I first learned about Golden Ring Raceway from my Grandfather, Will Alfred, when I was 8 years old. “It was possibly the greatest racetrack ever constructed by man!” My grandfather claimed. “The stadium was as big as the Daytona International Raceway! Only instead of being shaped like some awkward lookin’ oval thing, Golden Ring was a perfect circle. The stadium was also painted a brilliant Iron Red color, and drivers from all around the US of A would compete ruthlessly in their home-made race cars so that they could be crowned the king of Golden Ring, and upon doing so they would receive the most beautiful trophy you can imagine! A solid gold hand-crafted ring, with graceful decorative accrylic written all around it.”
It was awe-inspiring hearing my grandfather talk about this mythical raceway that I had never heard of. However, as I child since that point I always felt like Willy was, in of himself, a pretty mythical figure. He resembled more of a shadow that hid from all of the memories of my child hood, and only became visible during my most cherished memories. It would remain that way until he killed himself when I was 16.
As of writing this I’m now 28 years old, I’ve lived a mostly happy life here in New Mexico with my family. I was able to find my own place in the postal service, and aside from the incident with my grandfather I been living a mostly normal life with my husband, and other friends and family. Yet, there was just something about my life that always bugged me. Other than Willy, I felt like my life was too uneventful, and I simply wished for that one moment when just a single action or event could completely change my life. Now I only wish that I had wished more carefully. When I got back from work one day, I found an old piece of paper hidden in the basement that felt like it read me more than I read it.
It was a letter from who else but Will Alfred.
“Joyce, these will be the last words you will ever read that have come straight from the soul of your old grandpa. I’m sorry that I erased myself from your world when that world hadn’t nearly been finished yet. However, the truth is that I never wanted this to happen to you, it was something that I was forced to do. I want you to understand what it was that sent my life down an endless spiral, the monolithic set of circumstances that ruined me as a person. In the act of destroying your world, I saved everyone elses. To know what I mean, here’s something that I’ve wanted to give you for a long time.”
“Yours truly, Willy A.”
Underneath the letter, there was a plastic bag with a ticket and address for Golden Ring Raceway.
Despite all my years worth of knowledge for American auto racing, I had still never been able to find any resources for Golden Ring Raceway. However I was shocked not just by the fact that Golden Ring Raceway was real, but that according to the written down address it was located in the town of Coyote, NM. Coyote was a town that was supposedly once one of those tiny towns that people usually passed through in the middle of who-gives-a-shit nowhere. However starting in 1992, and supposedly throughout the rest of the 90’s, approximately 78% of the people living there went insane according to the police department, and other medical facilites. This was enough to completely wipe Coyote off the map as everyone decided to move away, and to this day Coyote is completely abandoned.
I didn’t know how to feel about this at first. I had so many questions about my grandfather and where he lived and Golden Rings existence. Eventually however I worked up the courage to prepare the 2 hour long road trip to Coyote. When I got there, it was just I felt like it would be. Desolate, abandoned, maybe even cursed. Reading the address my father gave me revealed that the raceway was about 6 miles north west of Coyote. My jaw dropped when I actually saw the stadium, or atleast what was left of it.
The stadium looked almost untouched on the outside. I noticed that the stadium itself was covered in rust, as if the stadium was genuinely made out of iron. This is when I started to realise something. I pulled out my phone and I pulled up Google Maps, and I realized that this place was photoshopped off the map. It gave me a sense of dread wandering what happened here that would make it erased from the map. Remembering what my Grandpa said in the letter though, I felt like I had no choice but to step in.
I noticed that there was a huge golden ring left to the side of the entrance. I assumed that it used to be a part of the stadium, or said entrance. It was upon stepping inside when truly felt awe for this structure. It really did feel as big as Daytona, and it really was a perfect circle. I walked around for what felt like minutes, until finally I reached what looked like the start/finish line of the raceway. I was caught off guard however by something written on the brick wall over the line.
