Welcome to the Unusual Sport of Burro Racing
We sent our writer to train for and compete in a historic donkey race. My Jeep hangs at 45 degrees and creaks on its hinges on a steep pitch of road edging on a cliff. Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” blasts from my stereo … Go ask Alice, When she’s ten feet tall… I take my chances, pop the gear into first and floor it as I turn the wheel right up the slope. The Jeep moves just enough to hook the back tire on a rock and prevent it from flipping. I jump out of its yellow door and start running as fast as possible straight down the steep hill to look for help. And if you go chasing rabbits And you know you’re going to fall I reach the first portal into civilization—a museum in a cave—and run straight through the doors breathless and sweating. “Can I help you?” asks an old man with peppered hair and a pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket. I explain the situation and within minutes I’m sitting in Bud’s Subaru on the way to rescue my Jeep. “Girl, that happened to me once on Black