Father's Day 2009

In celebration of Father's Day, I thought I'd share a photo of myself with one of the Junior Ricardipi:


Thought question - where's the camera?

That's JR#2 on the swing. JR#1 and Mrs. Ricardipus were nearby, at the splash park.

Perhaps in a little while I'll post a photo of the Most Excellent Gift they gave me. We have to all sit down and assemble it first, though.

Happy Father's Day, you lot (or whatever subset of you lot this applies to... you get the idea).

This is not a flippin' "Tweet", it's a blog post, get over it already.

From yesterday's Metro, which is admittedly not the most reliable news source in the world:

According to a new study from Ipsos Reid, 74% of Canadian internet users are unaware of Twitter. Of those who are aware... just 6% reported having used it.

I feel vindicated.

Pedantry

My eight year old son just corrected me on the plural of Paramecium.

Sigh.

Summer's here, and the time is right...

...for racing in the streets.

Or so the song goes, anyway... the Bruce Springsteen song, that is.



Street racing may not be legal, but there’s nothing wrong with a road course. It’s been a long winter, and as well as being the traditional time to open up the cottage, Victoria Day heralds another long-standing event: Speedfest Weekend at Mosport International Raceway.

Mosport, about an hour east of Toronto and north a bit, is a legendary track in racing history. Some of the greatest have competed here: Jim Clark, Mario Andretti, Richard Petty, Jackie Stewart. Stirling Moss, the story goes, even made suggestions to improve turn 5, the "Moss Corner" that now bears his name. Canadian icon Gilles Villeneuve contested the 1977 Grand Prix, his last appearance here before his death at Zolder in 1982, and even “The Maestro” Juan Manuel Fangio is said to have driven the track. Nestled in rolling hills, surrounded by woodland, with a view on a clear day of Lake Ontario to the south, it’s a beautiful place to hike, take photos, and enjoy the scenery. As long as you remember to take some earplugs.

Up at the crack of dawn and eastbound on Highway 407, narrowly missing a goose that decided it would be an excellent place to stand, and onto the country roads that lead to the track. The day started bright, but bitterly cold – three degrees Celsius, and very windy. Just before nine in the morning, after nearly being blown off the bridge over the pit straight and unintentionally taking a few photos because my numb fingers fumbled the shutter button, I headed for the relative shelter of the paddock.


Damn, it was cold up there.

Here, the cars wait to compete, while mechanics, spectators and drivers buzz around. I met Flickr acquaintance f1design, avid motorsports fan and photographer par excellence. He and his friends were likeable, enthusiastic, and tooled up with some serious photographic equipment that put my (ok, Mrs. Ricardipus's, actually) camera to shame, much though I like it.

The day consisted of hiking the track, which at 3.9 km in length and surrounded by hills and at-times dense woods, was a workout. We made the entire circuit during the course of the day, stopping at different vantage points during a full slate of races. After some qualifying sessions, the first was the Speed World Challenge Touring Car event, with race-modified Acuras, Mazdas and BMWs dueling for the lead.


Acura vs. Mazda... the Acura won, this time.

That was followed by the GT race – this time, high-powered sports cars: Corvettes, Dodge Vipers, Porsches, a Mustang Cobra and a pair of surprisingly fast Volvos, in the hands of pro- and semi-pro drivers.


Not exactly your parents' Volvo.

Next up was the Canadian Touring Car championship, a very competitive race featuring a huge field of lightly-modified road cars: Subarus, Hondas, Hyundais, Fords, Toyotas, BMWs... even a Mini:


It came second in its class; not a bad result, really.

The final event of the day was the Trans-Am race (not featuring any Pontiac Trans Ams, though – the car took its name from the racing series, not the other way around). Here, heavily modified Jaguar XKRs and Corvettes battled with a lone Mustang and a hopelessly outclassed Mazda RX-7. A spectacular run by German driver Klaus Graf, starting dead last and demolishing the field to take the win, was the day’s highlight.


Klaus Graf, taking everyone to school.

At the end, after a tiring walk back up the hill to the car parked in the infield, I said goodbye to 'f1design', and headed home, nursing a nascent case of sunburn on both ears. I’ll be back in August for the repeat of last year's American Le Mans race, if not before.


