First Impressions

Wes Williams

I peered left, then right, checking my surroundings as I lowered my goggles. For this race, I’d typically be doing this to protect my eyes from the howling Las Vegas winds—a time-honored tradition for all attendees—but in this particular instance I was attempting to add one extra layer of concealment to my disguise. Surely there was no chance the promoters would recognize the highly malnourished 150-pound film kid wearing the Vurbmoto shirt, right? 

I took a deep breath and emerged from behind the campers into no man’s land to spot my friends running up on the fence that separated the parking lot from the rest of Las Vegas Motor Speedway. 

“Hurry, Hurry! Jump it! Jump it!” I yelled as they hurriedly scaled the barrier. This thing hadn’t passed inspection a day in its life, so this was either going to result in broken arms or two free passes into the event. With my heart rate racing, they landed on their feet and an excited greeting followed.