The Saratoga Race Course opens today for its 150th season. Widely considered for generations to be the most beautiful racetrack in the world  and a Top 10 sporting venue in America, Saratoga is only open for six weeks a year. That short season, combined with the idyllic small town setting and glorious Upstate New York summer weather, make it the crown jewel of American horseracing, and an annual global destination for the rich and famous.

Having grown up just south of Saratoga, NY, I spent endless childhood summer days sitting in the majestic track’s picnic area, and just as many teenage summer nights bar-hopping the small-town, mardi-gras-like atmosphere of downtown Saratoga. You get some funny looks in most of the rest of the country when it’s revealed that you know how to calculate the payout on a $2 exacta ((total exacta pool – takeout)/(total winning dollars bet * 2)) or can name the horse that beat Secretariat in the ’73 Whitney (Onion), but it’s neither trashy nor uncommon to know horse racing where I come from.

Saratoga is, of course, known as the “graveyard of champions.” Secretariat lost to Onion there in the ’73 Whitney. Jim Dandy beat Gallant Fox in the ’30 Travers.  And, of cousre, Man O’ War. When I was a boy, the most famous TV ad for Saratoga was a shot of the sun coming up over the practice track, and a gravely-voiced announcer slowly reciting the famous spine-tingler: Man…O’….War. Greatest…horse…of…all…time. Started twenty-one races…Won twenty of them….His…only…loss? …To a horse…named…Upset…At a  track …. called … Saratoga! There’s really nothing quite like standing at the top of the empty grandstand in the morning and surveying the homestretch while you think about that commercial. Magic.

I have always loved everything Saratoga. The track. The town. The people. The races. The picnic area. The fancy clothes. The sounds. The smells. The horses. The clubhouse. The paddock. The beautiful afternoons. The walk downtown after the races end. The restaurants. The bars. The horsemen. The horse talk. The kids selling tip sheets. The spinners collecting t-shirts. The fat men smoking cigars and telling anyone in earshot that “they almost had the triple!” All of it.

But I love Saratoga the most in the morning. The races don’t start until 1pm, but you can get into the track as early as you can get out of bed. There’s nothing quite like arriving at the track at 8am, grabbing some picnic tables, playing cards, reading the newspaper, wandering the clubhouse, walking downtown for breakfast, handicapping the races, and shooting the breeze with your buddies as the morning rolls by.

And so here’s a photo essay of the race course as many people have never seen it. Many of these photos were personally taken by me 15 years ago, in a spat of twenty-something nostalgia, when I realized I would probably never again live near Saratoga, and would likely never visit the mighty racetrack more than once a season. Others were taken more recently, or culled off the internet. Make sure you click on the pictures to blow them up, much of the beauty is in the details.

 The Oklahoma practice track, across the street from the picnic area and the main track, 6am. Although Saratoga is only open for six weeks each year (late July until Labor Day), many horses stable and train in Saratoga for longer stretches.

The clubouse entrance, 7am. Lawn jockeys are a traditional front yard decoration in the town of Saraotga, and each year the clubhouse entrance jockeys are repainted to match the silks of winners from the previous year’s major stakes races.

The picnic area, 7:05am (weekday). There are hundreds of picnic tables on the grounds of Saratoga, and they are first-come, first serve. The racing at Saratoga starts at 1pm. On the weekdays, the picnic tables will not all be taken until 10am or so.

The picnic area, 7:05am (weekend). On the weekends, if you are not in the gates prior to 7:15am, you probably won’t get a table. Notice that you don’t have to stay at your table. You can swing by at 7am, put down a tablecloth and a cooler, and then leave and go back to bed. Many people get their table, then go watch some horse workouts or walk downtown from breakfast. In recent years, more and more groups have started brining their own bridge tables and canopies, and just setting up in open space at 9am or whenever. That’s what I tend to do.

The spring inside the picnic area. 8am. Saratoga, of course, is also famous for its natural springs. You’ve never tasted such horrible water, or seen old men down such horrible water like it was the fountain of youth. Not a picnic table in sight at this hour.

