28 December, 2013

Rebirth from Fire (25 Hours of Camaraderie, Part 3)

At the start of every endurance race is a hope for the finish. You design, you build, you plan, you prepare. You make contingencies, and backup plans for the contingencies.
As the start draws closer, you double-check everything you can, cross your fingers for the things you can't control, and you get ready to rock and roll.

The start was looking pretty good for the #4 Prototype Development Group GTM. By their second lap, they were already running ~2.5 seconds faster than their 2013 qualifying time (which was likely run on a damp track), and ~1.5 seconds faster than their 2012 qualifying time.
On lap 3, less than 5 minutes into the race, disaster struck. A fitting on the fuel rail of their LS3 engine detached and started spewing gas around the engine bay, which quickly ignited. A teammate later told me that it was getting so hot in the cockpit that when the car came to a stop, the driver jumped out without even activating the fire suppression system.

Everything in the engine bay was deemed a loss, as were some components mounted near the firewall (such as the safety harnesses). At that point, I figured the car was done. At the start of every endurance race is a hope for the finish, but sometimes, reality intervenes.
It turns out, the team had other plans. One of the other photographers mentioned offhand that the GTM was being rebuilt, and I went to see for myself. Sure enough, I got to their paddock space to find them hard at work.

The car had caught fire at around 11:20. This photo was shot at 22:00. During the intervening period, they had removed all of the fire-compromised components from the car, and had also sent a subset of the crew on a 5-hour round trip to fetch their backup engine and other replacement components.

In the photo, the team works to run a new engine harness through the vehicle, as the backup engine isn't electrically compatible with the original engine.
By 8:30 Sunday morning, the car was completely back together and would run. According to a team-member, the replacement engine first came to life around 1:00 am on Sunday morning, but they had spent the time since that point trying to hunt down electrical gremlins that were keeping the engine from running properly.
A mechanic sprays solvent on the Mass Air Flow (MAF) sensor as the engine runs. He told me that the engine was running very rich (air/fuel ratio too far toward the "fuel" side), and they suspected that the MAF wasn't properly communicating the amount of incoming air to the Engine Control Unit.
As morning turned to day, the team decided to just get the car back out on track. It came in every couple laps for driver changes, just so everyone would get a chance in the car. I was curious whether they'd been able to fix the electrical issue, but a surge of backfires during every deceleration confirmed that the car was still running extremely rich.
Seeing the car run down the front straight again reminded me of a discussion I'd had overnight with one of the team members. The car wasn't just a car; it was a symbol. He seemed to feel that having the American flag painted on the car raised it to a higher standard, in a sense.

"[The car] always finishes," he told me. And while not strictly true, I understood what he was saying. Just as the members of a color guard have a special sense of honor and pride about them, the team surrounding the star-spangled GTM had a similar sense of honor and pride for their own mission. The question of finishing the race wasn't "do we or don't we?", it was "how do we make this happen?"
In a surprisingly symbolic finish, the GTM leads the field into the pits after the checkered flag.
At the awards ceremony, the Prototype Development Group team received an award for embodying the spirit of the 25 Hours of Thunderhill.

In the photo, team managers Richard Migliori (left) and Yvonne Migliori (right) receive the award on behalf of the team, as Jerry Kunzman (center, rear), co-founder and executive director of the National Auto Sport Association sanctioning body, looks on.
Coming up tomorrow: A story of the Thunderhill safety crew, and how they made the track feel like home.

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The full 25 Hours of Camaraderie sequence:

27 December, 2013

A Hope for the Finish (25 Hours of Camaraderie, Part 2)

At the start of every endurance race is a hope for the finish. You design, you build, you plan, you prepare. You make contingencies, and backup plans for the contingencies.
As the start draws closer, you double-check everything you can, cross your fingers for the things you can't control, and you get ready to rock and roll.

In the photo, members of the #33 Tiger Racing / Bavarian Tuning Motorsport team stand by as the engine fires and starts warming up Saturday morning, about two hours before the race start.
As the #33 car took the green flag, the race was already going poorly. The car was significantly off the class pace, a fact which the team must already have known after posting mediocre qualifying results the day prior. They qualified in 13th position in their class of 16 cars, running 4 seconds off the median pace (and 3 seconds off their 2012 pace). Their fastest actual race lap was another two seconds slower.
As the race progressed, the #33 spent increasing amounts of time in the pits. Here, two race mechanics clean the row of fuel injectors on the M3's inline-6 engine during a long stop in the hot pits. Inside the cockpit, a crew member speaks with the driver, team principal Bill Maher.

After heading back out on track for a lap or two, the car came back in again, the hood opened again, and focus again returned to the top of the engine.
Bad turned to worse as the team rolled the car from the hot pits into the paddock. Here, the mechanic investigates the throttle bodies (and you can see the fuel injector rail directly above the throttle bodies). By this point, around four hours into the race, the #33 had completed 31 laps, 17 laps down from the nearest class competitor, and 85 laps down from the class leader.
A few minutes later, the team had a meeting where the decision was made to retire from the race. What struck me about the meeting was that as Maher (center) spoke, he emphasized that the even though this race didn't go their way, the team should remain thankful for the safety of the team members and the safety of the car. In essence, "we'll live to race another day."

