Silver and Gold.... and I suppose diamonds too.

I like good music. It comforts me. It motivates me. It is my companion on long lonely 10 hr drives in the middle of the night from Salt Lake City to Anthem AZ  to drive a buddies car for $149 just to drop it off and catch another ride back to SLC in a 21 hr time period. Yeah, you need good music and lots of Red Bull for that.

My idea of good music is probably far different from yours, but you know it's good when words give you chills and the beat makes you slap your thigh as you drive and you don't even know that your doing it till half way through the song. It moves you... you absorb it. You relate to it like it was written for you specifically.

Before my drive I down loaded a album from City and Colour, "Little Hell" Which was my best decision I have had recently. It made me think a lot, ( not that my brain ever shuts off) trying to manage my hectic life, relationships, running a business, and preparing to have my 1st child in 2 short months.  It made me think a lot about life and pecking orders of what the hell is ultimately important or not... social classes, self worth, happiness, others happiness. etc... One song in particular sums it all up, but then still leaves you in the unknown. Which at 31.71428 years old,  I still find myself living day to day. Does anyone really know what they are doing? Just when I think I figure it out and am about to get the cheese another door or corridor leads me to a trap just like that crappy board game.

I am going to leave you with some amazing song lyrics for you to ponder upon:

Last night a dreamt that they dropped a bomb, oh the seas ran dry and the winds had calmed.

The skyscrapers fell and crumbled to dust, their skeletons of steel were covered in rust.

And everything I loved, and feared. Had all at once, disappeared.

The colors were drained, straight from the sky. And nothing living had survived.

Mountains were merely removed from the earth, and Silver and Gold, had lost all it's worth.

And everything I loved, and feared. Had all at once, disappeared.

Oh everything I loved, and feared. Had all at once, disappeared.

I woke from the dream in a cold, cold sweat. I was full of doubt, and deep regret.

For suddenly it was all so clear to me  there was nothing left in which to believe.

And everything I loved, and feared. Had all at once, disappeared.

Oh everything I loved, and feared. Had all at once, disappeared.

 I will be a father figure in 2 short months.

Always a Uncle, never a Uncle Dad...

Isn't that how the old Appalachian proverb goes? In my 31 some years of life experience I have managed to escape pre-teen pregnancy, teen pregnancy, post- teen pregnancy, early onset adult fatherhood disorder, Maury Povich show paternity tests etc, etc....

I dodged the statistics or maybe the "statistics" dodged me, opting for other prospects to dive head first into the gene pool with. I couldn't swim so well ..... well, ever. So I waded around, can doggy paddle,  float on my back, and even dive really well, like off stuff n things like cliffs, trees, n' docks & shit.

 There is no lifeguard on duty in the gene pool, but that never stopped my friends from gettin busy in the Burger King bathroom, which leads me back to the beginning of my ramblings of being a "Uncle." I am not actually a certifiable Uncle, as I have no siblings that have spawned. But I have best friends with kids who affectionately coin me as "Uncle Jesse" with their young ones.... some have been calling me this since birth and may not know otherwise.... EVER.  I have cherished this role, have taken much joy in seeing them grow, not having to change their diapers ( Editors note: I totally will for my kid) and teaching them to fish, ride bikes, or take them to dance.

I like to teach, to show my adopted nieces and nephews things I learned growing up outside the city. So, I couldn't help but always wonder what it would be like have a little being of my own...

I attempted to make it out of dirt and dust, then thought I could use a rib perhaps. Finally I found Kirsten, the perfect mate to pro-create. . . and pro's we are. I sorta feel bad having a child with such an amazing lady. I mean, she is so gorgeous, highly intellectual, and super funny..... mixed with... you know, stuff & qualities I possess, that other kids in our child's class don't stand a chance. We are being old fashioned and waiting till our baby is born to find out is it's a boy or a girl, one thing is for sure, whatever the gender it is sure to be Rad. So for now we call our precious "Radimus"

Overall I don't really have the words to say how excited I am to bring new life into the world with my chosen partner.... so I will let these pictures do the talking.

But, I am super pumped that I know who my babies momma is!

The Wizard.

15 years ago I was a week away from my 16th birthday, which meant until the end of September I would only be 2 years younger than my older brother Elias. I looked up to him in a lot of ways and I remember feeling closer, cooler and not so little for 5 months. Then came April 27th 1996....the day my older brother stopped aging, a day so surreal that anything could hurt my hero, let alone take him away forever. We grew up in a double wide trailer on 20 acres in West Virginia, and like most older brothers he antagonized me relentlessly. 

