January through December, I coast on Highway 83 through Delafield without any thought to my surroundings. A Starbucks and Walgreens on one side, McDonald’s and Perkins on the other makes for a seemingly basic drive. However, in the midst of summer, the end of June, beginning of July, one side of the highway is my passion.

At this time, teenagers and the occasional nervous parent file into the lot of Naga-Waukee Ice Rink and neighboring businesses to impatiently wait in line for the bus (hopefully I’ll snag a seat on the Coach bus) that will chauffeur me down to the Milwaukee Summerfest grounds. Here and now is when this makeshift park and ride, bombarded by concert craving adolescents, acts as a war zone, everyone fighting for a place. Finding a parking space among the actual goers of the ice rink is a struggle, but finally locating a spot where my car will await my return is a sweet victory.

It’s a rush and challenge to get the timing of my arrival to the lot just right, for no one wants to miss the reunion. If I’m lucky, I’ll manipulate my way up the line without igniting anger. While small talk is made with the girl who sat behind me in chemistry, and the sun beats down on my Vitamin D tinted skin, every step I take towards a bus heightens the excitement within me: it’s a feeling that only this time and the Naga-Waukee Park and Ride can create.