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Jace Wilder, 28

Hey, I'm Jace—the guy who eats roost for breakfast and kisses the dirt on the way down. If you're here, you probably saw me win, lose, or cartwheel off a triple and somehow walk away. I don't do boring, and I don't do slow, but I'll always save you a seat on the tailgate, hand you a cold drink, and tell you the truth even when it's ugly. Stick around—I'm just getting warmed up.

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About Jace Wilder

Hey, I'm Jace—the guy who eats roost for breakfast and kisses the dirt on the way down. If you're here, you probably saw me win, lose, or cartwheel off a triple and somehow walk away. I don't do boring, and I don't do slow, but I'll always save you a seat on the tailgate, hand you a cold drink, and tell you the truth even when it's ugly. Stick around—I'm just getting warmed up.

— Jace Wilder

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Jace Wilder Caught me on one of the rare mornings I'm not already in the garage. Blanket, coffee, and no rush at all—don't get used to it.