The distant roar of thunder echoes across the skies.  In the distance I can hear them.  Loud.  Routine.  Summertime.  For decades.  The sound of racecars. 

I can hear the funny cars, the smaller cars and the cars with jet engines.  (A quick spurt of energy and sound and the quarter-mile is done in a few seconds.)  Whether it be rain or shine, the races go on.

I’ve heard these sounds for over forty years.  The sounds cascading off trees and hills and reaching my ears in Covington.  And where do they originate?  Why from Pacific Raceways.  Of course if you’ve lived here any length of time you still say S.I.R. (Seattle International Raceways)  It’s a hard change to use the new name when you grew up with S.I.R.  Friends that live there still refer to it as S.I.R. 

I wonder.  If people have moved into that development or even into Covington in the last ten years or so and hear the term S.I.R. or even use that term, do they know what it stands for? 

The next time you hear that cacophony of sound emanating from the track in the trees, think S.I.R., or Pacific Raceway.