custombuild
Member
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2017
- Messages
- 19
Between 485 & 705 SQ/FT Mid-Century Moto Mecca Makeover
- Thread starter sakurama
- Start date
Workspaces between 485 and 705 squarefeet.
Thanks.
Sorry for the absence. I'm really struggling trying to figure out how to reinvent my life. There's been so much going on personally, professionally and with travel. I'm home a week and then gone again.
My focus has been trying to write more and shoot video. I've tried it before but went too deep and didn't have a plan and I'm working on scaling back and finding my voice. When I'm back from AZ I'll try to catch up here.
Gregor
Sorry for the absence. I'm really struggling trying to figure out how to reinvent my life. There's been so much going on personally, professionally and with travel. I'm home a week and then gone again.
My focus has been trying to write more and shoot video. I've tried it before but went too deep and didn't have a plan and I'm working on scaling back and finding my voice. When I'm back from AZ I'll try to catch up here.
Gregor
yhprum
Well-known member
Thanks Gregor, I know you’ll get where you want to be.
jlevers
Well-known member
Hey Gregor – I stopped getting notifications from this thread, and just realized it and came back to catch up on the last nine months or so.
I'm really sorry to read that things have been tough, with Lara and with work and with figuring out how to make sense of change. I'm a good bit younger than you, and so undoubtedly I'm much newer to this whole cycle of big life changes than you are...but the last several years have been real heavy on the (inner and outer) change front for me too, and so I feel for you. It's ****** hard.
The only pattern I've been able to find in these confusing, liminal parts of life is that I come out of them a characteristically different person. It's clichéd, but it's also annoyingly true. The most difficult periods of my life have led to some of the best things that have ever happened to me. It's obvious from reading this thread that you're someone who thinks hard about life and all its wonders and hardships, and tries to make sense of them...and I think that's the best attribute you could have when times are uncertain.
If I can prop up your confidence a little bit: I've been following this thread since I was 19 years old and trying to decide whether or not to leave college to go after life on my own terms. This thread was one of the things that helped me believe that it's possible to teach myself anything, because I could see you doing it. I'm now 25 – I dropped out of college in 2019 – and couldn't be happier with my decision. So I wanted to say thank you for that. (Amusingly, our paths have gotten closer over time...we both were involved in films that won awards at the PDX Moto Film Festival this year. Small world.)
Ever since I started reading this thread I've been in awe of your combination of hands-on skill, eye for beauty and design, ability to tell a cohesive story through all your disparate projects, and persistence in trying to do everything to the best of your abilities. I've used the contents of this thread as a benchmark to aspire to (spoiler: I've got a loooooooooooong ways to go), and I'm guessing I'm not the only one whose life has been affected by you sharing your work.
At the same time, I know that reinventing oneself is only possible if you give yourself enough space to be with the uncertainty. So I hope you give yourself that space, to whatever degree you can. It sounds like that's what you're shooting for by thinning the ever-growing herd of projects to work on.
(I hope you'll forgive my presumption of sharing "life advice" when I have so much less life experience than you or many of the other people here, but all I can do is say what feels true to me, right now.)
I'm really sorry to read that things have been tough, with Lara and with work and with figuring out how to make sense of change. I'm a good bit younger than you, and so undoubtedly I'm much newer to this whole cycle of big life changes than you are...but the last several years have been real heavy on the (inner and outer) change front for me too, and so I feel for you. It's ****** hard.
The only pattern I've been able to find in these confusing, liminal parts of life is that I come out of them a characteristically different person. It's clichéd, but it's also annoyingly true. The most difficult periods of my life have led to some of the best things that have ever happened to me. It's obvious from reading this thread that you're someone who thinks hard about life and all its wonders and hardships, and tries to make sense of them...and I think that's the best attribute you could have when times are uncertain.
If I can prop up your confidence a little bit: I've been following this thread since I was 19 years old and trying to decide whether or not to leave college to go after life on my own terms. This thread was one of the things that helped me believe that it's possible to teach myself anything, because I could see you doing it. I'm now 25 – I dropped out of college in 2019 – and couldn't be happier with my decision. So I wanted to say thank you for that. (Amusingly, our paths have gotten closer over time...we both were involved in films that won awards at the PDX Moto Film Festival this year. Small world.)
Ever since I started reading this thread I've been in awe of your combination of hands-on skill, eye for beauty and design, ability to tell a cohesive story through all your disparate projects, and persistence in trying to do everything to the best of your abilities. I've used the contents of this thread as a benchmark to aspire to (spoiler: I've got a loooooooooooong ways to go), and I'm guessing I'm not the only one whose life has been affected by you sharing your work.
At the same time, I know that reinventing oneself is only possible if you give yourself enough space to be with the uncertainty. So I hope you give yourself that space, to whatever degree you can. It sounds like that's what you're shooting for by thinning the ever-growing herd of projects to work on.
(I hope you'll forgive my presumption of sharing "life advice" when I have so much less life experience than you or many of the other people here, but all I can do is say what feels true to me, right now.)
Hi Jess and thank you so much for the note. It truly means the world to me and certainly came at the right time.
Yes, there's been a huge amount of tumult in my life but also in the world and frankly in everyone's life. Social media seems to just drown us in content and distract from the things that matter or actually give us purpose. My ex could never pull her face from the phone and it drove me crazy. I'd plan camping trips with cell phone coverage maps to try to get her to be present - she'd drive off to find cell service.
Lara went home to Colorado in November and that was a huge relief for me - it took so much of my mental energy to live with her. This year has also marked Nadia truly becoming a teenager and going from a bubbly and funny little girl to a sullen and depressed teen and that overnight change has been a struggle as I try to figure out how to reach and support her.
Through all of this I've been trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life. I know that my contributions here are appreciated and I've also realized, through learning more about my ADHD diagnosis that this thread served as a sort of "accountability buddy" for me. When I'd start a project I'd post it here and suddenly I had a promised to you all to finish it. And that actually helped me do it. I never got that support from J so you all are the reason that the house moved forward. So thanks for that!
The other thing I've realized, and this is something I've always known but lost site of, is that working in the shop is my therapy. It always has been. Over the past year I lost site of that. I have a new project for the shop and we'll get there.
My career has been squeezed on one side by social media which means I lose work to "influencers" who do a ****** job telling stories and making photos but do it for pennies because it's all just about cramming the internet with content and on the other side I'm losing work to AI which similarly creates more and more meaningless content but for free.
This has made the point of my life - telling stories with words and photos - feel worth less. Or maybe worthless. Yet I know that's not true in my heart because what I do resonates with so many people because of the depth, history and the wide swath of knowledge and experience that I bring to the table. Ages ago (15+ years ago?) a friend told me I should be telling my stories on my own site because all the things I did on forums and social media were my true worth and I was giving that away to people who built companies and profited from that. He was right. But in my mind what I did was for me, it was personal and not work. Work was my clients. If my Facebook profile ever went over 10000 followers I'd delete it because it seemed nuts.
Of course if I'd have done that or contributed to places that had the potential to make a living I'd probably have seamlessly made the transition to an "influencer" and would probably have a stable (or more stable) income. So I'm trying to figure that out now.
But that's a lot of words with no photos. So instead of continuing that I'm going to tell the story of my January trip because it's part of embracing a new path.
Here's a photo of Jenna:
Jenna has called me an "OG influencer" and when I object to the term she says, "You're not a regular influencer, you're the person that influences the influencers, you're the person that creates the stories - you're OG" which is not something I'd have considered.
I explained to Jenna that of course I'd love to go to the Philippines and ride motorcycles and take photos but it's expensive and I can't afford to just jet off to the other side of the world. "What if I get the sponsors to pay for the flight, arrange to get you a bike and you can stay at my house?" she asked.
Oh, well of course.
Jenna lives her father in Manilla in a rather nice house. He's a retired Citibank exec. BMW Philippines gave our team new BMW F900 GS's for the rally. Mosko Moto came on as a sponsor. Things fell into place.
This was the team that Jenna put together - she called it Team Daemon. It included "Coach Mel" (250 in back left) and Rob Hamilton (front left), Nong center, Me and Kirk. Three highly skilled locals and two "white boys". Rob and I were the "creatives" on the team - there to capture it. He's a great guy and has two pretty big YouTube channels and his first episode of our adventure is here:
Feel free to watch that now - it's two parts and does a fantastic job of capturing things. I contributed a lot of iPhone and drone to the video but it's all Rob on the editing.
After a few days of getting over jet lag and collecting our bikes the team met at Jenna's place so Rob and I could meet our team. After we did a "night run" into the downtown to shake out the bikes and get to know each other as riders. At this point I am still pretty vague on what we're doing. As a judge I know that the course can be challenging but that it's essentially a "tour" on big bikes and we'll get to see a lot of the island.
Jenna rides but not at the level of our team so she hopped onto Robs bike and we took off.
We ended up at super hip and tiny bar downtown and started to get to know each other. That first ride also cemented the fact that everyone was fast and very talented on the bikes. To say we blitzed through traffic with complete disregard for pretty much all the laws would be an understatement.
The next day we went to a local motocross track and I taught an impromptu photo class to some of the participants of the rally. We also did a talk at a local coffee shop to a group of riders. These were parts of earning my trip but they were also just fun.
This was all the few days before the rally. We'd talked about the format a little and it seemed like it would be a fun ride. Nong, Kirk and Mel would handle the navigation and Rob and I would keep pace and document. The rally was three days and 1200km or about 750 miles and we'd heard rumors that 95% of it was "on road" so 250 miles a day would not exactly be challenging so this seemed like it would be a fun trip.
Okay, that's our warm up and intro. I'll divide this up per day so that I've created an obligation to come back and post some more and hopefully reburn the pathways of posting here.
Thanks for the nudge Jess
Gregor
Yes, there's been a huge amount of tumult in my life but also in the world and frankly in everyone's life. Social media seems to just drown us in content and distract from the things that matter or actually give us purpose. My ex could never pull her face from the phone and it drove me crazy. I'd plan camping trips with cell phone coverage maps to try to get her to be present - she'd drive off to find cell service.
