There is a place in Texas that goes by the name of "Wichita Falls". I have been to this place called "Wichita Falls" and can report that it is actually (in Texas!!!1!) named after a waterfall, and they do indeed turn it off at night. The name is of course Indian, and Wee-Chee-Tah roughly translates into "The Place Where Mail Never Gets Delivered", for back in the days when you had to wait six to eight weeks for your cardboard submarine to be arrive, it would usually wind up in Wichita, Kansas.
While waiting for the airplane which was supposed to take the sick little girl to Houston to cross Oklahoma, the city fathers decided that something would have to be done to give Wichita Falls some name recognition. They consulted a consultant who told them to do a fest like everybody else in Texas; cowpat throwing, seed spitting, sheep riding, etc. WF said no, they just turn into giant city wide keggers where all the citizens stay at home protecting their stuff. (Where I come from, a street dance means a lot of breaking and entering.) Plus, they didn't want it to be folksy; they wanted something modern. Thus, the Hotter Than Hell Hundred bicycle race was born. It was a big bold leap; I really thought they would go for the world's biggest farmhouse painted on a sawblade record.
It did put Wichita Falls on the map. This year, it may get the coveted "Most Dangerous Race" award, because the heat is statewide and you know the rest: people do stupid things.