A series of images of the Valmont Bike Park, by Brian "Radar" Campbell.
On Friday, we had tickets to the concert. Three I sold on craigslist and the buyer met me at a perfect time at a perfect spot. The last ticket went unsold, and I learned to not do a favor for a stranger and do myself the favor instead. I had an opportunity to sell the ticket to a nice man and I passed to get stood up by a female just as the show began. I watched the concert alone, at the top of the venue, and enjoyed it. Some of the show I watched from the 15th row or so and enjoyed it. I did not particularly like the set that was chosen. Afterwards we waited for traffic to die down, which was a little pointless, and we went to go sleep at the grandparents', where Dawson was just waking up when we arrived.
The Avett Brothers perform at red Rocks Amphitheatre on June 29, 2012.
On Saturday, we got a few things done and went to the pool. It was a little cold and Dawson sort of freaked out in the water. He was reasonable but his body was shaking. He was cold.
After the pool, I went to photograph the ball game. An MLB record was set, specifically, a rookie and same-day call-up hit homeruns as his first two major league hits (in his second and third at-bats). The record was that these two hits were homeruns hit from the opposite side of the plate. I got a photograph of the celebration of the first hit and I got an excellent image of the second homerun hit. I also stayed for the fireworks after the game and made a decent image.
After the game, the traffic is mind-boggling, so I decide to go for a beer and some wings at freshcraft before heading home. I sit at the bar next to a fellow named dave. I sat with Dave and talked about the meaning of all of this and I learn that he is a medical tech at the Denver County Jail, where I myself had spent some time. He tells me over and over, after I make a point, "Exactly. Exactly." Seriously this guy had a good set of ideas and ideals, primarily, that "this moment is beautiful and this moment is everything. Thank goodness it's also beautiful." Seriously, Dave knew his shit, worked three-36 hour shifts per week for $13.50/hour, and was a pleasure to meet. He ordered bourbon after bourbon to stay talking to me. I described to him many of the ideas that the readers of this blog have been exposed to already.
Sunday morning I woke up and grabbed the newspaper. I had an image in the paper of one of the home team batters. Cool.
I had planned to head up to boulder to go dirt jumping and had another game to shoot, so I threw my camera stuff in the pickup and started to drive to boulder, at around 8:45. I realized that my helmet was in the garage, and as I retrieved the helmet, I noticed my motorcycle in tha garage. At that point I felt is was a dumb idea to take the truck to Boulder and so I hopped on the moto and got there at 9:33, just three minutes late but perfectly on time.
This experience riding my 100hp BMW to the dirt jumps with every intention of riding hard, with my camera in the panniers, at 100 mph, with my bmx bike strapped to the back, at 9:00 on a Sunday morning; something about that experience, in a vacuum, was beautiful and perfect.
I jumped for a couple of hours before my friend suggested we pull out my camera, which I happened to have since I was headed to the game immediately after this ride/jumping session. He grabbed my Nikon D3 witht he AF-S 70-200 lens and snapped some nice shots of your humble narrator doing tabletops and cross ups. A selection of these images is included for the viewers' reference.
After Dirt Jumping, at around 11:30 am, I left the dirt jumps and headed directly to Cooprs Field in Downtown Denver. I planned to park for free since it was Sunday. I went in circles before deciding on a spot right on Park Avenue, near the trendy breakfast spot but also near the homeless camp. I locked my bicycle to my motorcycle with a cable lock and walked to the stadium with my rented lens and camera and laptop, which I had carried with me to boulder safely stowed away in the motorcycle's giant panniers.
A young homeless girl with ripped jeans lies on the sidewalk near the author's motorcycle.
I shot the game and mostly enjoyed myself. Dave Z. and I joked about this and that (Dinger, Todd H., J. Leyba, and A. Carpenean, all compete in a footrace. Who wins? Dinger of course. One baseball player v. two photographers, v. one dinosaur).
I edit the photos and I get out of the ballpark. I struggle to find the exit but eventually do, and I realize that I have probably been parked illegally, and I definitely left my $500 Arai helmet just resting on my handlebars. Thankfully when I return to my motorcycle, everything is still there and nothing has been messed with. My panniers were unlocked but the bike was not towed or ticketed. I ride home past the park.
The helmet rested on the mirror, unlocked, and the BMX was locked to the cylinder head guard.
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