Word: bogged
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...idea of the difficulties of the race to come. It is cool and quiet on the track as it winds through the hills and gullies, copses and boulders. By the time we are back at our tent it is 4:30 a.m. In the distance, across the track, the bog still smokes...
...screams toward pure speed. Peter Revson's helmet was painted into a big toothy smile, but he died setting a track record in South America. So far there have been no accidents this weekend. All at once I hear the crickets' song. The heat is over. From the bog floats a black cloud of smoke. It is feasting. Down from the sky plunge Navy parachutists, trailing red, white and blue chutes...
...BOG is but a runoff ditch, fed by the drains from the campgrounds. Left alone it is a glorified mud puddle, finely churned by the hundreds of motorcycles that scramble back and forth. In the middle a naked man is rolling about in the mire. The deeper he sinks, the greater the crowd's pleasure. A few thousand people now mill about this shallow, bowl-like dip of land, waiting for another victim, throwing empty cans of beer at each other. For the present they must content themselves with stoning the engine of an already charred hulk. Here there...
...about us people are rushing to the far side of the track. Apparently there has been a crash. Huge volumes of black, grimy smoke pouring towards us have caused the drivers to slow up on the track. The source, however, is the bog. Stranded in the middle of the mob is the charred hulk of a 40-seat Greyhound bus, bursting like popcorn as the children stone it. The burning continues through the Oldtimers' Race, a special side event this afternoon. Spinning clods of mud in the waning light, the motorcycles continue their catatonic sorties through the now near-solid...
...actor or actress sound silly. Maggie Brenner is effective as the jealous, rapidly aging mother who combats loneliness by occasional flights into a world of make-believe. These moments of fanciful imagination would be hard to sustain were they not presented with delicacy and poise. Sometimes Deborah's speeches bog down, though, and she would do well to recite some of the long ones a shade faster...