Tag Archives: Recollections

by | September 2, 2013 · 2:19 pm

Things I Ate At The C.N.E. In 2013

There was no Cronut Burger for me.

There was no Cronut Burger for me.

Yesterday I properly completed my annual pilgrimage to the Canadian National Exhibition to eat bizarre fair foods. Once again it was a full-on adventure.

The marquee attraction this year was Epic Burger’s “Cronut Burger,” a hamburger made from a bun fused from croissant and donut, all with a maple bacon jam atop it. Alas, said maple bacon jam made 223 people ill  from Staphylococcus aureus toxin a week earlier and when I went to buy one yesterday it had understandably been banned from sale.

Of note, I was this close to purchasing a Cronut Burger on the day it poisoned everyone into barfing uncontrollably and shitting their pants. That was the same night as the Jane’s Addiction/Alice In Chains concert and as I passed through the Ex to go to the Molson Canadian Amphitheatre for the show I stopped in the Food Building for dinner. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the lineup for the Cronut Burger was too long so I had Jalapeno Poppers somewhere else instead.

I did, however, make up for it by eating some other horrible things which I have photographed and rated below for your vicarious thrills.

Check them out:

Nutella Sweet Potato Fries

Nutella Sweet Potato Fries. For deep fryer food these fries were pretty much perfectly done. There was too much Nutella, though, and I’m convinced this put me into a mild diabetic coma for the next three hours. 6/10

Fountain Cola

Fountain Cola. The tyranny of Coca-Cola products continues at the Ex. (Try to find a healthy drink. I challenge you.) So we gave in and got that fountain machine refill deal again. First blast was root beer with vanilla. It was ok. 5/10

Breakfast Dog

Breakfast Dog. A hot dog with scrambled egg on it, wrapped in chicken bacon. I’m a bit of fastidious eater, so when food is messy I consider it an insult. For this meal three separate chunks of egg had landed on my shirt before I had even taken a bite. That, and the chicken bacon was gross. 3.3/10

Nutella Jalapeno Poppers

Nutella Jalapeno Poppers. This was one of things I had on the escape-the-Cronut night. The Poppers were standard pub fare, but well done, and the Nutella was more discreetly layered this time. 5. 7/10

Wild Child Kitchen's Wild Cacao Smoothie

Wild Child Kitchen’s Wild Cacao Smoothie. When I was in my diabetic coma I declared we needed a healthy drink. After hunting for ages we found the Wild Child Kitchen, which served up juices, smoothies and vegan dishes. This was Sarah’s drink and it was bammed up with cacao. Too much I’d say. 5.8/10

Wild Child Kitchen's juice

Wild Child Kitchen’s juice. I had a watermelon/cuccumber/lemon juice thing and it was hella good. Also, as a cost-to-labor ratio, the gals at Wild Child were super-busting their asses to make our drinks compared to the efforts of other vendors. 7.3/10

Corn Dog and Ice Tea

Corn Dog and Ice Tea. This was also from Cronut night. Standard Corn Dog… 6/10. Fountain ice tea… 4/10.

Mongolian Beef Flatbread

Mongolian Beef Flatbread. The thing about white people is they’re scared of that thar foreigner food. Like beef, carrots, bean sprouts and onions in gravy on bread. There was no lineup for this Mongolian place and it was great. 7/10

Smore Dog

S’more Dog. A chicken wiener dipped in chocolate with graham cracker bits and marshmallows on it. This was wrong. It wasn’t as fundamentally horrible as the Chocolate Eclair Dog I ate last year, it just made no sense. And it was messy. It WAS a conversation piece, though. Multiple people came up and talked to me while I was eating it. 2.3/10

Additional reading:

Things I ate at the CNE in 2016. Bug Bistro’s Bug Dog and Fran’s Blueberry Milkshake with a slice of real blueberry pie.

Things I ate at the CNE in 2015. Including Frosted Flakes Chicken On A Stick and The S&M Burger.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2014. Including Cocoa Chicken and the Thanksgiving Turkey Waffle.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2012. Including the Chocolate Eclair Dog and Bacon Nation Nutella BBBLT.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2011. Including the Krispy Kreme Hamburger and Deep Fried Twix.