Lara went home to Colorado in November and that was a huge relief for me - it took so much of my mental energy to live with her. This year has also marked Nadia truly becoming a teenager and going from a bubbly and funny little girl to a sullen and depressed teen and that overnight change has been a struggle as I try to figure out how to reach and support her.
Through all of this I've been trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life. I know that my contributions here are appreciated and I've also realized, through learning more about my ADHD diagnosis that this thread served as a sort of "accountability buddy" for me. When I'd start a project I'd post it here and suddenly I had a promised to you all to finish it. And that actually helped me do it. I never got that support from J so you all are the reason that the house moved forward. So thanks for that!
The other thing I've realized, and this is something I've always known but lost site of, is that working in the shop is my therapy. It always has been. Over the past year I lost site of that. I have a new project for the shop and we'll get there.
My career has been squeezed on one side by social media which means I lose work to "influencers" who do a ****** job telling stories and making photos but do it for pennies because it's all just about cramming the internet with content and on the other side I'm losing work to AI which similarly creates more and more meaningless content but for free.
This has made the point of my life - telling stories with words and photos - feel worth less. Or maybe worthless. Yet I know that's not true in my heart because what I do resonates with so many people because of the depth, history and the wide swath of knowledge and experience that I bring to the table. Ages ago (15+ years ago?) a friend told me I should be telling my stories on my own site because all the things I did on forums and social media were my true worth and I was giving that away to people who built companies and profited from that. He was right. But in my mind what I did was for me, it was personal and not work. Work was my clients. If my Facebook profile ever went over 10000 followers I'd delete it because it seemed nuts.
Of course if I'd have done that or contributed to places that had the potential to make a living I'd probably have seamlessly made the transition to an "influencer" and would probably have a stable (or more stable) income. So I'm trying to figure that out now.
But that's a lot of words with no photos. So instead of continuing that I'm going to tell the story of my January trip because it's part of embracing a new path.
____________________________________________________
For the past few years I've been asked to judge a photo contest that was part of an adventure rally in the Philippines. I'd met one of the organizers through Instagram as she'd once lived in Portland and has followed me for years on different channels. This year she proposed that instead of just judging the event I should come and actually do it.
Here's a photo of Jenna:
Jenna has called me an "OG influencer" and when I object to the term she says, "You're not a regular influencer, you're the person that influences the influencers, you're the person that creates the stories - you're OG" which is not something I'd have considered.
I explained to Jenna that of course I'd love to go to the Philippines and ride motorcycles and take photos but it's expensive and I can't afford to just jet off to the other side of the world. "What if I get the sponsors to pay for the flight, arrange to get you a bike and you can stay at my house?" she asked.
Oh, well of course.
Jenna lives her father in Manilla in a rather nice house. He's a retired Citibank exec. BMW Philippines gave our team new BMW F900 GS's for the rally. Mosko Moto came on as a sponsor. Things fell into place.
This was the team that Jenna put together - she called it Team Daemon. It included "Coach Mel" (250 in back left) and Rob Hamilton (front left), Nong center, Me and Kirk. Three highly skilled locals and two "white boys". Rob and I were the "creatives" on the team - there to capture it. He's a great guy and has two pretty big YouTube channels and his first episode of our adventure is here:
Feel free to watch that now - it's two parts and does a fantastic job of capturing things. I contributed a lot of iPhone and drone to the video but it's all Rob on the editing.
After a few days of getting over jet lag and collecting our bikes the team met at Jenna's place so Rob and I could meet our team. After we did a "night run" into the downtown to shake out the bikes and get to know each other as riders. At this point I am still pretty vague on what we're doing. As a judge I know that the course can be challenging but that it's essentially a "tour" on big bikes and we'll get to see a lot of the island.
Jenna rides but not at the level of our team so she hopped onto Robs bike and we took off.
We ended up at super hip and tiny bar downtown and started to get to know each other. That first ride also cemented the fact that everyone was fast and very talented on the bikes. To say we blitzed through traffic with complete disregard for pretty much all the laws would be an understatement.
The next day we went to a local motocross track and I taught an impromptu photo class to some of the participants of the rally. We also did a talk at a local coffee shop to a group of riders. These were parts of earning my trip but they were also just fun.
This was all the few days before the rally. We'd talked about the format a little and it seemed like it would be a fun ride. Nong, Kirk and Mel would handle the navigation and Rob and I would keep pace and document. The rally was three days and 1200km or about 750 miles and we'd heard rumors that 95% of it was "on road" so 250 miles a day would not exactly be challenging so this seemed like it would be a fun trip.
Okay, that's our warm up and intro. I'll divide this up per day so that I've created an obligation to come back and post some more and hopefully reburn the pathways of posting here.
Thanks for the nudge Jess
Gregor
Last edited:
E12-535iTurbo
Well-known member
Yes, Greg is back! Thanks for sharing Gregor!
Always willing to be your accountability buddy, Gregor. You are a great storyteller, a great photographer, and have so much skill in so many fascinating areas. If posting here can once again be a positive part of your life, I'm all in.
yhprum
Well-known member
Wow, what a fantastic trip! That will leave you with some lasting memories. Sometimes the universe delivers!
Horror Business
Well-known member
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2014
- Messages
- 511
Excellent! Looking forward to hearing about the rest of your trip.
BORING HOP YARD
Well-known member
Thank you for sharing, Gregor!
msharley
Well-known member
WOW!
Good for you!!
Good for you!!
Gregor, I agree with @Choirboy above that you are a great storyteller, and a fantastic photographer. It always brings a smile to my face when I see that there is an update in this thread. - For me personally, your approach to the shop projects and house build has been an inspiration for years. - I've had to teach my wife about the 'what would Gregor do' decision making process when she sometimes questions my approach to some of the home improvement tasks that I undertake. - Working in the garage and on home improvement projects is also therapy for me, and I am really looking forward to seeing some of the future projects you may wish to share. - Thanks for being an inspiration.
Thanks guys, it feels good to post again. Ben and I are starting a project in the shop as well and that feels good as well.
Wednesday night Jenna told us that we'd need to get up early to be at the start of the event by 7am for tech inspection. Rob and I had spent most of that day trying to pack our bikes and get any gear we'd forgotten. Neither of us had done this event and we really had no idea what we were in for. Rob had visited Jenna and done some trips in the Philippines before and knew the guys but not the event. I was completely in the dark.
This is Stavro. He's from Serbia and while not an "official" member of our five rider team he was a part of the team as an official event photographer. He is a force of nature, a former parkour practitioner and video and photo genius and also a great rider. Imagine a Border Collie with a camera on a motorcycle. If he wasn't so nice you'd hate him for being good at so many things.
We got up at 4am after going to bed at 1am but we knew that Thursday was going to be a chill day of tech since the event started officially on Friday. Stavro was to be our guide and had the coordinates to meet the local guys somewhere halfway to the event start. Jenna lives in a gated community and it's a maze to find your way from her place to the main highway and when we finally got there it was a simple north, south or left, right. I was pretty sure we were supposed to go south but Stavro chose north.
No big deal we'll just turn around and be on our way.
No, we were on a skyway into downtown Manila and there were only two exits and no way to U-turn or rip through a median. We had Cardo's in our helmets but Rob and I did not have our meeting point. We started to hit rush hour traffic and Google kept giving us wrong directions. Traffic was so dense and there were no shoulders so our only option was to split lanes. We did this for over an hour threading our bars between trucks essentially walking our bikes through gridlock. It took us almost 2 hours to just get back to the wrong turn.
At some point in this bumper to bumper madness I started to lose sight of the guys in the maze of trucks. Then I lost communication. I thought I was in front so I found a place to wait for them and sat for 15 minutes hoping that our comms would connect. They did not. I was now lost, separated from the one person who had our meeting place, it was 7:30am and we were officially late for tech which could disqualify us and I didn't know where the event was even taking place.
I spied another rider on an adventure bike and signaled to him that I wanted to follow him. His number plate told me he was part of the event so at least I could follow him there. After 30 or so minutes he pulled into a rest area and suddenly there were a hundred bikes. Why was everyone here at 8am if tech closed at 7? He knew who I was (this was a frequent thing which I found sort of amazing) and as we talked I mentioned how we'd missed our tech deadline and he looked confused. "what? no, tech opens at 7am but goes all day until 5pm. Why would guys want to get up so early to be there at 7am?" he said. I also wondered that. Rob and I were really concerned about sleep so it seemed absurd to forgo sleep to show up at 7 for tech that happened all day.
At the rest area I managed to use my phone to text the group chat and find out that Rob and Stavro had met Mel and they were waiting for me at a gas station 50k down the road. I was bothered by this self inflicted lack of sleep but glad to finally be back in the group.
Rolling into the event I was surprised by all the banners. The Philippines is a 3rd world country and the US is the supposedly the biggest ADV market but this felt big.
The start was at the Villa Escudero Resort - a swanky resort on a river in the south. Most of the competitors (and there were over 400) stayed in a giant open gym sleeping on the floor. We had that first bungalow in the frame above on the river because we were, ostensibly, VIP's of the event.
Clearly there was some confusion about our status but having only three hours of sleep the night before I was not going to argue with the accommodations.
Also, the hype machine behind this event just sort of blew my mind. Here's a poster of me.
I mean what the heck? Am I a Marvel character?
At this point I was almost baffled - this was an ADV rally larger and better produced than anything I'd ever experienced in the states. 85 teams of 5 riders and a massive amount of production and planning plus a huge amount of support from manufacturers. What was I getting into? I never had any idea this event was so large.
I really hate vertical photos but this was our lunch spot - tables in a river below a waterfall. The place was pretty wild and the afternoon was relaxing. I'm 99% sure we could have slept in until 8 or 9 or 10 and still had a great afternoon but we'd get a full night of sleep tonight.
