Divot
macOSA golf tracker for someone who wanted to log rounds without handing them to the cloud. Scorecards, clubs, practice, a handicap that follows the actual rules. All on your machine. All yours.
The road continues.
Different tools. Same hands. Building since 2011.
From RC chaos at county fairs to the work being built today.
It didn't start as a company. It started with a hobby that got out of hand — and never quite stopped.
It started in September 2010 with a small RC track at a local fair — a fleet of monster trucks, Traxxas Slashes, Bandits and Stampedes for fairgoers to drive and experience firsthand. By the end of the event we had a three-foot-high pile of broken RC trucks stacked behind the stand: worn out, destroyed, completely unusable. It was chaos, exhausting, and one of the most fun things we'd ever created — and it became the foundation of what would become Road and Rock. Watching kids and adults light up driving those trucks for the first time — that was the part that made the rest inevitable.
Road and Rock officially launched and expanded to 12 fairs across Central Pennsylvania. We were never a large company, but we had a lot of help from family and friends — especially my wife and kids, who still joke about how their shins hurt from turn-marshalling RC trucks at the fairs for hours at a time. Those years created countless memories, friendships, and experiences that still mean a great deal to us today.
Road and Rock evolved beyond fairs toward company events, college events, birthday parties, and private RC experiences. The events were successful and incredibly rewarding — but my own inexperience in managing and growing a business eventually led to the company winding down by 2014.
Even after Road and Rock closed as an event company, the passion for RC engineering and design continued. I kept the registration active while launching Rally Frames — a custom RC manufacturing company focused on specialized parts and engineering for RC monster trucks. Projects included:
Rally Frames eventually closed due to technical and operational challenges — but it reinforced something that still defines Road and Rock: a passion for building things, solving problems, and creating experiences people remember.
Road and Rock didn't end when the events did, or when Rally Frames closed. It just changed shape.
Same person. Same hands. Same instinct to start something, see it through, and try to leave it better than it started. The tools are different now — software, golf trackers, databases, hardware experiments, the next thing — but the work is the same work. The common thread isn't RC cars or code. It's building, and not stopping.
Different tools. Same hands. Still building.
A handful of finished projects. Each one made for a real reason. Each one shipped, used, and still in service.
A golf tracker for someone who wanted to log rounds without handing them to the cloud. Scorecards, clubs, practice, a handicap that follows the actual rules. All on your machine. All yours.
A way to compile one person's life into a single self-contained HTML file — built to be opened 250 years from the day it's sealed. Timeline, photos, citations, all inlined. The kind of project that only makes sense if you take the long view.
Built to follow one team, one season, one game at a time — no ads, no sportsbook, no algorithm deciding what matters. Schedule, scores, the line score, and the win probability if you want it.
A catalog for a model train collection that outgrew the spreadsheet it was living in. Roster, road names, details — kept on the same machine the trains sit next to.
A lending library for a nonprofit model-railroad club. Members borrow, return, and trust each other. Built to replace a binder, and to let the librarian stop thinking about updates.
For people who live in their data. Multiple connections, multiple tabs, no cloud. Built because the existing tools were either bloated, paid, or both.
Plus a few half-finished prototypes, abandoned experiments, and ideas waiting for their week.
Every project comes from the same place — a workshop, a stubborn habit of finishing things, and a few rules that keep the work honest.
One person. One project at a time. Designed, built, and finished end to end — no team, no committee, no shareholder calendar. The tools change to fit the job. Sometimes Swift. Sometimes Electron. Sometimes CAD, a 3D printer, or a sheet of graph paper. The discipline doesn't change.
These are the rules. Everything else is style.
Short writing on building things — software, machines, projects, lessons, and the patience to finish what gets started.
Origin notes — chaos, scale, and what one weekend at a county fair taught me about finishing what gets started.
Family at the corners, watching real people fail at the same hairpin in real time. The best user research I never paid for.
The hardest part of any project — RC, software, or otherwise — isn't starting. A few notes on shipping the thing.
More on the way. Follow along on GitHub
Stop by with a question, an idea, or just to talk shop. I read every note.