Things I ate at the C.N.E. in 2010. Including Deep Fried Butter and Taco In A Bag. I

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by | August 14, 2013 · 1:40 pm

Wilderbeat Revisited: Brian Jonestown Massacre In The Bush During The Great Blackout Of 2003

Brian Jonestown Massacre

Brian Jonestown Massacre

It’s been a full decade since North America’s entire eastern seaboard was plunged into a multi-day blackout (which I remain convinced was a massive anti-terrorism fire drill). I spent that weekend camping out at an ill-fated mod rock festival called Wilderbeat. Here’s what I wrote in the aftermath:

Amidst the blackout chaos, low attendance and some devious local politicking working against them, organizers of the Wilderbeat mod/garage/psych festival definitely learned about bad luck the hard way.

The Brit-pop kids of Toronto’s Blow Up scene are generally too precious by half, so asking them to rough it in the wilderness for three days to hear bands they’ve barely heard of was a dicey proposition from the start. But throw in one of the biggest power outages in North America’s history and it made for a lot of no-show campers. Probably more damaging to the fest though was its location — the Country Camping grounds in Port Burwell. Calling itself “Ontario’s #1 party campsite,” the operators of the site apparently had a change of heart about that claim over the weekend. Citing a combination of blackouts, police warnings, noise complaints and some new local by-laws that had been passed, the DJs and bands set to perform during the late-night portions of the weekend were all forbidden to play.

All of which made for a fittingly fractured climax with the performance of California rockers the Brian Jonestown Massacre. See, despite everything Wilderbeat was up against, the bands that were scheduled to perform during the day Saturday dutifully came, played and did their job.

The Candidates have shown vast improvement over the last year or so. The Gruesomes were still a dose of entertaining nostalgia. And The High Dials potent set was more proof that they’re poised for bigger and better things. Despite the campsite security guards trying to enforce a “skinny-dipping only after dark ” policy in the campground pool and a DJ roster met with total indifference, the bands played. That is, until they got to the headliners BJM. Fronted by the always enigmatic Anton Newcombe, BJM set themselves up on the main stage at just about midnight on Saturday night. Things looked promising… and then before a note was even played, the plug was pulled.

All the power to the stage — the lights, everything — was gone. This, of course, cued up a spectacular rant from Newcombe. Standing at the side of the stage, he railed against the campground owners, calling them “hippie fuckers” and accusing them of trying to rip off the people. Somewhere in this tirade were also rants about the devil being at work here and a tantrum where Anton galloped through the pool/lounge area of the grounds while other BJM members took solace kicking a nearby inflatable palm tree.

In short, it was a total bummer scene. With angry folks milling about and clearly no BJM performance forthcoming, it was time to retire to our campsite deep in the nearby woods to salvage out of the evening what partying we could. It seemed like a lame way to end the weekend, but then around 2 a.m. a couple of well-informed stumble-drunks rushed into our site with exciting news.

“BJM are playing again!”

“They’ve got some crazy set-up at the movie area. They’re going on soon!”

See, deep in the heart of the campsite, the Wilderbeat folks had set up a giant outdoor whitescreen and had been running reels of classic mod movies. BJM, being industrious sorts, took over the movie area; they were going to perform after all. Just that instant of anticipation, the realization of what was about to happen, was an adrenalized buzz. BJM were subverting the system. And fuck everyone, they were going to play.

When we got to the movie area BJM were all set up. The entire band was crammed onto two pieces of plywood to signify the “stage.” A crude PA system had been set up and best of all, with no proper mic stand available, Anton’s vocal mic was set-up, bound via someone’s ratty bandana, to a wooden tiki-torch. And then they started to play. I’m not even sure what they started out with — I think it was “Servo.”

BJM-wilderbeat-bush-concert

But in the almost total darkness, with the sound crackling through the jury-rigged sound system, the hundred or so people who were still awake and aware of the show started howling. Wild, out of control and drunkenly swaying, this crowd was ready. What seemed like a massive letdown was about to turn into one of the most transcendental concerts BJM will ever play. Another song in and the crowd was lurching, right up on the edges of the plywood. The tiki-mic completely collapsed and Anton enlisted Robbie from The High Dials to hold the microphone for him.

