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Like most racing fans, Garbers is a staunch believer that race car drivers are athletes.

“It’s definitely a sport, and they are athletes. You need to have control of your car. It doesn’t use skills like football, but you need stamina,” Garbers says.

Those drivers are zooming around the track at deafening volumes as I approach the entrance. I meet a friend, a West Salem resident and race fan, inside the speedway. The raceway, at five-eighths of a mile, is illuminated against the dark night sky with blurs of cars rocketing past the bleachers. I expected spectators to be rowdy and yelling, but they are surprisingly reserved, attentively watching a lime-green late model, number 8, go neck-and-neck with maroon’s number 63.

We snag a Packer beer and climb up to the race tower, the best seats in the house, armed with brats and chili-cheese fries. Overlooking the track, we look on as number 8 falls behind and clips 63, forcing the maroon car to spin out. As an amateur, I’m nervous for the safety of the driver, but a crash is to a racing fan is what a fight is to a hockey fan: it adds to the excitement. The feature race on Friday night is a super-late model event running three 33-lap segments, resulting in a single winner. With the completion of the final lap, the spectators spilled out of the track and into the campground.

Camping is as important to Oktoberfest as the racing itself.

“About 200 people show up every day starting Monday and there are 1,200 total campers for the weekend,” Deery says.

Many fans have been camping on the grounds for years and have developed friendships with other annual race-goers.

Delbert Desjarlais of Columbus, Wis., a NASCAR fan of 25 years and a driver himself, has been going to Oktoberfest Race Weekend for two decades.

“I love watching the racing and meeting a lot of new people. I’ve met a lot of people there,” Desjarlais says.

Desjarlais and his family arrived on the Monday the grounds opened and stayed in West Salem until Sunday, seeing local sights, shopping and visiting bars in the local area. After the races, Delbert and his family and friends opt out of the La Crosse Speedway’s sponsored events, creating their own festivities.

“We celebrate at our own campsite because it’s our tradition. We all come back and party around the campfire,” Delbert says.

Though it isn’t a Desjarlais’ tradition, many fans file into the grounds’ Exhibition Center, where fans, crews and drivers dance the night away to a live band. The warehouse, adorned with beer paraphernalia and picnic tables, is populated with many characters, including an older man decked-out in a cowboy hat, tan overalls and a long, white beard who was clearly a veteran racing fan and a frequent guest of the racing post-parties. A sense of camaraderie exists among the hodgepodge of attendees as young and old, spectators and volunteers, embrace the spirit of the weekend with, of course, Wisconsin’s favorite, Miller Lite, in hand.

On Saturday morning my roommates and I wake up clutching each other for warmth to the sound of cars practicing on the track and a tent covered with a two-inch layer of crystallized frost. We warm up our hands on a grill that had “Oktoberfest” and “NASCAR” carved into the rusty metal before devouring a hearty breakfast of donuts, cheese curds and leftover potato chips.

As we snake through the camper village, families huddle together around fires, sitting in fold-up chairs sporting the number of their favorite driver. Diehard fans head to the stands to watch the practices, while others join in events before the nighttime feature races begin, such as the memorabilia show or the annual Pet Costume Parade. Most people, however, spent the day catching up with friends and family at their campsites over the smell of roasting brats.

“We call it racing family reunion,” Deery says. “You see old friends, make new friends. With all the pressures of life, it gives people a nice chance to escape for a little bit and make some good memories.”