They had set the record for their class in 2012 at 169 mph. Over the next year of socializing and dart throwing at our local watering hole, my new German friend discovered that I was a photographer, and invited me to photograph their next assault on the record. It wasn’t until weeks later, when he showed up with a German magazine article with pictures of him as part of the team, that we actually believed his story. Being in a drinking establishment, my friends and I were both impressed and doubtful of the newcomer’s tall tale. My opponent casually mentioned that before coming to Calgary, he was part of a German drag-racing team that had captured a world record at the Bonneville Salt Flats. Except for the beer, it was a little slice of heaven, and it caused me to reflect on just how I’d gotten there.Ī year earlier, I was getting beat at darts by a newcomer to my favourite pub. It was the third week in August and I was sitting poolside at a cheap hotel in Utah, surrounded by Germans talking motorcycling while they forced me to drink copious quantities of Coors.
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