Robbie’s job was simple, hold the mic for Anton to sing into while he played guitar. It just added another layer of chaos to the whole performance. And then, like a walking, unkempt buzzkill, the campground security showed up. Brazenly sauntering onto the stage and threatening Anton to stop, the music was temporarily halted. Somewhere during exchange, Newcombe told off the guard, yelled at one of the band members for being out of tune and was the beneficiary of the following chant from the crowd: “Angry mob! Angry mob! Angry mob!”

Security got the message and left.

Someone shouted “Just play!” and the band ripped into the song “Who.” Frenzied from all the drama, the savages in the audience brayed in a united, primitive chant. “Who!” then guitars, “Who!” guitars “Who!”

It was magical. Then the plug was pulled.

The security folks had found and cut the power to the movie area. The show was over. What could have been something incredible had been crushed underfoot. But everything wasn’t a total loss. For those few fleeting moments, rock ‘n’ roll had succeeded. And even though the first ever Wilderbeat Festival ended up being a near-complete fiasco, those few brilliant moments of howling at the moon will never be taken away from us.

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by | July 17, 2013 · 4:00 pm

Eulogy For A Small Town Newspaper, R.I.P. Midland Free Press

Carrier of the week

Carrier of the week

The Midland Free Press, a newspaper that has been serving the Huronia area of Penetanguishene and Midland, Ontario recently announced it was shutting down.

The paper, which had four separate corporate owners since 1994 — Southam Newspaper Group, Hollinger, Osprey Media, the Quebecor — had published in the area for 134 years, beginning in 1879.

“In recent years, the paper has had financial challenges,” said Rob Leuschner, the Regional Publisher/Director of Advertising for The Free Press, in a statement in the paper’s last edition. “The team at The Free Press has worked diligently to improve the financial position of the newspaper but at the end of the day it has not been enough to justify the investment required to continue publishing. I would like to thank readers, advertisers, community leaders and the staff of The Free Press for their past contributions and commitment to the paper.”

It’s not news that newspapers have suffered tremendously in the digital age. And beyond a vague sense of anger directed towards the bean counters who have to pull the trigger on these decisions it’s an uncomfortably blameless scenario. There’s just not enough money to make small town papers like this work anymore.

The real bummer here is the personal one. My first job came when I was 10 years old, working as a paper boy delivering copies of the Free Press to people in my neighborhood. In hindsight I wasn’t a very good carrier. I had to collect the money from subscribers myself — quite a responsibility for a pre-teen — which I would then promptly embezzle and use to go buy the latest comic books from the drug store over on Main Street.

It’s only now that I know it’s gone that I truly realize what the loss of the Free Press will mean. See, it wasn’t just a newspaper that taught me some harsh lessons in financial responsibility, or helped plant the seeds for my future on the fringes of journalism. The best aspect of the Free Press was its service to the community.

When I used to go back to Penetang from the city to visit my grandparents one of the first things I’d do is hunker down and read the paper to find out what was going on. On top of that, my aunt Donna would occasionally mail me clips from the paper about what my old school and teammates were doing.

See, everyone in Penetang made it into the Free Press at some point for something or other. And the thing about that is, unless you ended up in the often-hilarious and occasionally uncomfortably tragic capsule police reports, it was a little hug in newsprint form. Like a benevolent teacher who’d dole out gold stars to the local citizenry, the Free Press was a positive force reaffirming that everything was OK.

I’ve got tons of clippings with my name mentioned in little league recaps and minor hockey reports. One of my proudest moments was, while playing junior hockey, when the Free Press referred to my goaltending style as “hellbent for leather.” I considered it the highest compliment and only years later realized there may have been a coy edge to that line, a playful jab at my then-wicked hockey haircut (Jaromir Jagr had nothing on me) filtered through a Judas Priest/Heavy Metal Parking Lot lens. None of which makes the line any less great.