At night there was huge performance at the hall while we had another pretty great dinner. All the teams sat together and after the performances and some introductions we were to draw starting order. All of this seemed really performative to me and I was still confused as to what we were doing. Why does it matter? We're riding 95% roads, 250 miles a day so why was start order important? It just seemed confusing.
Jenna was thrilled that we got a low start number of 20. Evidently if we'd gotten a higher number we would be struggling to pass teams for the whole event. I'd seen our team ride and we were fast, really fast. No one had any trouble slicing through traffic.
At this point I began to understand the format of the event. It was a sort of point to point challenge where at 10pm the night before the organizers sent out the following days coordinates. Each team could plot their own route based on local knowledge, mapping software or whatever you wanted. Each day also contained a charity stop at a local underserved school where each team would deliver some collection of school supplies. At each stop you had to take a team photo to prove you made the stop. Organizers had to accept or receive that photo before you could continue. There were also some speed controls along the course and you could be penalized for going too fast in a village. Lastly we had controlled starts and stops. Start was 5am each day and bikes had to be stopped by 10pm and all our phones had trackers to enforce that.
17 hours to go 250 miles? That means we just need to average 14mph. What am I missing here?
We finally got our route planned around midnight. Start was 5am and so we'd plan to get up at 3:30 to eat, make coffee and repack our gear. Rob and I brought tents, sleeping bags, cook kits and a fair bit of camera gear. We both anticipated that we'd ride, stop to take in the amazing views and then call it a night around 5pm so we could set up camp while it was daylight and then take photos and make dinner and of course have time to sit around a campfire and relax with our team...
That's not what happened. At all. Not even close.
With another 3 hours of sleep we woke and packed our bikes. At 4am music started to blare from the stage and what can only be described as a WWE hype man started a nonstop, energy drink fueled introduction of the teams that echoed through the jungle. There was a parade lap, interviews and finally we were flagged off at 20 minutes past 5am.
Day one is next.
Gregor
Wednesday night Jenna told us that we'd need to get up early to be at the start of the event by 7am for tech inspection. Rob and I had spent most of that day trying to pack our bikes and get any gear we'd forgotten. Neither of us had done this event and we really had no idea what we were in for. Rob had visited Jenna and done some trips in the Philippines before and knew the guys but not the event. I was completely in the dark.
This is Stavro. He's from Serbia and while not an "official" member of our five rider team he was a part of the team as an official event photographer. He is a force of nature, a former parkour practitioner and video and photo genius and also a great rider. Imagine a Border Collie with a camera on a motorcycle. If he wasn't so nice you'd hate him for being good at so many things.
We got up at 4am after going to bed at 1am but we knew that Thursday was going to be a chill day of tech since the event started officially on Friday. Stavro was to be our guide and had the coordinates to meet the local guys somewhere halfway to the event start. Jenna lives in a gated community and it's a maze to find your way from her place to the main highway and when we finally got there it was a simple north, south or left, right. I was pretty sure we were supposed to go south but Stavro chose north.
No big deal we'll just turn around and be on our way.
No, we were on a skyway into downtown Manila and there were only two exits and no way to U-turn or rip through a median. We had Cardo's in our helmets but Rob and I did not have our meeting point. We started to hit rush hour traffic and Google kept giving us wrong directions. Traffic was so dense and there were no shoulders so our only option was to split lanes. We did this for over an hour threading our bars between trucks essentially walking our bikes through gridlock. It took us almost 2 hours to just get back to the wrong turn.
At some point in this bumper to bumper madness I started to lose sight of the guys in the maze of trucks. Then I lost communication. I thought I was in front so I found a place to wait for them and sat for 15 minutes hoping that our comms would connect. They did not. I was now lost, separated from the one person who had our meeting place, it was 7:30am and we were officially late for tech which could disqualify us and I didn't know where the event was even taking place.
I spied another rider on an adventure bike and signaled to him that I wanted to follow him. His number plate told me he was part of the event so at least I could follow him there. After 30 or so minutes he pulled into a rest area and suddenly there were a hundred bikes. Why was everyone here at 8am if tech closed at 7? He knew who I was (this was a frequent thing which I found sort of amazing) and as we talked I mentioned how we'd missed our tech deadline and he looked confused. "what? no, tech opens at 7am but goes all day until 5pm. Why would guys want to get up so early to be there at 7am?" he said. I also wondered that. Rob and I were really concerned about sleep so it seemed absurd to forgo sleep to show up at 7 for tech that happened all day.
At the rest area I managed to use my phone to text the group chat and find out that Rob and Stavro had met Mel and they were waiting for me at a gas station 50k down the road. I was bothered by this self inflicted lack of sleep but glad to finally be back in the group.
Rolling into the event I was surprised by all the banners. The Philippines is a 3rd world country and the US is the supposedly the biggest ADV market but this felt big.
The start was at the Villa Escudero Resort - a swanky resort on a river in the south. Most of the competitors (and there were over 400) stayed in a giant open gym sleeping on the floor. We had that first bungalow in the frame above on the river because we were, ostensibly, VIP's of the event.
Clearly there was some confusion about our status but having only three hours of sleep the night before I was not going to argue with the accommodations.
Also, the hype machine behind this event just sort of blew my mind. Here's a poster of me.
I mean what the heck? Am I a Marvel character?
At this point I was almost baffled - this was an ADV rally larger and better produced than anything I'd ever experienced in the states. 85 teams of 5 riders and a massive amount of production and planning plus a huge amount of support from manufacturers. What was I getting into? I never had any idea this event was so large.
I really hate vertical photos but this was our lunch spot - tables in a river below a waterfall. The place was pretty wild and the afternoon was relaxing. I'm 99% sure we could have slept in until 8 or 9 or 10 and still had a great afternoon but we'd get a full night of sleep tonight.
At night there was huge performance at the hall while we had another pretty great dinner. All the teams sat together and after the performances and some introductions we were to draw starting order. All of this seemed really performative to me and I was still confused as to what we were doing. Why does it matter? We're riding 95% roads, 250 miles a day so why was start order important? It just seemed confusing.
Jenna was thrilled that we got a low start number of 20. Evidently if we'd gotten a higher number we would be struggling to pass teams for the whole event. I'd seen our team ride and we were fast, really fast. No one had any trouble slicing through traffic.
At this point I began to understand the format of the event. It was a sort of point to point challenge where at 10pm the night before the organizers sent out the following days coordinates. Each team could plot their own route based on local knowledge, mapping software or whatever you wanted. Each day also contained a charity stop at a local underserved school where each team would deliver some collection of school supplies. At each stop you had to take a team photo to prove you made the stop. Organizers had to accept or receive that photo before you could continue. There were also some speed controls along the course and you could be penalized for going too fast in a village. Lastly we had controlled starts and stops. Start was 5am each day and bikes had to be stopped by 10pm and all our phones had trackers to enforce that.
17 hours to go 250 miles? That means we just need to average 14mph. What am I missing here?
We finally got our route planned around midnight. Start was 5am and so we'd plan to get up at 3:30 to eat, make coffee and repack our gear. Rob and I brought tents, sleeping bags, cook kits and a fair bit of camera gear. We both anticipated that we'd ride, stop to take in the amazing views and then call it a night around 5pm so we could set up camp while it was daylight and then take photos and make dinner and of course have time to sit around a campfire and relax with our team...
That's not what happened. At all. Not even close.
With another 3 hours of sleep we woke and packed our bikes. At 4am music started to blare from the stage and what can only be described as a WWE hype man started a nonstop, energy drink fueled introduction of the teams that echoed through the jungle. There was a parade lap, interviews and finally we were flagged off at 20 minutes past 5am.
Day one is next.
Gregor
Finallygotit
ALLIANCE MEMBER
tricksel
Member
I'm so eager to read the next part...! Gimme, gimme, gimme!
The photos, the storytelling... Great!
And, above all, so great to see you back here. You belong here, and if it's the accountability we can be for you, that's what we'll be. And yes, I'm talking for others now. Sorry about that, but I can't imagine people feel different.
The photos, the storytelling... Great!
And, above all, so great to see you back here. You belong here, and if it's the accountability we can be for you, that's what we'll be. And yes, I'm talking for others now. Sorry about that, but I can't imagine people feel different.
lilscorpion
Well-known member
Though I have no official diagnosis, I’ve realized watching both my kids grow up with AD(H)D that I likely have one or the other. Everything you said is maybe 1000% true about me. I can easily wander around the shop and make relatively or progress however sharing helps me find it somehow.
I’m in violent agreement on the therapy statement. Over the years, thru my own life challenges, it’s been a thing that has kept my brain, active, distracted (when needed), challenged…maybe it had even kept me alive. I’ve noticed that when I end up with long absences from shop I just don’t feel right and it may not be all mental. I hope you’re able to find the shop again (both literally and figuratively) like you have in the past. Obviously I don’t know this for certain but it wouldn’t surprise me if you may find things outside the shop to rebalance if you do like they have for me. I sincerely hope so. When I see your handle I think about you as a craftsman, a problem solver, a creative. I know you’re a master story teller and a pro with a camera but I also see you equally so with a track saw or a welder. Look forward to seein some shop time here soon….
LeonardY
Well-known member
I see a resemblance...
I mean what the heck? Am I a Marvel character?
You may need to get yourself a Ironman suit.
yhprum
Well-known member
Great stuff Gregor! You’re braver than me, I’ve been through Manilla a few times and few other similar exotic destinations on business travel. I don’t think I’m brave enough to ride those streets lol.
Grant Gunderson
Well-known member
I
Gregor, I’ve had the exact same experience with my ski photography. I had become the most published photographer in skiing globally with 300+ magazine covers and on a typical year I’d be gone 4- 6 months straight doing shoots for various ski clients or major commercial work that needed ski content. 3 years ago I had my best year ever financially than the following year not a single client or contract. It’s been totally dead the last 2 years. It’s mind boggling to me how quickly things changed. It used to be I had athletes ( including former olymians, world champions etc) begging me to give them a chance to shoot with me. Now none seem to be interested in doing photo projects.
