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When did I go from racing karts to racing cars? I did some autocross at 20, driving my father's early 1980's Mazda GLC. 1988 saw me race a kart at Watkins Glen, then go to the 5-day Skip Barber Racing School at Sebring, FL, driving Formula Fords. When I got my engineering degree in 1987, people began asking me to help with their racing cars.

Ken Anderson, a man who worked with my father, raced 2-stroke Formula 500 cars in the Sports Car Club of America. My father told Ken about my experiences racing 2-stroke karts, building parts and body pieces. He also told him how we would hang out in the garage at Watkins Glen after F1 and sports car races, talking with the teams for hours on end. I bought race used F1 parts from F1 champions, team shirts and other souvenirs.

When Ken asked me to help him, I eagerly accepted. I was tasked with coaching Ken how to drive his car faster. Here I was, a young guy in his 20s, teaching a man in his 50s, how to drive faster.

"Ken," I said, "the key to driving a 2-stroke vehicle with a centrifugal clutch is you need to keep the engine at nearly full speed through the corner to get a fast exit." Ken looked at me with huge wide eyes, like I was crazy. Ken asked with doubt, "So how exactly do I do that?" Having driven this way for years, I said with confidence, "You are on the gas full speed on the straight. Stay on the racing line through the corner, find your braking point, push the brake until it grabs, then push hard. Keep your foot on the gas, reduce to 3/4 throttle to keep the rpms up. Halfway through the corner, ease off the brake and go to full throttle. When you get off the brake totally, you should slingshot down the next straight." Ken asked innocently, "What happens if I let off the gas completely? That is what I do in a car with a transmission, that is how I am used to driving."

I replied simply, "Your lap times now are the result of letting off the gas before the corner, making you start races at the back of the pack. If you learn to drive how I told you, you will be a front runner."

Halfway through the race season, Ken was running at the front of the pack. One day after a race, Ken asked, "Joe, this 12-year-old race car doesn't have much life left in it. Do you think you could design and build me a new car?" I thought a minute, as wonderful race car design solutions popped into my brain, "Ken, I just thought of the most awesome chassis design, tubes of course, per the rulebook. I can use an innovative suspension I designed in college class, to keep the tires planted on the pavement. I will use a combination of aluminum sheet, Kevlar and fiberglass for the body. I know you will be running at the front of the pack!"

Ken went on for several years, competing and going to the SCCA championship run-offs, thanks to my car design. I continued helping Ken and a couple other small budget teams over a 20-year span, with success a common occurrence.

VROOOM! Klunk. Vroooooom! Klunk. Vroooooom! Klunk. Vroooooom! I yelled, "Go faster, Daddy!", then he did, as we wound our way on curvy roads, on our 2 hour trip to the racetrack, just outside of the town of Watkins Glen, NY. The day was Sunday, October 8, 1972. We were on our way to go watch the USGP for F1 cars, riding in Mom's MGB-GT. It was dark blue with wire wheels. Dad drove it more than Mom did and today was going to be a very special day. Dad asked me, "Joseph, can you imagine cars racing without bumpers?" I replied mystified, "No?" As an 8-year-old,  I couldn't think of anything else to say and thought about cars without bumpers until we got to the track. We arrived and bought two tickets at the gate. Dad said to the ticket agent, "Two tickets please, one adult and one child. We would also like to get a race program, too." Dad paid then we drove to a grassy field to park. He held my ticket in his hand, which had the shape of the track on it. "Joseph," Dad pointed out, "here is the track shape, but they added a mile of new track where we will watch." He took a blue ink pen and drew the added track on the ticket, then handed it to me. We grabbed a blanket and our lunch, then walked a short distance to a hill overlooking the new part of the track, called the anvil, also known as the boot. We spread out the blanket, then sat down to have lunch between turns 7 and 8. Dad said, "I packed some turkey sandwiches, grapes, and two thermoses with water. Let's eat before the race starts." I replied, "OK, I'm hungry, I want to gobble up my sandwich." My dad laughed at my humor. We finished eating, then there was the sound of music to a race fan's ears. "VROOAAROOOOM! Klunk! VVRROOAROOOM! Klunk! Klunk! VVRROOARrr! Klunk! ROAR! Klunk! ROAR! Klunk!" The cars made the loudest sounds I had ever heard in my life! The drivers up-shifted and accelerated from corner to corner. As they zoomed by us, they decelerated and down-shifted for the third corner of the anvil part of the track. All this noise on just the warm-up lap and there was the whole 59 lap race to go. Three laps into the race, as the field of cars went by and the noise died down a little bit, Dad asked me, "Which car do you think will win?" I saw a blue car, black car, blue car, white, white, red, red, red, white, orange, yellow, green, black, white. I yelled, "They look like my Crayola Crayon Box! I think the blue car at the front with a one on it will win!" Fifty-six laps of engine screaming noise later, the number one blue car did win. VVRROAROOOM! The winner was Jackie Stewart from Scotland, with a twenty second lead over his teammate Francis Cevert from France, followed by Denny Hulme from New Zealand. Dad asked, "Do you want to go to the Kendall Garage to see the cars?" I smiled and yelled, "Yes, please!" So, off we went to the car, then we drove to a parking lot near the garage. We were able to go in the garage, walking down a center aisle. The race teams and cars were on both sides of the center aisle. We found a table where a lady was selling race posters. Dad asked me, "Do you want today's race poster for your bedroom wall?" I said, "Yes, please." That was the day I started my F1 memorabilia collection, and I knew I wanted to be an F1 driver.

