the end of Thunder Ridge

Thunder Ridge: A Noisy Name, A Deathly Quiet Existence
By Bill Finley
PRESTONBURG, Ky.– I have always been fascinated by the offbeat and bizarre when it comes to racing. The Kentucky Derby? Been there and done that over and over again and wouldn’t go near the place on the first Saturday in May unless I had to. Sameness doesn’t appeal to me. That’s why I drove 673 miles from my New Jersey home to Prestonburg, Kentucky the other day because I had to see firsthand the strangest racetrack there has ever been, to see if this place that was beyond belief was actually for real. And I was quickly running out of chances. Thunder Ridge calls itself a racetrack but that is a stretch. If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is there to hear it does it make a sound? No one knows. But what about a horse race? If it happens but nobody watches and nobody cares and no one bets on it then what is it? Is it really a race?
It is here in Eastern Kentucky, a long way from anywhere, that a racetrack asks that question whenever it holds a race. Yes, they raced Thursday evening at Thunder Ridge but you’d be hard pressed to find any evidence of that fact. This is where a troubled sport is alive but dead—all at the same time.
There were horses competing at Thunder Ridge Thursday, horses that raced for actual purses. Thursday’s feature, one of five races on the card, was worth $2,400 and it was won by Custom Tag, D. Kiesan Wilson in the bike. But where were the fans? The bettors? Why is there no betting program? An evening at Thunder Ridge is to be cast in a Twilight Zone episode—only it is real.
A little history: Thunder Ridge opened July 3, 1994. By conducting racing the track is allowed to export simulcasting signals year-round, which apparently brings in a few dollars, or at least enough to dole out a few thousand dollars in purses for the 21 days of racing slated
for 2013. (Why someone thought it was a good idea to build a racetrack in one of the remotest areas of the country is anyone’s guess).
Back in its infancy Thunder Ridge also offered auto racing on a three-eighths of a mile track inside the harness track. Whatever might have once been there for the cars is now completely overgrown with weeds. The betting handle back in the mid-nineties wasn’t good, but it wasn’t pathetic. You could bet $2 on a horse and not make him 1-9. Somewhere along the line they totally gave up. The races are not simulcast anywhere, the track does not have a website, it does not publish a program and you can drive right past it on State Route 3 without having any idea it is there.
When asked why the track does not send out its signal, Thunder Ridge General Manager Anita Ratliff said: “Do you have any idea what it costs to simulcast?” It also must cost a lot to buy paint or a weed whacker. The decay is overwhelming. No one could possibly sit in
the stands, virtually every inch of which is covered with bird crap. Some of the weeds come up to your knees. Thunder Ridge will soon be put out of its misery. The owners have entered into an agreement with Keeneland and Full House Resorts, a casino company, to sell,
essentially, Thunder Ridge’s racing permit. Keeneland will close Thunder Ridge and open a quarter horse track in the area of Corbin, Kentucky. Obviously, nobody really cares about quarter horse racing, but Keeneland and the casino company have to race horses of some kind so that they can achieve their true goal, open up a faux slots parlor with Instant Racing Machines. The deal has yet to be approved, but it is working its way through the system and once it has been completed Thunder Ridge is done. It will likely run its last race next Friday. Then, the track that nobody knew was there in the first place will disappear, missed by no one.
It’s a horrible day weather-wise in Appalachia as torrential rain is a constant presence on the trip from the closet thing around here to civilization (Huntington, West Virginia) to Thunder Ridge. For most of the trip there is no cell phone service, so there is no way to call ahead and see if the races have been washed out. They haven’t. Once there it’s hard to know where to go and you would never know the place was open if you didn’t have advance notice. There’s almost no sign of life and most doors are closed shut. But one entrance leads you to a poorly lit room where there is a bar, a few SAM betting machines and 11 patrons, all of whom seem to be on a first-name basis. It’s a bit uncomfortable being a stranger here, something they don’t see much of around here. A few people are overheard asking who’s the guy wearing the Breeders’ Cup hat?
Thunder Ridge is taking betting on a handful of thoroughbred and harness tracks and the signals from Hollywood Park and Hoosier seem to be the focus of the fans, all 11 of them. Likely, long ago they figured out that there is no point betting on the live product taking place in
front of them. Because Thunder Ridge does not simulcast its signal anywhere these 11 people are the only ones on planet Earth capable of betting on the local harness races. Nights like Thursday May 9th aren’t that unusual. The total handle on the four-race card was $4. That’s not a typo. The handle on the card was $4. Why don’t people bet on the live product? “I have no idea,” said Ratliff. “It’s a dying sport. I don’t bet myself.” It would save everyone a lot of trouble if Thunder Ridge didn’t take any betting on its races, but it can’t do that. Under Kentucky law in order to simulcast they must have “pari-mutuel” betting. The sham must go on. There is an announcer (why bother?), they have a morning
line (why bother?) and two patrol towers are manned (guess they have to bother). The linemaker thought Glacier Mist was the horse to beat in the opener, making her the 3-1 favorite despite having a provisional driver, Parris McKinney, who was winless on the year. But the wiseguy in the crowd disagreed. The money came pouring in on Fort Riley. This handicapper bet $2 show on Fort Riley and collected $2.10
when the horse finished third. There was not another penny bet on the race.
The fans sent it in big time on the second race, on which the handle was $24. Someone bet $20 to win on Master The Art, which allowed the lone bettor holding a $2 win ticket on Later Gator to collect $19.60 for the win. (We’re still trying to find out if that is a Thunder Ridge record for highest payout). In the fourth there was the first bet of the night on any kind of exotic, a $2 exacta play. By the time it was over, the handle on the night was $100. (Then again, yours truly accounted for $52 of it.) Based on a typical cut for a racetrack, Thunder Ridge’s take was about $20, which sure beats the 80 cents it took in a week earlier when the handle was four bucks. James Stiltner II, the Tim Tetrick of Thunder Ridge, won the second, third and fourth and looked to have the horse to beat in the fifth and last race on the card in Sister Gola.
Someone in the crowd, now down to 10, sure thought so as Sister Gola took all the money, going off at 1-20 thanks to a $2 punch. But Stiltner could only work so much magic on this night. Sister Gola was outgamed by Custom Tag and finished second. The chalk player went home disappointed, but I did not. I managed to win 50 cents on the card and got what I came for, an experience and a good story. They were at it again last night at Thunder Ridge with a big seven-race card. They’ll be off until Wednesday, and the meet will close out with three nights of racing. They won’t go out with a bang. They won’t even go out with a whimper. Here, at Thunder Ridge, the least successful
racetrack there ever was or ever will be, they will just go out. Someone will turn out the lights, a bunch of birds will defecate on the premises and the weeds will get a wee bit higher. You can’t die if you were never alive.
Betting On A Sure Thing
Don’t ever let it be said that there is no such thing as a sure thing in horse racing. On Thursday, I bet on one. Wagering at Thunder Ridge is unlike betting at any other place, which I learned while making a few small plays on the card. I wagered $2 across the board on a horse in the fourth race and it finished out of the money, but my loss was not the expected $6, it was $2.When no winning tickets are sold in a particular pool all losing bets are refunded. Because I had made the only place and show bets sold and I lost I got my money back. For the final race on the card I had my strategy. If I could make the only show bet in the race only one of two things could happen—I would either win my bet or I would get my money back. I watched the television that showed the betting for Thunder Ridge, saw that the pool was empty and at the last second bet $50 to show on standout Sister Gola. She was the obvious horse to beat in the five-horse field. Sister Gola finished second and I made $2.50, the easiest money I have ever made at the track.