I was awake with the sound of Mom taking the dogs out, with the ruffle of feet, leashes, and tails hitting the bed. Rocky stepped on me, and Emma licked me. I was awake, but I drifted back to unconsciousness for a while. I then read.
By and by after an hour or two we were all ready, washed, dressed, and satisfied on a hunger basis. The wind was very harsh and powerful today, not good for people, no, but great for racing, as I would later find out. We got into the car, and I thought about home, and how excited I would be to come home. Over the course of the trip I had had several periods of reflection of how school, church, and home was. My private thoughts were put to a hold as we went across the river into Louisville, and then went into the city. What did I think Churchill Downs might be? Some horse pens and track in the woods, maybe. I had no idea how wrong I was.
It was a cream color, several buildings, sections, and other things all together. A huge parking lot in the front. To the left, a small section saying with gold pop out letters: Kentucky Derby Museum. By it, was a statue with some rider and horse and another building part, with the words: Churchill Downs on it, of the same design as the former. This, huge mass of buildings, was Churchill Downs. $5 dollars parking. After coming in and parking (I say this too much, such a waste of words) we went into the museum. There was a small lobby, not altogether big, just a ticket booth and a gift shop going into a different room, and a hallway with awards and such. The museum was also to our left. Getting the just of it, we found out that races go like every 15 minutes, and how to get to them and such. We found out a tour was about to come on, and that the museum is open for a long time after. We decided to go on this tour, but it turned out it wasn't long. We just went into a little courtyard with names of all Kentucky Derby Winners. It was very interesting. We then went through a parking garage and into the stands, into where all the action happens. It had many, many seats, with bleachers, a grand stand, and many seats high above us, including the millionaire's row. It was pretty big, with a huge oval shaped track, of dirt, with a grass area in the middle. We stayed there for a while, the tour guide saying it was $900 dollars to secure a seat, any seat except the millionaire's row ($40,000) forever. It was crazy how much money goes into seeing horses race. I would soon see how cool it was, though.
The tour guide had been good in explaining everything, from in the courtyard to the track. We then went around to another spot and saw a little horse pin and fenced in area, with a grey and black mini horse and a brown thoroughbred, very big horse. The tour had really, in retrospect, little to offer, but took a while, due to long times talking at places. They had other tours, like a behind the scenes tour (seeing the jockeys' locker room and and millionaire's row) and one about legends and tales of the downs, but for some odd reason, they were both closed. We then went back inside and took a look at a cool 360 degree movie, and that was pretty cool, seeing a minute to minute review and showing of the racing day. That was cool. I saw some exhibits, about how the downs started and about jockeys and such, and Rebecca and I did a cool part where you sit on a metal saddle and horse body, and look at a screen, then ride off. For some odd...wait, I've already used that. Strangely (there, that's better) I won all three times we raced around the track, even though another kid joined in one time. Maybe I should try being a jockey. Yeah right, Andrew. In your dreams. Well, a kid can dream. Reality check, dreaming brings on bad things. No they don't! HEY ANDREW, GET BACK TO THE BLOG (Left and Right parts of my mind arguing, they never agree.)
We went into another section of the building, away from the museum, down a sidewalk to another entrance, this one bigger with a bigger lobby. This happened to be the watching, betting, and taking part in races sections. In a big room, I asked a lady who was in her 50's how many sq. ft. the property was, and she directed me to a security guard finishing a meal on the bench. I asked him the same question. And I got a better answer. He told me that it was 48 acres, with some other horse stables two miles from here. I thanked him, and went on my way. 24 of our property can fit onto the Downs. And it's all for a two minute race.
