Over the course of the wedding season, I have heard and seen some fun and crazy things. When a guest at this past weekend’s wedding VERY, and I can’t emphasize how much I mean VERY, casually mentioned the food truck was on fire, I was a bit confused. Was this some kind of caterer or restaurant code that I wasn’t privy to? Did it mean the food was hot and was about to be served? Surely his calm demeanor and the casualty in which he expressed this bizarre statement couldn’t possibly mean the truck was actually on fire. Either way, despite his utter lack of intensity, it sounded exciting and I ran out back to check it out. Even with his half hearted warnings, the scene totally caught me off guard. Sure enough, the caterer’s rotisserie van was being drenched by the fire department’s hoses and the smell of burnt plastic and chicken permeated the air.
Losing the entire main course of a wedding dinner to a automobile fire would throw many couples into a ragging fit. I can’t even imagine their emotional state, because when I recently dropped a piece of my breakfast on the floor I nearly had a tantrum. Caroline and Daniel couldn’t have been more relaxed. Margaritas in hand, they joined their guest and took in the spectacle as the fire department hacked and sawed off the van’s doors and put out the fire. They looked like a couple watching Fourth of July Fireworks, not their wedding dinner being drenched by hundreds of gallons of water. By this point in the day, I had already grown to like Caroline and Daniel…. this completely cemented the deal.
I think you can tell a lot about people’s character in two settings….at their wedding and while traveling. Caroline and Daniel embodied the ideal couple throughout the day and particularly during the heated fire. I hope their future travels are drastically less volatile, but even if they are, I’m sure they will handle it with ease. I had a blast spending the day with the newlyweds and I wish them many great years ahead. Here are some of the images from their very unique day.
While I am predominately a DSLR shooter, I still enjoy the use of light meters. I find them accurate, precise and fast. Especially while using strobes. I purchased the Sekonic L-758 Cine meter several years ago while I was concentrating more on film and video production. As this creative avenue has taken a back seat to photography, many of the features of the L-758 are no longer as critical. I had recently thought about downsizing to a smaller less robust meter as the size and bulk of the L-758 was causing it to remain in my bag far more than I would like to admit. Just this past week, Sekonic released a new touch screen DSLR meter and after examining some of the features I quickly sprung at the offer.
Yesterday my new L-478DR arrived and here are my initial impressions after some testing:
What is EPIC?:
-The unit is far smaller and lighter than the bulky L-758. This thing fits easily in a slim fitting pocket which means Ill be much more likely to use it. We all know what that means…more time on a mountain bike and less time in front of my computer adjusting my exposures.
-Easy customization: Keep the settings you regularly use and hide the ones you don’t want. A simple yet versatile feature. On the L-758 there were several measurements that I rarely ever used (Lux and foot-candles) With the updated meter, you can hide these settings. Cleaning out the closet, if you will.
-Pocket wizard control built in- Sure the L-758 was capable of triggering your pocket wizards, but this new meter really shines. I will only be taking advantage of a portion of the features as I use manual flash. One of the main draws for me, is being able to meter specific zones all from the meter. This is huge for me!But if you use any pocket wizard product with controlTL you will be able to adjust each separate light output from the meter. Pretty awesome.
-Touch screen: Being able to adjust many of the settings with the intuitive nature we have come to expect from the touch screen industry is a welcome addition to what was a very complicated menu system in the L-758. Hard buttons appear where they should and the rest can be controlled by the touch screen.
-Large display and layout for the three key measurements: ISO, aperture and shutter speed. These are nicely organized and create an easy flow of information. While I never grumbled about the layout on the L-758, the updated version is nice and clean improvement.
-Filter compensation: If you use any kinds of filter;(CTO, CTB, minus green or ND) this will make you wonder why you ever paid attention in math class. The meter does the conversions for you and allows you to spend more time checking your Facebook profile. Now if I can just remember to look for the filter “ON” icon before I bitch about how my meter is strangely overexposing all my images.
(I’m pretty sure that filter compensation was available in the L-758 and while I like geeking out on my gear more than most, I had no interest in memorizing a bunch of button presses like a middle schooler unlocking cheats in Halo. In the new meter, turning on the filters is only a few touches away.)
-Standard batteries- in the ideal world, this would run on AA batteries, or better yet, be USB chargeable, but the AAA’s are a huge improvement over the hard to find and expensive CR17345 of the L-758.
