I'm Not Just A Passenger

My husband and I participate in the motorsport of rally. If you've ever tried having a conversation with someone unfamiliar with rally, it's difficult to get them to understand what it is that we do. But the one thing everyone gets is that my husband is a driver. But no one seems to comprehend what my purpose is. They all mistakenly think I am just along for the ride. Sitting casually in the right seat, just there for fun. So let me clear the air. I'll begin by explaining the sport a bit... 
Rally is a form of racing that occurs on closed roads, most often out in the middle of nowhere. These roads are generally ORV trails, logging routes, two tracks, or other gravel paths, not especially used for motor vehicles. (There are also tarmac rallies, which occur on paved roads, but we only had one of those here in America, and as of this year, that one is gone.) 
In each rally, there are multiple stages, with transits in between. These stages are X number of miles long, with various obstacles along the way. Think trees, boulders, water crossings, jumps, cliffs, and anything else Mother Nature feels like adding. We race in all weather conditions. Rain, snow, ice, etc. At the start of each stage, the cars line up and are released on one minute intervals. This interval ideally keeps the cars out of each others way, but it is very common to catch and pass other cars on stage. 
The point is to finish each stage with the fastest time, and without penalties. At the start and finish of each stage, there are Time Controls. You must arrive to each arrival control on your exact minute. Not early, and not late. If you are not on your minute, you get a penalty, which results in a deduction of time. 
Those penalties can cost you the race, regardless of how fast you were, so it's crucial to be on the ball. 
Penalties can also be given for speeding on transits, negative behaviors from you or any member of your team/crew, and pretty much anything else the officials don't approve of. 
Rally is a dangerous sport, and safety is something that is taken very seriously. From protective gear, to required equipment in the car. 
Our cars are fitted with pretty extreme roll cages, race seats, 5 point harnesses, etc. Each driver and codriver are required to wear helmets, HANS devices, and fire suits. Cars are stocked with fire extinguishers and first aid kits as well, because during a rally, you are the first responders. This means that if you come across a car off during a hot stage, you are required to stop and administer first aid, and begin the process of getting medical help to the people in that car. 
Ok, so now that you have an idea of how the sport works, let me get to the point of this article. As I said in the beginning, my husband is the driver. He does the driving. That makes sense, right? So what is my job? I'm the codriver, also known as the navigator. In rally, there are always two people in the car. The codriver/navigator's job is very different from the driver's.
Our job begins days or weeks prior to the event. From researching the race (watching videos, studying old notes, etc.) to securing lodging, making schedules, coordinating the team/crew, and making sure that all the required paperwork is ready to go, and more. Once we arrive to the event, we are given two books. A Road Book, and a Stage Notes book. Upon receiving these, we immediately get to work. 

Now each codriver has their own system for prepping their books. I like to tab each stage with a color, and coordinate that color and number to the transit for the stage in the Road Book. I also pour over every page, looking for things that I think needs highlighted. (Cautions, hairpin turns, questionable crossings, etc.) It sounds silly, but when you are dealing with time, every second counts, so you need to be able to access the information as quickly and easily as possible. 
Now, each of these two books is written in its own language of sorts. Road Books are done in Tulips. They look like this:

These tell you how to get from stage to stage, from stages to services, etc. Your job as a codriver is to make sure that your driver gets to where your car needs to be at the exact right minute. (Remember, no penalties.) As soon as you cross the finish line of a stage, you have to complete a time card, and then grab this book and get where you're going. There's very little downtime.
Once you arrive to your stage (hopefully on time) the codriver gets out the Stage Notes book. These are written in Jemba note form. That looks like this:

All of the information you should need to know when running each stage is in these notes. From when to turn, how sharp the turn, to crests, jumps, possible obstacles, and more. The codriver's job is to read these notes to the driver while racing, so that they can drive the road, even when they can't see it. When you're going 100 mph through the woods, a misread note could mean you drive off a cliff or into a tree. Drivers and their codrivers share an immense bond of trust in one another, and their abilities to do their jobs well. Each position is crucial to your success in rally. 
Before we ran our first event, I thought I had an idea of what being a codriver consisted of. But I was definitely not prepared for the amount of time, energy, and pressure that go into doing it. I'm still in the very early stages of learning how to do this job and do it well, but I have mad respect for the seasoned veterans of the right seat, and how easy they make it look.
As codrivers, we know that the drivers get all the glory, and we're just fine with that. In fact, most of us believe they deserve it.  But the next time you think that codrivers are just "along for the ride".... please think again. 



