Here’s to starting over.
If not from scratch, from wherever you can—as best you can.
Experience and hindsight make you smarter than you’ve ever been. You know the only thing keeping you from achieving everything you’ve ever dreamed of is your own bullshit excuses.
Yes. There are circumstances beyond your control.
Yes. There are obstacles. But obstacles are life’s detours.
These are new ways forward.
Sometimes we can get over. Others we have to go around.
We may have to make several attempts at going over. We may get high-centered. We may have to take the long way round. We may even have to backtrack.
Life is one big road trip.
And the best road trips are filled with detours.
If you drive anything quick, you know you’ve gone hunting for new corners. You’ve found yourself on that summer afternoon, windows down, left foot braking into a corner you’ve never seen before, riding the wave of adrenaline between fear of the unknown and confidence you can handle it.
If you drive anything lifted, you’re no different. You sick bastard. You actively seek out the literal rock and a hard place. You want to put it all on the line out where the hills have eyes and nobody can hear you scream. Body damage is a badge of honor awarded for handling the unknown.
So why do we chase thrills behind the wheel, but play it zero-risk elsewhere in our lives?
Why is it we’ll take apart perfectly functional vehicles because we think we can improve them—but have to hold out for perfection before we make simple changes that could improve our lives?
I’ve spent the last few years trying to figure this out.
We can’t start that business because somebody else already did.
We can’t change careers because we can’t afford to start over at the bottom.
We can’t build our dream machines because we don’t have enough money.
We can’t keep publishing a magazine that nobody buys because we have a job and kid.
Whether you think you can, whether you think you can’t—either way you’re right.
Being into cars got me under the hood and connected me with the knowledge, tools, and people that lead me to start publishing a magazine.
Publishing that magazine directly helped me get four of my last five jobs. Within the last two years, I’ve had a CEO tell me—during an interview—”Anyone who can publish his own monthly magazine obviously has the skills we need.”
If you can modify your vehicle, you can modify your life!
I see gearheads like us who have figured out how to leverage our automotive passions and skills to build better lives.
I see gearheads like us who are free from the rat race and dodgy, opportunistic economies because our automotive skills and connections prepare us for those blind corners and boulder fields.
I see gearheads like us who get it. And who come together to help each other succeed above and beyond whatever vehicles we’re doing whatever with these days.
I’ve wanted Gearbox Magazine to be something for those of us who have moved beyond building high performance machines—to building high performance lives.
We all know the machines bring us together. But it’s the people that keep us coming back for more.
With this longer than intended post, Gearbox Magazine is officially starting over. Again.
It’s not a clean slate. This place is still a mess.
And we’re building it in a messy garage where 10mm sockets go to die.
I’m nowhere near as prepared for this as I wanted to be, but we can’t wait for perfection.
Sometimes you just have to connect the battery, close your eyes, and turn the key.
Here’s to starting over.
If not from scratch, from wherever we can—as best we can.
We’re smarter than we’ve ever been. We’re gonna try some new roads. We’re gonna learn some new shit.
We’re gonna figure this out.