 Allen had taken Joe on many trout fishing adventures. The majority of time, they would not catch any trout. They could see the trout below the water's surface by wearing some dark sunglasses, to cut the sun's glare on the water. Off in the distance, they would see a trout jump out of the water to catch mayflies just above the surface. Most of the time, the fish just didn't want to bite on the bait that Allen and Joe presented.They tried flies for fly fishing, live worms, which somehow slid off the hook, little bread balls on the hook and small crayfish lures. Nothing seemed to work to catch those elusive Brown Trout. On today's fishing adventure, they had just left one trout stream, where they had zero luck in catching anything. Allen said, "Joe, let's go to another nearby stream. Maybe our luck will change". Driving down a two-lane country road, about 15 minutes later, suddenly a brown cottontail rabbit ran out in front of the car. Allen hit the brakes, but the rabbit got hit and tumbled under the car, hitting the bottom of our cobalt blue Toyota Corona a few times. The car came to a stop. Since the road was clear, Allen backed up the car to where the dead rabbit was laying on the road. He got out and put the banged up and slightly bloody rabbit in the trunk.They drove to a parking lot. Allen used a fishing fillet knife to gut and clean the rabbit in the trunk, then rolled it up in newspaper. He closed the trunk and got back in the car. Allen said, "Joe, I think our luck has changed".Joe said, "Yes Dad, I think it has changed too. When we get home, I can tell Mom all about how we caught our Rabbitfish!".

Be sure to look for our toys that reflect Joe's experiences of fishing, camping and hunting. More outdoor adventure toys will be coming available in the future, so check back again. Email us if you want to make a suggestion for an adventure you would like to see us make as a toy!

 

We had been on so many trout fishing trips, I lost count. Somewhere in central New York, we were off on another trout fishing adventure. You know how your parents tell you where we are going today, the place goes in one ear and out the other? That's what it's like when you are 8 years old and you are dreaming about catching the big one! How we got to the trout stream was a blur, but once we got to the water's edge it all came into focus. 

Stomp, splash, stomp, splash! I was walking through the water, about 4" deep, wearing my olive green rubber pack boots, which kept my feet dry, until the water got 1' deep, at which point my feet would be soaked. I was careful to be sure I stayed in shallow water, near the edge of the stream, as Dad walked about ten feet ahead of me. He wore his hip waders, so he could walk out into the deeper water to try and catch some trout, using a new crayfish lure we bought on the way to the stream. Dad kept walking, but I stopped quickly when I saw a 5" long crayfish sitting on the river bottom by a flat rock. I looked around and found a broken twig. I squatted down to tease the crayfish with my prodding stick. The crayfish attacked the stick with it's claws, grabbing on tightly. As our tug-o-war waged on, I saw the tiny gravel bottom start to move, but it had a blurry , ghostly appearance. I looked closer. The stream bed was not moving, it was hundreds of almost clear, baby crayfish! There were crayfish everywhere! As I am sure everybody knows, baby crayfish don't have any color pigment when born. Their color pigment kicks in after a few months when they have had plenty to eat, plus they grow larger to be able to protect themselves. I thought it would be fun to take some baby crayfish home with me. I yelled to my Dad, over the loud sound of the rushing stream water, "Hey Dad! Do you have something I can put some baby crayfish in?" He walked over to me from his fishing spot, about fifty feet away. When he got to me he said, "Is something wrong? I could not hear what you said over the rushing water." I told him, "No, I just wondered if you have anything I can put some baby crayfish in to take them home?" My Dad felt around in some of his pockets. He had a clear plastic round petri dish with a lid on it, full of trout fishing flies. He dumped the flies into another container with some lures and gave me the petri dish, saying, "Here, use this, you will be able to get them home safe." I scooped up five crayfish and as much water as the dish would hold, then put the lid on. I asked, "Do you think we can go home now? I have some babies to take care of." My Dad just smiled and said, "Sure we can go home. The trout weren't biting today anyways."
 

“OOOOOWWWWW!!!” That was me, screaming, at age 7 or 9, when a crab pinched my finger for the first time. Crab and lobster fisherman will tell you to wear thick gloves when handling crustaceans. In my lifetime, I have been to the beach hundreds, maybe over a thousand times. Only one time did I bring some gloves because I was going to catch some blue crabs for dinner. “MMMmmm, those were GOOD!”

