One time, I went viral for skiing through the streets and subways of NYC.
Another time, I rode my bicycle across the United States.
Read the full account here.
This other time, I visited Germany and drove the Nürburgring.
“Andy is rattling off details and I’m doing my best to pay as close attention as possible. We pull up to the gate and he tells me that he’s going to be giving me rally notes for my drive after seeing what I can and can’t handle. I know what rally notes are, but I’ve never experienced them behind the wheel. Basically, he’s telling me what’s ahead. Degrees of upcoming turns, position on the track, speed and gear, all while helping me keep an eye on what’s behind me, so that I don’t tie anyone up who’s trying to pass.
We’re off. I’m tense. He tells me to relax. The first lap is just a warm up, a way to get used to the car and to the track. This is an extremely foreign environment. “Safe speed, 90 left, then double right… down to third, feather the brakes. On the gas, one behind, position right, up ahead a blind thirty left, stay on the gas, she’ll hold, tight on the corner.” My heart is pounding. My hands are sweating. My whole body is sweating. I’m having a hard time getting used to the brakes, and Andy tells me not to jerk the wheel into turns, and to keep the car balanced. I’m being passed by AMG GTs and Ferraris. “That’s a lot faster than it looks – concentrate.” I try to remember to keep light hands rather than gripping with all my might. “Keep her balanced with the gas,” Andy tells me. My first lap of the Norschliefe is in the books. What. A. Rush! It was unbelievable. We exit the ring and queue right back in line.”
