It?s one of the most popular sporting events in the world. You?ve probably never heard of it. The Baja 1000 is the longest point-to-point race on the
planet. On Wednesday night, the documentary "Dust to Glory" premiered, celebrating that 30-year racing tradition.
The Baja 1000 is an off-road sprint that starts in the northern part of the Baja California peninsula in Ensenada along the Pacific Ocean and finishes
in La Paz at the southern tip of Baja along the Sea of Cortez.
The run is the "longest, knarliest race in the world," co-producer Mike "Mouse" McCoy told Associated Press Television News. "It?s 1,000 miles,
wide-open through the desert of Mexico."
McCoy worked in front of the camera, too, and emerges as the film?s star attraction. While other riders and drivers work as teams, splitting up the
race, the film shows McCoy attempting it on his own.
"Basically, I couldn?t believe that Mouse made it as far as he did," said director Dana Brown, whose last film, "Step Into Liquid," documented the
sport of surfing. "I don?t want to give away what happens," he continued. "But Mouse going solo 1,000 miles ? looking back on it was the most
ridiculous chance to take."
Movie-star attendees were nowhere to be found at this premiere, but racing types were aplenty.
Among them: Sal Fish, president of the SCORE International Off-Road Racing, which owns the Baja 1000.
"Mike McCoy and Dana Brown and
Brown appears to have squeezed every penny out of his relatively shoestring budget. "We had a 90-person crew out there, 65 cameras," the director
said. "I thought for sure something bad was going to happen. And the fact that nothing did: That was a real relief to me."
Some solid advance reviews couldn?t hurt either, though the film?s popularity stateside is still a big question mark. One place that?s a safer bet:
South of the border.
"The Mexican people, it?s their national holiday," McCoy said. "It?s Fourth of July and the Super Bowl all rolled into one. You get hundreds of
thousands of people, all throughout the desert, lining you on, cheering you on, as you go by. It?s amazing." Anonymous - 4-1-2005 at 08:56 AM
It's hard to decide who are the bigger fools in Dana Brown's documentary about the legendary Baja 1000 off-road race in ?Mexico ? the people who spend
thousands of dollars on cars, trucks and motorcycles that they frequently destroy, or the peasants who line the course and occasionally dart out in
front of the racers. Of course, a good, back-breaking, dust-eating time seems to be had by all.
The question is whether it's good documentary ?material for the son of legendary surfer chronicler Bruce Brown. The answer is, only intermittently.
There is some spectacular footage ? overhead, inside the vehicles, and along the Sonoran Desert course ? but where there is a natural poetry of motion
in surfing movies, off-road racing is a herky-jerky pastime whose ?appeal is hard to fathom. I guess you had to be there.
'Dust to Glory' could use less talking, more racing
Your enthusiasm for Dana Brown's flawed and thrilling racing documentary "Dust to Glory" will depend largely on if you're one of those people who
watches the Olympics for the human interest stories and not for the actual sporting events.
Because even though Brown and his team trained some 50 cameras on the world's longest, nonstop, point-to-point race, the movie spends more time
talking about people living their dreams than it does showing either dust or glory.
And a little yakking goes a long way here, particularly since Brown is the kind of enthusiast who is more booster than documentarian. Narrating his
own movie in flat, California cadences that bring to mind Kevin Costner, Brown bubbles and babbles on and on about the many dangers of the race and
the special nature of the participants. Meanwhile, in the background, Nathan Hurst apes James Horner with an overblown, operatic score that is as
wearying as it is unnecessary.
To tell Brown to shut up and let his pictures and participants tell their stories without all this gratuitous goosing would probably strike him as
anathema. Brown's enthusiasm is understandable - there's a lot of inherent drama in this punishing off-road race that traverses numerous terrains and
includes participants young and old driving vehicles of all shapes and sizes. And, to his credit, he does find some great stories.
There's the madman motorcyclist who wants to ride the entire 1,000 miles of the race by himself. Another family has three generations racing. There's
a 16-year-old marking his first Baja 1000; there's Mario Andretti bouncing down a dirt road and running out of gas, and there are the tough guys
driving unmodified pre-1982 VW Beetles, hard-core masochists whose goal is to simply finish the race.
As one enthusiast notes of the race: "It's life. In one day, you get to experience everything." That's about as deep as the movie gets because Brown
isn't one to offer much in the way of psychology or perspective. Instead, the film gives us some amazing footage of seemingly sane people doing crazy
things interspersed with a lot of shallow filler that is as illuminating as peering into a cloud of dust.
Eccentric race competitors provide 1,000 Baja thrills
In the desolation of the Baja peninsula, hundreds of daredevil drivers gather yearly for a race that covers more than 800 miles. The contest, dubbed
the Baja 1000, is the longest point-to-point competitive trek in the world.
Just about every mode of wheeled transport, save bicycles, can be found en route to the finish line, monster trucks and motorcycles, VW Beetles and
Winnebagos. The vehicles are piloted by a cross-generational array of amateurs and pros. Despite the demographic and automotive diversity, the
contenders all share a penchant for steering towards road less traveled, or off-road completely.
The kinetic documentary "Dust to Glory" captures the event as a spectacle and a subculture. Some 50 cameras offer multiple perspectives of the 2003
race. There are close-up shots inside the cars and wide-angle views from helicopters hovering above the dunes. Wrecks are experienced from a
first-person point of view, thanks to lens-equipped helmets worn by select drivers.
Interspersed with the high-velocity segments are interviews with some of the more distinctive competitors. There's Mike "Mouse" McCoy, a diehard
motorcyclist who drives the entire 18-hour stretch solo rather than splitting the journey with teammates. An all-female crew, comprising wives and
daughters of Baja racers, makes the trip as Team Estrogen. The event is a family affair for the McMillins, a father, son and grandfather who take
turns behind the wheel of a buggy.