With the Free Press gone, so will be the opportunity for others to experience similar giddy thrills. So long old friend, thanks for the comic books and “Brophy Nets 3” headline when I was a 10 year old soccer star.

The peak of my soccer career

The peak of my soccer career

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by | June 29, 2013 · 3:56 am

25 Important Questions About The Glades

The Glades

The Glades

I think too much. This poses problems in many areas of my life, but it’s particularly irksome at night. My brain just doesn’t turn off like the lights and various other electronic devices and Aaron. It just keeps coming up with shit and, much like Ric Flair when you ride Space Mountain, it can go all night long.

I need to distract my stupid brain, and I need to distract it very specifically if I ever want to get any sleep. If I just turn everything off and leave it to its own devices, it will be all

“OhheydidyouknowthatyourenotgettinganyyoungerandyouarecompletelyrunningoutoftimetomakeanythingoutofyourselfandalsoyousuckandyourarmsaregettingflabbywhenwasthelasttimeyoudidaburpeeandheyrememberthatMrShowskitletsreciteallthelinesrightnowandohmygodyouprobablyhaveaterminalillnessorsomethingandalsodidimentionyoureatotalfailurebutletsgetaNorthernPikessonginyourheadrightnow.”

And if I try one of those lovely white noise machines that are supposed to help you get to sleep, it goes all “OhheydidyouknowthatyourenotgettinganyyoungerandyouarecompletelyrunningoutoftimetomakeanythingoutofyourselfandalsoyousuckandyourarmsaregettingflabbywhenwasthelasttimeyoudidaburpeeandheyrememberthatMrShowskitletsreciteallthelinesrightnowandohmygodyouprobablyhaveaterminalillnessorsomethingandalsodidimentionyoureatotalfailurebutletsgetaNorthernPikessonginyourheadrightnow AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LISTENING TO?”

There are only two things in this world that soothe my tortured brain and let it and therefore me rest: Lake Erie waves and television.

I only get the former for one week a year when I go to the cottage, so I mostly have to rely on TV for pre-rest routine. And it used to have to be a very specific kind of TV: something I’ve seen before so my desire to find out how it ends doesn’t keep me up, but nothing I’ve seen so many times that I know the plot too well which allows my mind to drift. But I’ve long since worn out my 30 Rock, Mighty Boosh and Community DVDs and Aaron won’t let me watch Fringe at night because it creeps him out, so I’ve had to expand my repertoire lately.

In doing so, I discovered an amazing new form of sleep aid: the show I only really like enough to watch for a couple of minutes but not so much that I actually want to stay up and watch it properly. That was how I “watched” nine seasons of Red Dwarf and experienced some of the easiest sleep of my life. But then I ran out of episodes of questionable British sci-fi “comedy” and needed a new show to lull me into unconscious bliss.

Somehow, I decided that it was a good idea to try The Glades. It worked like a charm at first, but then I started thinking too much, as I am wont to do. And there’s a lot to think about when it comes to The Glades.

the-glades-2-550x292

Interestingly enough, those flamingos are less plastic than any of the acting or situations on The Glades.

Look, I know how absurd this sounds. The Glades, A&E’s (which used to stand for “Arts and Entertainment” but now stands for “aaaeeee,” which I assume is the closest thing to a coherent sound that their current demographic can utter) answer to CSI Miami, certainly doesn’t look like a show that requires any thought at all. But it is, in actuality, far from your average procedural. In the sense that it is far worse than your average procedural.

It is, in fact, aggressively bad.

It is a procedural show that has even less use for procedure than it does for silly things like logic, foreshadowing, characterization and believable dialogue. It might actually be written by those box-shoe children from the Mr. Show skit about a scriptwriting sweatshop because it was certainly not created or crafted by anyone who knows anything about life or crime or words.