***If you're interested in following our rally adventures, please check out our Facebook page Team Finn.
And follow us on Twitter @TeenaMarieFinn and @SubieDan and Instagram @Team_Finn_Rally 
As always, "Have Fun and Try Not to Suck" --Team Finn 

Sandblast Rally: Team Finn's Debut

From the moment Dan and I decided to carry on our family dream of building and racing a rally car, I knew it would be an adventure. From the creative budgeting, to romantic weekends spent in a cold garage, it's been interesting to say the least.
You see, the co-driver seat was never intended to be mine. Our son, Zachary, was always supposed to navigate. After his passing, it fell to me. After all, Team Finn only consisted of three members. I owed it to him, and to Dan, to step up and do my best. But it was a bittersweet acceptance. As much as I loved riding shotgun on this, I would have much preferred to be cheering for my two favorite guys. Unfortunately, that wasn't the path we were sent down. So we carried on as best we could, with Zach watching over us. A rally guardian angel, if you will. 
Sandblast Rally was always in our top choices for our first event. It was the first stage rally we ever attended (as crew) so it held a special place for us. The conditions seemed great for first timers as well. And so it was decided. 
After completing all the requirements to race (physicals, licenses, logbooks, etc.) we were on our way. 
Since South Carolina is roughly a 12 hour drive from Michigan, we decided to leave a day early, just in case, and hit the road Wednesday morning. That ended up being a very wise decision, since Thursday brought brutal winter weather to nearly every state along our route. That would have been sketchy for us with a 2WD tow vehicle. Plus, it gave us an extra day to prepare, so as not to feel rushed. 
We arrived in Cheraw around noon on Thursday. Shortly after, we headed over to rally headquarters to give them a hand setting up registration. By Thursday evening, I held in my hand my first official set of stage notes. 

These were to become my Bibles for the weekend. I would study them, and treat them with due reverence. If you're not familiar with rally notes, let me explain. In rally, each car has the driver (his job is pretty obvious) and a co-driver. The co-driver (or navigator) has to tell the driver what to to, where to go, and more. You are given a book of Stage Notes, which you read during the race to direct the driver of what is ahead. Turns, cautions, jumps, etc. These are written in what I refer to as Rally Hieroglyphics, but are actually called Jemba notes. They look like this:

The second and smaller book is a Road Book. In this, you have your transits. Directions guiding you from stage to stage, to services, and eventually, to your finish location. This is crucial. You have a limited time to arrive to your destination, and getting lost on transit could cost you penalties, which can result in poor finishes overall. So you have to pay close attention to your Road Book. This book is written in Tulips. No, not the flower. Tulips are a form of directions that are very basic. They look like this:

You're told your mileage, the arrow points the direction, and you are given the road name, or a point of reference. Easy peasy, right? 
So Friday began with a Novice Orientation class, where you're taught the basics of what you need to know. Safety, rules, and so on. After that, we headed straight to Scrutineering (otherwise known as Tech) to have the car and our gear looked over to ensure it met all of the requirements. We passed that, and off we went to Shakedown. Shakedown is essentially a small section of road that is similar in conditions to what you will find once on stage. It gives teams the opportunity to test the car and make any last minute tweaks or changes to suspension, tires, or whatever else. For us, it was our first time in real stage conditions. Full safety gear on, reading notes, and running at stage paces. 

Team Finn at Shakedown. Photo courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.