There was obviously a rational component to the decision (as there is in any retirement), but this struck me as a particularly heartfelt acknowledgement that sometimes luck isn't on your side, and sometimes there are downsides to just sticking it out for the finish.
Maher hugs another team member as the group prepared to pack everything away after the meeting.
Until next year…
Coming up tomorrow: The story of a rebirth from fire, with the stars-and-stripes #4 Prototype Development Group GTM.

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The full 25 Hours of Camaraderie sequence:

26 December, 2013

25 Hours of Camaraderie: Introduction

Earlier this month, I traveled north to shoot the 25 Hours of Thunderhill, an endurance car race that welcomes both pro and amateur teams to run through day, night, and day again before they see the checker. I shot the race last year, and wrote it up in two parts: a more visceral reaction in "A Night of Rolling Thunder," followed by a more analytical piece, in "How to Survive an Endurance Race."

This year will be an experiment. At every event I shoot, there are a hundred different stories transpiring all at once. They're all interesting, but I generally pick one and run with it. But for this race, I'm in the unique position of having witnessed a couple of them from beginning to end, and also in having the time to write about a number of them. So why not?

I'm planning to publish a post every day for the next couple days. The theme is camaraderie. This post will be an introduction of sorts, and then each of the next posts will focus on a different team, and a different story which somehow illustrates that theme. Here we go!
So, what exactly is camaraderie? For me, it's a blend of teamwork and friendship. A group can work well as a team without really liking each other — you just keep your eyes on the prize and do your job. Camaraderie goes beyond that. These people aren't just teammates or coworkers; they're friends and family. They care about each other, and if you watch closely enough, you can see how much they care.

Above, two members from the #44 Achilles Motorsports team embrace on the starting grid.
Geri (left), a driver for the #07 Sampson Racing Radios/Pacific Throttle House team, shares a moment early on Saturday morning.
A person faces the American flag at the Turn 5 flag station during the singing of the national anthem.
Two members of the event staff embrace just before the start of the race.

I generally found the folks staffing the race to be incredibly nice, and after an unexpected act of kindness just as dusk fell, I felt like I had discovered a few comrades of my own. More on that in the coming days, but I felt like my experience with the safety crew was a particularly bright spot in what was already an amazing experience.

For me, this race also reinforced the notion that motorsports can help connect people from different generations. Sometimes it's a bond with the future…
Sometimes with the past…
And sometimes it's with the friends who we knew along the way.

As the orange glow of the sun graced the track Sunday morning, only a subset of the starting field remained in the race. Of the 57 vehicles that crossed the start line, only 41 would cross the checker under their own power. And while it was among those 41, the #05 would later be disqualified for technical reasons.
The sunrise found many teams ready to race the last three-hours-and-some until the finish. With temperatures in the low-to-mid-twenties (°F) overnight, many crew members huddled for warmth in front of propane heaters as they waited for the morning light.
But as the track finally started regaining temperature, friendships appeared to rekindle as well. During the night, people generally walked alone (and heavily bundled against the cold) when they were forced to leave shelter, but as day broke, companionship again became the norm rather than the exception.
And as the checkered flag flew, determination gave way to celebration. Drivers and crew-members reunited with loved ones, and awards were distributed. One of my favorite cars, the heavily-modified #24 Rotek Audi TT-RS, took the overall victory, in a stark contrast to their early retirement after a transmission failure last year. More on that one, too, in the next couple days.
In addition to the safety workers, I personally found friends among the other photographers and videographers who covered the race. I saw a few familiar faces (Hi, John), as well as a bunch of new ones, but I still felt like I was among friends. That's a big step from last year, where I got the job done, but by and large felt somewhat isolated.

After the race, a couple of the photographers sat at a table and rested while waiting for the awards ceremony to begin. Some shenanigans also took place. In the photo, Andrew (left) and Larry smile as they look at some shots that Joe (not pictured) rattled off on Andrew's camera as Larry walked past.
Coming up tomorrow: I follow the story of the #33 Tiger Racing/Bavarian Tuning Motorsport team.

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Correction [26 Dec 2013]: The original version of this post misidentified the driver in the second photo as "Gina." Her name is actually Geri.
The full 25 Hours of Camaraderie sequence:

29 October, 2013

Contact: Quiet Moments of Kinship

I love it when people touch each other. As a documentary photographer, I strive to notice the moments that seem to matter most — the ones that illustrate the personalities, emotions, and relationships of the subjects — and I try to capture those moments. More often than not, moments like that will involve some aspect of physical contact.

So this past Sunday, I walked around the Mountain View Farmers' Market with a friend and just took pictures. My goal was simple: 20 years from now, what images would the people I photograph care about the most? My task was to capture those images.