Two photographers, heading home. I'm neither of them, obviously.
--

I took over 240 photos on the day. Some of them are shown here; if you’d like to see the rest of the ones that turned out well (far less than the number taken, believe me), they’re found in this set. More information about Mosport’s history can be found here, for anyone who might be interested.

Just ticking over...

Been a bit quiet around here recently, hasn't it? Sorry about that.

The usual onslaught of busy-ness, which I've complained about frequently enough not to bother you with it again, coupled with rather a lack of creativity, and rather a lot of things to photograph, edit and post to Flickr, has been undermining blog posting rather.

Ah well. Perhaps I'll update you on a few things that have happened recently in some future posts. In the meantime, it's shaping up to be an interesting week and Victoria Day long weekend to come. And the most notable occurrence, one that I know that many of you will be intensely jealous of, is:

Ye Seconde Visite of Huge Alex.

Yes indeed, Aled is coming to sunny Toronto again, and like last time, will stop off at the ridiculously-named place where I work for a coffee, a natter, and maybe, just maybe, if we're both feeling sufficiently secure in publicizing the event, a photo-op. He's already reminded me that it's my turn to buy, in case you were wondering.

Slightly less exciting, but still fun, will be another visit to the twisty goodness that is the racetrack at Mosport, this time for the Victoria Day Speedfest. Rather an over-the-top name, but it should be good fun, with GT Sports Cars, Touring Cars, and the SCCA Trans-Am series all rolled into one weekend. I've already got my ticket, and I'm even planning to meet up with yet another internet-only connection, Flickrite f1design, coming down from Ottawa or thereabouts for this event. Should be an enjoyable time, as long as it doesn't pour with rain like it's doing this weekend.



That's about it for now, I'm afraid... as mentioned, I'll update a few other things soon. Unless I'm too lazy, or forget.

Epilogue

Now that I've (finally) finished reading the article referred to in this post about Shakespeare, I thought it was worth mentioning the authors's final remark:

There are perhaps other questions in history or the humanities that may benefit from proctologic examination.

I leave it open to suggestion as to what these questions might be.

Racing, in the rain.

There are always times when I feel like this - having to step lightly on the gas, tap the brakes carefully, react quickly at every turn and try, no matter what, not to skid off the road. Fortunately, these times are infrequent, and are interspersed with periods of calm, times to relax, to breathe, to ease the grip of the hands on the wheel, unclench the muscles in the back of the neck, let the laser-focus lapse a little. This, I'm glad to say, is one of those times.

Time to read a good book, for a change from all the scientific papers I've been plowing through recently - and the book in question this time is, perhaps not surprisingly, The Art of Racing in the Rain, by Garth Stein. From which I've borrowed the title, obviously, but which also provided the inspiration.

It's been a while since I've encountered a book that grabbed my attention like this one, and also since I've had the time to read one. And let me tell you this: it's excellent. The premise is simple enough - a man, Denny, has a dog (predictably named "Enzo"), a wife, a daughter, and a dream to be a professional race-car driver. The twist? The narrator is the dog.

Now, this might sound ridiculous, but I'll tell you something else for free: Stein is a genius, and his adoption of Enzo's point of view is a tour de force of voice appropriation, and entirely convincing. Enzo tells us Denny's story from ground level, filling in detail from his imagination where necessary, giving us flashes of humour and insight into the lives of both dogs and people. The story, though gently framed, is gripping - not about racing so much, although the metaphors are beautifully executed, but the drama of Denny's daily activities. At about 90% of the way through, I am, in an appropriately clichéd way, having trouble putting it down. The best books, I think, are the ones where I can't wait to find out the outcome, or the next event; this is one of those.

Unfortunately, the best books are also those where, once at the end, I am disappointed that there isn't any more. But that's a premise of good entertainment: always leave the audience wanting. I know this one will be like that, and even so I can't wait to finish it, to find out how and when and where Denny and Enzo will end up. Even on a weekend when I will want to watch the Chinese Grand Prix and another American Le Mans race (from the storied Long Beach circuit - how Enzo would comment!), I'll be curled up on the closest couch, turning pages, imagining myself twitching around the hairpins of Denny's life. And keeping a close, close eye on the sky.