Sunday, March 4, 2012

Sprints...

It's become no secret that I've been getting into motorsports shooting a lot more. Hell, I'm the guy who flies across the country, to Daytona, to shoot 3,000 photos that nobody's paying me for. It's fun, though, so what the Hell?

If it's one thing southern California doesn't have enough of, it's race tracks. There's Fontana but, beyond that, it's pretty slim pickin's. So, one day, I decided to start surfing Google in search of somewhere; anywhere, in southern California to shoot some motorsports. What I found is, in fact, what I suspected: Slim pickin's.

What I did find, however, was the Perris Auto Speedway. "PAS" is a half-mile clay track in, as you might guess, Perris, California. I'd never shot "short track" before, so I was looking forward to it. I contacted the track and made arrangements for pit access and a credential to shoot. Psyched to have gotten everything set up, I made the hour and fifteen minute drive north to Perris.

Perris isn't the "middle of nowhere" but, if you stand in the Holiday Inn parking lot on 4th in Perris, you can see it from there. I got settled into my hotel (the aforementioned Holiday Inn), and made my way over to the track.

My first thought when I pulled into the parking lot is that short-track sprint car racing is damn popular in Perris, California. The lot was filling quickly and, in fact, was full not long after I pulled in. The line of people for the ticket window, which opened at 5:00pm, was long. My arrangement with the gentleman from the track I'd been speaking to was that I would pay my admission ($25.00), and he would take care of me getting into the infield. I got my ticket and went inside, hoping to find someone who could direct me to either the "Cleared List" or the guy who said he would put me on the "Cleared List".

Sadly, I found neither.

This happens sometimes; best laid plans and all that. The bottom line, though, is that he didn't come through. I was there, though, and I had already checked into my hotel. I could go back to the hotel, or could hang out (as I'd already bought my ticket) and see what kind of shots I could get. I opted for the latter. I was more than a bit pissed off, primarily because I'd told him that I wanted to have everything set up before I made the drive. C'est la vie; no way to change it.

I was, much to my surprise, able to find some holes in the fence around turns one and two. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than not shooting at all.

One of the things I was unaware of, since I've only shot on paved tracks, is that sprint cars kick up clay and dirt and rocks when the go around those turns, and those pieces of clay and dirt and rocks come off those tires at a rather high rate of speed.

Right towards the photographer shooting through the fence.

Getting hit once was enough to tel me I had to "shoot, duck and cover". The guys driving the cars really don't care if a rock flies up and breaks a photographer's lens. Once I got the knack of it, things went pretty well:










If there was one part of the whole thing which gave me a small amount of joy (okay, in addition to getting a car flipping and completely in mid-air) was his response to the samples I sent him. In his reply to me, he said he was "dying", as he never gets photos from the angles I shot from.

That's right, pal, and you probably never will...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The Final Hours...

The final hours in Seattle were fun, low voltage and relaxing. Jess and I have learned not to plan minute by minute and having everything la...