BRISTOL, Tenn. -- The circus doesn't officially start until Friday night, when the green flag drops on the Busch Series' Food City 250.

But don't tell that to Steve Thompson, manager of the local Food City, where some 11,000 bags of ice already have been sold. Don't tell that to Sam Tango, who helped unload 32 cases of fried chicken at his Bojangles restaurant Wednesday evening.

	NASCAR CIRCUS
	Along with a convoy of RVs and frenzied legion of stock-car fans from parts of the South and Midwest, ESPN.com has taken a road trip to the Bristol Motor Speedway in Bristol, Tenn., for the 26th stop on the Winston Cup circuit. Through Saturday night's big race, the Sharpie 500, follow along as we tell the story of what life is like when NASCAR rolls into town.

And, certainly, don't tell it to the thousands upon thousands of shirtless folks in RV land, who push their guts out with pride, toss back beers like water and toss around everything from plastic footballs to makeshift horseshoes while waiting for the next piece of eye candy to waltz by.

And when there isn't a confident female with a tanktop strolling past, some have been seen sitting outside their campers, in broad daylight, sifting through pornographic magazines without shame.

Technically, little has happened yet. But to say that the circus isn't in town, to say that the bearded lady, the lion tamer and the man on stilts have yet to arrive, would be wrong.

It began last Friday. The campers started to roll in and the NASCAR shirts started to come out. Day by day, it's gotten bigger and bigger, to the point where traffic is at a standstill in front of the Bristol Motor Speedway, open camping spots are few and far between and local business owners like Thompson and Tango are struggling to keep up.

"We prepare for it every year and yet it still blows me away," said Thompson, whose store will do more business during race week than the rest of August combined. "Every year it's bigger and bigger -- these fans just come into town and take over."

Next to ice, the hottest seller is, not surprisingly, beer. Thompson estimates he'll sell about 5,000 cases before the weekend ends, some 3,000 will be Bud Light. As fast as the distributors roll cases off semi-trucks and onto the store floor, they're swooped up and taken away.

"I used to work in Atlanta and I've seen beer go," said Budweiser distributor Joe Bates between his deliveries on Wednesday, "but never like this. It's insane. They pick it up quicker than we can put it down."

Ice is at an even higher premium. Thompson has two staff members whose full-time job for the week is to unload skids of ice off an 18-wheeler, wheel it into the store, put it in a cooler, then go back start the process again. During the route, customers pull bags upon bags straight off the pallet.

	Workers scurry to unload beer from delivery trucks to meet the demand of NASCAR fans who are headed for Bristol this week.

A manager at another Food City along the main road to the Speedway has four employees designated for ice. He estimated that he would sell somewhere between seven and eight semi-trucks worth of cubes. With 22 skids on a truck and 250 bags on each pallet, that's roughly 40,000 bags of ice.

At 99 cents each, that's roughly $40,000. For frozen water.

"It's crazy," Brock Newberry said. "But people want their beer cold. And I can't blame 'em. I'm the same way."

As one might expect at a NASCAR race smack on the Tennessee-Virginia border, oddities are everywhere. Amidst the endless rows of tents where merchants peddle their NASCAR merchandise, a man sells deep fried Twinkies. Down the road, another guy sells "Ho-Wear." His T-shirts emblazoned with "Ho Depot" and "Stiffy Lube" have become hot sellers here.

Around the corner, a man from Ohio sells five minutes of shower time for $5. Another camp-goer gloats over a Jeff Gordon beanie baby that hangs from his rearview mirror.

"Want me to put it on the back of my truck and run over it?" he offers.

	Jeff Gordon remains popular with most NASCAR fans, both those who like him as well as those who don't.

There's a Volkswagen beetle painted to replicate Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s No. 8 Chevrolet. There's a Chevy pickup, similarly decked in the decals from Dale Earnhardt Sr.'s No. 3 Monte Carlo. There are dune buggies. Golf carts. ATVs. Scooters. All maneuvering their way through the crowds of people.

And it's only beginning.

"I have to tell you," said Jimmy Buckman, seated atop a green ATV just outside the speedway. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com