I haven’t seen very much AI replace what I was doing, but a ton of “influencers “ creating **** content for damn near free. Wish I had a better idea of a solution to it, all I know is I’d rather do something else than participate in the race to the bottom with the so called influencers. God I hate that term too as I don’t find any of that content influential.
It seems to me there is a common thread of a burnout of social media, and at some point brands etc are going to realize they are getting what they pay for with cheap ****** influencer based content and I’m hopeful there will be a return to wanting high quality work but I don’t know when that will be and financially can’t wait around for it to happen.
It’s sad to see an entire industry vaporizing as fast as digital replaced film.
This is why I launched a MTB suspension rebuilding business last summer. It hasn’t replaced the loss of income from the photo business yet but at least it’s slowing the loss of funds. If you ever want to come up and bike in Bellingham hit me up.
Thanks guys.
It's funny you posted that Tony Stark reference - my son's friends have nicknamed me Tony Stark because they are all coming to an age where they appreciate the shop and the making of things.
Scorp - I've pushed back against the ADHD thing because it felt like a trend but the more I have read the more I see aspects of this that describe me. My girlfriend Katie has ADHD and was also diagnosed with mild autism and the tendency is to think of these things as deficits or problems but part of our creativity and focus comes from this. Katie's job is numbers (I've never dated someone quite like her) and she has a Severance like ability to see patterns in them and recognize trends. So it's really about having a better understanding of yourself and how you work. We've all probably done this in many ways and we come up with tricks to get us to finish projects but we never had a name for it. It was just our way of coping.
Grant - you obviously still have all the skills. Part of the frustration, and I'm sure you can relate, is that our skill set is that we make photographs, we don't take them. All the influencers are the million monkeys on a million typewriters that will eventually type out a work of Shakespeare. We don't get lucky we create it. I see that when I do jobs where we've used influencers for models. They will make great photos from a situation that I created by choosing the location, the time of day, the angle, the props - I can build the perfect moment because of my long history. They can push the button.
I think your idea to switch gears is good. I'm looking to do the same but I'm also realizing that my value is the producing and story and less the actual photography. I used to push hard into very complicated lighting because, for the moment, that's not something that can be done by a computer but AI is getting better. I have some other ideas and I'm actually going to reach out here for help because I've realized that I can't always do everything by myself and that I work better with a team or a partner.
But let's get back to the Philippines.
Once on the road and with all our Cardo devices synced we were flying. While we started in 20th within an hour or two we had passed our way to third. I say this as if it was a race but it's not. But when you put a bunch of guys on motorcycles and someone is in front it becomes a race.
All of us are great riders. Nong, center above, was the youngest but the guys gave him the job of "spear" which was their term for lead rider and it was a big deal to him. The team "leader" was Kirk who was quiet, two steps ahead and always seemed to have the plan. Mel was there for his good looks and constant humor. That became a running joke, "Are you still beautiful in back there Mel?"
Above is a Jeepney. These are buses that were created from the left over Willy's Jeeps that the US left behind. There is barely anything left from what they started as. They've been stretched, beefed up, and they have these wild carnival bodies. You can ride inside, outside or on top. Think a cross between a taxi, a bus and a merry-go-round.
Riding in third world countries.
Some people find it terrifying because they're used to the order and rules of first world countries but I find it exhilarating. In a third world country there is one rule - don't hit anyone or be a jerk. It's a surprisingly simple and effective rule and honestly the only one you need. We were told that it's better to pass on the left, but you could pass on the right, or on the shoulder or honestly anywhere you wanted. Just don't hit anyone. You can come close to hitting them as long as you don't. There's zero rage like there would be here if you pass by a pedestrian with a few inches to spare because they know the rule too and they know you're not a jerk because there's 10 trucks, 4 trikes and 7 bicycles dozens of dogs and chickens and you've got somewhere to go.
Oh, the other rule, which was alarmingly specific was do not hit a chicken! This was important because you'd have to stop and then pay for the chicken but not just the chicken you killed, but also all the eggs it would have produced over it's life and also all the chicks and chickens it would have produced. Hitting a chicken was like buying a supermarket of chicken progeny far into the future. Do. NOT. Hit. A. Chicken.
What about a dog?
Dogs were way cheaper - like $5 or maybe $10 if it was a fancy dog. You can hit a dog but if you're going to hit a dog make sure it's an ugly one. Those are the cheapest. So avoid the chickens and aim for the ugly dog. Got it.
We passed a dozen teams because Nong would call out the traffic and dangers and we could pass blindly. Not without caution of course because I will never, ever ride outside of my site distance or without a bail out, but we'd get a "White pickup, clear! clear! clear! - hold for Jeepney, hold, hold, hold - all clear!" from Nong. Mel rode sweep and would radio up "Complete, complete!" to say that we'd all gotten around the traffic. If the road was clear we'd be flying at 100-130kph which, on a tiny paved road, felt like mph.
After rain, twisties and many villages we got to the area of the first checkpoint which was supposed to be a waterfall in the jungle. Before turning off we stopped at a "restaurant" for lunch. The menu was what was in the pot. Often is was a form of chicken and some sort of stewed vegetable. There always seemed to be fried chicken.
So when the organizers said "95% on road" this was still considered a road. I took that in and adjusted my calculations for our pace as we could go 20-30mph (sorry, I'm going to mix my measurements) but it still seemed like an easy thing when combined with our blazing pavement speed.
We got to a spot where the road became more muddy and decided we were only a mile or so from the waterfall and so we hiked in. At this point we were the first or second team to the checkpoint.
I would have loved to swim there, the water was warm and the temps were mild. The hike in was steep, daunting and slick and we had to use vines to keep from falling.
This was our first checkpoint photo - us at the waterfall. We were either first or second on the road and, as I suspected, this was going to be an easy ride. The hike out was tough but no big deal. We then had to decide the best route to the next checkpoint. Kirk went down the road a little bit and saw that it got more muddy and so we decided to take shortcut that would avoid the mud but might be a "smaller road."
Again, this is what the organizers consider "a road" because it's listed as such on a map. I'm again recalculating our pace and while this is slower the other teams are surely struggling on the muddy roads while we're flying on this dry single and double track.
Until we weren't.
Now the small roads were getting muddy and while it was "good mud" with traction it was slower. We eventually ended up in a very tiny village and were lucky to find some soda's and snacks and a school. At the beginning of this Jenna had asked for our logos to make stickers and she presented us with hundreds of stickers at the start. "It's for the kids - they love them" she said.
That was an understatement of epic proportions. Wherever we went we were mobbed by kids wanting stickers. School stopped and the kids rushed from classrooms for the chance to see these power ranger dressed motorcyclists and to fight for a sticker.
Our "shortcut" was very slow but eventually we found pavement and it seemed like we were on track to finish our checkpoints by 5 or 6 until Kirk realized we'd missed a turn, a school and a checkpoint. We'd have to go back into the jungle an hour to find this village we'd missed.
This was the first time I had any sense of how big a deal this was to locals. School closed for the day and the entire village came to the checkpoint. We could not walk we were so surrounded by kids (and adults) who wanted selfies and photos. Kids as young as 4 or 5 had phones and asked for selfies with you. The next question was were you from. I did not expect "USA" to get the reaction that it did but everyone would go crazy. That woman in the blue thought I was a movie star. It was a trip.
We left and it took us hours to just back to where we'd realized we'd make a mistake. At this point we're seeing other teams and their bikes are clean. We're also now way down in the order. Our shortcut wasn't, we're way behind and in looking at the map there's almost no way we'll get to the final checkpoint. Does that mean we're disqualified? No, we just have to get day one's checkpoints on day two which means an even longer day.
I'm doing more recalculating in my head.
We've already ridden 200 miles and our mistake has put us way back and our only option is to push as hard as we can and get as far as we can before the cutoff. We had a plan to camp at this area overlooking the ocean and Rob and I were excited for the visuals from that - plus the relaxing, the hanging out.
At this point we heard a new plan from Nong, "Guys, new plan. Less photos, less video. More riding, less stopping" Go faster was not in the directive because there wasn't a way to go faster safer.
It started raining and the sun set.
Wait, we're going to ride until 10pm? Are you serious? We got up at 3:30am and it was now 7pm and I've had 6 hours of sleep in two days and I'm not feeling it. At all. What the actual ****?
This was the point that it changed for me. Where I realized I wasn't on a fun adventure ride. I wanted to quit. I was falling asleep on the bike and we were flying on wet roads with limited visibility and making questionable passes. It felt like I was the only one really struggling and while my fitness has improved dramatically over the last couple of years maybe my age was limiting me here. I was the oldest by 10 years and had no trouble keeping pace on a bike but now I was dying. I asked for a Redbull but there was nothing open and the gas stations just sold gas. Not the 24 hour junk food bonanzas that are the gas stations in the states.
In my mind I was questioning this whole thing. It wasn't a race, we get no prize for finishing first or 10th and while finishing was important it was starting to feel dangerous. Kirk hopped on his bike and came back 5 minutes later with a "Cobra" which he explained was a local Philippine energy drink. I have no idea what was in it or where he found it because everything was closed but I needed that. I drank it in one go, put on my helmet and Mel promised a hotel two hours away.
Now I was wide awake. The rain eventually stopped. We were no longer stopping for photos so I started shooting from the bike as we rode. Jenna expected me to have amazing photos but that objective seemed to be lost on the guys. They had done this event several times before but had not finished under the deadline. Ah, I see now, I'm part of a vendetta. A score settling.
We finally reached the hotel around 9:30 just before cutoff. At some point another bike caught us as we were flying through the night and at the hotel we discovered it was Stavro. He was a free agent but he also was part of our Google group so he saw use ahead on the map and raced to catch us.
He told us we'd made up a bunch of places and that no team finished day one's checkpoints. That felt good but also bad. We'd have to really make up time tomorrow to get back on track.
We showered while the staff woke up kitchen help to come make us dinner and at 10pm we got the checkpoints for the next day so we spent several hours planning the next days route. By the time we finished eating and planning it was close to 1am and we set alarms for 4am so we'd be able to get up, have breakfast pack the bikes and be ready to roll at 5am.
