Origin Story
I needed something to build.
That demanded discipline, curiosity and commitment. The car was the entry point. Autocross became track days. Track days became late nights refining setup, systems, and skill.
My wife recognized the potential.
She encouraged me to document the journey, share what I learned and bring our sons into the process.
Improvements became a lessons. Lessons grew participation.
We sat down as a family to come up with a name – the boys went first.
One suggested a Rhino because of my wrinkles.
Another compared the horn to my nose.
A third pointed out that Rhinos sprint in short bursts—like a racecar.
The last brother said, “Rhinos can’t see well, just like someone who wears thick glasses.”
There was a pause—the kind where a joke becomes truth – Blind Rhino.
We needed a logo
So my youngest—our artist—sketched a rhino with broken lines and uneven curves. Imperfect. Human. Exactly what it needed to be. We refined it, but kept its soul.
The simple lines became the identity—the way every family story should.
Blind Rhino grew from there.
Helmets instead of faces. Stories instead of selfies. Clarity instead of noise.
The car wasn’t the story. It was simply the beginning.
The real story became the family learning to build, film, create, and grow together—capturing progress one upgrade, one frame, and one lap at a time.