One time when I was 3 he dumped a bucket of roofing tar on my head while we had crawled under the elevated chicken coop to play.... he exclaimed to my livid mother that I had asked him to do it. Being a redhead, I think he was jealous of my bright blonde hair, and obviously wanted them to cut it all off.

Our antics were not always one sided, as I remember him riding his Huffy down our Dirt road while speeding past kicking me. I found a branch about as thick and long as a broom stick and promptly speared it into his front spokes sending him end over end into the hard dirt. Another time while helping our dad build a tree house in the woods behind our trailer, Elias was chasing me around bullying me, until I picked up a 16 penny nail and chased him back.... I never did catch him, but in his frantic escape he tripped and took a sharp stick through his cheek earning him a couple of stitches in the process. Even better was the fact that school pictures were days later and his included his smiling face with a butterfly bandage front and center. My poor mother....

We were not always heathens, these were not everyday occurrences, just ones that stand out as instances of brotherly devotion. As my older brother, he always had more size on me so I had to be agile. Elias was always smarter than me, so I had to be more clever. Looking back, I wouldn't have grown up any other way. For all the lickings I took when he wanted to try out the latest wrestling moves he and his sidekicks witnessed on TV that day, it ultimately made me more resilient. A quality maybe he knew I would need through out this life. Maybe he was preparing me for when I was the older brother.... As the younger sibling, I feel I got the upper hand as I picked up all his qualities, intelligence, wittiness, plus the ability to adapt new ones he couldn't learn from a older brother.

I also learned from my brother to follow my dreams, and not live life for what others "think" or what social norms may be. Elias was gifted with intelligence. He was always in honor classes throughout school, his peers jealous of how he didn't have to study for advanced Algebra 2 classes and still ace tests. He had a full state college scholarship offered to him upon graduating High school.... instead Elias chose to follow his passion of skiing, moved to Lake Tahoe with a handful of other ski bums, worked the night shift at 7-11 and searched for fresh powder runs during the day.

Unfortunately a knee injury ended his season and ability to continue his excellent journey. He came home in Late March of 1996, and for the first time of our lives, we got along. He took me around his friends, not as his younger brother, but as a cohort. A month later, 15 years ago was the last time I'd get that chance.... 

Forever young, but never Forgotten.

What you get when you cross a Ballerina & a Motocross Racer.

I am typing this from Kirstens laptop in her apartment in Salt Lake City. She keeps telling me that it is OUR apartment, which is seeming like more of a reality now that I am here with more of my boy stuff. I love her girly apartment, the way she decorated it with her own touch, the way it reminds me of us first meeting. This is where we shared our first kiss, had our first Christmas together, where she taught me to roll sushi, where we watch movies and eat free wheeler pizza in our pj's.... Where we fell in love.

Kirsten's ballet shoes meet Jesse's motocross jersey.

 I just made the drive from Phoenix to Salt lake yesterday in OUR car, ( use to be just her car) packed to the brim with boxes, the trunk and backseat full. My friend Erik the Canadian followed along with his truck and trailer with our dirt bikes, tool boxes and other shop equipment. He also left Phoenix for the summer to move back to his homeland of British Columbia. Luckily for me, his migration path goes right through SLC, and he had room for my bigger items.

Canadian's trailer we took from Phoenix

I'm no angel but I've spread my wings a bit.

I do feel welcome to Utah...

Along with bringing my dirt bike, my riding gear, 3 tool boxes, some various shop equipment, my snowboard, my fishing poles, my rad CD & DVD collection, and my bitchin Goorin Bros. hat collection, I also brought a coffee table... yep, just a regular wooden, run of the mill coffee table. You see, we were not planning on me picking up and moving in with her in Utah. Our original plan was that Kirsten would relocate to Phoenix, AZ where my business is rooted. I had been in business for 2.5 years and growing rapidly, and would need to stay in AZ for another year or two until my shop could run on it's own legs.

Kirsten and I were anxious to live in the same city as we have been doing long distance since last August. Besides longing to be together on a frequent basis, we were depleting our bank accounts and vacation time taking turns to fly and see each other as much as possible. Something had to give and she decided to sacrifice her career, her girl apartment, her friends and family, and her clubs and activities in Utah to be with me in Arizona. So, she did what any normal, sane, level headed girlfriend would do.... She sold her Lexus SUV and down sized to a Honda sedan 10 yrs older, she starting selling off items we wouldn't need to move to my house in Phoenix. Among these items was her coffee table we used to eat our dinner on as we cuddled on her couch and watched movies halfway through until we wound up staring into each others eyes instead...

Deep down I never did feel right about her moving to Phoenix for me and you always go with your gut instinct right? So, I showed up unexpected on a Wednesday in March at her doorstep, exclaiming to her that we couldn't move her to Phoenix, and instead I would do what it takes to move to Utah.

