The light of day three poked its way through the drawn curtains in my room, meaning that morning crit could not be far off. Shaking off an interesting night in the club scene of Monterey, the gang got a dose of scrambled eggs and hash browns from the Denny’s down the street and headed back to the ‘executive conference room’ for morning crit.
After a pep talk from the profs, we split off into a group of five. Myself and another photographer, two writers, and another whose assignment for the day was to document the shenaniga- I mean, stories that the rest of us got into. We had something picked out already: a wild animal park near Salinas. After the requisite 4 or 5 U-turns, we happened upon it. The owner of the park appeared in a welcome video that we were shown, this gent appeared to be a cross between Fabio and the karate guy from Napoleon Dynamite, complete with a real live lion to pet! Much eye-rolling ensued, and we made our way out to the park, half expecting to see the owner riding by on the back of a proud lion, his hair blowing in the wind.
I refrained from getting out my camera, as I would be acting as a writer on this one. Kate, my photo counterpart, made with the clicky-clicky as I gathered notes from the irritated tour guide. After she had to tell us FOR THE LAST TIME to not stray from the group, the compound manager (what is this, Jurassic Park?) rescued us. She’s worked at the park for over 20 years, and talked about the animals as if they were her children. We dutifully recorded the stories she told us and bade farewell to the park. The sun beat down on us as we retreated to the car and plotted another adventure.
The racing Mecca known as Laguna Seca was up the road a bit, so we decided to pay it a visit. After entering the park that Seca is included in, two of us left our car and driver for a roadside trail which I suspected led somewhere. Sure enough, at the top of the hill, the sight of one of motorsports’ most storied turns greeted me: the Corkscrew. As if on cue, a bright green Lamborghini ran the turn, followed closely by a pair if 911s. I paused a moment to pick my jaw up off the ground, and went to go find a place to shoot from. There are two fences at the top of the Corkscrew, and there was a man with a very long lens going through the nearest fence. We asked if perhaps we could go up to the track fence to shoot cars coming into the turn, but no, of course we mere mortals can’t shoot inside the outer fence. But our new photographer friend kindly offered us a lift into the paddock. Whee!
Oh, I’d never dream of going in there…
The sound of everything from finely tuned Italian V10s to 600cc motorbike engines filled the air. It was employee appreciation day for Mazda, the title sponsors of the track, and vehicles with both 2 and 4 wheels were welcome. We found ourselves a gent who was racing his Porsche 914. He had a trick up his sleeve, namely a 911 turbo engine shoehorned into a car that weighs a lot less than grandma’s station wagon. We developed a story on him, got some shots, and basked in the glory of the track that you’ve probably driven on in Gran Turismo.
The black sheep of Porsches has teeth, apparently.
The final night consisted of the editing orgy we had come to know and love, and an opportunity to get some portrait practice in on the beach with Hayley and Bill, another photographer. After playing reflector bitch for a while, it was my turn to shoot. The sun was getting pretty low on the horizon, but I snuck in a few frames.
Not a bad way to end four days in Monterey.
Dinner came in the form of a brilliant Chinese place down the road, and another sake-infused run back to crit, a fitting end to the awesomeness that was Monterey. Tomorrow morning, the bulk of the class would depart back for Denver, but I would head up to San Francisco for the next leg of my journey. Don’t touch that dial!