Director Dana Brown ("Step Into Liquid") balances the action with human detail, so viewers with no knowledge of the subject matter aren't left in the
dust. Although the film has its share of jargon and name-dropping, it isn't as exclusionary as one might expect.
During the opening commentary, one driver compares the race to "a 24-hour plane crash," while another says the Baja setting is "the most beautiful
place in the world, the most scary place in the world."
The remarks may ring hyperbolic, but the footage backs the words. The paved sections of the trail aren't closed off for the event, so participants
must dodge local traffic, not to mention their competition. Passing an opponent usually involves ramming the vehicle's rear bumper. Ratcheting up the
challenge are the hordes of spectators who linger so close to the track, they put their own lives at risk (and indeed, the only casualty in 2003 was a
bystander hit by a motorcycle).
Some of the more pulse-jolting moments include a late-night wipeout on a motorbike and a shoreline run during which a driver from a second-rung team
outpaces one of the top contenders.
The Grand Marshall of the event, Mario Andretti, stars in one of the movie's most comedic scenes, as he rides in a truck that breaks down in the
desert. A Mexican family rescues the legendary racer and enlists him to help out with laundry chores.
Another entertaining sidelight is a visit with Coco, a local character who runs a roadside campground adorned with parts of less-fortunate Baja 1000
cars.
The people depicted in "Dust to Glory" may be nonconformists, but the film itself charts a pretty standard documentary course of talk and action.
Still, the talk is engaging and the action riveting.
Rating note: The film contains intense racing action and strong language. Anonymous - 4-1-2005 at 09:06 AM
Get ready to eat some dust! The Baja 1000, an annual off-road race near the California desert, is the subject of this wildly energetic and exuberantly
affectionate documentary. From director Dana Brown, whose glorious Step into Liquid is already a modern classic surfing documentary, comes a 50-camera
salute to the diverse cast of gearheads who endure the grueling 32-hour race. With cameras mounted inside cars and hovering overhead, the pace doesn't
let up--well, sometimes it does, so the dirt-surfers can share their "philosophies" about it all--yet the outcome is less important than the spirited
excitement of watching a 90-minute, multiple-car chase through dangerous terrain. The vehicles are as varied as the participants--ranging from crazily
expensive NASCAR-wannabe mobiles to early generation VW Beetles--and make both the race and its filmed capture a testament to the joy of speed.
Steve McQueen and James Garner, who drove in the Baja 1000 off-road race way back when, are listed as making cameo appearances in "Dust to Glory," a
proudly rowdy down-home documentary about the 2003 run. Those appearances consist of a brief, silent glimpse of Mr. Garner and what must be an even
briefer one of Mr. McQueen, because I'm not absolutely sure I saw him.
Dana Brown, who wrote and directed, is the son of the documentary filmmaker Bruce Brown and worked on "The Endless Summer II," his father's surfing
sequel. The younger Mr. Brown's new film is the product of real enthusiasm and may appeal to moviegoers who share his devotion to this dangerous race,
which runs the length of the Baja Peninsula in Mexico, from Tijuana to La Paz. The event, first held in 1967, involves a wide variety of vehicles,
including motorcycles, dune buggies, trophy trucks and unmodified pre-1982 Volkswagen Beetles.
Judging from the comments of participants, the race's appeal seems to be the joy of telling stories about the ordeal later. One man, obviously an
adrenaline addict, estimates that most people have 10,000 close calls in a lifetime, but anyone in this race has them all in one day, so that
afterward "regular life feels like slow-motion."
The racing champion Mario Andretti, grand marshal in 2003, does make a noteworthy appearance, and some of the race's old hands are interesting
characters. J. N. Roberts, for instance, a winner of the first Baja 1000, is competing again at age 62. There is occasionally some gorgeous scenery,
and the challenge of driving through silt is mildly interesting. (The secret of getting through it, they say, is never to let up on the gas.)
"Dust to Glory" is rated PG (Parental guidance suggested). It has some frightening driving and a spectator's accidental death.
We talk to the motorcycle legend about Dust to Glory.
March 31, 2005 - Mike "Mouse" McCoy is a motorcycle enthusiast and the son of producer, helicopter pilot and pioneer of both the buggies and
motorcycles in the Baja 1000, Mike McCoy. It may be hard to believe, but "Mouse" has been on bikes since the age of four. He has gone on to become one
of the most successful racers of his generation, winning countless championships and turning pro at only 14. After multiple injuries, "Mouse" retired
at a mere 17 to pursue film stunt work and producing. He is one of the producers on the new film Dust to Glory, directed by Dana Brown.
You've probably heard of the Baja 1000, but how much do you really know about it? Famously referred to as the greatest race no one has ever seen, the
Baja 1000 is an amazing and insane race across 1000 miles of Mexico covering terrain of every kind. Any and all vehicles can enter, from 4x4's to
motorbikes to dune buggies and just about everything in between. Dana Brown, son of legendary documentarian Bruce Brown and director of Step Into
Liquid decided to expose the Baja 1000, a race that is so expansive and so dangerous that no one has ever really successfully documented the yearly
tradition.
Beyond serving as a producer on the film, "Mouse" decided he would attempt something that had never been done before during the course of the race and
let Brown follow his plight as well. Generally, motorcycle entries in the race will drive for about 250 miles and then switch off to another driver.
"Mouse" decided he would attempt to become the first person ever to race the entire Baja 1000 completely on his own.
"Mouse" is pretty unassuming in person, dressed casually in a jean jacket and blue jeans. He wears a smile and seems excited to talk about the film
and his adventure with press. Despite multiple accidents and injuries, "Mouse" doesn't have any visible scars and appears pretty fit.
