As far back as I can remember, I've loved cars. I can remember sitting in my grandfather's old V8-powered Lincoln as a kid. He would look over at me and smile right before the light turned green, he mashed the pedal and "smoked" the unsuspecting car in the lane next to us. We'll ignore the fact that the other car had no idea we were "racing". For years as a child, I swore that old Lincoln was the fastest car on earth, even if it wouldn't have kept up with a modern V6-powered minivan. It was the feeling it created that kept the memory implanted in my brain for the decades to come. As time marched on, I remember being a young soldier stationed at Fort Hood, TX. Just about every penny Uncle Sam sent to my bank account somehow made its way under the hood of whatever I was driving at the time. Between deployments, my buddies and I spent countless hours wrenching on our cars in the barracks parking lot or at the local DIY shop known as Sprockets. When Friday night came, we skipped the bars and went to Test and Tune night at the Little River Dragway in Temple, TX to see who had built the fastest machine. I eventually made my way back to Colorado and discovered the mountain roads that would come to shape my automotive tastes for years to come. I would spend hours each week navigating the sharp twists and turns, finding my favorite canyons, slowly learning the immense satisfaction of nailing the perfect heel-toe downshift just before the apex of the corner. I found myself driving anything remotely sporty I could get my hands on, taking it straight to my favorite canyon roads, trying to experience and learn everything I could about every car I drove. I have zero brand loyalty, having owned cars from over a dozen different manufacturers- I didn't care about the badge on the hood, only concerning myself with finding machines that set my soul on fire. As time went on, I found myself signing up for a variety of motorsport oriented events that included a few performance driving schools, autocross events, open lapping days at local tracks, a bit of time attack/trials, a smidgen of off-roading and even some ice racing up at Georgetown Lake! With professional work demands (we'll use the term "professional" loosely here), along with other responsibilities at home, trying to commit to competition in any organized motorsport for a whole season was difficult to manage (seemingly impossible at times), but a few years back, I made time in my schedule and spent just about every weekend I could spare at the local SCCA autocross in the seat of my former Honda S2000.
That season marked my rookie year in organized motorsport, and it felt like drinking from a firehose. I learned so much, so fast. Along the way, I made a few friends, had plenty of fun, and (mostly) avoided getting lost in the sea of cones. While I wasn’t piloting the car to have for my class, I suppose I did alright. We won't get bogged down with the number of innocent cones I slaughtered or the gates I missed—it’s all part of the learning curve, right? The point is, I made some fond memories and somehow ended up with a few trophies at the end of the season.
Beyond dodging cones, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience all the major tracks here in Colorado—High Plains Raceway, Pueblo Motorsports Park, Pikes Peak International Raceway, and La Junta Raceway. Each has left its mark on my journey as a driver.
In the past year or two, I’ve found myself at a crossroads, wondering: Where do I go from here? I’ve toyed with the idea of dedicating my time, money, and effort to another motorsport league, and perhaps that will happen someday. But for now, something else has captured my imagination.
To explain, I need to take a step back. As a teenager—and, let’s be honest, a younger man—I spent countless hours with a controller in hand, immersed in the virtual worlds of Gran Turismo and Forza. One thought recently struck me: I’ve “driven” the Corkscrew at Laguna Seca so many times on a screen, but I’ve never tackled it in real life. That feels like a glaring omission!
So, over the next few years, I plan to set out on a new adventure: traveling across the country to visit and drive some of the legendary tracks I’ve only ever seen in video games. What’s it really like to navigate the Corkscrew at Laguna Seca? How scorching does the desert heat get at Buttonwillow? Does the short course at Lime Rock truly feel like a giant autocross course? These are questions I aim to answer. Along the way, I’m looking forward to discovering new sights, meeting new people, trying new foods and, most importantly, taking in the journey.
Of course, to pull this off, I’ll need the right car—something that can handle long road trips without shaking me to pieces, but also withstand the rigors of track days and still leave me grinning ear to ear. After driving just about everything, I think I might have found the perfect machine for the job.
But there’s work to be done. The car will need to be prepped for the demands of the track, fine-tuned to extract a bit of extra speed, and thoroughly shaken down at one of our local circuits. Naturally, every tweak will need to be tested—not just for performance but, you know, for science.
This is going to be one hell of a journey.
At this point, I suppose it’s time to introduce the car...
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