-Custom profiles- another feature I am excited about in the new touch screen meter is the ease of custom profiles. With a standardized test chart, you can match your specific camera’s dynamic range to the meter, resulting in fantastic accuracy. Again this was a feature available on the L-758, but if you are like me, and use multiple cameras, the ease of switching between profiles in the new L-478 is far simpler.
Tip: The Sekonic Exposure Profile Target 2 is a $130 dollar piece of paper and is not included with any of the meters. There are plenty of things I can do with $130 so rather than buy the profile I will be renting it from my local camera shop, creating custom profiles for all my cameras and then going out for a sick dinner with the remaining $120.
-One hand operation-The L-758 was not designed for single hand operation. To switch from ambient to flash or to adjust the ISO, you either had to hold the unit awkwardly and contort your fingers, or use two hands. The new touch screen L-478 is simple to operate with a single hand which allows me hang on to my camera.
What Blow Balls?:
-Start up time: In our instant gratification world, I will be a grandfather by the time this new meter starts up. In my very unscientific tests, to power up and grab a reading takes nearly four seconds vs roughly 1.5 seconds for the L-758. Only time in the field will tell how big of a deal this really is, but in my casual testing I was frustrated by the lag time.
EDIT: The start up time has strangely improved without any form of software updates? The meter no longer starts up with a loading screen and start up time is somewhere in the ballpark of 2.5 to 3 seconds now. Am I taking Crazy Pills?
-Touch screen: Sure this was in the Epic list too, but this device feels more like the pre-iphone touch screens that were tolerable until Steve Jobs showed us what life could really be like. Sure it works, but it doesn’t give you the same instant feedback. Certain touches go unregistered as well. I wish they would have leveraged the same slave labor and manufacturing plants as the big boys like Apple and Samsung.
- Jog Dial- I would loved to have one more hard button on this unit. I like the ease of changing shutter speed or aperture with the jog dial on the L-758. The touch screen just seems to lack the speed of changing these settings compared to the L-758.
-Build Quality- I like the size and weight, and the physical buttons feel good, but I am afraid that with a drop or hard hit, this thing will no longer work. While I don’t have a degree in computer engineering, the device appears to be far more digital than the L-758. The welcome screen during the startup indicates a computer inside. Hopefully it is as robust as my iPhone, since for some reason I accidentally drop and then proceed to kick my phone at least once a week.
-Lack of spot meter- This is a very minor objection for me (there is an available add on sold separately) as I can simply use my camera’s spot meter. But it may be objectionable for some.
-Longevity and obsolescence – I am certainly concerned about the longevity of this meter. The L-758 just worked. It was one of those things that you felt like you could buy once and use for the rest of your working career. Had it not been for the large size and lack of specific zone triggering, I would not be in possession of a new meter today. Holding the L-478 does not instill the same kind of feelings of a life long relationship. I actually am already worried about obsolescence as it seems it will require firmware updates and eventually these will no longer be supported as Sekonic will want to sell their newer and improved meters. This is by far my biggest concern with this device. What will it’s shelf life be?
Conclusions: I love the size, weight and ease of the L-478. It has some great features and a clear and clutter free operating screen. The easy sub menus will allow me to take advantage of many of the features that I simply ignored on the L-758. The switch to a more standardized AAA battery is another great addition. Bright daylight conditions are not an issue for the L-478. If this unit can stand the abuse of film and photography sets, it will prove to be a very nice addition to Sekonics full line of light meters. Anyone want to buy my L-758?
A few weeks ago I traveled to Sacramento to help my friend and very talented photographer Kim J Martin shoot Sydney and Justin’s Wedding. The temperatures were high outside and got even hotter on the dance floor;) Here is a small sample of a really fun wedding.
Since moving to San Francisco over four years ago, Lake Tahoe has been my winter playground. I have spent countless days fooling around in the snow at Squaw and several other ski resorts. Strangely, when the snow melts, Tahoe no longer is part of my vernacular. Many people have told me Tahoe is even better in the summer, and after shooting a corporate retreat up there a few weeks ago, I was itching to explore.
Despite all the winter trips, I had never been to South Lake Tahoe. The drive in was absolutely spectacular, but I imagine also somewhat treacherous during the icy winter months. PJ and I eventually arrived in the town of Meyers and set up our cars to shuttle Mr. Toads Wild Ride.