Reading about the Baja 1000 and seeing it in person or in the film are two entirely different experiences. "Mouse" explains the set-up to attempt to
capture this race on film: "The Baja 1000's the most famous race nobody's ever seen. Everybody's heard of it. You guys have all heard of it, [but]
you've never seen it. Because trying to chase like a live dragon across a 1000 miles of the desert is really daunting. So TV's given up on it a long
time ago. You put your standard three or four camera TV shoot and you get, like, nothing? We had to approach it like a full-on military operation. We
had 55 cameras, five helicopters, all the onboards on all the race cars, we had motorcycle guys with helmet-cams entered live in the race just to
chase and give POV footage. It was an all-out assault on it. We went big.
"I'm actually one of the producers of the film as well, so I was pretty dialed-in from the start? I developed this film with Dana Brown. I actually
pitched the concept to Dana and he came on board. There was months and months of preproduction, getting all the camera systems and everything ready,
so yeah, I totally knew what was going on."
Pretty much anyone with a vehicle and the entrance fee can race in the Baja. "Anybody with any vehicle can enter. It's probably the most democratic
race in the world. Guys with 10,000 dollar vehicles and guys with million dollar vehicles. I think the entrance fee is like 1,200 bucks. You pass a
mild tech inspection, safety inspection and they'll find a class for you. Everybody from stock Volkswagon to an 850 horse power trophy truck."
Besides producing the film and helping Dana Brown and crew prepare for the groundbreaking film, "Mouse" was also out to achieve a personal goal that
no one had ever done before. "The thing was, what I was trying to do personally [was] solo the Baja 1000 on a motorcycle, [which] set me up for
failure big time. People just said you're not going to be able to do it, it's just going to eat you alive. It's too hard. And you knew, man, 'Hey, I'm
doing this in front of all these cameras, so if I fail, I'm gonna fail big in front of the cameras.' You were totally aware that all the eyes were on
you, but at the same time, once the flag dropped, you didn't think about anything else but racing."
Training for his mission required as much mental preparation as physical. "The physical training's pretty obvious. I ran and ran and I would ride and
ride. More important was the mental training. I spent a lot of time alone. That year before was pretty tripped out. I spent a lot of weekends, I'd go
to the desert by myself and I'd ride hundreds of miles, loops through the mountains of the desert all by myself just getting used to being alone, and
just spending that time to really visualize and program my brain to do this?"
Late in the film, just when "Mouse's" journey seems to be moving right along, he suddenly has a brutal crash. The scene is a harrowing moment in the
film. "Yeah, I broke my ribs, my hand, my shoulder separated. I bashed my head really good too. I was about, I don't know, 14 [or] 15 hours into the
race and it was about 150 miles of whoop-tee-doos non-stop, it was the roughest section of the course. You were racing all day and my arms were
totally locked up, they were gone, my whole body was pretty much destroyed physically, but I was still racing for third overall at the time. I was in
it and I hit a big square inch bump and didn't even see it, like a rock shelf thing at about 75 miles an hour at night. I flipped over the handlebars.
The best way I can [explain] it is picture going down a dirt road at 75 miles an hour and jumping out of a pickup truck. That's about what it's gonna
feel like.
"I've been in some worse ones. Your first instinct is to get off of the course, because it's pitch dark, you're in the mountains, and you're laying in
the middle of the trail. Somebody's going to come along and just run you over. They won't see you laying there in time to get away. I just crawled to
the side. But it was funny, my brain was so programmed to finish man, I just got up and got back in the race. It didn't even register, my brain was
really separated from my body at that point. I didn't feel any pain, really. It was just shut off to it, didn't care what my body was telling it, my
brain was racing to the finish line."
Beyond the mere terrain and the oddity of race that allows any vehicle, there are no regulations or laws the spectators must adhere to. "There's no
laws down there man. It's the wild west. It's Baja! That's the beauty of it though. It's a place you can go be free? Without really any rules or
regulations? First thing is the spectators sometimes aren't that great. A lot of the times they're awesome, they're your biggest fans, but you get a
few guys that like to drink beer all day and build booby-traps, so they'll bury telephone poles or dig ditches or all kinds of s**t like that to watch
you crash. A lot of times like that, you'll see a big crowd and you know you've got to kind of get out of the throttle, because there could be a
booby-trap there. They're drunk, they want to see you crash and then they'll help you get back up. But a lot of guys get really hurt hitting booby
traps. That's the one thing? Motorcycles, you're more aware that if you kinda got wide on the corner and hit somebody, you're gonna crash too, but the
car guys, they gotta worry about killing people. Once you get outside of the major towns, it's just you and the desert. There's nobody for hours and
hours?"
One thing that occurred to me as I watched Dust to Glory was that this would make one kick-ass videogame. I asked "Mouse" if he had any thoughts on
this. "We've been talking about it. I think when the film comes out and does well, then the videogame guys will go, 'Ah, okay, now we gotta hop on
board. Now we get it.' It could make for a rad videogame. Really like an in-depth deep one that takes days and days? You've got navigation, you've got
strategy, you can build your own vehicle. From the bandidos and the booby traps to the [whole] deal. Fuel and strategy, it could be really great man,
it could be a great strategy game. That's what it is a lot of times, it's like a chess match with the desert."
"Mouse" says he is interested in producing more racing films in the future. He's also done some recent stunt work on films, but admits that he's not
too happy with the end results he's seen. "I'm not that happy personally with the state of filmmaking and racing today? I'm a stuntman, so I did quite
a bit of the motorcycle stunts on Torque. When you see the finished product with all the CG and all that? The thing about it is we did a lot of
full-out s**t on that movie, like we really went for it. And then when you gob all that CGI on top of it, no one believes even the stuff you did? That
opening scene with that wheelie, I did like ten 114-mile-an-hour wheelies down that road that day. I did that shot wheeling through those cars when
they split, like 85 miles an hour between those two cars. Then they put all the CGI bulls**t swooshes? We did that whole collision sequence, we did
that for real. 70 miles an hour hitting each other on motorcycles. They put CGI and you lose your audience?
