As I left work yesterday, I was approached by Zack from Minerals. He let me know that there was a big, almost drag racing-like event going on today by the canyons. He told me that I should come by. They liked the photos that I took at the caves. That was nice to hear… it always feels good to have your work appreciated, especially when you are doing it for yourself, to better your skill, and obviously for documentation purposes. But documentation aside, it was cool that they recognized it and appreciated it.

I’d love to go to the races, but they are entirely out of my element. I’m the kind of girl who tends to stay in the lab and completely divulge herself into the complexities of nature and the ideas of life. I’m not exactly the same type that builds souped-up Mars rovers, although I completely appreciate the craft that goes into them. I’ve seen everyone building their imaginative contraptions around here, and I’m impressed by the nuance that’s transformed from ideas into reality. I wish I could make something functional and beautifully intricate in its own form. Like building a Jinx saw puzzle while simultaneously designing the instructions. For everything to work just right, every millimeter must be accounted for correctly—so much respect.

But that doesn’t help with my awkward level of intimidation, lol. Heh. But I did make a vow to myself that I’d put myself out there more this year, so I think I’m just going to bite my lip and power through the anxiety of obscure social interactions. I’m going to go.

So I packed my stuff up and headed out to the charging towers.

When I got there, there were already tufts of unsettled dust clouds in the air from donuts and drifting practice. Although, I was still one of the first to get there.

Since I had no real experience or practice, I just kind of hung out by the left pole by the charging tower, hoping not to get in anyone’s way or get run over, lol. Heh…

As everyone started to arrive, they rallied in their groups, and everyone took time to appreciate the creations, modifications, and, in some cases, abominations… you know, before they faced their fate and flirted with potential destruction.

I collected myself, and I had to see everything. It was all just so impressive. So, I left my safe zone by the charging pole to see what everyone had made.

Although most of it was above my head in the mechanics, it was obvious that they were all works of art in their own measure. There were so many complexities intertwined with imagination and the passion to defy the limits of reality. I was so excited to see these all in action.

A loud fog horn echoed through the open terrain and roughly dug-out obstacle courses. It was time for the first race: the four-wheel rovers.

Everyone gathered into their respective positions, and the atmosphere grew silent in anticipation as the dust settled to the ground.

In the vast silence that was now filled with electrifying excitement about to burst like a pin caressing the side of an overstretched balloon. I held my breath, not knowing what to expect or when to expect it…

A muffled voice on the front line shouted in a barely audible manner. “Three… Two…”  followed by the crack of a gun so loud I could have sworn my soul jumped from my body for a second.

The rovers blew past in a furry so unforgettable. Scaling up almost vertical terrain only to hairpin in the opposite direction. Drifting from one side of the course to the next in an almost coordinated ballet of speed, danger, and the rebellion of gravity. At some points catching air as if they were destined to reach the stars. They circled the course within minutes, filled with astonishing maneuverability accenting the questionable features of the newly defined vehicles.

I stood there in awe of what was before my eyes, taking in each stunt twist and turn, hoping to keep these in my memories because I knew no device could capture the essence, the atmosphere, and the excitement of what was encapsulated in this moment.

The flag was waved, and it was time for the next heat—the two-wheeler rovers.

As they lined up, I couldn’t tell you how these were going to perform. I’m not sure that everyone else could either. The structural integrity didn’t really… umm… add up. Even as they approached the starting line, some struggled to keep their vehicles standing.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but before I knew it, I heard the crack of the gunshot, and they were off. The momentum must have kept them upright, although there were some sketchy moments. These were able to maneuver a lot better. Since the quad construction did not limit them, they were zipping in and out of the terrain, almost using the obstacle course as merely a suggestion. I don’t think anyone in this heat was competing for first place but merely showing off what their constructions were capable of. Each vehicle trying a more daring move than the one before. When they finally rallied toward the finish line, I let out a sigh of relief. I thought for sure one of these was not going to come back in one piece, but it shows what I know.  I guess these guys knew what they were doing.

The last race was about to start. This was the bike race. I had brought my bike, but I was petrified to even let anyone know. There was no way I was getting involved in this. I would definitely — and I mean FOR SURE… end up in a body bag if I attempted what these guys were doing.