What do you do for a beach day? A typical family might take a large umbrella or a pop-up tent. Somebody drags their huge cooler while another person grabs a couple beach chairs and a Frisbee. The kids have a bucket with hand shovel and their boogie boards. They look like they will have a fun day!

What do I do for a beach day? Since I am an artist, I typically bring my sketchpad, pencils and my Canon 35mm camera with zoom lens, plus my towel and chair. More often then not, I was by myself. I’m an introvert and prefer my own company. Being alone allows a lot of time for thinking about life, desires, planning, designing new products, doing artwork, and one of the most fun things, playing with the ghost crabs.

I think of the beach as my studio. I was on the beach in Wilmington, NC when I designed my Sandy Shore Skimboards in the late 1990s. They were shaped like some of the animals that lived in the ocean. I can make one if someone wants one, since I still have the templates.

When I get to my beach studio, I find a spot that is not crowded, spread out my towel on the sand or lay it on my chair. I catch some sun for a couple hours and watch the beach fill up with other people. I observe the wildlife and snap some photos of my favorites, pelicans, sand pipers, dolphins, ghost crabs and sometimes people. When I am feeling sketchy, 9 times out of 10, people agree to pose for me because they want to see the end result from the Modern Day DaVinci. My portfolio shows my studies of female anatomy.

When shadows grow long on the sand, the ghost crabs start scurrying out of their burrows. Running sideways, they go take a dip in the ocean to wet their gills. They search for something to eat and play most of the night.

When I was a teen, I discovered a way to not get your fingers pinched while catching a crab. Take your t-shirt or towel and throw it on a running crab. It stops immediately since it thinks it is hidden and safe. Through the fabric, feel where the crab’s body is, then grab it, thumb on the bottom and two fingers on top. Pick it up and move the fabric to see the crab. If it grabs anything, it will be the fabric, not your fingers.

Typically, I will hold a crab like this for about ten minutes while I study him, take some photos, then put him down on the sand. He waves a claw to say goodbye! I just made a new friend.

WWwwiiizzzzzzz. SSsplaaash! Standing at the bow of the boat, I cast my line and large frog lure about twenty feet from the boat. The frog fell into the water among the dark green lily pads. I let the frog sink a few feet, then started reeling it in, using a jerky motion with the rod. I wanted the frog to look like it was swimming, then relaxing, off and on. My frog was having a leisurely swim. SSSSPPPLLLAAASSHH!!!

Have you ever had a moment in your life when you knew something bad was about to happen? You can see it happen in slow motion in your mind, but then it really happens full speed to bring you back into reality.

The splashing water came from about three feet from the boat. It soaked my Gold Bass Pro fishing outfit, from my neck to my deck shoes! In the middle of the splash, I could see it. It was the most monstrous, wildly humongous largemouth bass I had ever seen and it was coming at me, in slow motion at first, which gave me time to admire the beautiful bright golden color. It was the Golden Bass, which if I landed it and got it into my live well, I knew I would win the fishing tournament. The fish was flying at my face! Still in slow motion, I could see the frog lure laying across the fish's mouth, the barbed hook wasn't even hooked to the fish. Her mouth looked big enough to hold an NFL football. How do I know it was a female? Only the female largemouth bass get this big. You can Google it. I had time to Google it, so I did. Imagine whipping out your phone, talking to Google, "How big do largemouth bass get?". I quickly put my phone in my pocket, knowing I was about to get smacked in the face...

Speaking of the NFL, I knew I was about to be hit by a big defensive lineman and I was the clueless quarterback about to get sacked. Back in my day, when I was in college, in my manual drafting class, the year before I learned to use Autocad, there was a player named Refrigerator Perry, number 72 and he played for the Chicago Bears. That guy was quite the lineman. He was so big, his teammates had to open both doors to let him in the building. Other big things popped in my mind like a VW Beetle, Greyhound bus, and a freight train chugged through my mind. He was big.

So was this fish! You know, seeing as I am in hyper-slow motion, and the Golden Bass is about to hit me, I think I have time for a quote from Ferris Bueller: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." That is so true! People should go on an adventure, then stop to just look around at all the beauty around them.

Speaking of beauty, have you ever walked on a beach totally covered with multi-colored seashells? There were so many colors, I shouted, "They look like my Crayola Crayon box!" I knelt down to scoop up a double handful of those beautiful seashells. I stood up, facing the ocean to watch the waves roll in.

"NNNNOOOOOO!!!" I yelled, as the bright yellow Spirit Airlines jet came at me, it's mouth against my mouth, it's golden scaley body hitting my chest. The colorful seashells went scattering all over like a confetti cannon. In the blink of Donkey's eye twitching, you know, from the Shrek movie, I was knocked out cold, fell backward into the water and began sinking. Even though I was unconcious, I was sure I heard the Golden Bass laughing at me. I thought I felt a tugging on my right arm.

"Are you ok?" my wife asked. She woke me from my nap. I replied, "Yes, but right NOW, I have GOT to GO catch the Golden Bass! It's GAME ON!"