Apparently it’s about Jim, a rogue Chicago cop with a smart mouth who gets shot by his boss because he maybe bonked the dude’s wife and then transfers to Florida with his settlement and begins taking his fucking golf club to crime scenes and solving crimes based on nothing but his whims, conjecture and “charm.” There’s a subplot where Jim gets bitten by an alligator and then proceeds to fall in the least believable love in the history of television with the nurse who fixes him up, but she’s married to a dude in prison and then there’s angst and other nonsense that I mostly sleep through. And there’s some other characters and stuff and sometimes they have families and parties and crap, but I think it’s mostly about Jim pulling shit out of his ass at the last minute and then whining about his will-they-or-won’t-they soulmate.

Anyway, I’ve spend the past week and change thinking about The Glades. A lot. So here are 25 of the most pressing questions with which I’ve been wrestling:

  1. How did this get on the air?
  2. Who watches this show, other than me when I’m trying to fall asleep?
  3. Does it make more sense if you don’t fall asleep at the 10 minute mark?
  4. Does the lead actor cry himself to sleep at night because he’ll never be Damian Lewis in Life?
  5. Have the writers ever actually interacted with other people?
  6. Do they know how human relationships work?
  7. Has there ever been a more aggravating and stupid “will they or won’t they?” relationship on TV?
  8. How many plaid shirts and rompers does a med student and nurse who mostly lives and works in scrubs need?

    The-Glades-Kiele-Sanchez

    Plaid Shirt #829374189237489274

  9. Does anyone else sympathize with the Chicago boss who shot Jim?
  10. Is Chicago Boss Who Shot Jim, despite being a Maris-like figure who never appears on the show, the best character on The Glades?
  11. Why haven’t more people shot Jim?
  12. Has anyone on this show ever taken acting lessons?
  13. Have they ever been in anything else, like maybe a Lifetime movie?
  14. If Tobias Funke were a real person, would he be able to land a lead role on this show?
  15. Does the wardrobe department have a bikini quota for each episode?
  16. Was The Glades created to make CSI Miami feel better about itself?
  17. Seriously, would this show make more sense if I paid attention to it?
  18. Was that scene where Jim got attacked by a snake at a charismatic church the most realistic thing you’ve ever seen?
  19. Did the writers for this show do any research at all?
  20. Have they ever met anyone in law enforcement?
  21. Have they ever watched an episode of Law and Order?
  22. Why are they still trying to make carrying a golf club to crime scenes a thing?
  23. Why does no one ever call Jim on his taking golf clubs to crime scenes by saying something like, “Why the fuck are you touching the body and evidence with your golf club, you massive tool?”

    Seriously, what the fuck are you doing, young man? You are at a crime scene! Put that gold club AWAY. And stop rubbing it all over the fucking EVIDENCE. Or I will shoot you.

    Seriously, what the fuck are you doing, young man? You are at a crime scene! Put that golf club AWAY. And stop rubbing it all over the fucking EVIDENCE. Or I will shoot you.

  24. Does Jim do or say anything that wouldn’t immediately get him fired in real life?
  25. WHY?

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by | June 22, 2013 · 4:12 pm

I Drove The 24 Hours Of Le Mans And Kept A Diary Of It

The Red Bull x2010

The Red Bull x2010 in the main stretch.

The 24 Hours of Le Mans, one of the most grueling, historic auto races in history is happening again in Le Mans, France this weekend.

For a full day some of the best drivers will push some of the toughest and most sophisticated race cars around the high speed Circuit de la Sarthe track.

It’s a contest that few can ever claim they’ve won at.

I can.

Granted, I did it on my Playstation 3 while playing Gran Turismo 5. And it took me 26 days to complete. And I used a fictional future-car that was 30 per cent faster than my competition.

But still.

It was a major grind, nonetheless. And for reasons I still haven’t entirely come to terms with, I kept a diary of the whole experience.

So, in honour of all the real drivers who’ll be zooming around this weekend, here’s my experience driving 24 Hours of Le Mans…

The grandstand at Le Mans

The grandstand at Le Mans.