I was both nervous and excited for Mr. Toads. Rated “Expert,” it would be one of the more technical rides of my short mountain biking career. It was also well higher than our normal sea level rides of the Bay Area. I’ve never been particularly successful at dealing with thin air and consider myself about as good in elevation as a quadruple amputee is at beach volleyball.
Once we got on our bikes, PJ on another demo bike, and I on my cherished Pivot 5.7, I was hurting. The climb at Mr. Toads is both technical and sustained. Things that would never trip me up back home were forcing me to walk my bike. PJ was crushing it too, which made my pathetic efforts even more frustrating. Eventually, after an hour of self pity, we reached the summit. As my heart rate returned to earth and I eagerly sucked down gels and bars, my mood vastly improved.
I strapped on my leg pads and hit the downhill. Within seconds, all the pain and anger from the ascent was forgotten. It was pretty obvious early on, that this was a world class ride. I definitely pushed my boundaries and tackled a majority of the technical sections. However, during one such attempt, I managed to catapult through the air and land directly on my knee cap. Had I not been wearing the hard plastic armor, I would likely be out for the season. PJ, seeing that I was ok, started dying laughing. Apparently I was flaying through the air like a wounded bird, arms flapping helplessly trying to gain any kind of control. Thanks for the support PJ.
The technical sections eventually transitioned to perfectly engineered berms and turns. Towards the bottom of the ride, I started running through all the places I have ridden and struggled to come up with a more enjoyable, well rounded trail. As we reached the car-park I desperately asked PJ if we could do it again. She pointed out that it was nearly sunset and that we had to set up camp. Valid points, sometimes logic escapes me when I’m having so much fun.
After a refreshing cold beer, we continued driving north, taking in the spectacular vistas. We eventually set up at William Kent Campground, and started perfecting our s’more cooking skills. I tend to favor burning the hell out of the marshmallow, while PJ, slightly more refined, enjoys a modest warming of the sugary blob. Feeling to lazy to cook dinner, we went anorexic and just lightly snacked.
The next morning we drove to Northstar to give our climbing legs a rest and hit some pure downhill trails. Unfortunately as we were putting on the last of our gear, an attendant drove up and informed us that the resort had just transitioned into fall operating hours and were now only open on weekends. Epic Fail! Basically the same feeling of utter disappointment when you are absolutely craving ice cream only to find out the store closed 10 minutes before you got there. We reluctantly decided to shuttle another very technical ride just around the corner.
While I find mountain biking far more inclusive than surfing, this particular ride has an interesting back story. It is a “locals only” scene and borderline illegal. On the mountain bike forums, any mention of the trail results in serious harassment and anger towards the poster. Because of the hard work of local trail builders and to not upset the MTB community, I will omit the trail name and simply refer to it as Clint Eastwood.
My friend Dave had given us the scoop on Clint Eastwood and some rough directions to the trailhead. After an uncertain drive, we landed at a Forest fire lookout tower. I chatted with May, the really friendly woman working the tower and she showed me the system of tracking fires and calling in the coordinates. I was amazing by the ingenious and simple technology they used, expecting that modern GPS and laser finders would be the norm. Very intrigued, I vowed to return to chat some more and take some photos. But we were off to find Clint Eastwood.
From the lookout tower, the trailhead entrance was pretty obvious and the trail was serious. I sessioned a few parts and had to walk a few others. We eventually bottomed out the upper section and were unclear where to go. The only options were fire roads which were not suppose to be part of this ride. Had we missed a turn in our excitement during the fast flowing single track? After a bit of work and tons of second guessing, we eventually found the bottom section of Clint Eastwood.
Talk about over my head. This trail was amazing, but so far beyond what I am currently capable of riding. It has jumps that gap rivers, narrow elevated board rides and some serious drops. I hit as much as I could and took the side tracks around the big features. Even though I only participated in a fraction of the features, this was still an amazing experience. Again when we reached the bottom, I begged PJ to do it again. This time she relented.
During the second lap we were determined to link the trail and avoid fire roads. But when we took a sneaky little side trail, we found ourselves in the same situation—-riding aimlessly around on fire roads. This time we were even more lost than the first. There were so many little trails branching off, like the veins of the human body. I felt like a baby lost in a grocery store trying to find its parents. The locals went to great lengths to hide the trails, going as far as throwing down logs and broken trees where the trails intersected fire roads. Was this to keep hacks like me out, or a means of hiding the trails from Park Rangers? We eventually stumbled upon what appeared to be Clint Eastwood.