Another night of three hours of sleep. That's now three days on 9 hours of sleep. What the **** had I gotten myself into?
So that was day one.
Gregor
It's funny you posted that Tony Stark reference - my son's friends have nicknamed me Tony Stark because they are all coming to an age where they appreciate the shop and the making of things.
Scorp - I've pushed back against the ADHD thing because it felt like a trend but the more I have read the more I see aspects of this that describe me. My girlfriend Katie has ADHD and was also diagnosed with mild autism and the tendency is to think of these things as deficits or problems but part of our creativity and focus comes from this. Katie's job is numbers (I've never dated someone quite like her) and she has a Severance like ability to see patterns in them and recognize trends. So it's really about having a better understanding of yourself and how you work. We've all probably done this in many ways and we come up with tricks to get us to finish projects but we never had a name for it. It was just our way of coping.
Grant - you obviously still have all the skills. Part of the frustration, and I'm sure you can relate, is that our skill set is that we make photographs, we don't take them. All the influencers are the million monkeys on a million typewriters that will eventually type out a work of Shakespeare. We don't get lucky we create it. I see that when I do jobs where we've used influencers for models. They will make great photos from a situation that I created by choosing the location, the time of day, the angle, the props - I can build the perfect moment because of my long history. They can push the button.
I think your idea to switch gears is good. I'm looking to do the same but I'm also realizing that my value is the producing and story and less the actual photography. I used to push hard into very complicated lighting because, for the moment, that's not something that can be done by a computer but AI is getting better. I have some other ideas and I'm actually going to reach out here for help because I've realized that I can't always do everything by myself and that I work better with a team or a partner.
But let's get back to the Philippines.
_________________________________________________
Once on the road and with all our Cardo devices synced we were flying. While we started in 20th within an hour or two we had passed our way to third. I say this as if it was a race but it's not. But when you put a bunch of guys on motorcycles and someone is in front it becomes a race.
All of us are great riders. Nong, center above, was the youngest but the guys gave him the job of "spear" which was their term for lead rider and it was a big deal to him. The team "leader" was Kirk who was quiet, two steps ahead and always seemed to have the plan. Mel was there for his good looks and constant humor. That became a running joke, "Are you still beautiful in back there Mel?"
Above is a Jeepney. These are buses that were created from the left over Willy's Jeeps that the US left behind. There is barely anything left from what they started as. They've been stretched, beefed up, and they have these wild carnival bodies. You can ride inside, outside or on top. Think a cross between a taxi, a bus and a merry-go-round.
Riding in third world countries.
Some people find it terrifying because they're used to the order and rules of first world countries but I find it exhilarating. In a third world country there is one rule - don't hit anyone or be a jerk. It's a surprisingly simple and effective rule and honestly the only one you need. We were told that it's better to pass on the left, but you could pass on the right, or on the shoulder or honestly anywhere you wanted. Just don't hit anyone. You can come close to hitting them as long as you don't. There's zero rage like there would be here if you pass by a pedestrian with a few inches to spare because they know the rule too and they know you're not a jerk because there's 10 trucks, 4 trikes and 7 bicycles dozens of dogs and chickens and you've got somewhere to go.
Oh, the other rule, which was alarmingly specific was do not hit a chicken! This was important because you'd have to stop and then pay for the chicken but not just the chicken you killed, but also all the eggs it would have produced over it's life and also all the chicks and chickens it would have produced. Hitting a chicken was like buying a supermarket of chicken progeny far into the future. Do. NOT. Hit. A. Chicken.
What about a dog?
Dogs were way cheaper - like $5 or maybe $10 if it was a fancy dog. You can hit a dog but if you're going to hit a dog make sure it's an ugly one. Those are the cheapest. So avoid the chickens and aim for the ugly dog. Got it.
We passed a dozen teams because Nong would call out the traffic and dangers and we could pass blindly. Not without caution of course because I will never, ever ride outside of my site distance or without a bail out, but we'd get a "White pickup, clear! clear! clear! - hold for Jeepney, hold, hold, hold - all clear!" from Nong. Mel rode sweep and would radio up "Complete, complete!" to say that we'd all gotten around the traffic. If the road was clear we'd be flying at 100-130kph which, on a tiny paved road, felt like mph.
After rain, twisties and many villages we got to the area of the first checkpoint which was supposed to be a waterfall in the jungle. Before turning off we stopped at a "restaurant" for lunch. The menu was what was in the pot. Often is was a form of chicken and some sort of stewed vegetable. There always seemed to be fried chicken.
So when the organizers said "95% on road" this was still considered a road. I took that in and adjusted my calculations for our pace as we could go 20-30mph (sorry, I'm going to mix my measurements) but it still seemed like an easy thing when combined with our blazing pavement speed.
We got to a spot where the road became more muddy and decided we were only a mile or so from the waterfall and so we hiked in. At this point we were the first or second team to the checkpoint.
I would have loved to swim there, the water was warm and the temps were mild. The hike in was steep, daunting and slick and we had to use vines to keep from falling.
This was our first checkpoint photo - us at the waterfall. We were either first or second on the road and, as I suspected, this was going to be an easy ride. The hike out was tough but no big deal. We then had to decide the best route to the next checkpoint. Kirk went down the road a little bit and saw that it got more muddy and so we decided to take shortcut that would avoid the mud but might be a "smaller road."
Again, this is what the organizers consider "a road" because it's listed as such on a map. I'm again recalculating our pace and while this is slower the other teams are surely struggling on the muddy roads while we're flying on this dry single and double track.
Until we weren't.
Now the small roads were getting muddy and while it was "good mud" with traction it was slower. We eventually ended up in a very tiny village and were lucky to find some soda's and snacks and a school. At the beginning of this Jenna had asked for our logos to make stickers and she presented us with hundreds of stickers at the start. "It's for the kids - they love them" she said.
That was an understatement of epic proportions. Wherever we went we were mobbed by kids wanting stickers. School stopped and the kids rushed from classrooms for the chance to see these power ranger dressed motorcyclists and to fight for a sticker.
Our "shortcut" was very slow but eventually we found pavement and it seemed like we were on track to finish our checkpoints by 5 or 6 until Kirk realized we'd missed a turn, a school and a checkpoint. We'd have to go back into the jungle an hour to find this village we'd missed.
This was the first time I had any sense of how big a deal this was to locals. School closed for the day and the entire village came to the checkpoint. We could not walk we were so surrounded by kids (and adults) who wanted selfies and photos. Kids as young as 4 or 5 had phones and asked for selfies with you. The next question was were you from. I did not expect "USA" to get the reaction that it did but everyone would go crazy. That woman in the blue thought I was a movie star. It was a trip.
We left and it took us hours to just back to where we'd realized we'd make a mistake. At this point we're seeing other teams and their bikes are clean. We're also now way down in the order. Our shortcut wasn't, we're way behind and in looking at the map there's almost no way we'll get to the final checkpoint. Does that mean we're disqualified? No, we just have to get day one's checkpoints on day two which means an even longer day.
I'm doing more recalculating in my head.
We've already ridden 200 miles and our mistake has put us way back and our only option is to push as hard as we can and get as far as we can before the cutoff. We had a plan to camp at this area overlooking the ocean and Rob and I were excited for the visuals from that - plus the relaxing, the hanging out.
At this point we heard a new plan from Nong, "Guys, new plan. Less photos, less video. More riding, less stopping" Go faster was not in the directive because there wasn't a way to go faster safer.
It started raining and the sun set.
Wait, we're going to ride until 10pm? Are you serious? We got up at 3:30am and it was now 7pm and I've had 6 hours of sleep in two days and I'm not feeling it. At all. What the actual ****?
This was the point that it changed for me. Where I realized I wasn't on a fun adventure ride. I wanted to quit. I was falling asleep on the bike and we were flying on wet roads with limited visibility and making questionable passes. It felt like I was the only one really struggling and while my fitness has improved dramatically over the last couple of years maybe my age was limiting me here. I was the oldest by 10 years and had no trouble keeping pace on a bike but now I was dying. I asked for a Redbull but there was nothing open and the gas stations just sold gas. Not the 24 hour junk food bonanzas that are the gas stations in the states.
In my mind I was questioning this whole thing. It wasn't a race, we get no prize for finishing first or 10th and while finishing was important it was starting to feel dangerous. Kirk hopped on his bike and came back 5 minutes later with a "Cobra" which he explained was a local Philippine energy drink. I have no idea what was in it or where he found it because everything was closed but I needed that. I drank it in one go, put on my helmet and Mel promised a hotel two hours away.
Now I was wide awake. The rain eventually stopped. We were no longer stopping for photos so I started shooting from the bike as we rode. Jenna expected me to have amazing photos but that objective seemed to be lost on the guys. They had done this event several times before but had not finished under the deadline. Ah, I see now, I'm part of a vendetta. A score settling.
We finally reached the hotel around 9:30 just before cutoff. At some point another bike caught us as we were flying through the night and at the hotel we discovered it was Stavro. He was a free agent but he also was part of our Google group so he saw use ahead on the map and raced to catch us.
He told us we'd made up a bunch of places and that no team finished day one's checkpoints. That felt good but also bad. We'd have to really make up time tomorrow to get back on track.
We showered while the staff woke up kitchen help to come make us dinner and at 10pm we got the checkpoints for the next day so we spent several hours planning the next days route. By the time we finished eating and planning it was close to 1am and we set alarms for 4am so we'd be able to get up, have breakfast pack the bikes and be ready to roll at 5am.
Another night of three hours of sleep. That's now three days on 9 hours of sleep. What the **** had I gotten myself into?
So that was day one.
Gregor
Last edited:
I think there is still a place for the story tellers of the world, not just the influencers. There are loads of woodworking influencers and social media accounts out there with more followers than someone like The Wood Whisperer, yet he makes a living not by focusing on more "advanced" woodworking not by chasing larger audiences.