It felt good. Dan ran at what I would call a less than "taking it easy" pace, but we had no issues, and the notes were spot on. We made two passes, took a break, and intended on running more, but time ran out before we could. From Shakedown, we drove into downtown Chesterfield for Friday night Parc Expose. This is essentially a car show. All the competitors park the cars, hang out, and talk to locals, fans, and other competitors. After a couple hours of this, we headed to dinner (thanks Matt) before we went back to the hotel for some last minute Stage Note work and a good nights sleep before the big day.
Saturday morning brought sunshine and better weather. We suited up, and headed back into Chesterfield for more Parc Expose and a drivers meeting before the start.

At this point, I was feeling nervous, but less so than I expected. Dan was just fine. (Go figure.) After lots of laughs, some last minute note changes (thanks Liz!) and hugs from our crew and friends, we hopped in the car and lined up. 
The countdown had begun. This was it.... we were really doing this. I sent a little silent message to our guardian angel, and in no time we were off. 
First 2 stages went as smoothly as they could have. Dan was flawless, and I was not quite flawless, but finding my rhythm. After Stage 2, we headed in for our first service. After removing a child's sandbox from our wheels, hitting the bathrooms, and chatting with our awesome crew, we headed back out for Stage 3. Aside from a close call with a tree, we were still doing well, and putting in great stage times. By Stage 4, Dan was driving like an old pro. I still wasn't feeling super confident in my note reading, but he told me I was doing great, which helped. After Stage 4, we headed in for a quick fuel only service, and were back out to Stage 5. At the start of Stage 5, we encountered some delays, due to a biker having gone down and being injured. This shook me a bit, especially since, at the time, no one had much information on how he was doing. This stage was also the one that had received a substantial route change, and we had very little notes for that portion. We had already run it from one direction (changes had been at the end) but this was the reverse, which put the note changes at the beginning, and could potentially mess me up for the remainder of the stage. After the replacement ambulance arrived, the cars were back on stage. Dan did great, but the route changes definitely made me stumble. It took me a bit to get back on track, and to say the least, I was flustered. I was grateful to be headed back in for a long service to try to shake off my frustration. After a quick bite to eat, another sandbox removal, and some socializing, we headed back out for Stage 6. This stage was a complete fail for me. I had a few pages stick together in my book (damn sweaty hands) and it took me nearly to the end of the stage to get back on track. Add to that the fact that the sun was at the "You don't need to see right now." point of sunset, and Dan drove that stage blind on all counts. I have no idea how he managed to keep us on course, but I clearly owe him massive sexual favors for that one. 

On stage photo of Team Finn, courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.

 At this point, I'm very frustrated with myself. Dan (bless his heart) kept telling me it was fine, and was very encouraging, but I knew better. I had been less than stellar for the previous two stages. We pulled into the time control for the final stage, and encountered another delay. This gave us some time to allow the sun to set, and for us to chat with other competitors. There were many DNFs (did not finish) at this point. Many of them seasoned racers. With my confidence dwindling, and us with only one stage left to go, I was feeling some pressure. I needed to get my shit together on this one. This stage was filled with tight turns, and one bad note or mistake could cost us the whole race. We had come into this with only one major goal, and that was just to finish. We were so close. Delay over, and cars were back in line. I sent yet another silent message out to Zach to keep an eye on us, and I took a deep breath and tried to get out of my own head. The final stage was insane. It got dark FAST, and we quickly learned our one small light bar was not enough. Dan was flying, and even though my notes were on, we still came into a "dip" way too hot, sending the front end in HARD and launching us into the air. The gravel that rained down seemed to be in slow motion as we waited to see smoke from a busted radiator and front end. In what felt like forever, but was probably less than 3 seconds, Dan assessed our damage (or lack thereof) and we were back at it. After passing a fellow competitor on stage, we crossed the final finish. The emotions hit me like a train at full speed. I managed to hold it together (mostly) long enough to transit to our finish, but when we pulled in for the final time control and saw our crew & friends standing there cheering for us with huge smiles.... I lost it. That moment will forever be ingrained in my memory. 
(I wish I had held it together just a few moments longer though, because unfortunately, that last time control cost us big time. Some false information and our lack of experience ended up costing us a 4 minute penalty, as I discovered later on. But I don't want to get into that. I'm still a little salty about it.)
We had finished. We achieved what we had set out to do, and I was beyond thrilled. I couldn't stop the tears. My crew (and some others) engulfed me in a huge group hug and it was at that moment that I knew we had made Zach proud. It's an overwhelming feeling that I cannot describe. Bittersweet, raw emotion. 
After the awards dinner, we headed back to our hotel, high on adrenaline and feeling a little bit like rock stars. The next morning, we loaded up and went to lunch with our crew, before hitting the road for the long haul back home. 