One of the trackside restaurants in the clubhouse, 8:15am. Early morning handicappers are surveying their racing forms. I swear to you, I have been to Saratoga Race Course hundreds of times, and I have never seen once shred of evidence that you can gain any handicapping edge by studying the Daily Racing Form. None.

The Turf Terrance restaurant in the clubhouse, 8:20amn. Jackets required. Fancy hats optional. Political or other connections helpful.

Two horseplayers having breakfast trackside, 8:45am. I prefer Compton’s Diner down on Broadway to the breakfast at the track, but it is fun to watch the workouts while you read the paper and sip coffee. And If you ever want to see someone smoke a cigar at 8am, you’ve come to the right place.

Breakfast at the rail, watching a workout, 9am. Those “at the rail” style seats did not exist when I was a boy, but much like Fenway Park, Saratoga has been steadily enhanced over the past 20 years, largely without sacrificing it’s rustic 19th century charm. Like the famous saying goes, it’s not hard to get to Saratoga: you just drive 175 miles north from New York City, turn left off the highway, and go back about 100 years.

Betting windows in the picnic area, 9:30am. The track needs a lot of seasonal labor. Out in the stables, it’s almost entirely Hispanic immigrants. At the lemonade and ice cream stands, it’s almost universally teenagers. And behind the betting windows, it’s disproportionately public school teachers. I can remember going to place a bet once the summer after 9th grade, looking up, and seeing my English teacher. Yikes!

Betting windows in the clubhouse. Like most people at Saratoga, I’m not much of a gambler — I usually bet maybe $5 on any given race. When it comes right down to it, most people don’t go to the track specifically to gamble. Sure, the average person at the track bets $5 or $10 on a handful of races, but that’s not why they are there. For the most part, people are there because it’s something to do with one’s friends and family on a beautiful day in a beautiful park.

Bartender relaxing outside an empty clubhouse barroom, 10am. It costs $5 to get into Saratoga, and an additional $5 if you want to go into the clubhouse. The clubhouse has the best seats, a bunch of restaurants and bars, the winner’s circle, and the luxury boxes along the finish line. Like most people, I rarely buy the clubhouse admission, preferring to hang out in the picnic area, grandstand, and down by the rail.

The view from the clubhouse seats, 9:30am. Five bucks to get into the track, plus a $2 bet on 7 or 8 races, bring your own food and drinks, and it’s more or less the most entertainment you can buy for less than $25.

Those who prefer the benches start to filter in. Everyone who goes to the track does it differently, and no one can believe anyone else’s logistics make any sense. Some people just wander the whole time (insanity). Some like the benches (ditto). Some like buying seats in the clubhouse (ok). I’ve always been a picnic area guy: set up two bridge tables and a bunch of camping chairs, and use that as a home base from which to occasionally go to the rail, the clubhouse, etc.

Walking downtown for breakfast, 9:30am. Across the street from the track is the National Horseracing Hall of Fame. It’s about 1/2 mile neighborhood walk down glorious Union Avenue—lined with trees and mansions—to downtown Saratoga.

Downtown Saratoga has one main street—Broadway, pictured here–and then about 6 square blocks of side streets, lined with bars and restaurants. It’s almost certainly the nicest small town I’ve ever set foot in. We’ll get breakfast at Compton’s Diner, which will be filled with horseplayers, horse owners, and occasionally jockeys.

The clubhouse entrance starts to get crowded, 11am. Outside the entrances to the track, local kids have summer jobs hawking water, food, newspapers, and, of course, tip sheets. There are dozens of tip sheets sold at the track, none of them worth the $5 they cost.

Programs for sale, just inside the gates, 11:30am. These kids make a fortune. The norm at Saratoga is to never take your coin change when you buy something. So those kids are getting 50 cents tip on most programs. And they are selling hundreds of them in the span of about 2 hours. Needless to say, a summer job at the track is a highly prized possession for teenagers, and political connections are often used to obtain one.

