Swamp Buggy Queen
We had a good time at the swamp buggy races. We got lost several times on our way there, something that probably happens increasingly the closer you get to the everglades. Honestly, I'd gotten this event confused with an event in the other direction -- the redneck yacht club. I was expecting girls flashing their boobs and mayhem. This was more like NASCAR in miniature. The swamp buggies were strange, long contraptions, made to float and not built for glory. In between their dashes around the swamp, teen boys in small jeeps had their own races in which they sank so low in the water, I thought they might drown. (They didn't.) One swamp buggy racer flipped, but I don't believe he was hurt. There were many rebel flags and lots of BBQ. In the VIP tent, I had a chance to talk to this year's swamp buggy queen. She was very sweet. It's part of the annual tradition for the winning racer to pick up the swamp buggy queen and jump into the swamp with her at the end of the day. I asked if she was worried about that. She said, no, not really. Except, she added, someone said there was an alligator in the swamp, and she wasn't too sure about that.