"The thing about [Dust to Glory] that I think everybody's going to enjoy is the fact that it's real. These are real men really risking their lives,
really going for it, really hanging it out. This isn't some CGI, computer generated basically animation film. That's the way I look at most of these
big films today. So what that airplane crashed into the building, it was CGI. No one cares anymore, but people care about this. We wanted to go give a
true to life real racing film. We wanted this to be a 100 percent accurate rendition of why people go racing."
(PG) - The occasional stretches of panoramic beauty seeping through this dewy-eyed celebration of the Baja 1000 off-road race don't quite cover up its
purple, puffy patches. Directed, written and narrated by Dana Brown. 1:33 (scattered vulgarisms). At select theaters.
You want real competitive sport? Try coming up with an introductory sentence for the Baja 1000 that doesn't include some variant of the word
"grueling." (No fair dialing up the thesaurus!) Devotees of ABC's "Wide World of Sports" are familiar with the platitudes that have annually greeted
this off-road race staged along the rugged coastal terrain of western Mexico. And indeed, on a lazy Saturday afternoon of TV viewing, watching
obsessed gear-heads pounding the wheels of their motorcycles, dune buggies and trophy trucks over perilous, forbidding desert terrain does live up to
the hype.
"Dust and Glory" is, essentially, an extended platitude that makes its every image, no matter how entrancing, into an instrument of the hard sell.
It's nice that filmmaker Dana Brown feels so revved up about his subject. But the exuberance is confined to his overheated narration and never comes
through here the way such excitement has in other recent documentaries, notably 2001's "Dogtown and Z-Boys," that span the globe to bring you the
constant varieties of (extreme) sports.
The film spends considerable time introducing you to the racers. But most of them seem so uniform in their embrace of family values and homespun
virtue that you wonder why Brown bothers. An hour passes before the aerial cameras actually pick up a mano-a-mano duel between two cyclists, one of
whom streaks along the beach after the other's dust trail.
Maybe that's all there is to get of such lengthy competition. Otherwise, there are glimpses of cranky guys like NASCAR star Robbie Gordon egging on
his support team and grimly determined Mike "Mouse" McCoy who, unlike most other competitors, is shown doing the whole 800- mile course by himself.
Such bits intrigue and, strung together, could have made a substantial "Wide World" segment. But if the Baja 1000 merits more epochal treatment, "Dust
and Glory" doesn't make the case. Anonymous - 4-1-2005 at 09:26 AM
Every year some 1200 hard-core racers and 2000 spectators gather in the Mexican desert for an extreme three-day test of endurance and skill. Like any
motorsports event, the ultimate goal for Tecate SCORE Baja 1000 entrants is to win, but for many, just finishing the race is considered a victory.
Conquering the thousand-mile course - traversing treacherous, punishing terrain and living to tell the tales - is considered a major accomplishment
for both man and machine.
Dust-eating adventurers have been gathering in Ensenada, Mexico, since 1967 to test their skills and fortitude en route to La Paz in the Baja 1000,
the longest non-stop, point-to-point race in the world. Their vehicles range from high-tech $200k rigs to backyard-built off-roaders in all shapes and
sizes. There are motorcycles built to travel at speeds up to 120 mph, Frankensteined dune buggies powered by Porsche engines, and 800-horsepower
Trophy Trucks. Regardless of budget or competition class, the machines are built to thrive on the Baja backroads and open frontier. They must tear
across silt and rocks, desert and sandy beaches, and up and down steep mountain roads through both daylight and darkness to triumph over the course
laid out each year by SCORE officials. The meek and inexperienced best not attempt this race, the world?s greatest motorsports challenge.
Award-winning filmmaker Dana Brown (best known for the surf classic ?Step into Liquid?) took a crew of 90 along on the November 2003 event to capture
the danger and the glory of this unparalleled odyssey in ?Dust 2 Glory.?
This 90-minute feature documentary immerses the audience right into excitement of the race, without the sweat-soaked, roadside experience previously
necessary to catch these brave competitors in action. More than 50 cameras, some overhead in helicopters, some mounted in the cars, and some inside
the helmets of the racers themselves, follow the progress of the teams from start to finish. The resulting feature was culled from more than 250 hours
of film acquired by the end of the event.
Calling it ?a race against the clock in a country that defies time,? Brown immerses viewers into the drama from the very beginning, joining the
camaraderie of the pre-race festivities and introducing us to the racers and their machines. At the starting line, we meet Mike ?Mouse? McCoy (one of
the film?s producers) who has decided he will race the entire thousand miles of the race on his motorcycle solo; a brutal, jack-hammering, 18-hour
journey with no relief rider.
We also meet the McMillin family, three generations of racers including rookie driver 16-year-old Andy, who got his driver?s license just in time for
the event. There is the team of Jimmy and 62-year-old father JN Roberts, who is returning to battle 30 years after his victory in the first Baja 1000
in 1967. To satisfy the girls who are likely to be dragged to this film with their boyfriends, there?s also an all-woman team (also dubbed ?Team
Estrogen?) comprised of the wives and daughters of other racers.
Best known for his NASCAR and Indy accomplishment, pro-driver Robby Gordon brings track-earned star-power to the adventure in his Trophy Truck.
Presiding over the whole event is perhaps the most famous racer alive, Mario Andretti. Archive footage featuring Steve McQueen, Parnelli Jones, and
James Garner is also peppered into the film.
Thrilling in-car race footage and overhead helicopter shots are woven between straight-from-the-heart interviews with the drivers and Dana Brown?s
narration, resulting in an exciting, dramatic documentary that draws viewers right in to the thrill of the thousand-mile race.