The bands begin to play in the picnic area, 11:30. Sometimes, Saratoga is so classy it hurts. Like the shaving equipment and free cologne in the picnic area men’s room. I’ve seen people stop and use the cologne, but I’ve never observed someone actually lather up for a shave.

Artwork row. I’ve always been tempted to buy an autographed copy of the iconic shot of Turcotte looking back from aboard Secretariat at the 1/16 pole at the ’73 Belmont. But I’ve never pulled the trigger on any racing memorabilia.

The picnic area begins to fill up. Contrary to what most newcomers expect, the picnic area is one of the best places to watch the races. There are TVs everywhere, the crowd energy is high, and you don’t have to disrupt your card game or conversation, or even get up out of your seat.

Cocktails. Liquor doesn’t sell that all that well at Saratoga Race Course, because (1) you can bring as much of your own as you want into the picnic area, and (2) the atmosphere at the track is a lot more family-friendly then you might otherwise imagine. On the other hand, the legal drinking age in the town of Saratoga during track season seems to be about 17, which makes sense because the legal gambling age at the track seems to be about 12. Family-friendly indeed!

Playing cards in the picnic area is a huge Saratoga thing. So are fancy dresses. Here are my wife and older two daughters and mother-in-law years ago, showing off both traditions.

Lounging in the picnic area, noon. To really do the picnic area well, all you really need a coolor with beer, gatorade, water, and some subs for lunch, some snacks, a few decks of cards, an a couple local newspapers.

The horses walk through the picnic area for race #1, 12:30pm. If you have never stood next to a thoroughbred racehourse, it’s quite startling just how enormous and poweful they are.

The horses enter the paddock for race #1, 12:35. Watching grown men scream encouragement to a horse as it walks by is both hilarious and scary. You go get ‘em, Mr Peanuts! One time!

Jockeys climb aboard, 12:45. Watching grown men scream strategy to the jockeys is just plain hilarious. Don’t take him wide this trip, Robbie!

The grandstand and rail fill up, 12:50. For a typical race, you need to get to the rail about 10 minutes before post if you want to be in the front row along the fence. I usually watch one or two races a day from the rail, one or two from the clubhouse, and the rest on the TV monitors in the picnic area.

Leaving the paddock for the track, 12:52. One reason a racetrack doesn’t feel like a casino is that the gambling isn’t constant. There’s a solid half hour between races, so you have a lot of down time, which means you aren’t constantly thinking about or engaged in wagering.

Heading toward the starting gates, 12:56. Obviously, there has been a lot of research done in the last 150 years on horse genetics. The thing that I can’t fathom is that they never figured out how to breed fast thoroughbrdeds that had ankles thicker than toothpicks.

The horses are in the gate, 1pm. Tom Durkin—who called the Triple Crown races for decades— has been making the calls at the track since I was about 10. Sadly, he retired recently, though he still spends summers in Saratoga and gives an awesome celebrity tour of the racing museum. I was at Saraotga on August 16, 2008 for his famous call on AARRRRRR! .

And they’re off! 1pm. On most days, there are 10 races at Saratoga. My buddies and I usually stay for 9—often the feature race is not the last one—and by that time it’s about 6pm and time to meander downtown for happy hour and dinner.

Watching a race from the paddock outdoor bar in the picnic area. This is a very classic Saratoga scene: two women in fancy dresses, and some dude in a lime green suit.

Watching a race from the rail. You cannot believe how fast these horses are moving until you see it up close. Terrifying.

Watching a race from the grandstand, my least favorite spot.

A winning ticket (if memory serves correct). I have almost never bet $20 on a race, so this must be from a show pool some budidies and I put together. A lot of people like to bet the longshots, but favorite-longshot bias is rampant in horse-racing, and so the value is almost always on horses with shorter odds.

Time to head downtown to dinner. Early evenings in downtown Saratoga are often absurdly beautiful. Live bands playing outdoors at many of the bars. Thousands of people in the streets. Goregeous weather.

 

Caroline Street. Midnight. The bars don’t close in Saratoga in August until way past your bedtime. Many are still serving drinks at 3am. Time to go to bed. Tomorrow is another day in Saratoga. At least until September.