She's my neighbor across the street now and this morning I was trying to describe her to my friend Paula out in California. It went sorta like this: She was one of my photography students. When she graduated, she worked on campus taking pictures for a while. Then one day she decided that she wanted to be a race car driver. She sold everything she had and bought a car. I mean you would just love her Paula. She's taller than average and a tough gal. Not in a bad way - she could be Russian. When she comes to the house to drink, she's the last one standing. So she gets along on a shoe string budget, borrowing parts, squeaking along. This year she went to race at the Pike's Peak International Hill Climb and everything that could go wrong did go wrong. At the last minute the car broke and they had to rebuild the engine. Then they didn't have the entry money. She said it was the closest she ever came to quitting - ever. But somehow they raised the money to enter, paid their late fees and raced. Then while running the mountain, she looses a gear in her transmission. She finished somehow being the pilot of her craft, and when it was all said and done, she had won. Yah - she one the race. Holy crap!
And so today they had a meet and greet at the race track and I went out for a bit to lend my support. It's a mighty quick car and it drifts like Paul Walker was driving. My picture here is from the Harris Hill Racetrack in San Marcos.