I recently went to my first demolition derby, Woodbooger Demolition Derby. It was at an agricultural fair in Bolton, Mass. To get to the fairground, you parked a 10-minute drive away and took a school bus to the site.
I found it shocking, obscene, and fun. The first collision scared me, but by the end I found the less violent impacts almost routine.
I fit into the crowd better than I expected. There were a lot of other people with canes, earrings, and tattoos, though theirs tended more toward rosary-with-death-date and sleeve-of-skulls-and-Boston-sports-team-logos than mine.
Highlights included:
Several broken axels.
A car with ‘CRASH INTO ME” spray painted on the side.
A woman playing peekaboo with her baby while cars hit each other in the background.
A car ploughing into the perimeter of Jersey barriers and coming like 10 feet from hitting the audience.
Explaining what a cervical collar is to a drunk person.
An engine fire that made the driver leap out in a hurry so firefighters could douse the front of the car with fire extinguishers.
Making change for a group of bettors who turned out to also have come from Worcester.
I spent an hour and a half waiting in line for the bus to leave. Even with my cane, it was painful. I do not regret drastically overpaying for a big cup of lemonade. Catch me googling ‘monster trucks near me’ soon.
