| Canyon Racing at its Extreme | | | | focusing my vision on the start of turn one. |
| The adrenaline is picking up as I enter my playground | | | | The Porsche racing in to the turn at 50 MPH. I'm still |
| of Canyon Racing. I am driving at Larch Mountain | | | | thinking I can go faster toward the second turn. The |
| Highway in green old western Oregon. A twisty | | | | adrenaline is so high, I'm not so sure about the speed |
| highway surrounded by a gigantic pine tree rainforest. | | | | anymore. But I still keep the gas pedal super glued to |
| The trees are so high; the sun does not make it to the | | | | the floor, and I'm not letting go. A quick twist of the |
| road half the time. The fun begins after I pass the last | | | | wheels to the left for turn number two, the Porsche |
| few country houses. After that I rarely see a car. Like | | | | stiff like a bench, barely leans on one side. As I reach |
| a deserted road. The speed picks up as my red 80's | | | | the apex of turn two, I feel a light drift on the back |
| Porsche accelerates. I feel my heart starting to beat | | | | wheels, a quick moment where I feel like I am floating |
| harder as I try to remain calm pushing the gas pedal. I | | | | on air. The RPM of the engine is almost maxed out at |
| reposition myself in the seat relaxing. As I hear the old | | | | 6500 screaming, two more seconds and turn number |
| Porsche engine revving through the RPM, I can't help it | | | | three begins, I realize I am going way too fast for this |
| but be nervous, because I don't know what to expect | | | | one. |
| next. The first few turns I take it easy while keeping | | | | And this is where I make my mistake. |
| the transmission in third gear with my sweaty palm on | | | | Completely let go of the gas pedal, the back drive |
| the warm vibrating shift knob. I remember some of the | | | | wheels almost lock as if I pulled the e-brakes. |
| turns that lie ahead. | | | | Something every professional driver knows not to do. |
| I enter a smooth right, my foot lightly shaking as I hold | | | | The whole world revolves around me as my Porsche |
| the gas pedal halfway. With all the trees, I could not | | | | is sent in to a 180 spin. I feel like I am in a roller coaster |
| see the other side of the turn. There are so many of | | | | loosing my sense of direction, not knowing where I am |
| them, it's like a tall and dark castle wall. I finish the turn | | | | flying. It happens so fast, all I can see outside the car is |
| into a short straight away. And there it is, the | | | | a big blur similar to a bad photo shot of a moving |
| dangerously fun S-curve. I could see it a few car | | | | photo-camera. |
| lengths away. It's a quick right, then left, then back to | | | | The feeling of helplessness is terrifying, but it's too late, |
| the right again. The best thing about it, there is no wall | | | | there is nothing I can do but just wait. Wait for only a |
| of trees blocking my view of all three corners. | | | | couple seconds that feel like eternity. The spin is over, |
| Because of that, I realize I can drive faster through this | | | | but the car slides backwards and comes to a stop. I |
| one. A quick decision to slam the gas, gives me the | | | | don't move for three seconds, frozen like ice, my heart |
| tingles already. I grab the shifter, down gear into | | | | pounding like a boom-box in a low-rider truck. |
| second. The adrenaline kicks up a thousand notches | | | | Now all I can see is white tire smoke ahead of me |
| with tingles running through my body like ants. I punch | | | | filling the forest like a thick fog. Some smoke came |
| the gas pedal with my right foot to the floor, and I feel | | | | through the gaps in the doors smelling like burned |
| like I sweated a bucket already. The exhaust screams | | | | rubber. I am excited with relief that I am not hurt, and |
| as I am pushed back into the seats black slippery | | | | the car is still on the road, not in a tree. And what a |
| leather. | | | | relief it is, almost like seeing death, and then being alive |
| The German machine is trying to out accelerate my | | | | again. Feeling secure after the action, I realize I want to |
| body, like being inside an airplane when it is taking off | | | | live so I casually drive home relaxing with joy. Being in |
| the runway. The stiff suspension vibrates the steering | | | | a few car wrecks, and getting in trouble with the law, I |
| wheel even over the smallest bumps, holding it feels | | | | learned this kind of excitement is very expensive and |
| like shooting an AK-47 machine gun. For a short | | | | not worth the life threatening risk. |
| moment, the sun glares on the windshield peaking | | | | Still, Canyon Racing continues to grow in popularity |
| through some trees like a bright flashlight directly in | | | | across the world. |
| your eyes at night. I try to peak through the glare, | | | | |