No double espresso tonight. Sore and beat. Sore from the TRX suspension training session with my buddy Scott Kahkonen(a great rally driver name if I ever heard one), and tired from a full day in the barn working on T-4(the rally car) with Bronson and Drew.

Feel sorry for Bronson. Bronson is our resident welder and safety monitor. He tries to keep me from doing stupid things in the shop that might blow us up or cause me to loose a digit(or three). When he walks in the door, I usually ambush him-it goes something like this; "Bronson! Glad you're here-I've been thinking...I want to totally re-design the electrical system in the car and I need you to fabricate a few mission critical components." This is all before Bronson is fully awake.

He takes it in incredible stride. Usually, he fires back some scientific(and accurate) reason why I can't do what I want to, all while I stare back vacantly at him like I did my teacher in pre-calculus class. He finally sees the futility in trying educate a simpleton driver like me and sets about the cluttered shop, muttering about how friggin' messy it is, but an hour or two later has fabricated some jewel of a component.

So the tale of Bronson is one that I share because it illustrates the fact that Last Ditch Racing isn't just about me. It's about the team and the talent that get the car, co-driver and I to the start of each event. Volunteering their time in the barn weekend after weekend, they put up with my constantly revised to-do lists.

There's a much deeper, and perhaps, appeal to our time in the barn. We're creating something. The team that emerges at an event is akin to a butterfly that was once one of those Wooly Bear caterpillars that somehow made it across the road in the fall to a place to hibernate for the winter. You've seen them-those huge-furry caterpillars with the center black stripe-plodding across the road on warmish falls days. If you're like me, you're amazed that you noticed it while driving along at 45mph, but then you mutter to yourself, "Look at the size of him-I hope the big fella makes it across the road in one piece."

We're the Wooly Bear. We did, in fact, make it across the road. We found a nice barn to live in over the winter. Sometimes-like today-the barn gets pretty busy with lots of guys cracking jokes and complaining about how messy it is. They're always smiling and having a good time.

When they shut the compressor, lights and heat off and head out the door, they're always heard saying, "What time are you going to be out here tomorrow?"

The fatigue might be making me a bit emotional, but I love my team-love that they want and enjoy the adventure that is rally as much as I do.

We're getting better. Eleven years and we're still getting better. Wiser, fitter and quicker....

Time for some rest before another long, utterly enjoyable day in the barn with my friends. :-)

Cheers! John