Two mowers at the edge of the field blades folded up like butterflies resting. Riders do last minute checks swig orange energy drink spit banter then they mount and the blades come down a roar fills the she-oak grove as the race begins. Deck & deck along the straight slow but horrendous. My companion wears puppy chic complete with white furs and a grass clippings fascinator but we're just not betting sorts. we keep walking.