Beneath the Elms: Monster truck rally

By Patrick McGarvey

COURTESY VICTORIA LYALL

The Winter Ball, on Sat., Jan. 23, didn't promise the kind of thrill that an evening among 1,200-horsepower engines, six-foot-tall tires, and crushed cars at the MEG Monster Nationals could provide. Instead of donning fancy clothes for an evening of stuffy ballroom toe-crunching, I bleached my nicest wifebeater, slipped on a ripped pair of jeans, and headed over to the Coliseum for a night among the townies.

The roar of the powerful trucks drew me like the Pied Piper. Inside, the house lights dimmed as G-Force, Predator, and the world-famous Bigfoot raced into the arena. A wheelie contest held at the beginning determined the seeds for the later races. In the contest, the trucks race up to a line of cars and quickly accelerate to pop their front tires into the air to the roar of the crowd. After Bigfoot handled the competition with ease, the motocross bikes entered the arena.

Hard-working mechanics from throughout southern Connecticut jumped at the opportunity to race their super-souped-up bikes. Two preliminary races were held, but no competitors were eliminated for the final rounds. Following the preliminary stages, an intermission allowed the carbon monoxide, which had by now contaminated the building, to dissipate. This gave me the opportunity to observe the sort of crowd a monster truck rally attracts. About 100 tank-top-and-high-top-wearing twenty-somethings gathered around the Marine recruiting center doing pull-ups for a chance at winning a T-shirt.

The sounds of the monstrous engines brought the heavily inebriated crowd members back to their seats. For the final elimination rounds, head-to-head races determined the winner. Due to the Coliseum's tremendous size, the trucks raced for as long as a half second before crossing the finish line and slamming on their brakes. The competition was tight, but Bigfoot came into Saturday night undefeated and was looking strong. In the final race, Bigfoot led right off the start, and 50 feet just wasn't quite enough space for Terraduster to make up the deficit.

Once the motocross and jump contests were completed, Transaurus entered the building and commenced eating a maroon Datsun. We were denied the privilege of seeing Transaurus burn a car due to Connecticut laws pereventing large open flames in closed buildings. Then, to the music of Billy Ray Cyrus, we poured out of the arena filled with a profound appreciation for our mechanics and sensing a greater brotherhood with that reclusive species known as the "townie." Next year, when the Monster Nationals make their triumphant return to Connecticut, expect to find me in the stands wearing my finest tank top and black jeans.

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