I watched them line up one by one, and in the distance, I saw my friend Landon from the hot air balloon memorial for Astrid. He was helping some of the guys make some final adjustments to their bikes and it seems like he brought his own to race in this heat as well. I guess I haven’t elaborated too much about Landon. He’s the kind of guy who always puts his team before him. He’s always the first one in the shop and the last one out. Extremely brilliant. He’s just the kind of guy that It’s hard not to want to be a better person around… And here I am with my bike. Hoping no one puts 2 and 2 together. Heh.

Before I knew it, the crack of the third gun echoed through the air and the dust cloud, much bigger than the other races, from the sheer number of bikes in this race. The obstacle course had a number of ramps that hadn’t been utilized up until this point. In droves, the bikes were popping off the ramps one by one as if trying to reach the moon and then landing effortlessly as if this kind of stunt was merely child’s play. It was astonishing to watch, even somewhat mesmerizing.

After several rounds around the track, it seemed no one was even in this for the title of first place, but they were just there to enjoy the thrill of the game and the camaraderie of peers. If there was a winner… I couldn’t tell you who it was because they just kept racing and trying one stunt after another, almost to show everyone and themselves what their creations were capable of. Some even joined in with jetpacks swirling around the course in motion, weaving in and out. Dear lord, there were even a few on bikes with jet packs. How they made it out alive, I couldn’t tell you. I tried my best to maneuver around the course to capture the motion and the energy surrounding these events.

I realized that the closer I could get to the ground, the more dramatic the shot would be. So here I was, almost lying down next to the track to get the best angle.

I heard a scream. “Behind you!!!” I looked back to see a bike barreling in my direction. I jumped up and bolted out of the way. The bike just missed me, but it didn’t miss my camera, which was in shattered pieces in the middle of the track. I gasped…  I was grateful for being okay but still shaken that things could have gone a lot worse; I just sat there in shock as I fought back tears and tried to be brave. I couldn’t be the weird girl coming to the races only to cry.

Landon had seen the whole thing. I saw him walking in my direction. Utterly mortified, I tried to think of any situation where I could play this off as cool, but that situation simply didn’t exist.

“It’s alright. I’ve fixed a couple of these before. I might be able to salvage this,” he said as he picked up the pieces of my broken camera. My response: “Cool…”

When the reality of the situation was that I, in fact, had no cool.

“You have this all wrong anyways.” he said. “You gotta at least try out the practice track. It’s really not that bad. The experience is worth 1000 pics.”

Dumbfounded by the series of events that happened way too close together, I agreed without thinking. “Yeah, sure,” I said… Wait what? What did I say?! What the Frick.

Before I knew it, I was riding my bike to the test track, pretending it was no big deal. Meanwhile, I could feel my heart beating out of my chest with fear, anticipation, nerves, and whatever else was stirring. The cocktail of my emotions was too convoluted to understand or sort through, especially when I had to focus on not dying.

I pulled up to the track with Landon. “I have to be honest. I have no clue what I’m doing,” I said, almost in disbelief that I had been able to combine those words to form a complete thought.

“It’s okay. We’ll take it slow. Just follow me,” he said, and I did.

He was right. The course started off relatively easy, and as you got further into it, the more intimidating parts seemed manageable in comparison. It’s funny how your perspective of things really does change. On one hand, being on the sidelines looking up from the ground at the jumps can seem massive and intimidating. But once you’re on the track and scaling up each jump little by little, everything seems a lot more manageable.

Feeling a little more secure in the situation at hand, we approached the final jump. It was big—like really big. Landon, by my side, looked at me. “So what do you think? Do you think you’re up for it?”

If not now, then when, right? I nodded. I was probably about 50% sure of my ability to do this. But, as they say, you only live once, so here we go. I pressed down on the pedal as hard as I could to achieve the speed needed to clear the jump. All of my knuckles were white, my eyes half winced, and my shoulder blades almost touched in a tense, unnatural posture as I sped up to the ramp.

In an instant, I was in the air. Everything seemed to go still and silent in this moment that slowed time that was awoken by my bike meeting the ground again.

I actually did it. I couldn’t believe it.

Still shaken by the experience, I thanked him for everything.