My opponents at the starting line for the race would be:

J. Greer in the McLaren F1 GTR Race Car ’97
H. Emerson in the Speed 8 Race Car ’03
W. Houston in the R390 GT1 Race Car ’98
N. Nagai in the GT-ONE Race Car TS020 ’99
A. Mendoz in the Viper GTS-R Team Oreca Race Car #51
J. Niemi in the Courage C60 Peugot Race Car ’03
R. Juarez in the V12 LMR Race Car ’99
S. Sheppard in the Audi R10 TDI Race Car ’06
J. Callahan in the CLK-LM Race Car ’96
E. Robinson in the Viper GTS-R Team Oreca Race Car #51
J. Yasuda in the C60 Hybride – Judd Race Car ’05

I was driving the Red Bull x2010 Vettel. It’s Gran Turismo’s ultimate vehicle, a fictional creation designed by real car engineers who were tasked with creating the ultimate open-wheeled race car, which the video game developers then unleashed into a pool of otherwise real historic automobiles.

Selecting the Red Bull x2010 secured me an insurmountable mechanical advantage. I knew I was going to win this race — if you’re going to play a video game for 24 hours straight, you don’t want to lose — and there was a certain amount of guilt in knowing that I was all-but cheat coding my way to victory.

Saturday, Nov. 26

The race begins…

Looking back on my notes, I clearly didn’t have this idea for a diary right from the start and it must have come about from trying to map my pit stops or something because my first note is…

“Raining.”

That’s it. In GT5 rain is the worst. I must have thought it would blow through quick because I kept racing.

Thursday, Dec. 1

75 laps
3:44 completed
Sky starting to go a bit dark
Best lap: 2:36.874 on #74

One of the things Gran Turismo 5 introduced on one of their game updates last year was to allow mid-game saving during the endurance races. This had been a massive point of contention for GT5ers because prior to that people who wanted to run these distance races would just have to play, then put the game on pause for hours/days/weeks if they had to switch off and play “life.”

On a personal note, I’m convinced trying to do Circuit de la Sarthe this way some months earlier was what drove my first PS3 to Yellow Light Of Death.

Most of the notations I’ve taken are from when I go into the pits to save/suspend the race.

83 laps
Best lap 2:36.168 on #82

Circuit de la Sarthe boasts three separate gigantic straightaways which allow some super-fast racing. If there are cars ahead of and you play your drafting game right you can get some amazing speed.

Drafted off someone on #84. Hit 458 km/h.

Double draft on the same straight on #87. Hit 472 km/h.

90 laps
Suspending the race. Here’s where my top opponents ranked:

2. J. Yashuda in the C60 Hybride – Judd Race Car ’05
3. H. Emerson in the Speed 8 Race Car ’03
4. R. Juarez in the V12 LMR Race Car ’99
5. J. Niemi in the Courage C60 Peugot Race Car ’03
6. N. Nagai in the GT-ONE Race Car TS020 ’99
7. J. Callahan in the CLK-LM Race Car ’96
8. S. Sheppard in the C60 Hybride – Judd Race Car ’05

Friday, Dec. 2

91 laps
4:26 completed
Darkness is descending
Best lap: 2:36.874 on #74

94 laps

My headlights come on. I’m about to spend the next eight hours racing a car in the dark. Which if it was real would be a crazy challenge. Because it’s for the purpose of playing a video game it’s mostly just ludicrous.

First lap during the dark times is 2:54.542.

98 laps

Just discovered there’s a “lights on” indicator. Also, a precipitation indicator.

106 laps
5:13 completed

Driving in almost full darkness. Since the sun set I’ve done no lap under 2:46.

SHIT. DIDN’T SAVE PROPERLY. JUST LOST #92 – #106… starting over from last save.

Second time around I have a much better “first lights on” lap… 2:39… though I follow that up with a 2:49.

107 laps
5:17 completed

111 laps
5:29 completed

I’m getting worse in the dark. Also, when you drive around the course there are now intermitted fireworks going off in the background. They’re very distracting. On #113 I do a 3:05.

116 laps
5:43 completed

Fireworks still going off all over the place. Going to suspend the race.

The long straight

The long straight.

Saturday, Dec. 3

125 laps
6:08 completed
Driving through deep darkness
Best lap: 2:36.874 on #74

Hit 2:44 on #123. Then a 2:41, then a 2:45, then a 2:43. I appear to be reaching a breakthrough in the night driving.