My favorite picture from the weekend, with our AMAZING crew.  Courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.

It's now Tuesday. The rally high is gone, and the rally hangover is fading, and yet, it all still feels a little unreal to me. Like it was all a dream, and I'm still waiting to wake up at any moment. I still can't believe that we did it. When we began this journey, it felt nearly impossible. Like one of those bucket list items that you hope happens, but know might never be accomplished. But we did it. The road that brought us to this point was by far more difficult and rough than any rally stage you could throw at us. We fought our way back from the edge of despair, and we made Zach's dream a reality. And this is just the beginning.... 

Some Thoughts on the Future of Rally in America

The countdown is on in the rally community for January 1, 2015, when we will hopefully find out what all the hype over the USRA action really means. To say it's been confusing and a giant rumor starter would be an understatement, and the lack of response by Rally America to questions and concerns is frustrating to say the least. 
As a fan, crew member, and soon to be competitor in stage rally, I must say that I am a bit nervous about what this all means for the sport that I love. Like most of us, I'm not 100% thrilled with the way the sport is run, and would be happy to see some changes made that benefit smaller teams like ours. The constant catering by Rally America to the big names (cough, Subaru, cough) while almost entirely ignoring the small budget regional teams has left a bad taste in my mouth. Especially considering that in the past year, nearly all of the major competition and excitement has come from non factory backed teams, most of them competing at the regional level. Here in America, rally doesn't have the following that it does in the rest of the world. But it DOES have a following. And a loyal one at that. With the growth of rallycross, and the soon to be returning SCCA rally sprints, I think we will see a new wave of interest in the very near future as well. Rally isn't dead. Far from it. But it is getting increasingly more difficult to be a competitor and even a fan. So how can we fix that? What can we do to make the sport we love more available? 
The most obvious answer is to make entry fees cheaper. But is that possible? Rallies aren't free to run, and while I don't know the ins and outs of where the finances go, I don't think anyone is getting rich off of entry fees. (Although Anders at NASA Rally Sport DOES seem to have quite a nice hat collection... maybe we need to look into that.) But... what is the money going towards? Could it be used better? Or could some of that money be made in more creative ways? For example, at STPR in Pennsylvania, there is the super special event at the end of the rally, and spectators are charged a small fee to watch the teams compete in a rallycross type race. In my experience, that seems to get a pretty good draw. Would something like that be possible at all events? Or go even a step further, and for a larger fee, allow fans to enter their own cars, and compete against the drivers they admire. (An idea I saw suggested by a fan recently, that I think is rather brilliant.) Short ride alongs are another option. Anything that allows the fans to get closer and more involved is always going to help boost the sport. Let's start thinking outside the box. Maybe some of the bigger teams could hold raffles, and the winner could be an honorary crew member for the day. What about getting the local communities, who are hosting the races, more involved? A short parade ending at Parc Expose? Local businesses could pay to be in it, or teams could charge a small fee to drape banners or decorate their cars with the names of local shops, restaurants, etc. More often than not, the towns hosting these events have little to no knowledge of the sport, which leads to frustration and negative actions. (Holding up stages, complaints, etc.) If we made more of an effort to get them involved, who knows what kind of a difference it could make. 
Another issue I think needs to be addressed is media. Let's face it, we live in a media based world. It's never going to be easy to convince people to drive out into the woods, hike a few miles in the rain or snow, to watch a very small section of road, while one car every minute or two drives by. Even typing it is boring me. So how do we get them to watch? The obvious answer is through TV and videos. Rally America had an awesome opportunity with NBC Sports this past year, and they blew it. Aside from the fact that the episodes were essentially infomercials for Ford and Subaru, they also did a piss poor marketing job. No advertising, no internet availability, they even aired one event DURING another event. Seriously, guys? Get your heads out of your asses. I could go on forever about how disappointing that whole deal was, but I won't. Instead, I'll say this:
