THE WILD WEIRD WORLD OF SPORTS

Another weird surprise at Geekfest Denver was a random act of lucha libre.

Slaby was telling me to hang out with his friend, Kim Shively, who was big into documenting the local Mexican wrestling community.

There are no rules in photography, but there are rules in life: when Slaby talks, listen up.

Kim is totally dialed in with Denver’s lucha libre. We split during a break in action at Geekfest and found our way towards a Mexican community fair. It was so off the grid, it was beautiful.

When she first mentioned community lucha libre, I had visions of my time with Noles in East LA, where we had a blast, pure and simple.

This event had its own twist: wrestlers combatting in an outdoor ring in a light rain as the sun was setting.

Again, one of the best things about lucha libre is the interaction with the people. I always get the feeling that these wrestlers are doing a true community service whenever they compete.

Turns out there was another round of wrestling that evening, at a hip bar in downtown Denver. There were rumors that the grapplers were women, but that proved to be false.

A swarm of Geeks attended the event, which was fun to see. The scene was a little surreal and had potential. Though honestly, I was spoiled with the real goods that afternoon with Kim. I saw her in the bar and I could sense she felt the same.

One of the things I love about lucha libre is the transformation that takes place simply by wearing a mask. It’s part of the reason I enjoy wearing mine during a presentation.

It’s also why I decided to have custom masks made for my limited edition of Weird Sports. It was worth it alone to see Slaby as the The Gentleman Caller. So fucking badass.

It’s a fact: Weird Sports are taking over the globe.

How do I know this? Because I don’t even need to plan ahead to find ‘em, yo. They find me.

And that’s how, while minding my own business at Geekfest Denver, I heard about a 5k Oktoberfest Sunday fun run in tribute of Germany’s favorite star: Herr David Hasselhoff.

You’re damn right, I’m hooked on a feeling.

Runners were toasted for best Hasselhoff-inspired costume. It was top heavy with Babewatch and a few Knight Ridder outfits, plus the appropriate Oktoberfest dirndl and lederhosen. Mein leben!

Of course, there was a toilet in the mix, no doubt for all the shitty programming Herr Hasselhoff is responsible for.

Bumped into a few of my favorite Geeks, also taking pix. Loved seeing fun friend and former neighbor Heidi Hoffman in der haus.

If it weren’t for photographing Weird Sports, I might never set an alarm. This early Sunday wakeup call was well worth it. Tamika and I even scored some sweet souvenirs, including this oversized t-shirt of The Hasselhoff’s hairy chest.

Gemütlichkeit, people!

From camel racing in Nevada to car racing in Utah. That’s how I roll, people.

While road tripping in September for a bunch of photo goodness, I stopped by the infamous Salt Flats to catch an afternoon of speed.

Met up with some cool folks from Spokane, who let me ride along in their trailer bus during their heat. (Pacific NW, holla!) The entire setting is pretty visual, but I couldn’t help thinking that video would have done this place more justice than stills.

I also happened to be there on the first official day of racing, a Wednesday. There was a healthy crowd, but nothing too R-O-W (pause) D-Y. Would have liked to have been around for the weekend, but I had a book to launch in Denver, yo.

The salty earth provided a surreal setting for my images. Didn’t really matter if it was high noon, shadow details filled in nicely thanks to this monster natural reflector.

Was joking with Detrick afterwards that I came up with this ingenious idea to overexpose my images by several stops. Of course, the real joke is that that’s one of the tricks of the trade at the Salt Flats. How else do you make a bunch of folks standing around their vehicles look interesting?

I’ve got to admit, I’m not much of a car junkie. And photographing vehicles to me can be a little soulless for my taste. That said, I’m glad I had a chance to witness a little bit of the infamous Salt Flats.

Now where’s my margarita?