BRISTOL, Tenn. -- The mangled scraps of white sheet metal just sat there, a testament to the carnage that had taken place.

	Race fans head home, but not before leaving something to remember them by...trash, and lots of it. Crews will take several days to remove the debris left behind in the speedway and area campgrounds.

Michael Waltrip was back in his cozy trailer, feet most likely kicked up on a footstool, a frustrated look definitely on his face. His crew had already packed up the trailer and were waiting for the signal that they could leave.

But smack in the middle of the Bristol Motor Speedway infield sat the remnants of disaster. An unprovoked crash ended Waltrip's night early here Saturday night and he was none too happy about it. Watching a replay, he chucked a bottle of water into the ground.

"You almost have to laugh after a night like tonight," he said.

But Waltrip's frustration was everyone else's trash. Long after he left, people walked past the violently twisted shapes of metal and ankle-high piles of safety compound like it was nothing.

It became a garbage collector, people tossing empty bottles of Dasani water and boxes of Swisher Sweets cigars on the remnants of the race car. But this is what happens every week. Empty bottles of Gatorade, Powerade and water litter the infield. Chewed up pieces of rubber sit everywhere. And dirty puddles of melted ice cubes make for messy footing.

This is what happens when the NASCAR circus comes to town, puts on show and then bolts for the next stop as fast as it arrived. Cleaning up this mess, inside the track, outside the track, along Volunteer Parkway, in the neighboring campgrounds, will be somebody else's chore, most likely sometime Sunday afternoon and Monday morning.

	Kevin Harvick looks on as fans scream for his attention during driver intorductions for Saturday night's Sharpie 500.

Some 160,000 people packed into this tiny border town for the weekend and few walked away disappointed. After all, how fitting is it that the Sharpie 500 was won by the Sharpie driver, Kurt Busch? How fitting is it that at ultra-cramped Bristol the race had to be stopped a record 20 times for caution, causing more boiling tempers than line jumpers at the campground showers?

"Typical Bristol," driver Jeff Burton said.

"Typical Bristol," driver Todd Bodine said.

"Typical Bristol," driver Ricky Rudd said.

Both on and off the track. While Busch celebrated his victory by mugging for the cameras, fans filed out of the Speedway under a shower of fireworks. The sober ones darted between cars, eager to beat the traffic, while the not-so-sober ones stumbled back and forth, struggling to find their way out.

The color that dominated the scene outside the speedway was an easily identifiable ultra bright red. A never-ending sea of taillights.

"It's pretty much like the gates of hell have opened up," a Sullivan County Sheriff's officer said. "Strange people turn much stranger when this race gets over."

	Working together to pack their tent, Mary Burns and Phil Anderson, of Louisville, Ky., pack up their belongings Sunday morning as they prepare to head home after a memorable weekend at Bristol Motor Speedway.

Inside the Speedway, sweat soaked crewmembers chugged Slim Fast, Gatorade and good ol' Pepsi to replenish lost fluids. Between trailers, they stripped their soaking wet uniforms and put on shorts and T-shirts.

The teams were just as eager to leave as the fans. Like the carnival that is there one day and gone the next, the race to pack up and head to the next stop is just as feverish as the race on the track.

With 10 laps to go, eight trailers already were packed and ready to hit the road. The race ended at 11:20 p.m. By midnight, the cars, the tools and everything else are packed, tied down and ready to hit the road. By 12:30, the trailers begin to roll out.

"It's not a problem getting out of here, now we have to go out and fight the 170,000 other people," Ricky Rudd's driver Barry "Hillbilly" Sheppard said. "That's the part that isn't a lot of fun."

The remnants of what's left behind isn't pretty. There are beer cans, Powerade bottles, bags of safety compound and cigarette butts for as far as the eye can see. Smoking is a common theme in these parts -- it isn't unusual to see NASCAR officials, workers, crewmember, even the Union 76 gas guys step away for a cigarette break.

Next to the trash, the most prevalent post-race theme is legions of beautiful women. Some are drivers' wives, other their girlfriends, but all of them attractive. On this night, two girls from Kenny Wallace's Stacker2 Dodge team steal the show. With tight shirts, tighter pants and hip-shaking strides, they waltz up and down the row of trailers post-race, commanding more attention than the drivers.

Dale Earnhardt Jr. hops out of his ninth-place Budweiser Chevrolet and giggles with the two ladies before talking to the media. As the ladies leave and make their way down the alley, everyone whistles.

"Come over here. Say Hello," a member of Jeff Gordon's DuPont team calls out. "I can't just leave empty handed."

But as much attention as they receive, Waltrip's mangled mess gets none. It just sits there, a constant reminder of this sport's violent nature. And a final clue that the NASCAR circus has moved on.

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com. He can be reached at wayne.drehs@espn3.com.