In March of 1993, there was a NASCAR race in Atlanta in which my dad and four of his friends decided to take a road trip to. The weather predicted for the race was supposed to be cold and rainy. My dad was the kind of person to prepare for anything, so he took gear for rain and cold weather. My dad, pulling a pop up camper behind his Chevy Silverado, met his four friends in Chattanooga. They finally got to Atlanta, where they set up in the middle green of the raceway. During the night before the race, they were awakened many times because the wind was blowing extremely hard. The next morning, they woke up to over a foot of snow. So much for the prediction of rain with no snow in the forecast. Obviously, the race was cancelled. My dad 's