|up on Bickle's Knob, near Elkins, WV|
Thus we go to Dover for yet another weekend of NASCAR. It was heartening to see Kyle sitting beside Mark Martin yesterday in the pre-race talk-talk. For all of Harvick's bluster, it's Kyle who's come out ahead, because the lasting image of the to-do at Darlington remains that of Harvick's car cam--Harvick futilely running after Kyle, who's driven out of the frame and planted said car-cam's platform against the wall. Now it's just up to Kyle to keep beating Harvick fair and square on the track. As their machines are usually pretty even-steven, it'll come down to pure driving skill, not who has the best left hook.
Meanwhile, I'm breaking in a new computer. I hope you can tell. I've decided not to copy all the detrius of ten years of computing over to this one, but to use the oldie as a living external hard drive. Therefore, I'm now living in an airy mansion--at least 50 miles of elbow room, as A.P. used to say. Feels like a cool spring day up near Boone, the leaves just budded out, church bells from some distant village wafting in the air, the feeling like no other of just having climbed up some Appalachian knob on a Sunday morning.