There's a great book on ADHD called ADHD is Awesome that I need to get back to reading. The author also says how he hates the word deficit in the name as it brings up negative connotations. People with ADHD don't lack attention but lack the discipline to focus our attention.
There's a great book on ADHD called ADHD is Awesome that I need to get back to reading. The author also says how he hates the word deficit in the name as it brings up negative connotations. People with ADHD don't lack attention but lack the discipline to focus our attention.
hewey
Well-known member
Loving your story telling of the Phillipines adventure. I followed along on your insta stories, but this gives a much better picture of the event and what was involved.
On the ADHD front, I kind of reckon we all need to wade through and work out our strengths and weaknesses, and how to harness the strengths of our good bits and work out ways to manage or minimise our weaknesses, and work with what we've got. An ADHD diagnosis has the benefits of some of that homework already being done for you to help you on your way, and what relates to you.
On the ADHD front, I kind of reckon we all need to wade through and work out our strengths and weaknesses, and how to harness the strengths of our good bits and work out ways to manage or minimise our weaknesses, and work with what we've got. An ADHD diagnosis has the benefits of some of that homework already being done for you to help you on your way, and what relates to you.
OJKD
Active member
Thank you for being you Gregor. You are an inspiration.
A professor once told me that every business thinks they have a unique challenge, but in reality the major components are almost always the same. At it's core, it looks like your problem is making your potential customers understand that they are paying for a high quality, repeatable product. Every one of us knows that some guy can do what we do just as good. I could take a great photo by sheer dumb luck. I could manage a project and it could go perfectly, by luck. What you pay the best people for is giving them the task, and receive a great product, on time, within budget, every single time. Just like racing motorcycles. On point, every turn, every lap. That wins championships.
A professor once told me that every business thinks they have a unique challenge, but in reality the major components are almost always the same. At it's core, it looks like your problem is making your potential customers understand that they are paying for a high quality, repeatable product. Every one of us knows that some guy can do what we do just as good. I could take a great photo by sheer dumb luck. I could manage a project and it could go perfectly, by luck. What you pay the best people for is giving them the task, and receive a great product, on time, within budget, every single time. Just like racing motorcycles. On point, every turn, every lap. That wins championships.
Okay, back to the Philippines.
We woke up at 4am and our local guy had arranged for the hotel to bring someone in to make us breakfast. I had brought my coffee setup with me and was glad that I could at least count on good coffee each morning. We fueled up and started day two...
...in the rain. But really we weren't starting day two, we were finishing day one. Most of the morning was pavement but there was a section of road on our way to the coast that was dirt. This and rain that we encountered gave us another taste of mud and this time it was a bit more slippery.
Not horrible but Rob dropped the bike on a tight corner just before a narrow bridge. We knew that today was the day with the "off road" section but this wasn't it.
These sorts of bridges aren't difficult but they do get in your head. If you stopped midway you wouldn't really have the room to put a foot down and your boots would be muddy so you'd probably slip. Then the bike would hit the rail which would collapse and then you'd fall into the river. It's not deep but you could get the bike on top of you. And the bike would probably flood.
So you think about these things.
We hit the previous days check point and made our way to the coast for the overlook we thought, in some crazy fantasy land, that Rob and imagined having a relaxing camp next to.
It was certainly beautiful but not a place to camp.
For this trip one of the local sponsors got us helmets and this Caberg was the first ADV style flip helmet I've worn. The flip style is generally considered what "old guys" use and is a bit geeky and honestly I qualify for both so I didn't have any issues trying it out. I wanted to be able to shoot and talk with people without having to constantly remove the helmet.
The coast road was pretty and rough. You could be forgiven for thinking you're doing some "*********" riding but then you'd pass a family on the same road...
And realize that your "adventure" is another persons drive to the market. Perspective.
The road got smaller and smaller and at a certain point I couldn't tell if we were riding on a sidewalk or a road.
I think the answer was yes.
Because we started at the earliest time allowed it was still morning when we got our first "day two" check point so we were feeling like we were making up time. There was a good chance we'd finish day two on day two.
One of the issues that we (and all the teams) would run into was a lack of cell service. We got our group photo but we had to get it accepted before we could move on but there was no service. That meant asking in the village what house had internet and could we borrow the wifi? More local interaction.
There was a small store which there often wasn't in the small towns we went through and at this point Rob and I never missed a chance to get a cold coke. We wanted anything cold because the temps were in the 30's or 85-95F and very humid. We also didn't stop for food or rests. We'd get something for lunch but it was short. So calories and caffeine were valued.
That small road left the village and for about an hour we rode on what could only be described as a sidewalk through the jungle. It was about a meter or 3'-4' wide, concrete and had a decent drop off so you needed to be careful to not ride off it or hit a "carabao" or water buffalo.
At this point I'd given up thinking I could make photos or set up a shot so I'd try to ride ahead, stall the bike, get off and grab a shot before the group caught up. Here the road was submerged for really long stretches through these massive rice paddies and the danger was that when it got deep you couldn't see the bottom. Not a bid deal unless you rode off the edge of the concrete which was a 6-8" drop into a muddy shoulder that sloped away.
The other option for shooting was just riding one handed and using my left hand to shoot - something Scott and I figured out years ago on the Rev'It! Chasing Light trip. It's a trick but one that no one else has really mastered yet.
I'm realizing now, wading through the photos, how long this day was. It felt like three days, or maybe four. The early morning was one. The mid morning was this - beautiful sweeping paved roads and small towns.
After all those rice paddies we noticed rice. I wasn't sure at first what was going on but the shoulders of all the roads were where the rice was dried.
They farmers would walk through the rice to stir it up and help it dry.
At this point we knew we were coming to the last check point before the "off road" section. We wanted to be sure we had fuel.
And we knew it was going to be muddy from the dirt roads we'd been on so we took the time to lube the chains.
We got to the check point, another school, and we were really beat. At this point, with 9 hours of sleep in three days, any time we stopped I tried to take a nap. I never really fell asleep but I'd go into this half sleep where I could hear things around me but was definitely not awake. These power naps could get me another hour or two on the bike and I knew the jungle was coming and while it was only supposed to be around 10 miles I knew it would probably take a few hours.
This is a long post so we'll break day 2 into two. Which is appropriate.
Gregor
We woke up at 4am and our local guy had arranged for the hotel to bring someone in to make us breakfast. I had brought my coffee setup with me and was glad that I could at least count on good coffee each morning. We fueled up and started day two...
...in the rain. But really we weren't starting day two, we were finishing day one. Most of the morning was pavement but there was a section of road on our way to the coast that was dirt. This and rain that we encountered gave us another taste of mud and this time it was a bit more slippery.
Not horrible but Rob dropped the bike on a tight corner just before a narrow bridge. We knew that today was the day with the "off road" section but this wasn't it.
These sorts of bridges aren't difficult but they do get in your head. If you stopped midway you wouldn't really have the room to put a foot down and your boots would be muddy so you'd probably slip. Then the bike would hit the rail which would collapse and then you'd fall into the river. It's not deep but you could get the bike on top of you. And the bike would probably flood.
So you think about these things.
We hit the previous days check point and made our way to the coast for the overlook we thought, in some crazy fantasy land, that Rob and imagined having a relaxing camp next to.
It was certainly beautiful but not a place to camp.
For this trip one of the local sponsors got us helmets and this Caberg was the first ADV style flip helmet I've worn. The flip style is generally considered what "old guys" use and is a bit geeky and honestly I qualify for both so I didn't have any issues trying it out. I wanted to be able to shoot and talk with people without having to constantly remove the helmet.
The coast road was pretty and rough. You could be forgiven for thinking you're doing some "*********" riding but then you'd pass a family on the same road...
And realize that your "adventure" is another persons drive to the market. Perspective.
The road got smaller and smaller and at a certain point I couldn't tell if we were riding on a sidewalk or a road.
I think the answer was yes.
Because we started at the earliest time allowed it was still morning when we got our first "day two" check point so we were feeling like we were making up time. There was a good chance we'd finish day two on day two.
One of the issues that we (and all the teams) would run into was a lack of cell service. We got our group photo but we had to get it accepted before we could move on but there was no service. That meant asking in the village what house had internet and could we borrow the wifi? More local interaction.
There was a small store which there often wasn't in the small towns we went through and at this point Rob and I never missed a chance to get a cold coke. We wanted anything cold because the temps were in the 30's or 85-95F and very humid. We also didn't stop for food or rests. We'd get something for lunch but it was short. So calories and caffeine were valued.
That small road left the village and for about an hour we rode on what could only be described as a sidewalk through the jungle. It was about a meter or 3'-4' wide, concrete and had a decent drop off so you needed to be careful to not ride off it or hit a "carabao" or water buffalo.
At this point I'd given up thinking I could make photos or set up a shot so I'd try to ride ahead, stall the bike, get off and grab a shot before the group caught up. Here the road was submerged for really long stretches through these massive rice paddies and the danger was that when it got deep you couldn't see the bottom. Not a bid deal unless you rode off the edge of the concrete which was a 6-8" drop into a muddy shoulder that sloped away.
The other option for shooting was just riding one handed and using my left hand to shoot - something Scott and I figured out years ago on the Rev'It! Chasing Light trip. It's a trick but one that no one else has really mastered yet.
I'm realizing now, wading through the photos, how long this day was. It felt like three days, or maybe four. The early morning was one. The mid morning was this - beautiful sweeping paved roads and small towns.
After all those rice paddies we noticed rice. I wasn't sure at first what was going on but the shoulders of all the roads were where the rice was dried.
They farmers would walk through the rice to stir it up and help it dry.
At this point we knew we were coming to the last check point before the "off road" section. We wanted to be sure we had fuel.
And we knew it was going to be muddy from the dirt roads we'd been on so we took the time to lube the chains.
We got to the check point, another school, and we were really beat. At this point, with 9 hours of sleep in three days, any time we stopped I tried to take a nap. I never really fell asleep but I'd go into this half sleep where I could hear things around me but was definitely not awake. These power naps could get me another hour or two on the bike and I knew the jungle was coming and while it was only supposed to be around 10 miles I knew it would probably take a few hours.
