I remember going on regular canoeing trips as a child with the same families and that became part of our family history. We still talk about all the harrowing experiences and near disasters that occurred during these trips, literally unforgettable memories.
I was reminded of my husband's passion the other day when he took the kids to Grand Prix New York. My husband is a closet race car driver. Yes, he has owned fast cars, and muscle cars and now dreams about collecting muscle cars. He has a particular liking for Shelbys. He has had more than his fair share of speeding tickets. He has taken driving courses at Skip Barber Racing School at Lime Rock and takes Tristan to see the American Le Mans races.
Cars (and racing in general) are not my thing, and it will never be a family passion but it is a nice father and son thing. (Claire likes it too!) Here is Tristan with his sister and cousin!
It's noisy. But a lot of fun. For them. I get claustrophobic putting the helmet on.
And from Friday onwards you might *hear* my husband coming home from work in his new Shelby GT500, the last car that Caroll Shelby worked on before his death.