Additiional behind-the-scenes footage also shows a more poignant side of the event. In one cutaway, we witness one racer in his off time visiting
children in a mexican orphanage where his annual visits and charitable contributions have made him as anticipated as a real-life Santa Claus. We also
meet one-legged race supporter Coco, whose campground ?Coco?s Corner? has been an off-road oasis open to participants for more than 10 years. And in
one particularly emotional scene, we are witness to the heartache that occurs when a spectator is hit by motorcyclist on the course, and the safety
attendant (affectionately known as ?the Weatherman?) pleads via radio for a helicopter to provide assistance. His anguish is clear when he realizes no
aid can arrive in time to save the injured onlooker.
Each year a new course is set by Sal Fish, who first became involved with the race in its early days when he drove a Baja Bug sponsored by the Revell
model car kit company. ?That?s what put me in touch with the peninsula and the people, and I fell in love with it,? says Fish. In 1973, Fish replaced
Mickey Thompson to become president of SCORE and has been running the race ever since. ?Believe it or not, we?re still on the same roads and trails we
used back in the early 1970s. Some have been paved or grated, but basically the footprint is the same as the early guys used.? Racers can take a
chance and leave the course if they choose, but they risk the chance of missing one of the 12 checkpoints set up randomly along the way. ?This race is
the only forum in motorsports that pits man and machinery against the elements,? says Fish.
The course is marked by tape and arrows on the trees, the tiremarks from the vehicle ahead, and sometimes by spectators illuminated by headlight beams
pointing out which way to go. On a dark night with no moon, drivers who get lost have to go back and retrace their tracks. ?It?s really easy to get
lost,? explains Brown. ?They give you a map, but there are no big cones or anything like that.? Even then, some veteran racers still take their own
personal shortcuts. ?It?s amazing the knowledge some of those guys seem to have, they know every rock and tree and branches for a thousand miles,?
Brown exclaims.
Official rules allow contestants 40 hours to complete the course, an amount of time meant to give drivers enough time to fix a problem and still make
it to the finish line. Of course that depends on the severity of the damage, which can range from simply replacing flat tires, to replacing entire
transmissions, and even welding body parts back together with any scrap metal available, even if it?s a golf club. Fish estimates that about 50
percent of the drivers who start make it to the end, with the fastest time being set by a motorcyclist who completed the race in just under 16 hours
with an average speed of 62 mph.
Brown says from his vantage in making the film, ?the machines seemed born of the land, and the individual racers, pushing for a common goal, seemed to
unite as one.? The contestants, young and old, men and women, American, Mexican, and from all over the world, don?t race just each other, ?they race
the Baja itself.? Ultimately, he says, ?This film isn?t about a race, but the race -- the human race.? In the long run, says Brown, ?great things
happen and terrible things happen, it?s how you deal with them at the end of the night. It?s like life.?
The immersive film allows the viewer to live vicariously through the heroic characters Brown focuses on. These men and women have the courage to face
the harshest motorsports challenge and surmount hurtles that would stop most people in their tracks. Equal parts entertaining and inspiring, ?Dust 2
Glory? brings the underrated world of off-road endurance to the big screen with the visual thrills the sport has long deserved.
As Dana Brown says, ?a thousand miles and 32 hours can be a lifetime in a blink.? If you?re a fan of motorsports, don?t miss this opportunity to live
this adventure in just 90 minutes. Rated PG, ?Dust 2 Glory? opens in Los Angeles and New York on April 1, and continues a limited nationwide rollout
through May. For more information, or to find a theatre near you, visit their official website at d2gfilm.com.
Sent to cover an off-road race in Las Vegas, Hunter S. Thompson created "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," his masterpiece of drug-fueled gonzo
journalism. For Thompson, the only state of mind conducive to reporting the insanity of hundreds of men chasing each other through the desert was one
powered by ungodly quantities of mind-altering substances. What would Thompson have thought about "Dust to Glory," the clear-eyed documentary about
the Baja 1000, a 32-hour, 1,200 man, 1,000-mile race?
As directed by Dana Brown ("Step Into Liquid"), "Dust to Glory" is less about the abstract lunacy of racing across a desolate peninsula, and more
about the stories and challenges it holds for the individuals who dare to try it. Because Brown's subjects are men (and, in one case, women) who risk
their lives and spend huge amounts of time, money and effort to compete in a race with a minimal purse and little press coverage, it would be easy to
portray them as loons. But Brown feels a kinship with the Baja racers. Like many of them, his vocation is a family tradition; his father Bruce
directed the watershed surfing documentary "The Endless Summer" and passed his love of the sport (and of filming it) to his son. Like Brown's surfer
friends and subjects, the racers are driven by the need for personal accomplishment and to confront and tame the harsh realities of nature by
returning to "the instinctual."
The Baja is a marathon; one veteran of the race refers to it somewhat wistfully as, "a 24-hour plane crash" in a place that is described as a cross
between the Old West and the Twilight Zone. All kinds of land vehicles compete in the race, from motorcycles to trophy trucks to dune buggies to ? get
this ? unmodified, period Volkswagen Beetles. Trying to race Beetles off-road through the desert is, well, it's like trying to race a Beetle off-road
through the desert.
Brown's cameras seem to be everywhere: inside trucks, attached to cyclists' helmets, hanging from helicopters. You would think providing a lucid
narrative of a 2-day race would be like trying to race a Beetles off-road through the desert, but Brown keeps his cast manageable and interesting. Key
among the characters is Mike "Mouse" McCoy, who is attempting the rather ludicrous task of driving the entire 1,000 miles by himself (motorcycles are
typically ridden by 2-man teams). Brown uses McCoy to symbolize and cover the whole race: Why do the whole thing by yourself? Well, why do the whole
thing at all?
For the glory, of course. Brown, who also narrates the film, keeps the tone noble and proud, singularly focusing on the determination and achievements
of the racers on and off the course. He does so with striking clarity and often masterful editing, but one can't help occasionally wishing he would
lighten up a little. McCoy's accomplishments are startling, but I was most curious about something Brown is too earnest to pursue: When you're riding
a bike in the desert for 20-odd hours straight, where the hell do you go to the bathroom?