Hit 2:39.712 on #129

Don’t want to use the word “in the zone,” but not focusing on the track anymore. It’s more like the distant focus you use to look at those 3D pixel photos you find in the mall where there’s secretly photos of eagles or whatever hidden in the matrix of dots.

132 laps
6:32 completed

Sunday, Dec. 4

139 laps
Complete darkness

I do a 3:11. Feel disinterested. The tedium of doing this ridiculous race is setting in.

Not paying attention. Run out of gas on #141. This is super-annoying because the game limits you to 80 km/h while you drive your way back to the pit. I guess that’s better than being DNFed, which, in their quest for realism and genuine reluctance to allow mid-game saves, was undoubtedly something game developers discussed at some point.

I’m passed by 8 of 11 opponents by the time I hit the pit. I’ve lapped them all multiple times so I’m still in first, but it’s a slap to get passed.

149 laps
7:24 completed

There’s no change in the opponent top standings.

2. J. Yashuda in the C60 Hybride – Judd Race Car ’05
3. H. Emerson in the Speed 8 Race Car ’03
4. R. Juarez in the V12 LMR Race Car ’99
5. J. Niemi in the Courage C60 Peugot Race Car ’03
6. N. Nagai in the GT-ONE Race Car TS020 ’99
7. J. Callahan in the CLK-LM Race Car ’96
8. S. Sheppard in the C60 Hybride – Judd Race Car ’05

Friday, Dec. 9

Took five days off and having hard time adapting to the speed of the Red Bull x2010 after the layoff. It really is an unreal fast experience. The first few laps are ugly, unclean. I get down to 2.41, but then do a 3.01.

157 laps
7.49 completed
Best lap: 2:36.874 on #74

Actually went past pit and realized too late so I had to double back and couldn’t find the entrance in the dark. That was awkward.

163 laps
Do a 2.38.092.

At some point the stupid fireworks stopped… have no idea when that was. Also, the very earliest signs of dawn are beginning… lightening of the pitch black has started.

165 laps
8:12 completed

Do another 2:38 lap, a few low 2:40s and getting in the groove.

173 laps
8:35 completed

Saturday, Dec. 10

181 laps
9 hours completed

37 laps ahead of the competition at this point.

183 laps
Do a 2.35.939, a new best lap. It’s still dark

186 laps
2.32.442. Another new record!

189 laps
9:21 completed

Multiple under 2:36 laps. Best cycle yet. Still dark.

197 laps
9:44 completed

Sunday, Dec. 11

206 laps
10:07 completed

42 laps ahead ahead of the closest competitor.

208 laps
New record! 2.31.502.

Get a great draft on the straightaway of #213, hit 473, highest in hours.

213 laps
10:30 completed
Best lap 2.31.502 on #208
Fastest speed 473 km/h

218 laps
Do another best lap 2.30.419.

225 laps
Do 2.30.179, a new best lap. Hitting most laps under 2.35 this cycle.

229 laps
11:14 completed

235 laps
2.28.159 new best lap.

I saw weird flecks earlier, but now reflecting against the light it’s clear that it’s starting to rain. Also the precipitation gauge flickering up to 1 per cent proves it… 11h35 into the race, in the dark still, it’s starting to rain

237 laps
11:36 completed
3% rain
Best lap 2.28.159 on #235
Fastest speed 473 km/h

More straightaway.

More straightaway.

Monday, Dec. 12

245 laps
11:59 completed

Halfway done. Still raining and dark. The conditions are having surprisingly little effect and I’m still doing mid-2.30s laps.

Tuesday, Dec. 13

Not paying attention during a stop and thepit crew put on rain tires… they’re slower and generally unnecessary in this game. I always drive on Race Soft tires.

Yep, these Rain Tires are definitely slower. Get one 2.38, a couple 2.40, but I’m generally running far slower now. It’s also really raining, need to brake longer on every turn.

253 laps
12:22 completed

260 laps

Precipitation gauge at 100 per cent. The driving is awful now, having done multiple 2.50+ laps. On the bright side, sky is starting to lighten incrementally in the east.

