There's a saying, originally by André Gide, that "One doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight, for a very long time, of the shore."
Every December, from 2012 through 2017, the 25 Hours of Thunderhill was a mainstay of my photographic schedule. It was always a huge challenge, as well as a huge opportunity.
The challenge was to see the race in a different way, from a new perspective, every single year. But the opportunity was a chance to witness facets of the race that are often hidden from view, and to use them to help people understand why that race was — is — so special and so unique.
In fact, when I made my first book, "Behind the 25," my approach was to gradually peel back the layers of the 2016 race, starting with the pomp and circumstance of the event, and ending with tense moments inside the control tower that even many racers might never witness.
Every December, from 2012 through 2017, the 25 Hours of Thunderhill was a mainstay of my photographic schedule. It was always a huge challenge, as well as a huge opportunity.
The challenge was to see the race in a different way, from a new perspective, every single year. But the opportunity was a chance to witness facets of the race that are often hidden from view, and to use them to help people understand why that race was — is — so special and so unique.
In fact, when I made my first book, "Behind the 25," my approach was to gradually peel back the layers of the 2016 race, starting with the pomp and circumstance of the event, and ending with tense moments inside the control tower that even many racers might never witness.