This is a long post so we'll break day 2 into two. Which is appropriate.
Gregor
Last edited:
kppolich
Well-known member
Man, this thread is so good Gregor. Your photos are the only photos on the internet that make me feel something. It feels like I'm there or learning something truly amazing every time I read through one of your posts. As always, thank you for sharing and welcome back!
kaymccampbell
Well-known member
It looks just like my PI of 50 years ago. Lovely place, nice people. Your roads are so much better than mine.
Jayman17
Well-known member
Really enjoying your latest posts of your trip. Awesome photography! Always appreciated. 
So we've gotten to the checkpoint at the school and the next one is in the off road section. Considering the condition of the "on road" sections I'm a little concerned but I'm a solid off road rider, I've done hard things on big bikes and I've ridden mud. It's only supposed to be 10km for the section - just over 6 miles and we've pushed all day to get ahead of other teams so the trails aren't torn up too bad. How bad can it be? An hour? Two? Maybe if it's bad 3?
We turned off the road and onto single track. It was narrow and unskilled riders in front were stalled but there wasn't room to get around until we went to the side. Then it opened up and there were multiple tracks - all were insanely muddy and extremely slippery. We dropped bikes as the mud was so soft and slick it created an instant rut from the first bike. Deep enough that it was hard to steer out of and when you tried the bike would skate and fall.
I tried go around into grass but it was just as wet. Several times we followed a track only for it to end and force us to back track. It seemed that there was only one actual route but it took a while to realize that.
The thing about the mud was there wasn't a bottom. We were on big, heavy bikes and it doesn't take much imagination to know that the ruts just got deeper and deeper. Our bikes packed on mud in every spot.
Rob and I were not used to the heat. It was around 95-98F (36-38C) and the humidity was in the 90-95% range so we were dying. Every time we had to lift the bike it was exhausting. Oh, and no sleep remember.
One hour in and we'd gone just over a 1/2 mile.
Since there was only one track and over 400 bikes it quickly became grid lock. Or palmtree lock. That shot above we just sat there for probably close to an hour without moving. And here's some perspective for you...
We were there long enough to fly the drone and the idea was to use it to see if we could find a way out. It was too dense.
Finally the bikes moved a little and we came to this traffic jam. Maybe 50-80 bikes were just jammed together at the base of this big hill. There were 3-4 different tracks and each one had a bikes burried up to the footpads. A team of BMW GS1300's (an enormous bike) had gotten in ahead of a lot of teams and their bikes were completely wedged.
It was completely surreal. We were almost all out of water. We'd gone less than a mile in 3 hours and the only sounds were motors being ruthlessly pinned on the limiter echoing through the jungle. Some were very distant, some just ahead on the hill. It made no difference.
I think I have video but no photos of our climb. Kirk brought a tow strap. I found dead palm fronds and smashed coconut shells and piled them into our chosen rut. The rider would pin the throttle and two of us would pull and two would push.
This was at the top of the hill. Our bikes easily weighed another 100lbs with the mud.
Another surreal aspect was that people lived back in this jungle. There was a village of a church and some thatched huts and the locals all came out to watch us.
The kids would show us the right track walking ahead in bare feet. At this point, while you can't tell, we're slowly climbing on a ridge. If you turned right or left you'd end up on a hill as steep as stairs. Oh, it's also starting to get dark.
You can tell by the slick marks that there's nothing you can do here. Brakes, no brakes, it doesn't matter. You could not ride it so you had to pick a rut, put your feet out as skates and let the locals push back on the bike to slow you. The guy on the right was one of hundreds that gave up around that first hill and decided to walk the mile to the checkpoint.
We eventually made it to the checkpoint which was a crazy party. It was almost 7pm and we'd gone 1.68 miles in almost 5 hours and there were maybe 80-100 people and only about 5-10 bikes. More people kept walking in, exhausted, shirts tied around their waists soaked in sweat. It was no cooler at night.
At the top of the hill there was cell service and we learned that only two teams had made it past this checkpoint and only because they were good riders on lighter bikes and they were first through. The organizers eliminated the final checkpoint but the cutoff time was still 10pm and it was almost 8pm. The track out was much steeper, much narrower and much harder. Turning around wasn't an option but going down would be nearly impossible.
Everyone was out of water and the house had a bucket of cloudy water that was offered. Rob and I weren't sure if it was going to be safe for our less rugged stomachs but we were also dying of thirst so we sat and drank. Hours passed and there seemed to be a lot of talking in hushed tones - a plan was being hatched.
At this point Coach Mel pulled the most baller move of the whole rally: he bought the village.
He found the elders and negotiated a price to get the help of every male, kids and adults, to essentially carry our team out of the jungle. Our team and one other team but our team first. This was key.
Rope was found, the strongest or at least heaviest guys tied off the bikes and then wrapped the rope around a tree and belayed the bikes as two younger kids would stabilize the bike on each side and hold it up.
As soon as one rider was being lowered the next was tied off.
This next section was narrow, deeply rutted, extremely steep and twisty. We each had two kids that stayed with us to stabilize the bike and try to hold us. It took another couple of hours to finally get down to a path next to a rice paddle and finally a farm road to a paved road. We finally got down at 9:15pm
9 hours to go 3km or a little less than 2 miles. Brutal.
We had almost enough time to get to a town before the 10pm cut off. Most of the hotels we passed were already filled with those that had given up earlier and at exactly 10pm we found a place.
We were the third and last team out of the jungle that night. Many walked out and abandoned their bikes, many spent the night there and for all I know there may be some that decided that it would be easier to just stay and live out their lives in that village on a hill.
At the hotel we sat on the ground and ate fried chicken and beers. I took a shower and passed out.
I think if this was in the states there would have been a lot of anger and threats but amazingly I never heard a complaint. There was laughter and joking and a general sense of humor about the whole disaster. And it was a disaster. The organizers admitted as much - it was a huge mistake and way too hard. Everyone said it was the hardest event ever. It was certainly the hardest day I'd ever spent on a bike.
And we still had one more day.
Gregor
We turned off the road and onto single track. It was narrow and unskilled riders in front were stalled but there wasn't room to get around until we went to the side. Then it opened up and there were multiple tracks - all were insanely muddy and extremely slippery. We dropped bikes as the mud was so soft and slick it created an instant rut from the first bike. Deep enough that it was hard to steer out of and when you tried the bike would skate and fall.
I tried go around into grass but it was just as wet. Several times we followed a track only for it to end and force us to back track. It seemed that there was only one actual route but it took a while to realize that.
The thing about the mud was there wasn't a bottom. We were on big, heavy bikes and it doesn't take much imagination to know that the ruts just got deeper and deeper. Our bikes packed on mud in every spot.
Rob and I were not used to the heat. It was around 95-98F (36-38C) and the humidity was in the 90-95% range so we were dying. Every time we had to lift the bike it was exhausting. Oh, and no sleep remember.
One hour in and we'd gone just over a 1/2 mile.
Since there was only one track and over 400 bikes it quickly became grid lock. Or palmtree lock. That shot above we just sat there for probably close to an hour without moving. And here's some perspective for you...
We were there long enough to fly the drone and the idea was to use it to see if we could find a way out. It was too dense.
Finally the bikes moved a little and we came to this traffic jam. Maybe 50-80 bikes were just jammed together at the base of this big hill. There were 3-4 different tracks and each one had a bikes burried up to the footpads. A team of BMW GS1300's (an enormous bike) had gotten in ahead of a lot of teams and their bikes were completely wedged.
It was completely surreal. We were almost all out of water. We'd gone less than a mile in 3 hours and the only sounds were motors being ruthlessly pinned on the limiter echoing through the jungle. Some were very distant, some just ahead on the hill. It made no difference.
I think I have video but no photos of our climb. Kirk brought a tow strap. I found dead palm fronds and smashed coconut shells and piled them into our chosen rut. The rider would pin the throttle and two of us would pull and two would push.
This was at the top of the hill. Our bikes easily weighed another 100lbs with the mud.
Another surreal aspect was that people lived back in this jungle. There was a village of a church and some thatched huts and the locals all came out to watch us.
The kids would show us the right track walking ahead in bare feet. At this point, while you can't tell, we're slowly climbing on a ridge. If you turned right or left you'd end up on a hill as steep as stairs. Oh, it's also starting to get dark.
You can tell by the slick marks that there's nothing you can do here. Brakes, no brakes, it doesn't matter. You could not ride it so you had to pick a rut, put your feet out as skates and let the locals push back on the bike to slow you. The guy on the right was one of hundreds that gave up around that first hill and decided to walk the mile to the checkpoint.
We eventually made it to the checkpoint which was a crazy party. It was almost 7pm and we'd gone 1.68 miles in almost 5 hours and there were maybe 80-100 people and only about 5-10 bikes. More people kept walking in, exhausted, shirts tied around their waists soaked in sweat. It was no cooler at night.
At the top of the hill there was cell service and we learned that only two teams had made it past this checkpoint and only because they were good riders on lighter bikes and they were first through. The organizers eliminated the final checkpoint but the cutoff time was still 10pm and it was almost 8pm. The track out was much steeper, much narrower and much harder. Turning around wasn't an option but going down would be nearly impossible.
Everyone was out of water and the house had a bucket of cloudy water that was offered. Rob and I weren't sure if it was going to be safe for our less rugged stomachs but we were also dying of thirst so we sat and drank. Hours passed and there seemed to be a lot of talking in hushed tones - a plan was being hatched.
At this point Coach Mel pulled the most baller move of the whole rally: he bought the village.
He found the elders and negotiated a price to get the help of every male, kids and adults, to essentially carry our team out of the jungle. Our team and one other team but our team first. This was key.
Rope was found, the strongest or at least heaviest guys tied off the bikes and then wrapped the rope around a tree and belayed the bikes as two younger kids would stabilize the bike on each side and hold it up.
