It’s 7am at a gas station on Highway 68 and there’s a car here worth more than my house, taking on fuel like it’s a Tuesday commute. The owner is in a fleece, holding a coffee, half awake, standing next to something that idles like it’s clearing its throat. Nobody is performing. That’s exactly why … Read more
There is a pair of 2001 Air Jordan 3 True Blues that I wore to American Le Mans and then never really wore again. Sears Point, 2001. The sky opened up and the mud got so deep that our car sat stuck in the parking lot long after the checkered flag. The shoes did not … Read more
I was in Tokyo on a once-in-a-lifetime trip, walking around Shibuya jet-lagged and hunting for coffee, when a sign stopped me. Nothing flashy. Just enough to make me turn my head. And behind the glass, parked inside like it had every right to be there, sat a widebody Volkswagen Golf with its fenders flared out … Read more
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