OUR new-ish Coffee table

Kirsten calls me her "Luxury Boyfriend" but I hope she realizes it is because of her that I strive to be the best companion for her. I want her to know she is special and the only one I would change for... She makes me better, she makes me want to improve in all aspects of life, she makes me WANT to do the dishes, and she deserves the best of me.

Her willingness to sacrifice everything that has gotten her through the last year and 8 months speaks volumes to me... the least I could do is make my own sacrifices as well. I suspect this will happen over and over through out our lives together, and I have to say I am beyond excited about the future. OUR future.

OUR mail box

A Decade Under the Influence.

It is now mid April 2011. You write the date or at least see it on your phone or email everyday... so it doesn't surprise you unless you have just woken from a coma. But stand back and look at the big picture. The picture of your life. Whoa. I have been alive for almost 3.1 decades now. I clearly remember my parents being my age, which would have made me 6 ish.

  I have been thinking of my years lately... where I am, who I am. what I had planned. This post is about a decade. The last decade to be exact. In  mid April 2001 I graduated from the Motorcycle Mechanics Institute as the top student of my class. You see, I was never good in school, barely scraping through High School. Not because it was hard, or I was slow. Because I had no interest in what the curriculum was. To me, the years of public schooling carried little weight in the real world. I guess it prepares you for College, which prepares you for a entry level job after 4 years of partying you or your parents money away while amounting tens of thousands of dollars of debt in student loans.

I liked to think I had the common sense to know better. To know that if I had no interest in High school, I wouldn't have interest in College courses either. I loved motocross. I loved the race track. I loved dirt. I loved working on engines and mechanical stuff. After High school I worked full time for my fathers land surveying company in our small town and surrounding rural areas of Western Maryland / West Virginia. Which at 19 years old is the equivalent of watching grass grow. Don't get me wrong, my father treated me well, I made decent money, and he supported my local racing habit. While he wanted me to learn the trade and eventually take over the family business, I couldn't wrap my mind around settling. I knew there was more out there and a way to do what I love.

When I broke the news to my family and friends that I found a technical institute that was at the forefront of motorcycle technology and I was thinking of attending, my mother was supportive, my father was silent, my friends were somewhat skeptical. It didn't phase me, even though the next start date was more than 6 months away, I was determined. I think my parents thought it would be my idea of the week and I would change my mind in the following months. I continued working for my father, saving all the money I could to make my trip to Orlando FL a reality. As my departure date grew near, it starting sinking in to people that I was really leaving all my family, friends, etc behind. There were still skeptics, that said I would be back working for my father again in a year, or considering my track record in high school, I might not make it to graduation. I left home in a van with my dirt bike, tools, BMX bicycle, clothes, and a big idea in my head on March 1st 2000.   I never looked back.

*editors note: My Father, family and friends are all very proud of my chosen path and choices to this date.

Me on the left my dad on the right, our racing trailer we used to go racing together... I miss those days.

 My dreams took me to Florida then to Phoenix AZ, where I graduated 10 years ago this month. I had aspirations to work for a professional race team after graduation. Even with my success in school it was harder than I expected to get my foot in the door. All I really knew is that I was not moving back home. I had never been west of the Mississippi before Phoenix, and while I liked it out West, I was a small town country kid still. I searched for entry level jobs at dealer ships and landed a interview at a Honda shop in Utah. They wanted to hire me and I was open to relocate. So exactly 10 years ago I loaded up my van once again with my race bike, tools, BMX bike, clothes and marched forward with my dream.

I drove to Utah not really knowing what to expect. Having no real money, we had to choose between my parents attending my graduation or them wiring me money to get to my prospective job in Utah.

I had one of my classmates take some polaroids of me on the stage accepting my diplomas, and sent them to my folks back home...






From my 1st job in Utah and the start of my career in the industry I love, I have worked as a Honda Instructor at my Alma mater, gotten my dream job on a professional race team traveling the country, and even started my own race shop "The Dirt Lab".
In the past 10 yrs, I have followed my passion, stayed true to myself, and beaten many odds. The most important things I have gained from my career are all of the people I've met, lifelong friends I've made, and life experiences I wouldn't trade for the world. Truth is, I have the world. A world, surrounded by people who share the same passions or fully support mine. It has been a roller coaster of a decade, a full spectrum of emotions, good times and bad times,  life given and life lost, marriages and divorces, good health and serious injuries. But it has been a good decade, a decade that started as a hopeful dream and led me to where I am today.

Racing dirt Bikes isn't everything in the world, but racing dirt bikes has given me everything in the world.