As soon as one rider was being lowered the next was tied off.
This next section was narrow, deeply rutted, extremely steep and twisty. We each had two kids that stayed with us to stabilize the bike and try to hold us. It took another couple of hours to finally get down to a path next to a rice paddle and finally a farm road to a paved road. We finally got down at 9:15pm
9 hours to go 3km or a little less than 2 miles. Brutal.
We had almost enough time to get to a town before the 10pm cut off. Most of the hotels we passed were already filled with those that had given up earlier and at exactly 10pm we found a place.
We were the third and last team out of the jungle that night. Many walked out and abandoned their bikes, many spent the night there and for all I know there may be some that decided that it would be easier to just stay and live out their lives in that village on a hill.
At the hotel we sat on the ground and ate fried chicken and beers. I took a shower and passed out.
I think if this was in the states there would have been a lot of anger and threats but amazingly I never heard a complaint. There was laughter and joking and a general sense of humor about the whole disaster. And it was a disaster. The organizers admitted as much - it was a huge mistake and way too hard. Everyone said it was the hardest event ever. It was certainly the hardest day I'd ever spent on a bike.
And we still had one more day.
Gregor
Last edited:
E12-535iTurbo
Well-known member
Insane! (Enjoyable for us though).
Fireskull
New member
Amazing story telling as always Gregor, what an experience.
Jeff Ivers
Well-known member
Uhh, you did this for fun?
bunks-tj
Well-known member
its level 2 fun. fun to talk about later....
NOTE: I realized that while I've not started to edit my video I do have clips and they do a much better job than just my photos. So go back up to that last post and there's now three videos that will give you a better understanding of that day (night).
Also, I dug through drone footage and pulled some screen captures that help give perspective. I've edited the previous posts to include those so that you have better, prettier and much higher perspective.
Yeah, I was frustrated with the lack of sleep and the relentless pace. But you're right, the heat in that moment was suffocating. It made the whole thing so much harder and it was already hard. I did not know at the time that our three local guys had not finished the event the year before coming in just after midnight. They had a vendetta.
No surprise we were up at 4am again. There was no coffee so I made it for the team and at 5am we were off.
Mud from the night before after going down the road a bit.
As someone who spent many years racing, often at a higher level, I looked down on people who "raced" dual sport events. They weren't actually racing they were cosplaying. They are the people that run through a crowd, touch a wall and say "I win!" and everyone else is wondering, "why are you running?"
Racing is agreeing on the rules, then cheating as much as possible within those rules, and then putting it on the line in a formal setting. It's not racing against people who are just out to have a nice ride in the woods. But at the same time if enough of those people agree, silently and implicitly, that yes we know this is not a race but we're going to race anyway, then it is in fact a race. There will be no prize only the quiet knowledge that you beat so and so who was also racing.
That's the team I was on. And I spent a lot of time in my helmet being frustrated that my "job" of photographing the event was taking the back seat to an imaginary race with no prize.
The other part of me is the racer who can't stand to see someone in front of me. I will admit that every time we caught a team on the road and Nong would radio back to us, "Should we pass or hold these guys" I was always the first to answer, "**** yes we pass them!" so the dilemma was also in me. I love to come up behind someone who's riding at their limit, who is going fast, and to pass them on the outside and drop a casual wave and then drop the hammer and disappear.
I was very lucky that I had a team of extremely talented riders who all loved the game. We were never passed once in three days unless is was a mistake, a wrong turn, we were flying the drone or we were stopped for gas. I had become that person.
That's the Mayon Volcano.
We had several check points around it and on it including an amazing waterfall that I never bothered to even take a photo of. But I do have a video clip:
Our last checkpoint for the last day was actually way up the volcano. It started as a rocky road, then became a rocky double track and then a muddy single track. Shell shocked from the night before most riders parked at the bottom and just hiked. It was a few miles of steep climbing.
Only about 10 or so bikes made it this far and Nong, Kirk and I were part of that. This guy was a volunteer and had a thermos of coconut water he was giving out to those that got that far. We'd intended to stop for water but didn't so again we were mostly out.
Above that point there were a few hardy souls that pressed on but most gave up, dropped their bikes (it was too steep and soft for kickstands) and then hiked.
And hiked and hiked. Shirts came off and heart rates maxed out. I was lucky in that for the last two years I've been really focusing on my fitness and I went to this event at 164lbs (down from 184 during the peak of covid!) and in great shape. I was the least affected on the hikes. I ended this event at 160lbs.
Many clutches were killed on this event and several on this climb.
The end of the event was at a resort on the coast but it was a long slog on pavement and it rained off and on the whole way. With the final checkpoint ticked off we just motored hoping to get there before dark.
I shot a portion of the drone and Nong shot the rest. As the "official still photographer" I wanted him to capture stills but most of the time we both forgot to. I just found the footage and went through and just screen captured some frames. I'll go back and add them to the previous posts. I love the drone - it's such an amazing establishing device.
Just as the sun set we rolled in and crossed the line. I think we ended up 17th overall (but it's not a race) and we were the first "creative" team which to me sounds like a made up thing but Jenna was very proud of us and the guys were thrilled as it was their best finish ever with 6 hours to spare before the cutoff. I'm not sure but I believe that over half the teams did not make it before midnight.
After that we sat around and drank beers by headlight and finally headed off to the villa that was our last night.
I had to get back to catch my flight and I had zero interest in riding the 12 hours back to Manila, getting in at midnight and getting up at 6am for my flight home so Jenna found a team that could transport my bike and I got dropped off at the airport for a quick flight back.
I've been wanting to test my fitness and so some harder events but I didn't expect this to be that. I thought I was going on a vacation and I suppose it was but it was the hardest vacation I've ever taken. By a long shot.
Gregor
Also, I dug through drone footage and pulled some screen captures that help give perspective. I've edited the previous posts to include those so that you have better, prettier and much higher perspective.
Yeah, I was frustrated with the lack of sleep and the relentless pace. But you're right, the heat in that moment was suffocating. It made the whole thing so much harder and it was already hard. I did not know at the time that our three local guys had not finished the event the year before coming in just after midnight. They had a vendetta.
No surprise we were up at 4am again. There was no coffee so I made it for the team and at 5am we were off.
Mud from the night before after going down the road a bit.
As someone who spent many years racing, often at a higher level, I looked down on people who "raced" dual sport events. They weren't actually racing they were cosplaying. They are the people that run through a crowd, touch a wall and say "I win!" and everyone else is wondering, "why are you running?"
Racing is agreeing on the rules, then cheating as much as possible within those rules, and then putting it on the line in a formal setting. It's not racing against people who are just out to have a nice ride in the woods. But at the same time if enough of those people agree, silently and implicitly, that yes we know this is not a race but we're going to race anyway, then it is in fact a race. There will be no prize only the quiet knowledge that you beat so and so who was also racing.
That's the team I was on. And I spent a lot of time in my helmet being frustrated that my "job" of photographing the event was taking the back seat to an imaginary race with no prize.
The other part of me is the racer who can't stand to see someone in front of me. I will admit that every time we caught a team on the road and Nong would radio back to us, "Should we pass or hold these guys" I was always the first to answer, "**** yes we pass them!" so the dilemma was also in me. I love to come up behind someone who's riding at their limit, who is going fast, and to pass them on the outside and drop a casual wave and then drop the hammer and disappear.
I was very lucky that I had a team of extremely talented riders who all loved the game. We were never passed once in three days unless is was a mistake, a wrong turn, we were flying the drone or we were stopped for gas. I had become that person.
That's the Mayon Volcano.
We had several check points around it and on it including an amazing waterfall that I never bothered to even take a photo of. But I do have a video clip:
Our last checkpoint for the last day was actually way up the volcano. It started as a rocky road, then became a rocky double track and then a muddy single track. Shell shocked from the night before most riders parked at the bottom and just hiked. It was a few miles of steep climbing.
Only about 10 or so bikes made it this far and Nong, Kirk and I were part of that. This guy was a volunteer and had a thermos of coconut water he was giving out to those that got that far. We'd intended to stop for water but didn't so again we were mostly out.
Above that point there were a few hardy souls that pressed on but most gave up, dropped their bikes (it was too steep and soft for kickstands) and then hiked.
And hiked and hiked. Shirts came off and heart rates maxed out. I was lucky in that for the last two years I've been really focusing on my fitness and I went to this event at 164lbs (down from 184 during the peak of covid!) and in great shape. I was the least affected on the hikes. I ended this event at 160lbs.
Many clutches were killed on this event and several on this climb.
The end of the event was at a resort on the coast but it was a long slog on pavement and it rained off and on the whole way. With the final checkpoint ticked off we just motored hoping to get there before dark.
I shot a portion of the drone and Nong shot the rest. As the "official still photographer" I wanted him to capture stills but most of the time we both forgot to. I just found the footage and went through and just screen captured some frames. I'll go back and add them to the previous posts. I love the drone - it's such an amazing establishing device.
Just as the sun set we rolled in and crossed the line. I think we ended up 17th overall (but it's not a race) and we were the first "creative" team which to me sounds like a made up thing but Jenna was very proud of us and the guys were thrilled as it was their best finish ever with 6 hours to spare before the cutoff. I'm not sure but I believe that over half the teams did not make it before midnight.
After that we sat around and drank beers by headlight and finally headed off to the villa that was our last night.
I had to get back to catch my flight and I had zero interest in riding the 12 hours back to Manila, getting in at midnight and getting up at 6am for my flight home so Jenna found a team that could transport my bike and I got dropped off at the airport for a quick flight back.
I've been wanting to test my fitness and so some harder events but I didn't expect this to be that. I thought I was going on a vacation and I suppose it was but it was the hardest vacation I've ever taken. By a long shot.
Gregor
Last edited:
Finallygotit
ALLIANCE MEMBER
Gregor.............just................WOW!
tweidman
Well-known member
Thanks for sharing your journey. Excellent write up and pictures.
What an amazingly exhausting event.
What an amazingly exhausting event.