I was on the phone with a friend that I volunteered in Africa with this week. We were reminiscing about the time we went to a rally race in Uganda. Rally races in Africa are similar to rally races elsewhere in the world, except there were no stands or seats - just space on a hillside. There were probably 10-15,000 people in the crowd at the king's palace that day. Only two of them were white. To say we "stuck out" is like saying the Pope is "spiritual." After watching two heats on a track that was shaped, for lack of a better comparison, like a dog bone I had had enough of not being able to see. "Let's go and see if they'll let us into the pit area [where the teams and owners were]," I said to my friend. "We don't have tickets," he replied. Not only didn't we have tickets, but the entrance was guarded by suspiciously un-official looking men with fully automatic weapons. And then I uttered the famous last words of every Canadian who's ever died doing something stupid: "What's the worst that could happen?" It turns out, nothing. No questions were asked as we walked past the guards with the guns. "Lets go on the track!" I suggested. I was full of great ideas that day, it seems. I even have a picture (below). The picture is deceptively non-descript. What you can't tell from it is that the car in the background has just peeled around a corner and by the time it reached where I was standing it was clocked at 80mph. What you also can't tell is that directly behind us, the same distance away, was another car. You see, we weren't on the sides of the race...we were in the middle of the track. I'm sure the Africans in the stand were asking each other in their local languages, "Who the fuck are THOSE GUYS standing there waiting to get killed?" We were literally the stupid people you see on World's Wildest Videos who are standing there when the car flips over and explodes, killing 10 people. Focus: Talk about something you've done where strangers probably asked, "Who the hell is that guy (or, in my case, that girl)?