If FY Racing can get 20,000+ views on a YouTube video, there is most definitely a market for it. Maybe shooting for NBC Sports was too big of a jump. So let's start smaller. Nearly every team has a YouTube channel. Within hours of a race, there is countless fan and competitor footage floating around. Why not follow the likes of something like TheSmokingTire or /DRIVE and create small episodes for YouTube? Allow teams, fans, and photographers to submit their footage from each event. Or what about Netflix or HULU, or any internet based streaming company? Would it be possible to team up with them? Somehow we have to be able to get coverage to more people. I can't tell you how many non rally folks I have made watch 'Easier Said Than Done' who became instant fans. Those same people would never, ever take a weekend off to go sit in the woods and stare at 50 feet of gravel for an hour. Hell, I don't even want to spectate, and I AM a rally fan. But I'll be damned if I miss the latest FY, BRAKIM, or Subaru Launch Control video. Why? Because I can watch it without pants on, in my living room, and I can get a much better idea of the sport. If NASCAR only allowed fans to watch one turn, how many people do you think would show up to watch? The only way for fans to really see what goes on in a rally is through video. But guess what? Once they've seen the videos, they'll want more. So they'll come to events, they'll want to meet the drivers, they'll want to build cars and BECOME drivers. That is how a sport grows. Media is the gateway drug for the future addicts of rally.
We also need to start acknowledging that there are more than 3 teams in the sport. NASA Rally Sport does a great job of this, and Rally America should take a cue from them. Every single team paid to be there, and they deserve some recognition. It shouldn't be any harder to find times for small, regional teams than it is to find them for the big, national teams. If the only drivers people ever hear about and see are Travis, Ken, and David, then what happens when they quit showing up to races? Encourage fans to get to know their local drivers, interview the guy that worked two jobs to build his own car, share the stories of the other teams that aren't getting paid to be there. Let the fans know that rally is accessible to everyone, not just a few.
These are just a few of the things that I personally hope to see changed for the better in the new year. I love rally, and I'm excited to be a part of it, and I want everyone to know what an incredible sport it is. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed, as I know many others are as well, to see what happens with the announcements tomorrow.
Here's to keeping it dirty, my friends. 

(Thank you to Images by Achilyse for the original action shot used to make this.)

The Love of a Father

Father's Day is coming up this weekend. Yet another painful time for grieving parents...
I know how much it hurts Dan to see and hear all the commercials and reminders. I know that the only gift he could ever want is one that he will never, ever receive. Having his son back.
Our son took special pride in finding his dad the best gift every year. He spent weeks and sometimes months deciding on the perfect present. How he managed to wait until the actual day, I'll never know, since his excitement was palpable. But wait he did. And then on Father's Day, he would proudly hand that gift over, and watch with wide eyes as his dad opened it. I watched the change from youthful exuberance, to genuine pride as Zach grew older, and began making the purchases with his own money. And I saw the joy and respect in Dan's eyes, as he examined his treasures. It wasn't just about the gifts. It was about seeing his son grow into a caring, selfless, generous young man. It was about knowing that he beat the odds. That after years of hearing all the negative talk about the children of teenage parents, here was this amazing kid that he had raised. An honor roll student. A hard working, kind hearted, respectful individual. A funny, sweet, honest, and compassionate soul. THAT was the best gift of all.
And the most bittersweet...
Zach left us at the tender age of 18. We were just starting to see glimpses of the man he would become. We'll always wonder who he would be today. We'll mourn for not only the loss of our child, but also the man he could have been. The husband, the father, the grandfather, the friend.
But Zach also left behind a legacy. One of kindness. One of generosity. One of humor and light. And that will always remain. No tragic accident could ever steal that. The memories he made, and the happiness he created cannot ever be taken away.
And neither can the love of a father.
When we lost Zach, we lost a part of ourselves that we can never get back. That is a wound that time can never heal. But we also found strength we never knew we had. And an inspiration in the light of the brightest soul to ever have graced this world. And with that inspiration, a father is proving his love. He is carrying on a dream that he shared with his son. Team Finn exists because of that. The courage and tenacity to keep moving forward is the greatest sign of love I've ever seen.
This Father's Day, I know Zach will be smiling with pride as he sees what his dad has accomplished. I know that my son's spirit lives on in everyone who ever knew him, but it is by far the strongest in the man who shares his eyes, and his smile. In the man who is determined to show his son that he will never forget, and never give up. In the father who will love his son for all eternity.  
That spirit, that light. THAT is Zach's gift to his dad. This year... and always.

