Riding at Infineon

For those of you that know me know that I’ve had a fear of Infineon for the longest time. Being a trackside photographer, I see really bad stuff happen sometimes…Infineon has always been the worst of the worst.

I’ve seen people die at this track. I’ve seen peoples’ lives forever changed at this track… and for that reason, I’d only ever ridden once there before, about a year ago. I did 4 sessions at a Zoom Zoom day.

Well, we were invited to come ride with Pacific Track Time last week, and I said “fuck it, I’ll ride.” and I did. I wanted to get over this fear that I’ve had… Toe was my wingman for the day.

I can’t really say that I’m “over it.” I mean, the track is fun. It’s certainly a workout as well…but I don’t think I could ever bring myself to try and go fast at Infineon. There’s just too many dangers! It’s like Skaggs Springs Road…but instead of guard rails, there’s k-walls.

It’s a lot of fun to just go horse around with the homies tho…I’ll give it that much.

Here’s some footage of me, Toe, Chris from CT Racing, Darius, Tim, and a few other people from the very last session of the day.

Not What I’d Hoped For

My weekend started off on a bad note. Friday afternoon, I started feeling sick. I dunno what the hell is up with me the last year or so… I had pneumonia in December…then AGAIN in March… it’s like I have AIDS or something…just without all that nasty HIV part. :/

So Friday afternoon, I’ve got the stuffy/runny nose and a cough. Friday night, I feel like death. Saturday morning, I wake up to an awesome surprise of feeling so crummy that I want to die, but Lisa comes to the rescue with a round of leftover antibiotics! WHOOO!

//begin antibiotic, cough-drops, and DayQuil regiment.

Saturday was SCCA PDX. Basically, it’s a sort of time-trials solo race event thingo where people in fancy cars try and lap the track as quickly as possible, and at the end of the day, whoever goes fastest wins. I’m not entirely sure that there’s even trophies or anything.. it appears as though it’s simply a timed trackday for bragging rights. I could be wrong though…I’m still learning about this car stuff.

nissan gtr rfr fernley scca pdx
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Is It Really May?

This past weekend, Tomas the Terrible joined me after a brief hiatus for some 24 Hours of LeMons action up at Reno Fernley Raceway as well as shooting a wedding for a racer friend of ours.

We headed out Thursday night as there was a Friday practice for all the LeMons Racers.

What is The 24 Hours of LeMons? Well, put frankly, it’s a 24 hour endurance race where people buy pieces of shit cars for $500 or less, put all kinds of ridiculous decorations and whatnot on them…

sheen machine lemons rfr
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Punched in the Face

Another photographer I know recently sent me a message, angry about people stealing his photos and asking how I deal with it… It made me remember about a thread I’d started on BARF about a year ago. I’m constantly catching people taking pictures with their cell phones of my laptops; i.e., a snapshot of a picture of themself riding.

“Yo dawg, I heard you like taking pictures of pictures…”
xibit yo dawg
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ChuckIndelas Motor Speedway

Six days it took us, six days to travel over 2400 miles and to the far side of Arizona.

Six days of course is not counting any time used to prep for the trip, in this case making sure we replaced our tires. Mine because I had a tire that had carried me to Montana and back (and was the appropriate hardness to do so), and Joe’s because his previous attempt to ride this particular tire had ended with him growing a large hematoma on his buttocks. We took full advantage of a friend, Blaise, raiding his garage in the middle of what could have been for him a pleasant date, and commandeering his tire machine.

Oh well; better forgiveness than permission… and better surprise than dread. In retrospect it was well worth it, as neither my or Joe’s ham-fisted-throttle-happy-asses were tossed high and to the butchers.

The first leg was set at a 16 hour drive, which was quickly adjusted to 16:45 because we forgot Joe’s wheel at my house at the first attempt. The essentials of course were coffee for myself. A good strong kind with an exotic name like Kama Sutra or something of the sort. And for Joe, can upon can of Redbull.

shift racing redbull like a mofo

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The Things We Aren’t Supposed to Talk About

Though I have only been doing motorcycle film and photography for a couple years, I am often asked, “How do you get into the business?” Rather than giving an answer, I ask them, “what makes you want to get into the business?”

ducati naked

The answers are usually the same, ranging from love of motorcycles, to wanting to make money with their camera and doing what they love to do; taking photos and video. Though, there is a dark side that can’t really be explained until you actually DO it and experience it for yourself, but I’ll try.

Most folks see the end result of our work. Fancy photos posted up, or a new video of some bikes ripping it up on a track, engines screaming to a rockin soundtrack. Seems simple and fun.

Fun? ABSOLUTELY. Simple? Absolutely not.
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Redbull and Candy

So here I am again, so far past a proper time of day and well into an improper time of night. If I had a real deadline I would be beyond it, and probably unemployed. Lucky for me Joe has twin babies, and will be too tired to realize until it no longer really matters. Hell, I think the dirty clothes from the trip are still in the hamper. A week ago tomorrow we made the trip to Las Vegas. Las-effing-Vegas, city of lights and neon, where there should be no water, yet great man made lakes reside. Where fire erupts from volcano’s so heated you can feel it from the far side of the strip. And tomorrow, tomorrow we leave again, this time for Arizona. I should have written this the day we got back, maybe even started while we were still there. As is there won’t be any pictures until later, I’m sure Joe will add them as he see’s fit anyway. I’ve decided its not my responsibility this time.

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SCCA at Fernley

At some point late in the week I was hit with a sudden bout of curiosity regarding what had been planned for my weekend. Its a simple process, Joe posts up on the calendar what events we will be shooting, and I request those days off from my other jobs. There is just that single simple question of what I will actually be doing with that time.

As it turns out, SCCA stands for Sport Car Club of America…Cars, four wheels, sessions with strict passing rules, and strange and unusual makes like “Toyota,” “Subaru,” and “Nissan”.

muscle car

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Thawing Out

The sun is out, and the thaw has begun. Its time to dust off your leathers, question the condition of the tires that sat all winter, change your oil, and for some…time to put their engines together again, and back in the frame.

I myself have plans. Big plans. For most of those that know me know that I have not had proper fairings on my motorcycle for a long long time. Not since I had discovered the joy… the ecstasy of riding a superbike with motocross handlebars (THANKS JOE!). Fun is as fun does, and fun got in the way of fairings; wouldn’t let me turn the bars all the way.

This is all changing this season. The bike—my bike—that silly little R1 that I have decided is too much hooligan for the street, is getting new-used custom painted fairings.

I can’t wait.

PaintPlans
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New Paint Hot Chick

After having augered myself into the pavement in turn 5 at Reno Fernley Racetrack some months ago in October, the gixxer was left slightly bent and battered. Considering the violent nature of highsides and their natural propensity to destroy motorcycles, the gixxer faired pretty damned well in that crash.

Rory was behind me running a GoPro HD when I crashed, and here’s the video he made of it. Thanks Rory!

I broke the bleeder nipple off of the master cylinder. I slightly bent the right stock rearset, popped off the right side tail section, cracked my throttle tube, and smashed up some of the plastics on the right side. Oh, and I put a small hole in the frame from where the bar end stabbed it. That’s IT. I RODE the bike from the crash site to the infield, and would have ridden it all the way in, except that I didn’t want to carry leaking brake fluid across the front straight of the track.
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