Having never rode a motorcycle myself (to me, "off-road" means the sidewalk), I was able to appreciate and enjoy the world of "Dust to Glory." It
works best when sharing the inspiring stories of the warmth and goodness of the racers, like one champion who gives one of his jerseys to a little boy
he encounters in a pit stop who tells him he's his idol. Hunter Thompson's version of the Baja 1000 would have been great but it might have missed out
on moments like that.
In his 2003 documentary "Step Into Liquid," director Dana Brown captured the beauty and allure of surfing as perhaps no other filmmaker had --
and that includes "The Endless Summer," the 1966 cult classic made by Brown's father, Bruce.
For his new movie, Brown, 45, moved to dry land -- very dry land. Thrilling and life-affirming like "Liquid," "Dust to Glory" chronicles the grueling
and all-are-welcome Baja 1000, the longest nonstop, point-to-point motor race in the world. One rider in the film equates taking part in the annual
off-road event to being in a 24-hour plane crash. Others seem to be in it just for pure fun ... or torture.
Among the 1,200 racers who brave the 800 miles of goat trails, fields of cacti and dry river beds are Mexican die-hards whose pre-1983 Volkswagen Bugs
look as if they'd have a hard time completing a grocery run in the Haight. The most astonishing ride is that of a motorcyclist who decides to do the
whole thing solo. He's very skilled, but that doesn't prevent him from becoming a babbling, frazzled mess -- even before he fractures some ribs. All
this for a top prize that'll maybe buy you a cheap used car.
Brown, who lives in Long Beach, discussed the race and his craft on a recent visit to San Francisco.
Difference between people who risk their lives surfing 50-foot waves and people who risk their lives driving at 150 mph:
None. I mean, they're both nuts in their own special way. And what they get out of it is not being nuts. They get some piece of mind out of it.
More difficult to film -- surfing or road racing:
Road racing. It's so spread out. I thought nothing could get tougher than surfing. And then, God, to shoot this stuff, it's crazy hard. (Brown's 90-
person crew shot with 50 cameras, on eight different film formats.)
Most surprising aspect of the race:
The old-fashioned values. It's almost a Norman Rockwell kind of thing that goes on. They very much care for each other.
Damage done to film equipment:
One camera got run over. And the cleaning bill from the silt and dust, it was giant, something like $13,000. It was a hysterical amount.
What he must have when he's on the road:
Fun. What we do is entertainment.
What not to bring when filming in the desert:
Don't bring Guaycura (a Mexican liqueur). Because the crew gets into it and they start getting loopier than hell.
Complaints he's heard about the race:
What I've really heard most from people who aren't in it is, "The environment must really take a beating." But they're on ranch roads, they're
existing roads. If you're down in Baja, looking around -- they don't have a lot of money down there -- and your biggest concern is that once a year
these 200 cars go roaring down that dirt road, you have your head up your burro about 4 feet.
Creatures unfortunate enough to get in front of speeding vehicles:
All of them. Everything gets hit, unfortunately.
Best nickname of any driver:
Mouse. What grown man is gladly called Mouse?
Favorite food of the racers:
Tacos. They call everything tacos.
Strangest vehicle:
Humvees are pretty damn strange down there. They're all buffed out. They come in dead last, but they're still kind of shiny when they come across the
line. Some of these guys are driving and they go, "Oh, are we OK on that side?" They're not plowing through like those other guys who are missing
pieces of car.
Worst delay of the race:
The police, when they pulled over the trophy trucks. (The 800-horsepower vehicles were stopped for speeding.) That was so funny because that's the
glamour-puss division. I mean, some of those cats are captains of industry.
His most death-defying experience ever:
I almost drowned once surfing at Sunset Beach (on Oahu). ... I was down there long enough that I literally starting thinking about -- which was so
dumb -- "I wonder what the newspaper's going to say about this!"
What he drives:
A 1980 Chevy Impala.
Advice his father gave him:
You can make anything happen. Just take a deep breath and then just go ahead.
First thing he ever filmed:
A Western, when I was 10. It was an 8mm film.
Favorite documentary:
"On Any Sunday" (1971 documentary about motorcycle racers made by his father).
Favorite car chase scene in a movie:
"Bullitt," for sure.
Dream project:
It might have been this one. I don't know -- the next one is always my dream project.
For his first effort behind the cameras, veteran Hollywood stuntman Mike ?Mouse? McCoy decided to share his passion for one of the most grueling races
on the planet.
By Todd Gilchrist
April 4, 2005
The new film Dust to Glory follows as many as thirty contenders, all racing for top honors in the Baja 1000, a race for which completion, rather than
an outright championship, is the ultimate goal. These competitors are riding in all manner of vehicles, enduring all kinds of obstacles, and
conquering all kinds of odds. And yet, one lone cyclist becomes the film?s breakout star: Mike ?Mouse? McCoy, an adventurer - or some might venture to
say crazy person - who decided to run the race by himself.
McCoy has worked as a stunt man in Hollywood for years on such films as Torque and Flight of the Phoenix. But his latest project is one that by its
very nature has scared away more than a few of his industry counterparts.
?The thing is that the Baja 1000 is the most dangerous race that nobody has ever seen,? he says during a recent interview with FilmStew. ?You?ve all
heard of it, but you?ve never seen it, because trying to chase it - a live dragon across 1000 miles of desert - is really daunting. TV?s given up on
it a long time ago.?
?We had to approach it like a full-on military operation,? McCoy continues. ?We had 55 cameras, five helicopters, all of the on-boards on all of the
race cars, and motorcycle guys with helmet cams entered live in the race just to chase and get POV footage. It was an all-out assault on it.?