Some of the features were downright absurd. But despite being scarred out of my mind, I couldn’t have had more fun. I occasional had to e-brake when what appeared to be a modest hit turned out to be a 20 foot gap jump, but overall was obsessed with the trail. I really want to return and not only figure out the correct paths to take, but continue working on some of the sections.
I think I may have found my new favorite destination. I’ll have to return to Downieville while Tahoe is fresh in my mind, but it is a close match. Holy Crap do I love California!
Continuing the trend of getting out and exploring the great outdoors of California, this past week I headed north to the Lost Coast and more specifically the trail system of Paradise Royale. Just south of Humboldt County, Paradise Royale is a relatively new system of purpose built mountain biking single track. A land grant and an enormous amount of volunteer work and a sizable budget resulted in a phenomenal trail system that quickly has garnered both local praise as well as accolades in national publications. Rated as a “top ten must ride” in Bike Magazine I figured I was in for a beauty.
The obnoxiously gorgeous drive north from San Francisco forced me to pull out the camera and start snapping as PJ broke every speed record previously recorded on the 101. Within a scant four and a quarter hours, we pulled into the trailhead parking lot. We slathered on the sunscreen, sprayed our bodies with OFF, and filled our Camelpaks with water and energy bars and hit the trail. The trailhead map, as well as the research I had done back home revealed a pretty enormous and taxing climb lasting about four and a half miles and 1400 vertical feet. Coined Prince of Pain, I wasn’t particularly thrilled by the looming heart pumper. But I soon forgot about what lay ahead when I started hitting some of the most amazing flowing lines just minutes from the parking lot. The fun eventually ended and Prince of Pain was upon us. I raised the seat and started spinning the legs. Fortunately the trail had been built by bikers, for bikers, so unlike many other grueling climbs, there were no miserable fire roads, just a consistent leg burning pitch and variety of switchbacks.
We eventually summited, and as I crushed some energy bars and eagerly sucked down some water, I grabbed a quick seat in a hilariously placed lawn chair. The effort someone took to not only carry this folding chair to the top of the mountain, but place it permanently facing a spectacular view of the nearby pacific ocean was certainly not lost on me. Thank you for your efforts random person, I applaud you.
Feeling the fatigue of the climb dissipating and eagerness to test the laws of physics (what goes up must come down) I clipped back in, and started attacking the downhill. Jumps, huge side banks and berms made the ascent a distant memory. This was what mountain biking was all about. With a huge smile on my face, I pushed my comfort level on every turn and jump. Like every great experience, the fun seemed to end far too fast and we soon found ourselves riding back out to the car.
The camp sites at Paradise are conveniently placed next to the terrain park so after we dominated some snacks and set up our site for the evening, we headed out to the terrain park. I have absolutely no experience in terrain parks and no BMX background so I was completely over my head. But each progressive lap led to slightly more confidence and a little more air. By the end I was going huge…… I was jumping at least 5 inches. Eventually the legs complete shut down and I wasn’t able to make the four minute climb back to the starting line and knew it was time to call it a night.
Thanks to PJ, dinner was amazing and with a serving of vino in my Nalgeene I couldn’t imagine a better end to a great day. We settled into the tent early and flipped through some magazines. I can’t say this particular camping experience was as scenic or tranquil as the previous experience in Downieville. But it was hard not to laugh at the variety of music spewing from the local camp sites. We had a pack of European travelers content on jamming to some techno to one side, a country music tent to our other and some kind of mix of folk a few sites over. I felt like I was at one of those strange night clubs that feature a different genre of music in each room. Hilarious that on the Lost Coast where the closest resemblance of a town was at least 20 minutes away, my sleeping environment was far louder than the urban lifestyle I left four plus hours behind. What wasn’t shocking was the familiar smell of cannabis wafting through the air.
The next morning I decided to attack the trail again and see what kind of lap time I could record while PJ stayed behind and went for a run. The legs took a few minutes to warm up, but it was great to be out on the trail nice and early. After working pretty hard climbing Prince of Pain, I eventually bonked pretty hard by the end of the ride and was ready for lunch and the trip home.