(Father & son)

Why We Do What We Do

We are a motorsport family. My husband, Dan, comes from a long line of auto enthusiast men, and he passed that passion on to our son. Some of Zach's earliest memories were of helping his Dad out in the garage. Like most young men, that passion increased the older he got. Once he received his license, it was all downhill. I don't think the keys were in his hand yet, and he was making big plans for his car, and the future.
Many nights and weekends were spent in and under vehicles for my boys. The garage was our family playground. We probably spent more time there and in cars together, than anywhere else. It was while working on cars that we had most of life's big discussions. Sex, drugs, relationships, responsibility, and more. Wrenching on cars was more than just a hobby. It was a character building experience. It was a way for us to all bond. It was something we loved doing together. Our personal cars were our canvases. The way we showed the world who we were, and what made us happy. Dan was thrilled to see his son share in that love, and had begun teaching Zach the skills he would need to continue the tradition. Watching my boys working side by side, talking, laughing, and creating something together, warmed my heart like nothing else. Seeing the pride and smiles on their faces when they finished a project was a sight I never tired of.
We spent many hours discussing future plans, and my guys had some pretty grand ideas. Team Finn was on its way to doing some big things in motorsports. Or so we thought... 
Then every parent's worst nightmare happened. A knock on the door from a police officer informing us that our son had been in an accident and we needed to go to the hospital immediately.
From the moment we stepped into that hospital room, we knew nothing would ever be the same again.
We lost our only child. And with him, all of our plans and dreams of the future. We were utterly and completely lost.
What most people don't understand is that when your child dies, you die with them. Your shattered heart still beats, but it does so reluctantly. You survive on instinct alone.
We lost our son in a car accident. He wasn't drunk, driving recklessly, or speeding. He wasn't doing anything dangerous. It didn't involve any other vehicles, and it could have happened to anyone.
For a long time, it was impossible to think about doing anything in motorsports again. Even though the car wasn't to blame for Zach's accident, it was still connected. Every car became a reminder of the broken wreckage that held our child. It's difficult to separate those things. You can't just shut off a lifetime's worth of passion for something, but if anything comes close to hitting the off switch, that was it.
So we struggled. We tried to keep going, and we looked for things to be passionate about. But nothing worked.
Eventually, it became clear that the place we felt the deepest connection to our son was in the car. There was no denying it any longer. So after many long talks, and internal battles, we knew what we had to do. We had to carry on Team Finn's legacy. And we had to do it for Zach. Each breath we take now is for our son. Each laugh, each smile, each step forward, is for him. His spirit lives on in us, and we owe it to him to make his dreams a reality.
That began with rallycross. It was a way to figure out if we could do this. If we could carry on without Zach. It hasn't been easy, that's for sure. But when we are in the car, doing what we love to do, we feel him there. We know he is laughing and having a great time right along with us.
As Team Finn makes progress towards bigger and better things, it is a bittersweet journey. When we finally make it to stage rally, and I'm sitting in that co-driver seat, I'll know that it should be Zach there. That I'm just a place filler for him. With every moment of excitement and joy, there will be an equal moment of sadness and heartbreak for the missing member of Team Finn.
Dan & Zach had aspirations of entering numerous types of events. From rallies and hill climbs, to 24 hour races, like LeMons and ChumpCar. They wanted to experience as many varieties of motorsport as they could. Team Finn still hopes to accomplish those goals. Our team roles may have changed, but our destination is still the same.
So why do we do this when we know how great the risks are, even better than most?
Because we have to. We owe it to Zach, and we owe it to ourselves to keep these dreams alive. Each step we take towards making that happen is a step closer to our son. It makes us feel that much more connected to him, and for that.... we would go to the ends of the Earth.
If it takes every last penny we have, and every breath left in our bodies, we will see this through. Team Finn may be short one member, but we ride on. And his spirit and soul ride with us.
The road may not always be smooth, but we know one thing.... it leads us to our son, so we will follow it to the end...