We went up some escalators, and went and saw a cafe. We got food, paid, and ate some stuff. Mom got a salad, dad a salad and chili, Rebecca a hot dog, and me two small turkey sandwiches. It was pretty good, for food at a food court. After we got ready to leave the cafe, two races had already happened. We watched on T.V. the first race. From the beginning I was pulling for a red jockey and brown horse, Number 1, in fifth. He pulled in second. Which is pretty good, thinking he gained four horses and held his ground. I kind of wish he won though. But anyway, we left and went in the direction of the stands, going up, down and into hallways. I had no idea how I could find my way back in this maze. We finally came up in the open breeze, and found some seats that could see all of the track. Then they fluffed the field with tractors and a rake thing pulled behind to make the ground better for the horses. A green tractor with the things they go through when the race begins to easily assemble and stabilize. Then they come out. The jockeys. Green, blue, red, yellow, orange, turquoise, purple, and red and black, they all come out on all kinds of different horses. Brown, chestnut, milky white and brown, and even the rare black. Or white. Only one white. It's a rare color for a race horse, I was told. It is skinny, and doesn't look that promising. It's rider was blue/green, the turquoise one, a small guy who's facial traits I don't and can't know at this distance. The number is 6. With any luck, the little horse will make fifth. Maybe. Dad said, "There they are. 3 and 6. I was at the betting place(I haven't told you he bet for the fun of it, a one time thing) and the man said what numbers do you want, and so I said 3 and 6. They they are." 3 is red, with black. His horse is brown and white. I was saying in my head, "3 or 6, 3 or 6, 3 or 6!" The horses went behind. Helpers in green position themselves in and help 'em out, and after that the gates close, ready to open in reply to the horn. "THE THIRD RACE OF THE DAY IS BEGINNING!" a voice booms. "READY, SET, GO!" And then the horn. The irreplaceable, always knowable, unmistakable loud, loud sound, like a D- Day invasion, or a bomb exploding on Hiroshima.(sorry, studying the two world wars in history, just a good example at the moment.) The gates fling back, and then the horses dash out, the jockeys whipping and tapping lightly. "AND THEIR OFF!" It was so fast, like a blink of an eye or a move of a head. They gallop as fast as lightning, and I am NOT exaggerating when I proclaim that. They go so fast, so quickly, and I believe the wind shifted with them moving. 3 seemed to be hanging back, the jockey hitting violently with his stick. Hey! I shout in my head, knowing no one will ever hear me from down there. Don't do that! 6 is a success. He's right in the back of all the others, gaining one after another. One moves toward him as if to hit him, and then I realize that this is really a barbaric sports at times. They really want to win. All jockeys were in a hunched over position, with their hands on the reins and their stick against the horses side. 11 and 12 are still in the lead, with 7 behind them. 6, after some difficulty, passes by the yellow 7. This is unbelievable. 6 is winning. Or maybe he was good all along and it was just an experienced and fast horse underneath. No they couldn't of gone that. 12 is getting tense and as they all go into the 3/4 mark he looks back. He wants to at least pull in second. It's amazing how fast the whole process has gone, how fast the horses are. It's been at least a minute and they are already almost done. They come around to our side again, and 6, with new found strength, quickly passes 12. Dad goes berserk. "COME ON 6! COME ON, COME ON!" The people by us, who must have voted on 11, incidentally, yell, "Hold your spot, 11! Mr Micheif, COME ON!(Mr. Mischief must be the horses name or something. I think they said 6 was Raquel or something. It's easier to say 6. Raquel(or 6) is at 11's tail, and the purple jockey is uneasy. The turquoise for 6 is hitting the stick repeatedly, and I hope he doesn't hurt the horse. There was already an emergency vehicle on the track earlier, and I hope they won't have to use it. Everybody's yelling and hoping now, Dad, our neighbors, Rebecca, Mom(she's hoping and saying in a soft voice, "You can do it, you can do it!") and even me. Then it happens. It's so sudden, you wouldn't even notice it if you looked away and turned back. At just about to the finish post(a post saying: Finish, not an actual line) 6 speeds up, takes the lead, and wins the race. I come up jumping, even though I didn't intend too. We won, we won! Our horse won!
Such is the joy of the game. I came thinking it was too much to do for a two minute race, but it really is worth it if your there. The adrenaline that's pumped into you, the excitement and uneasiness you feel as your horse is at the end but someone is so close to you, it's hard to imagine that horse- race lovers even have finger nails still. Although I didn't come to the downs thinking it would be a lot of fun, it was more than fun. It was super, super, super fun. Okay, I'm over using the word fun. No matter. I've made my point.
We left the downs, and we chilled out for awhile while walking the dogs and blogging. I read, and read, and then after a while sleep came. I had a great time at the Churchill Downs. It was a great place, with history, splendor, and the love of the sport. I might return, some day.
Goodbye, for now. This will be the last of the 100's of the blog post of Bourne's Big Trip. This 199. Goodbye to 100's, hello to 200's.
You don't know what you don't know,
Andrew.
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