Racing dirt bikes gave me the drive to succeed, gave me goals and a education. It gave me a career and the means to make a living. It has allowed me to travel the country, see things I never thought possible. it has given me close friends in Brandy, Colin, Ryan, Mike, Dave, Max, Travis, Joe and so many more.

Racing dirt bikes gave me Jed Mingo. Jed was our transport driver on the race team from 07-09. Jed was much more than that.... he was my traveling companion, a true friend, and I looked up to him like a older brother, A brother I myself lost 15 years ago This month. We had the ability to work and play together, never argue, never get tired of one another. We would mostly see each other on race weekends as he drove the truck to race destinations all over the USA. I would fly into the races a day or 2 early to get the bikes ready for the weekend. We always picked right back up where we left off and were genuinely excited to
hear from each other about adventures of the road or current events in our lives. It was easy to do.  The way it should be, but is hard to find in people.
During the 09 season I didn't attend many races as I had just started my new shop in Phoenix. Jed also stayed home in Utah more to run his business, and rekindle a special relationship with the love of his life.

I didn't know it then, but our paths would cross again 8 months later at the X games in Los Angeles. Just like always, we picked up telling stories and filling each other in... we were both where we wanted to be, happy and in love with our girlfriends, with our businesses and of course told these stories over a twelver of Modelo Especial.  Jed drove our truck back to Phoenix the Monday after the event. He stayed at my house that night and I drove him to the airport Tuesday morning... he was excited to get back home to his girl, and for a fishing trip with his brother and father the following weekend off the Oregon coast.
That was the last time I would see my friend.... his plane he piloted went down in the remote mountains on the Idaho / Oregon border... I was in shock when I received the news, and devastated at his loss.

The only solace was that I got to see him that one last time days before... and that he went out following his passion of flying.

I wasn't able to attend the funeral and honestly didn't desire too. I held the memory of our last weekend together as his memorial. In the following weeks my relationship fell apart. I had never met the girl Jed held so dear, but knew she was special. In the following weeks I felt the need to email her with my condolences, and some rad pictures of Jed and I from over the years. I told her for what it's worth, " Jed went out on top, in love and being loved by you." I was not sure if I would get a response, or what her response would even be...

Jesse,


Some things people say can do two things - make it worse, or bring you comfort. Your message just made everything feel so much better. That doesn't happen very often. I am pasting that into my journal! I can't be reminded enough. You are the best - no wonder he spoke so highly of you. Thanks, Jesse.

Kirsten

And that is how are friendship started with the only thing in common being our love for Jed.
We would write periodically, exchanging stories or pictures of Jed. I quickly learned how wonderful and sincere of a person Kirsten is. She is very selfless and extremely loyal, very intelligent and witty, classy yet refreshingly unrefined. Jed is a lucky man to be loved that way.

A year ago this month, a couple  of weeks before the Salt Lake City supercross, Kirsten and I decided to meet up in person and catch up on our favorite Jed stories. It was easy to do, it was simple. The way it should be, but is hard to find in people. We hung out at the race and after, the next day before we left town she directed us to the Blue Plate Diner for breakfast, then we drove back to Phoenix. Kirsten and I grew closer the next couple of months, emailing and talking regularly. I knew the anniversary of Jeds crash was looming and she was having a hard go of it the last year.. I scheduled another trip to Salt Lake that August.... It may sound cliche or just creepy... But I had this overwhelming feeling that Jed would want someone to take care of Kirsten like he would. I respect Jed and I really respect Kirsten. I watched her struggle with the loss from a far, the whole time remaining dedicated to his memory. The way it should be, but hard to find in people.


Beliefs do not come easy for me. I do not hold many near and dear. I do strongly believe that Jed guided Kirsten and I together, wanted us to heal and comfort each other. And I made a vow to him that if I were to be the one he chose... that I would do it whole heartedly and never look back, I would love her like I have never loved another, respect her like she deserves... be loyal as she deserves.. and preserve his memory like he deserves. It is easy to do, it is simple, and it is pure... The way it should be, but hard to find in people.

A decade ago I graduated school and wound up in Utah.... for my Ten year anniversary I am moving back to Utah. This time in the pursuit of happiness with the most amazing woman a dirt bike has ever led a country boy with a dream too.


"Sometimes the thing you want most doesn't happen. And sometimes the thing you never expect to happen does."
Like leaving my career, my business, and my culture I have created in Phoenix, to move it all to Salt Lake.
"You meet thousands of people, and none of them really touch you. And then you meet one person and your life is changed. Forever."


Love & Other Drugs

Lady and the Tramp.

Here's to the decades together ahead.