Belmont Park
I can’t imagine there’s a time of year Belmont isn’t pretty, but after seeing the vines turn color over the paddock, it’s hard to imagine one prettier.

The center section (with the purple Breeders Cup awnings) overlooks the paddock area, and serves as the tunnel from the paddock to the track. To the left is the grandstand section; to the right is the Clubhouse section and the NY Racing Commission office. The green umbrellaed tables are on an open air patio that flanks both sides of the paddock walk.

The morning walk
Each day starts out with a little stroll in the sun, warming up and stretching muscles before working out, just like we humans do. While he loves to run, Fourty Niners Son gets bored with the walk, practically needing to be drug around by the reins some mornings. His partner this morning is Debra Biggs, his excercise rider. She and his groom, Filipe Gallarpo, are his two constant companions everywhere he goes.

No felonies, right?
Each owner must be licenced by the host state, clearing the hurdle for any past felony convictions or other legal embarrasments. Once approved, they are fingerprinted and issued a racing licence. Here, Dad is being inked by a staff member of the New York Racing Commission as part of the process. At the time I took this, we were laughing with Cindy Niemetz (IRB, west coast agent) about how having your fingerprints taken isn’t exactly the kind of thing you‘d enjoy or have on film for eternity.

Pass me, please
Next stop was the New York Racing Association office for security passes allowing access to the secured stable areas. IDs are checked, licences verified and credentials scrutinized to assure anyone given a pass has legitimate reasons to be there. During the normal racing season, this photo ID allows the holder into the Clubhouse areas and stables; during the Breeders Cup when security is at its peak, it’s required to get into the locked down barn area. Unless you have a pass or accompany someone who does, there’s no way past the eight foot hurricane fencing.

Hey, look...I’m official!
We laughed about the fact the NYRA issued a pass in my name, but later realized how lucky that was. On race day, due to a timing snaffu, my Clubhouse ticket ended up IN the Clubhouse with Dad while I was with everyone else on the (lost) track bus. Upon arrival, everyone headed for the Clubhouse entrance...and I flashed my ID at the security entrance where I was met with a smile and a cheerful “Hello, Ms. Baxter...welcome to the Breeders Cup!” Sometimes, it pays to have just the right piece of plastic.