McCoy confesses there were also personal motives for wanting to follow the race, including his desire to fulfill a lifelong dream. ?I?ve raced the
Baja for years, and one of my goals in life was to solo [race] the 1000,? he admits. ?I mean, I love riding motorcycles, I love racing, I love Baja,
and just something got inside me? I wanted to see how far I could push myself, you know, ?How far can you go with this???
He soon found out the answer to that question, convincing his friend Dana Brown (Step Into the Liquid) to come on board as director and then bravely
choosing to race the entire duration of the course by himself, despite the fact that it is a feat almost never attempted. ?The majority of the time,
you are on a four or five-man team,? he explains. ?You?ll ride 250 miles, hand the bike off to your teammate, he rides 250 miles, that?s pretty much
how everybody does it.?
?It?s 250 miles of the roughest, gnarliest terrain in the world. But 1000 is a whole different deal.?
The undertaking became even more intimidating once McCoy realized it was going to be recorded for posterity. ?What I was trying to do personally set
me up for failure big time,? he recalls. ?I mean, a lot of people said, ?You?re just not going to be able to do it, it?s just too hard.? I knew that
if I failed, I [was] going to fail big in front of the cameras.?
?You were totally aware that all of these eyes were on you,? says McCoy. ?But at the same time, once the flag dropped, you didn?t think about anything
else but racing.?
McCoy says his preparation for the race stressed mental resilience as much as physical strength. ?I spent a lot of time alone,? he says. ?Almost that
whole year before, I was pretty tripped out. A lot of weekends, I?d go to the desert by myself and I?d ride hundreds of miles, loops through the
mountains of the desert, all by myself, just to get used to being alone, and just spending that time to really visualize and to program my brain to do
this.?
?I think creative visualization was as important as anything,? he suggests. ?Really seeing yourself getting to the finish line, and making sure that
you stay calm all of the way through it.?
McCoy suffered several injuries during the race as a result of a crash, but he says an ?eyes on the prize? mentality won out over physical pain and
general fatigue. ?I broke my ribs, my hand, my shoulder separated, and I bashed my head real good, too,? he reveals. ?I was about fourteen, fifteen
hours into the race, I think, and there was about 150 miles of whoop-de-dos nonstop. It was just the roughest section of the course.?
?I?d been racing all day and my arms were totally locked up and then they were gone and my whole body was pretty much destroyed,? adds McCoy. ?But I
was still racing for third overall. I was in it, and I hit a big, square-edged bump and didn?t even see it. It was like a rock shelf thing, at about
75 miles an hour at night, and I flipped over the handlebars.?
?The best way I can [describe it] is picture going down a dirt road at 75 miles an hour and jumping out of the back of a pick-up truck.?
Though McCoy admits he?s endured worse accidents in his many years of riding and racing, he says that the Baja?s unique environmental circumstances
present additional perils for riders. ?Your first instinct is just to get off of the course, because it?s pitch dark, you?re in the mountains, you?re
laying in the middle of a trail, and somebody?s going to just come along and run you over,? he observes casually. ?They won?t see you laying there in
time to get out of the way.?
But he says that with his brain on autopilot, he more or less disregarded the incident and resumed riding as if nothing happened. ?It?s funny, because
my brain was so programmed to finish, man, I just got up and just got back into the race. I didn?t even register. My brain was really separated from
my body at that point, and I didn?t feel any pain, really, it was just shut off to it. It didn?t care what my body was telling it.?
?My brain was racing to the finish line.?
Sadly, McCoy says that the numerous hazards that can befall competitors include those conjured up by spectators. ?The spectators sometimes aren?t that
great,? he admits. ?A lot of times, they are awesome and they are your biggest fans, but you get a few guys who like to drink beer all day and build
booby traps, so they will bury telephone poles or dig ditches and do all kinds of sh-t like that to watch you crash.?
?There are times when you see a big crowd and you know you?ve got to kind of get out of the throttle because there could be a booby trap there,? he
continues. ?If you crash, then they will help you get back up, but a lot of guys get really hurt hitting booby traps.?
Looking at a roomful of agape mouths, McCoy laughs as he reveals the sad and sometimes funny fact that there isn?t much in the way of law or
regulations- either for the racers or the spectators. ?Down there, it?s the Wild West,? he says. ?That?s the beauty of it, though; it?s a place where
you can go and be free, just hanging out without any rules or regulations. There?s no liability at all.?
It?s in that juxtaposition, McCoy says, that he finds the race appealing. ?The best part is being free and hanging out and going fast, [and] the
worstpart is crashing, man,? he says. ?It sucks. It?s no fun to crash because there?s no safety crew- it?s not like you crash in a NASCAR [race] where
there?s on-site doctors and ten ambulances and all of that.?
?You might be out in the desert all night or all day, and nobody?s going to find you or they just can?t get to you quick enough.?
In the end, McCoy hopes this quality will help make the film successful. ?The thing about this film that I think everybody?s really going to enjoy is
the fact that it?s real,? he says succinctly. ?These are real men, really risking their lives, really going for it, hanging it out.?
?This isn?t some CGI computer-generated animation film,? he avers. ?That?s the way I look at most of these big films today. I mean, who cares that the
airplane crashed into the building; it?s CGI.?Anonymous - 4-5-2005 at 10:22 AM
" The Baja 1000 is the longest point-to-point race on the planet"
I guess the writer of the article has never heard of the Paris to Dakar race. But then thats only about 5000 miles long.
?You put a 35mm camera on their heads, and they whine,? Dana Brown says. ?It?s like, ?Here, let me put a bowling ball on the other side for balance.??
The heads to which Brown was referring belonged to riders and crewmen covering the Baja 1000?excuse me, Tecate SCORE Baja 1000. Brown?s gone from the
surf (for his most-excellent 2003 film Step Into Liquid) to the turf with Dust to Glory, which opens here Friday but got its Orange County premiere
March 29 at the Lido Theatre in Newport Beach.