“and I will execute great vengeance upon them with furious rebukes; and they shall know that I am the LORD, when I shall lay my vengeance upon them - Ezekiel 25:17”
This was what really started my bad feelings about this place. Ofcourse I could’ve just assumed that since the people of Coyote went insane, this place just so happened to be graffitied by one of those people, and nobody bothered to clean it up. However, there was still this bad feeling in the back of my head that if the people of Coyote truly went insane, then could this be where it all started?
Upon looking around, I was able to find what looked like the VIP room of the stadium, it was as delapitated as you might have guessed. chairs and wooden boards appeared to be everywhere. What caught my attention though was a panel in the wall that appeared to be open. When I looked inside of it, I found what appeared to be a ladder going down. Ofcourse I had to know what was down there, and why it was hidden. So I turned on my flashlight, and I awkwardly stepped backwards on all fours into the opening.
I have zero idea how long the ladder actually was, but even as I was going down as fast as I could, I spent what felt like 3 minutes climbing down it. Eventually I made it to what appeared to be a door, a door that lead to the lobby of some sort of laboratory, or really old office space. The more and more I explored that small facility, the more nervous I felt. There were multiple rooms that appeared to be open, some even having scientific equipment in them. I explored more and more until eventually I came across a hallway that had huge glass panes on the left side, what I saw on the other side shocked me.
Shining my flashlight into the abyss, I could make out what appeared to be a silo-shaped hangar. The concrete walls of the hangar were lined with metal walk-ways, and there was even a walk-way that stretched out from the walls to the center of the hangar. When I looked down below the walk-way, the walls of the silo faded away to reveal a huge cavernous hole that stretch down for god knows how long. That’s when I realized the giant hangar, or maybe even the naturally made hole, was right below the start/finish line of the track above.
When I went down the hallway, I found what appeared to be some sort of terminal room filled with old industrial computer machinery. It seemed to have a much better view of the hangar then in the hallway. I knew it, whatever the hell happened here is the reason why everyone went insane. No wonder this place was blurred from Google Earth. Looking through the files, I was shocked to find out that my grandfather was one of the employees here. Why did he send me here? Did he want me to reveal all this information? I don’t think anyone deserves to know what happened here, especially after finding a VHS tape in one of the cabinets.
“LOG 2098 - 6/20/92” was the title of the VHS tape. I realized that this was my key to finding out what happened here. I found a CRT TV inside the same room. I was able to find a breaker room where I could turn on the power so that I could turn on the TV. Then I inserted the VHS tape, and hit play. Good god I wish I didn’t.
The first thing the VHS played was a title card that displayed the same thing as what was written on the cover, aswell as the words “Experiment success” below it. I was then caught off guard when the video and audio of the tape bursted into life to reveal extremely muffled and decayed footage of what looked like a race from what other year than 1992. One of the things I found out in the files was that this was actually the first, and only, race here. Despite the race track itself being first constructed in the 50’s. Clearly they spent alot more time down here then up there.
The more I watched the race go on through muffled VHS static, the more and more I felt like I was watching something I wasn’t supposed to. I heard the announcer state the final lap of the race, and the footage became even more muffled. there was this strange ambiance that I felt as the race got closer and closer to ending. I saw that the car in the lead was the number 22, and I heard the announcer yell that the driver was named Jeffrey Wylder. It looked like he was about to win the race too, but just before he crossed the finish line, the footage stopped for a split second due to the terrible state of the VHS tape. What happened afterwards will forever traumatize me.
The number 22 car instantly exploded when it crossed the finish line. As the crowds instantly erupted into panic, there was a burst of flames over the finish line from what was left of the gas tank, and multiple other cars swerved into the grass to avoid it. The footage then cut to what appeared to be the perspective of a different camera at the same time. As people were getting out of there seats to leave, the camera slowly zoomed into the finish line to reveal what was left of Jeffrey Wylder.
I don’t know fucking how it was possible, but Jeffrey’s internal organs and appeared to be stopped by some invisible wall, and his blood was now staining it. The camera then stared intently at the remains of the poor driver.
seconds later, a hatch opened up in the tarmac.