Our second night camped out at the base of Black Rock was a little easier than the first. Mainly because it wasn't raining and we knew where we were and what was around us. Still, venturing out beyond the comfort and safety of the fire to take care of business, there was an uneasy feeling that you were being watched, and that whoever was watching you, had strange and disturbing ideas of hospitality.
View part 2 of 4 inside,Incase you missed part one yesterday, you can check it out here.
This concludes part 2 of 4, so stayed tuned tomorrow for part 3. Check out BRMBA to learn more about their amazing riding area.
View part 2 of 4 inside,Incase you missed part one yesterday, you can check it out here.
After a fine evening sitting by the fire sampling the fruits of Oregon's micro breweries and practicing how to spell "Black Rock" backwards in mirror image with a headlamp. We woke up to dank and dreary conditions, and maybe just a hint of a hangover.
On deck for the morning was Alan Crisp.
Most of the big hits and ladder work were sopping wet and deadly to the touch, so we decided to exploit Al's high speed DH stylings. This worked out very well indeed, because firstly, Al is very good at going very fast, and secondly, Ambrose and I filmed and shot the action from the comfort of the pickup, while Chris the team manager drove us along side of the trail that Al was ripping up. Gotta' love the pan shot.
I think we worked this corner about thirty times, and even did a mid-session clothing change.
Same corner, same rider, different jersey.
The key to shooting stills alongside a filmer, is to stay the $%#! out of his shot, and vice versa. Sometimes this means climbing a tree with dead limbs and trusting that those limbs won't break right when the rider is underneath you.
As the day wore on, it was becoming evident that the rain and muck weren't going anywhere. This meant Curtis could relax because he was on deck to shoot airs, so the rest of the day was in Al's hands. Which was just fine for Al as he was having no issues slicing high speed lines through the slick mid-winter Oregon sludge.
"What, you want me to hit that slick set of berms ten more times?...no problem." Music to the ears of filmers, photogs and team managers the world over.
Sometimes all that's needed to keep everyone stoked on an otherwise nasty-ass day is to flash the horns.
The fruits of the day's labor.
After a hard day's work, it was back to crazy town to restock the dwindling food and beer supply. What a novel idea, Food and Beer at the same store...Canada listen up!
On our way back to our camp spot, we drove through Falls City, which is the closest town to Black Rock. It has a fire station, a small convenience store, and a bar ironically called The Boondocks.
Lucky for us it was Karaoke night, and the locals were all over it, and us.
Birkenstocks...enough said. Time to get out of there before it was too late.
This concludes part 2 of 4, so stayed tuned tomorrow for part 3. Check out BRMBA to learn more about their amazing riding area.
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