How would I rank Paradise Royale in my all time favorite rides? The downhill was certainly fun and the accents were challenging and leg burning, I would give it 6 out of 10. It had some really fun downhill sections, but I hate any ride that forces you to climb out to the trailhead. In my view any good cross country ride should be shaped like an ^ and not a W. I don’t mind earning my downhill sections, but once I hit the summit, I want to be done with the climbing. Paradise Royale was also quite dry so it is challenging to fairly judge how tacky the trail could be, but while we were there, several of the corners were pretty sketchy. Despite my minor gripping, the drive north was well worth it, and the terrain park was a huge bonus. I will likely return to the Lost Coast and link it with some rides further north, but I still find it lagging behind Downieville and Annadel in terms of overall California rides.
I am quite embarrassed by my lack of sailing knowledge. Son to an obsessed sailing father, and raised in one of the top sailing destinations in all of the States, I always found sailing a little slow for my tastes. This past weekend was the America’s Cup World Series, basically a qualifying event for next years huge race to be held in the fall.
San Francisco may offer the most spectacular location for an America’s Cup. Scenic backgrounds and numerous vantage points make the Bay seem almost designed for the event. Spectators are in for quite a show.
These boats are entirely out of control. Watching these Catamarangs’s accelerate after tacking around the buoys is beyond comprehensible. They represent more race car than sail boat by how fast they get to full speed. This will be an amazing event to watch. Pretty pumped for 2013.
There are magical destinations you dream about as a child: Disneyland….The North Pole… Toys R’Us. I was prohibited from Toys’R Us, and Disneyland was a destination that I hardly remember as a 3 year old. Fortunately, as I have become obssessed with outdoor sports, new and exciting destinations have come to my attention. In the mountain biking community, you hear about Whistler, New Zealand and Downieville with the same fervor as children on the playground speak of Disney and toy stores.
This past spring, I was fortunate enough to check out New Zealand in a camper van and on my mountain bike. It was not a disappointment. After living in California for nearly 5 years, I have come to realize that at every opportunity, I seem to get on a plane and travel to some far off destination for adventure and great times. And while this will never change, I decided I needed to check out some of the amazing opportunities within the state before I pull out my passport again.
With a license in hand, for my first “Stay-cation,” I decided to do a quick camping trip to Downieville. Seriously the town is called “Down”-ieville. I don’t know if the town was named after it became a hot mountain bike destination, or if it was forced to become a hot mountain bike destination just to live up to its descriptive name. Either way Downieville hosts some pretty epic riding. Monday night PJ and I loaded up the Subaru with bikes, food, and camping gear and started the four hour journey east.
We left the usual Bay Area rides in our rear mirror in our journey to find a little more downhill terrain. Most of the riding around San Francisco tends to be more xc (cross country), which consist of a mix of downhill and climbing with a few technical sections mixed in. Downieville is certainly geared more towards the down than the up. In a town of 300 people, life revolves around downhill mountain biking. There are two bike shops and a constant flow of shuttle vans carting eager riders and their bikes to the summit trailhead. Sure you can add on some additional climbing to round out the ride, which we did, but if you are in search of true descent, Downieville is hard to beat.
Downieville is also far more technical than anything I do around the Bay Area. While competent on a bike, I am far from proficient, so when several friends suggested I buy some protection (knee, shin and elbow pads) I thought I might be over my head. On our first shuttle ride up the mountain we made friends with Chip, an unassuming and mild mannered guy in his forties, prepping for the big Downieville Classic. We asked Chip if he wanted to join us for the first ride. He accepted. I figured we had just added on an anchor who would slow us down for the entire ride.
About 30 seconds in, I was literally eating his dust. This guy could rip it. When I eventually came around a corner and saw Chip way up ahead patiently waiting, I had to smile. Chip’s the kind of guy you love to have around, friendly, warm, smart, fun, and so modest. Turns out he was previously a professional motocross racer. He has since moved on to become a civil and mechanical engineer and a father of three. Just knowing that he has a background in racing made my ego recover slightly from getting absolutely toasted by the guy. After completing one of the more technical sections, where I worked hard to hit the right lines, Chip passively mentioned that he and his wife had ridden Downieville on a Tandem Mountain bike 15 years ago. This guy was awesome for so many reasons.
