, and I explained to Barb that I thought we should head straight east out of Brainerd, over to Lake Mille Lacs, and once we got there we'd buck the averages even more by going around the north shore of the lake, instead of heading south along the western shore. We'd go all the way around to the eastern side, then stay on little Highway 18 until we came to I-35, about 80 miles due north of the Twin Cities.

As it turned out, that plan worked like a charm, and we hardly slowed down the whole way, often going miles without seeing another car. The trip around Mille Lacs was beautiful, and since the north shore of the lake is less of tourist area and more just full of privately owned lake cabins, it was almost serene. And the owners of those cabins take it upon themselves to put signs out by the road, with either their names on the sign or the name they've given their cabin. We saw cabins called "Northern Chaos" and "AARP Heaven" and a family that designated themselves "The Scalliwags"... Just reading the names and laughing made the trip all the more enjoyable.

As an added bonus once we got on I-35, Barb had a straight shot to her office in downtown St. Paul (she had to go to work for the afternoon) by staying on 35E after the interstate split into 35E and 35W (which goes to Minneapolis). At 2:00, I was home.

And, HOORAY, one of the things waiting for me in the mailbox was my new set of license plates! I've been pumped about getting the new ones since I ordered them a few weeks ago, but the disclaimer from the DMV is that it could take six to eight weeks to get them, so I really wasn't expecting them yet. That made it an even nicer surprise, and when I tore open the envelope and saw them, I couldn't wait to take the old FUNNYCR tags off and put the new ones on.

I was never really happy with the FUNNYCR tags, because of the restrictions they had in place back when I got them. Minnesota has just shifted from the old embossed (stamped) plates to ones where the numbers and letters are printed on, and when they did that they allowed us to add spaces into our personalized plates. The old ones were a maximum of seven characters with no spaces. The new ones are still seven characters, but you can use one or two of your characters to leave blank spots, so that opened up a whole new realm of possibilities. Without a doubt, my new NHRA FC tags look way better than the old ones. If you see me cruising around the Twin Cities, make sure to honk!

Tomorrow, I have a real treat in store for me. I won't let the proverbial cat out of the theoretical bag just yet, but here's a hint. In the next blog, there will be photos of our new ballpark, Target Field, but they won't be screen captures from a webcam. This is going to be FUN!

And speaking of cats, although in this case I'm referring to real ones, not proverbial ones, Da Boyce were ever so happy to have us home again. After a frantic couple of hours of play, at Mach 7, they settled down in a sunny spot on the floor and slept the sleep of the truly happy. They're such good little guys...

Well, lots to do in just a couple of days, since I leave for Reading on Thursday... I better get to work.

Wilber, out!