After a tubby guy wearing a too-tight checkered-flag shirt stretched across his belly and hugging the world?s largest tub of popcorn finally found his
seat in the front row, Newport Beach Film Festival (NBFF) CEO Gregg Schwenk welcomed the packed house, as this screening benefited this year?s fest,
which runs April 21-30. Schwenk noted that the Brown family has received much love from the NBFF: Dana?s dad, Bruce Brown (The Endless Summer, On Any
Sunday), was honored at last year?s festival, and entered this year is Islands in the Stream: A 16mm Surf Documentary, which Dana?s son Wes
co-directed.
Despite Brown?s familiarity with locals (he grew up in Dana Point), he found the turnout for his $2 million film ?overwhelming.?
?I?d like to take all the credit, but I brought people with me,? Brown said before introducing the film?s ?star? (and co-producer) Mike ?Mouse? McCoy
and co-producer/co-editor/Springsteen look-alike (at least in a darkened theater) Scott Waugh, who explained, ?We wanted to show it to our community
first.?
Based on this crowd, you could peg that community as mostly male and about 37. As the movie played, the extremely few times that loud engines or music
were not blaring from the speakers, you?d hear these manboys whooping, ?YEAH!? and, ?AHHHHH-OOOOOO!??especially if the onscreen action involved
vehicles bumping one another (which is apparently the universally agreed-upon signal for the slower driver in front to move over). It was really cute
when Dust to Glory followed a team of wives, daughters and mothers of longtime Baja 1000 male racers; when they, too, bumped a buggy in front of
theirs, females at the Lido unleashed their own ?AHHHHH-OOOOOO!?
As the final credits rolled, McCoy, Waugh and Brown, clutching a copy of everyone?s favorite OC alt. weekly (props to our product-placement
department), took questions from the fans. Mouse?who?d just appeared onscreen riding the entire 1,016 miles alone on a motorcycle, the first ever to
accomplish the feat?thanked the crowd for showing up at the Lido and Brown for showing up at Baja.
?He was just like the racers,? McCoy said of Brown. ?He kept going and going and going. He had the same spirit as racers.?
Brown, modest, gave the props to his 90-man crew. ?We had people we didn?t even know were working for us,? Brown said of those scraping mud off 55
cameras along the route, inside buggies, overhead in helicopters and, yes, even mounted to helmets. Shooting in 35mm, 16mm, direct video (DV) and
mini-DV formats, most cameras wound up covered in silt. Brown got a $13,000 cleaning bill.
Many who?d run the race were in the audience, and the director apologized that his final cut did not include participants from every SCORE class. ?I
know a lot of you told your girlfriends that we shot you, and it?s got to be disappointing not being in the movie,? he said. He had 250 hours of
footage to trim into a 90-minute film, something he and Waugh accomplished after a year of 20-hour days in postproduction.
Brown had been quite familiar with the Baja 1000, as his father filmed it in 1968 for ABC?s Wide World of Sports, but experiencing the 2003 race gave
him a whole new perspective.
?It?s dangerous,? he said. ?Those guys are fast, and those crowds get close. It?s that bullfighting mentality.?
And the drivers: ?You guys are crazy!?
He described Baja California, which he knows better from surfing than riding, as ?magical.?
?You can be up here and hear people talking about UFOs and think, ?There?s no UFOs.? Go to Baja, and there?s UFOs. It?s a trippy place, and you don?t
have to travel very far to find it.?
Despite his new role in promoting a race that?s been criticized for destroying nature, Brown said he?s proud of the contributions such legends as
motorcyclist Malcolm Smith and auto racing?s Parnelli Jones have made to the region after the Baja 1000 exposed them to it. Smith, as shown in the
film, supports a local orphanage. Brown said he showed his film to Baja residents and officials to make sure they agreed he was respectful to their
home.
That could have been cause for worry the first day he arrived for filming and Waugh mentioned, ?I hope my streak gets broken.? Turns out Waugh had
been arrested during every previous visit to Baja. Yes, the streak was indeed broken.
McCoy also broke a streak, vowing, ?No more solo ever again.? As the film shows, riding a bike for 1,000 miles numbs your hands, makes you daffy and
almost kills you just short of the finish line.
Mouse started riding at age four, but as a teen, he got burned out and spent seven years off motorcycles. Asked what caused him to quit, he explained,
?I had to get chit out of my system as a kid.?
Brown interrupted him to point to a kid, a gentle reminder that this wasn?t a PG-13 audience.
?Oh, chit,? Mouse said sheepishly.
Brown was coy about his next film. He said he has an idea but doesn?t want to expose it for fear of getting people involved excited, and then dropping
those plans. ?You have to fall in love with these things,? he said. ?My dad warned me, too: ?You don?t want to do that for a living.??bufeo - 4-8-2005 at 12:33 PM
Quote:
Originally posted by Anonymous
" The Baja 1000 is the longest point-to-point race on the planet"
I guess the writer of the article has never heard of the Paris to Dakar race. But then thats only about 5000 miles long.
The "Paris to Dakar race" [sic] this year went from Barcelona to Dakar, and is now called The Dakar Rally. Yes, it's much longer
and takes nearly three weeks to complete, but it's not a "point-to-point" race, and I imagine that's why the writer chose those words. The Dakar is a
Rally, which is different. It's arguably the toughest long-distance competition but it is a different type of competition.
The current off-road rally is taking place right now and it's the Rallye de Tunisie, which is over 2000km--definitely longer than the Baja
1000. Again, it's a "rally" and though many of the Stages are run at top speeds, each day consists of a Stage of about 250 km. It started April 3
and will finish April 11.
These longer rallies should take away nothing from the toughness of the Baja 1000, but, then, the B1K should take nothing away from riding or driving
in these off-road rallies which take place elsewhere.