261 laps
12:46 completed

By #266 the sky’s mostly an ugly grey, still raining 100 per cent.

The sun’s rising so there’s a light change. The weather’s still bad. It’s all disorienting. Averaging 2.50s.

269 laps
13:11 completed

Thursday, Dec. 15

277 laps
13:36 completed

Sun is up, but it’s grey, overcast and still raining. It required greater concentration to go slower in this rain. It’s not fun and I’m not enjoying the experience.

This is when it dawns on me… I’m 61 laps ahead of my competition right now. That’s at least three hours of “parked time” I was planning for the very end of the race.

Well, instead of racing through the rain, how’s about I park now, while it’s raining? Sure I’m basically cheating the game, but whatever, this is feeling like a ridiculous exercise right now, so I’m just going to let the car idle just outside the pit for awhile. At 13:38 I exit the pit and let the car drift to a guardrail. I’ll check it in a bit…

Some time later.

Wife: “Has your car crashed or something?”
Me: “No, I’ve just parked it for awhile.”
Wife: “This is the stupidest game ever.”

15:22 completed
Decided to return to the race. I did 1 hour, 46 minutes of idling. Still have a 37 lap lead.

286 laps
15:48 completed
Best lap 2.28.159 on #235
Fastest speed 473 km/h

Monday, Dec. 19

Four day break. Having a hard time getting back to it… just can’t be bothered. Went back to Command And Conquer in the last few days and watched a bunch of Bones on Netflix. Gotta get this over with, though.

At lap 290 I decide to park the car again. Forty laps ahead.

Return to the race at the 17 hour mark, after a full hour of parking the car. Twenty-five laps ahead.

294 laps
17:17 completed

Resolve to park the car again. This is SO boring.

Start up again at 18:03.

After the latest parking the sky got more grey and the rain harder. It’s like I’m being punished for engineering the guaranteed victory.

303 laps
18:30 completed
Best lap 2.28.159 on #235
Fastest speed 473 km/h.

Tuesday, Dec. 20

312 laps
18:53 completed

Still raining, still boring.

319 laps
19:17 completed

Decide to park it for another hour.

Gave it another hour, now at 20:23 completed. Starting up again. Still raining, eight laps ahead.

327 laps
20:47 completed

Still raining. Got a 10 lap lead. When I start again I’m going to park it for another 30 minutes.

Wednesday, Dec. 21

336 laps
21:11 completed
Best lap 2.28.159 on #235
Fastest speed 473 km/h

Still raining. Built up a 13 lap lead. Going to park the car again.

Shaved off another 45 mintues… now 21:56 completed.

I’ve got a three lap lead and there’s blue sky on the horizon. It’s still raining, though.

Going for it. Gonna try to aim for a best lap before time runs out… Score a 2.36, the best since the rain started raining a full 10 hours earlier.

343 laps
22:19 completed

Still raining.

351 laps
22:42 completed

So close to being done. I figure I have the room, so I decide to park the car for another 15 minutes or so.

Finally. It’s here… the last hour… and best of all the rain has started to slow down after 11+ hours of downpour.

Rain’s down to 72 per cent. Going for it again but because of the wet track doing mostly under 2:40s.

360 laps
23:25 completed

Here’s where my opponents are at:

2. J. Yashuda – C60
3. H. Emerson – Speed 8
4. R. Juarez – V12
5. J. Niemi – Courage C60
6. N. Nagai – GT-one
7. S. Sheppard – Audi R10
8. J. Callahan – CLK

Somewhere along the line Sheppard jumped ahead of Callan. Who knew?

I’m now dealing with the bummer realization the track’s still too wet and clearly it’s not going to dry in time for me to challenge for my lap score.

368 laps
23:48 completed

This is pretty much the last run.

And done.

Ended up doing 372 laps. Best lap was a 2.28.159 on #235 and fastest speed was 473 km/h. Glad that’s over with, even if I only raced about 15 hours of the 24 hour race.

Ferris wheel at Le Mans.

Ferris wheel at Le Mans.

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