CHUCK: An Absolute Legend
By Lola Estelle
My friend Chuck was a man I could trust to put my life in his
hands and not have to think twice about it (I did it numerous
times). Mexico was our second home and playground. I fell
in love with Mexico and its culture while exploring and
learning the areas with Chuck. He was respected in the
racing world. And in Mexico, he was well-known. I mean,
we could be driving, stopped at a stop sign and someone
would drive by, recognize him and stop to chat and
catch up for a minute. On numerous occasions!
We would drive around and he always had the coolest stories to tell.
Ranging from soccer teams and restaurants (he showed me where the
first ‘Caesar’ salad originated) to how the color of the flowers on the
hill sides could lead you to “El Jefe” (the boss). Yellow meant “caution”,
purple meant “royalty” or “Jefes” (bosses), red meant “don’t go there“,
and white meant “friendly and welcoming“.
Chuck spent the last month of his life preparing for, and from what I
believe, what he knew would be his last Baja race.
We stayed at a beautiful ranch called Rancho Rincon El Tropical;
about 5 miles inland down a dirt road in Rosario. A gorgeous valley
of horses, hills, and the weather was always so breezy and warm.
I remember it seemed like every time we would drive down that
5-mile road (what felt like an eternity because you had to drive so
slowly), a memory would spark up and there was always this one
race he would talk about. As he would tell me about this Baja 500
race, his whole being would light up. I knew by the way he looked
while he talked about it and the things he would tell me, it was his
favorite place to be and his passion.
I was fortunate to attend my first Baja 500 race this year, and it was
Chuck’s last. We had a race team called Los Maniacos and Las Chikas
Malas! (The Maniacs and The Naughty Girls!). Our group included
hotographer, Billy Pegram, and close friend, Mo Martinez. What a group
of fun, collaborative and cool people!
Chuck ran the first leg of our race in awesome timing. Once he finished
and passed the baton, you could say, our next rider took over and did his
leg. We were in third place at that point. Everything was flowing until I
realized that I had the truck keys at the start line and we realized I was
supposed to hand them off to Billy, our photographer.
Oops. Now they were stranded- I had the keys and we had a race to win!
Aw, crap! Well, as usual, there Chuck came to save the day; He pulled up on his