Race track is amazing
place. Most of the time there is nothing happening, it is clean and quiet place like a
cemetery. Cemetery of drams and ambitions to be better then others are. But once
in a while barbarians with big beards, evil scientists with big glasses and all
other types of insane people followed by their families, are invading
that place. The noise of that horde is lauder than Chinggis Khan’s cavalry on attack.
Usually old friend gathering during that
special weekend to proof each other whose better rider, who builds better
bikes, who spent time more productive during wintertime garage work. I don’t
have all this in my photos, I just tried to capture garage moments of dramatic fight of a machine
and a man to go beyond the line set by nature and moved forward from lap record
to lap record every year.
Different type of start line
Gears and bike waiting for a rider
Two generation of riders
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