About Off Com

The Desert as Sanctuary

Growing up in Colorado, I've always been drawn to the great wide open. That desire to explore. The feeling of looking off into the distance and seeing a trail cutting up a mountain and thinking — I want to see what the world looks like from up there. Off-road has always given me something I couldn't name for a long time. A sense of peace. A feeling of liberty that brings clarity. It's a place where I can breathe.

The Dark Season

When I started working on this idea, I was at the trailhead of my life in more ways than one. My wife and I were living landlocked by farms in West Chicago — far from anything I knew as home. It was a dark place spiritually. I felt displaced. I knew, the way you just know sometimes, that it wasn't where God wanted me. I was running from something I couldn't fully describe yet.

The Moment Everything Shifted

Then Greg Foutz and the Ford Performance engineers invited me out to a Best in the Desert race in Pahrump, Nevada — racing the Gen 2 Raptor prototype in the open desert. It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't the appeal of the material that pulled me out of the darkness. It was the ingenuity. The creativity. The warm chili at the BF Goodrich pit. The banter on the radio. And then — a trophy truck descending on that terrain at 120 miles an hour, a plume of dust behind it like a rocket heading into low earth orbit.

I grew up watching Top Gun wanting to fly — wanting to launch off a carrier in an F-14. And in that moment, watching that truck, I felt it. That same awe. That same sense that something extraordinary was happening in an ordinary place. The desert became my flight deck.

What I Found in the Pit

What I noticed wasn't just the race. It was the spirit of the people around it. The community that showed up when a small race team needed a tire changed to get back on track. Nobody asked. Somebody just did it. That kind of gratitude — the kind that acts without thinking — was something I wanted to be part of forever. Not just attend. Build something around.

Off Com Is the Vessel. Not the Destination.

My truck was always an expression of my identity — the builders who touched it, the manufacturers who made the parts, the people who helped me get it across terrain it had no business crossing. Wanting to honor those builders wasn't a business idea. It was gratitude made into software.

Off Com is just the vessel. My story is the mission. And if you're reading this late at night in a moment of reflection, I want you to know — there is more to the story. More than what meets the eye. More than the parts list and the finish line. There is a spirit that unites every person ascending toward theirs.