We cruised back to the small village of Downieville, Chip peeled off to go be a husband and father while PJ and I shuttled back up for round two. I crushed an obnoxiously overstuffed PB&J sandwich, (just the way I like it) hoping to replenish the calories we burned from the previous run. A check of my watch revealed that somehow going “downhill” had resulted in 2200 calories burnt, which made me feel better about the bars, bananas and sandwiches I was shoving down my throat.
I hadn’t ever found my legs on the first lap, lagging behind in several areas. For some strange reason during the second lap, I felt much stronger than the first. Possibly it was a new confidence in the lines and knowledge that I could actually survive the terrain, or perhaps it was simply a sugar high from nearly a pound of jelly. Either way, the afternoon ride was just as exhilarating and amazing as the morning.
As we finished round two, we rolled past Chip and his wife Judy just outside of town. After chatting a bit more, they generously offered us a room and a shower at their rented house. Such warm and amazing people. Under normal circumstances I would have certainly taken them up, but PJ and I were both really excited by the opportunity to camp out under the full moon.
We sluggishly pedaled the last few hundred yards into town, ripping off the sweaty and dusty clothing, I rushed the river and jumped in before I could realize how cold it was. Despite the frigid temperatures, the water felt absolutely refreshing. Would I be lingering and splashing about aimlessly? Absolutely not, I had no interest in hypothermia, but for a quick dip and rinse, it was perfect.
One of my mates had told me about a great camping spot high on the ridge, well past all the other camping grounds. We drove past the more established grounds and PJ was getting a bit antsy. She had passed on the two milkshakes I had dominated in town and she was a bit hungry. I stubbornly mandated that we press on ’til we found the perfect camping spot. We passed a sign that suggested “cars not recommended” but the icon was of more of a 1980′s convertible so I conveniently read it as “sports cars” not recommend. Besides If I had successfully taken a mustang off-roading, there was no way that a few bumps were going to get in my way in an actual SUV.
We eventually came to an amazing spot, well off the beaten track. It was absolutely perfect. Huge vistas overlooking a valley below, and a beautiful sunset reminded me of why I need to do this kind of thing more often. I set up the tent while PJ prepped the most amazing meal I have had while camping. The setting was perfect and as the last of the sun faded, a full moon filled the sky and made our headlamps nearly irrelevant. With no smart phones or computers to distract, I went to bed early.
“Wake up.” Pj whispered as she anxiously jabbed me in the ribs. “Wake up, do you hear that?” I awoke in a fright not exactly sure where I was and tried to listen over my jacked up heart rate. An enormous animal was chomping on something right outside our tent and another large animal was approaching. We slowly unzipped our tent hoping to identify what would soon be eating us. The unnatural noise of the zipper sent the large and approaching animal scurrying- sounded like a deer or buck. Pheww! But there was still the unidentified animal right outside our tent. Using the illumination of the moon, I attempted to i.d. the animal that would soon cause the writing of my obituary. But I saw nothing….
Eventually I saw movement. A field mouse? Seriously? No way…it couldn’t be. But sure enough, as the mouse started chomping on a dead log a few feet from our tent, I realized I may survive this night after all.
The morning sun eventually blasted us awake. We packed up and headed to the trail-head. It was pretty awesome to wake up on a mountain ridge, have breakfast and be just minutes from some of the best mountain biking in the world.
After two unforgettable days of riding in Downieville, I was reminded of the luxury of living in California. There are so many great things to do within such a small radius of San Francisco, a passport and plane ticket aren’t required to have fun. However, on my final shuttle ride, I started chatting with a professional racer from France. He was in town for the upcoming race and had been all over the world riding. “Which is your favorite” I eagerly asked? Without any hesitation he said the following: “Bolivia!”
Time to brush up on my spanish. You know where I am off to next:)
My Garmin watch combined with Strava's online software allows for tracking and analysis of your rides. This is both awesome and devastating at the same time. For example, my top speed of 28.5 mph felt completely out of control and as fast as humanly possible. Yet when I get home and compare my ride to others, such as 8 time Downieville Champion Mark Weir who recorded a top speed of 42 mph, I want to hide under a rock and cry. I can't even image how fast that must feel.
While math has never been a strength of mine, I can occasionally read a graph. And to anyone that likes downhill sports, this statistical representation is pretty ideal.