…at least I can shoot ’em.
I’ve got a deep passion for racing. Always have. Probably always will. I love the sound, the smell, the visceral sensation that only heading into a corner at the very threshold of braking can provide. It reminds you that you’re alive. It’s zen in the midst of chaos. There’s a certain calm that can only be found in the fear that you’re about to crash and burn, and a great deal of satisfaction in making it through in one piece.
These days life only affords me the occasional shot at racing bliss, so I do the next best thing I can – I load up my camera gear and head out to capture the experience in the second best way. There a little of the same adrenaline rush when trying to grab the perfect shot. Second best, but better then nothing. At least I get to immerse myself in the environment, to feel the visceral sensation that you can only feel when standing 4 feet from a straightaway while a 700HP beast fly’s past at speed. You feel it in your DNA. It takes your breath away – forceably.
Some go skydiving. Others wrestle alligators. Everybody’s got something they do that makes them feel alive. I race. When I can’t race, I shoot. Enjoy the pix.