Mrs. UpintheValley and I took the dogs for a spin around and through the Hansen Dam basin today. Near dark we returned to the parking lot to find…horses dancing to live banda music. This was a spectacle neither of us had encountered before. We watched with slack-jawed gringo fascination as they trotted in circles in time with the music.
Then plumes of smoke appeared in the parking lot, summoned forth by squealing tires. The band kept playing, as though it wasn’t happening. The horses kept dancing.
This burning of rubber -brake and gas pedals to the floor- went on for five minutes…then ten minutes. Unabated. Like an eight-year-old throwing a tantrum, if an eight year old was given a bottle of El Jimador, a Chevy Silverado and a dare.
In a test of wills between musical instruments and internal combustion engines, the rubber burners had the advantage of decibel range. And yet! The charreada continued as though this impromptu monster truck rally wasn’t actually taking place fifty feet away. It was then I noticed the Park Rangers had set out cones to segregate these….completing claims to The Commons. The trucks had their own appreciative audience as well. A woman at one of the picnic tables told us this happens every month. She shrugged it off as the natural order of things.