With Thanks, from Team Finn

 

Over 15 years ago, I met an incredible man named Dan. I fell in love with him almost immediately. As if that wasn't enough of a package, he came with an adorable miniature version of himself, named Zach, and the two of them took over my heart. I didn't realize that my life had been missing anything up until that point, but the sense of absolute completeness that they brought me made it very clear that I had indeed had a void. The three of us were an instant family. Without question or hesitation. And as the years passed, we only grew closer and more connected. We started referring to ourselves as a team. Team Finn we would say. And like any good team, we all had our positions and we always had each other's backs. Always. Our little team/family was perfect. We loved and supported one another through everything, and like any good team, we started making plans for our future. One of those plans was to build a stage rally car. Dan would be the driver, Zach, the co-driver. And me, I was to be the team manager, part time crew chief, and head cheerleader.

As Zach grew older, started driving, and bought his first Subaru, this dream suddenly became more and more real. And in June of 2012, when he graduated from high school, it became even more real. He could go to college anywhere, so we could travel to races without risking his education.

 It all seemed so perfect.

Until August 3, 2012.

That evening, while driving with his friends to a car event, Zach was involved in an accident. His two friends walked away. Unfortunately, he did not. On August 4, 2012, he passed away from his injuries.

Team Finn was changed forever.

Dan & I had lost our son, and our way. Life no longer had any meaning. For months, we floated along, not caring about anything. Our passion for cars was still there, but after what happened, it was greatly diminished and we thought Team Finn's dreams were over for good.

But as he always was in life, Zachary was once again our inspiration.

We knew that even though we didn't care if we went on, that it would matter to our son. We channeled his positive attitude and zest for life and we struggled to find our way on this new path. We made friends with a local rally team, and volunteered with them at a stage rally event. We also entered local rally cross competitions and found some happiness once again behind the wheel. We started slowly building the car more and more for rally, and decided that Team Finn would carry on in Zach's memory. That even though I will be taking his place in the passenger seat, he will ALWAYS be our co-driver. He rides with us in spirit, and in our hearts.

When Zach was in high school, he designed a logo for our team. A family crest of sorts.

We now rock this logo on all of our vehicles, among other things. It is a symbol that represents not just our family, but a passion and love for life that was Zachary's legacy. Team Finn lives on in Dan and I every single day. The lessons our son taught, and continues to teach us, give us the strength and guidance we need to continue to pursue our dream.

Since Zach's passing, we have received support and love from many unexpected places, and one of those is the car community. From friends and loved ones, to strangers who never got the chance to meet our son, we have seen compassion and sympathy. Many people have asked us for Team Finn stickers since we started doing this, and we are beyond touched by the gesture. To see this logo on cars, helmets and more reminds us that Team Finn is still here and still going strong. It reaffirms that we made the right choice to continue on in our son's memory. But more than anything it makes us love and appreciate those of you supporting us in our dream, and cheering us on. We know Zach is smiling down on each and every one of you...