Anyway, there was a family in the neighborhood where I grew up who had a go-kart, lovingly built by two brothers and their father. It looked like lots of fun, although I never got to drive it.

When I lived in Texas, there was a mini-golf course down the street that added a kart track. It was shaped like a figure-eight with one end raised, just like the Hot Wheels track we had when I was a kid. The karts, too, looked like Hot Wheels, with a top speed of 15 mph or so. We went a couple of times, for around 10 minutes per session, and it was a lot of fun.

It was nothing at all like our karting excusion on Saturday.

For one thing, there was the karts: 270cc, with a top speed of at least 40 miles per hour. And the track was a lot more complicated, with lots of hairpin turns and twisty bits, and it was much, much longer.

We were at KIRO, or the Kart�dromo Internacional da Região Oeste (International Kart Track of the Western Region). Apparently, they hold (or have held) the European Karting Championships there, and we were all duly impressed. There's an indoor observation deck, an outdoor observation deck, a cafe and a shop. The track can be configured in a multitude of ways, and it has an actual pit area. There's a television in the main observation area that shows the numbers of the cars, who is driving each one, and their time for their last lap. All in all, a very professional set-up. It's a far cry from the fun-park sort of thing we were expecting. These people take their karting seriously.

The race consisting of two parts: a fifteen minute "qualifying" round (to let you warm up, practice, and to determine pole positions), followed immediately by a thirty minute race. I had no expectation of winning, of course, and if I had it would have been dispelled by some of our fellow racers. Some had there own helmets, for example, and a few had racing jackets or one-piece racing suits. One man had what appeared to be a brand new outfit, including the helmet, the one-piece suit, spiffy racing gloves and, to complete the look, matching red racing booties. In further proof that God has a highly developed sense of irony, the poor little dude didn't even place, coming in behind a guy wearing a plain grey sweatshirt, jeans and grubby trainers.

When it came to the actual race, my own, personal goals were fairly modest: not to embarrass myself, to finish ahead of Elvis (I could have added in Pooka Boy and/or Joe, but I'm a realist), and, hopefully, to enjoy myself.

Of course, my main goal-- to the exclusion of all others-- should have been to have Big Fun, but I managed to do that anyway. Karting, it turns out is an absolute blast!

The track was wet because it had been raining all morning, just like we figured it would the minute we decided to go. That didn't bother me much-- if anything, it was a bit of an advantage because racing slicks on wet pavement feels pretty much like driving on snow, and I'm all about driving on snow. I even passed my driving test during what turned into a blizzard-- they shut the center down as we were leaving the building, although not before they issued me my license. The rain stopped just before we started, though, and the track started to dry out pretty well during the main race.

It was about half-way through the main race, while I was congratulating myself on not spinning out one single time, when I started to get it. Red Suit Dude, who had been passing me all day (along with lots of others, but they weren't nearly so memorable), spun out ahead of me, calmly pulled back out on the track, and accelerated away, apparently without a care in the world. From that point on, I stopped using my brake so much, I didn't worry about spinning out or going off the track, and basically just went for it. If it's good enough for Red Suit Dude, it's good enough for me, right?

And do you know what? I still didn't spin out. I fishtailed now and again, but-- no sweat!-- pretend it's snow, and I'm back in control in no time. I went off the track once, but I just accelerated back into traffic and went on my increasingly merry way. I started to finish my laps in a lot less time. I got a lot more agressive, and passed more people, more often. Best of all, Red Suit Dude never passed me again. Ha!

When it was over, I was incredibly disappointed. I was just getting the hang of it! Give us fifteen more minutes!

And then I tried to get out of my kart, and decided that maybe it was for the best. I didn't regain full feeling in my butt for at least half an hour. I expected my hands and wrists to hurt from the constant vibration, especially since I have RSI, but they didn't, really, so that was good. In any case, I'd achieved two out of three on the goal front: I hadn't embarrassed myself, in fact I thought I'd done quite well.

And, of course, I'd had an immense amount of fun.

After that, it was time for the awards ceremony, which was a surprise-- to some of us, anyway. Everybody got a medal, engraved with the the date and where they placed. Dudess got 26th-- Last Place-- and everybody applauded wildly. She spent five minutes standing on the edge of the track, waiting for the officials to unlock her bumper from that of a guy who decided to do a donut right in front of her. He felt, she told me, very bad about that. Dudess didn't really care, though: she just had fun driving, and wasn't interested in going too fast. It scares her, which sort of surprised me since she's pretty gung-ho about most things.

Elvis placed 22nd. I placed 21st, achieving my final goal of placing higher than he did. I did not, however, get a medal.

I got a trophy.

As it turns out, I finished second in the "Ladies Division". In reality, this wasn't true: I finished third. The woman who should have won in the "Ladies Division" declined the honor, opting for First Place Overall, and the substantially larger trophy that goes with it. She also has her own helmet, plus her own suit (two piece), but not the booties. Which is just as well, really, because those booties are pretty silly looking. She also has an insert for the incredibly uncomfortable karting seats, and I don't blame her one bit. I was overjoyed to see her win, though. Let's hear it for the girls!

Did I mention that we had fun?

We did. So much fun, in fact, that we'll be going again in a couple of months.