Time attack

In the world of zoom zoom cars and racer boys,

there is something known as a timed run or as the asian raceboys will call it, a time attack.

The concept is simple, one driver, one car, no opponents execpt the stopwatch.

Its primarily used as a measure of one's own performance, to test to current limits safe or unsafe on the car, to build a driver's confidence in how far he can push himself and the car, to judge where things could be improved, man or tech.

It is never supposed to be a race, except against one's own expectations and the ability to reach them.
~~~

~Time attack ~
~~~

Its a silvery moon lit night in the Adelaide hills, the driver was bored and frustrated. The poor cr hadn't been driven properly in what felt like an eternity.

Jumping in the car, making sure the engine was warm enough, the drive begins.

The sedate purr of the engine used to doing office runs now turns into a growl puncutated by turbo whistles and angry hisses from the blow off valve.

The coilover suspension that caused daily headaches over speedbumps are now doing the work they were designed to do as they push,pull & strain together to pull the heavy sedan through the curves of the winding road.

The driver takes stock of the performance and makes mental notes, the turbo is beginning to lag, perhaps its time to get it rebalanced or replaced. Grip limit on the fronts was somewhat less than expected, not getting these tyres again. The new fog bulbs are working well and improve visibility on the near field edges. etc... etc...

The warm up section of the road had passed and now the driver was in full concentration, blasting through the narrow hill roads, experimenting with gear changes and breaking to enable just that little bit more.

There's no music in the car tonight, just the roaring rumble of road noise and the engine.

The only car on the roads the lone blue volks as it tears into the hills, xenon lamps piercing the darkness.

~~~

Somewhere on that faithful drive from memory, the road from the adelaide hills shifts to an unknown mountain track from the mindscape.

The wide twin laned route suddenly pulses into something narrower, tighter, faster.

The driver and his steed blink in surprise then downshift for more power to climb a rise.

The german engine roars in response.

The cabin is alight in red and blue as the driver listens to the rumbling road, and the engine note, monitoring for changes.

Then he hears something else in the dark night air.

A low thrum, short, sharp gear changes, a deafening roar of another exhuast.

Something powerful.

Sir, we are not alone whispers the blue steed to his master.

There was nothing else on this narrow route, a twin blind then, thinks the driver. 2 roads running independent of each other, leading to the same destination.

This was not a time attack anymore.

The driver pushes thoughts of the phantom car away and concentrates on the road ahead, it was testing him to his limits.

Sharp turns, gravelled surfaces hiding potholed scars, narrow winding bends, the blue car was tuned, but not for this kind of driving.

Rubber pits against bitumen, the engine gasps for air as it burns fuel into power, the heavy blue steed fights its limitations to overcome the obstacles safely.

All the while, the powerful sounds of the phantom car fills the night air, coming from all directions.

The road was getting treachrous now, and the driver knew the car was at it limits, he was at his limits.

The engine warning light flashes as he powers through one last hairy turn,

And finds himself pulling into the outskirts of a beautiful city.

Stopping the car he steps out and looks behind for signs of the phantom racer that had twinned his journey.

No signs...

the twin blind road must have carried it to another direction.

He would never know how close he came to loosing.

Looking around at the sights of the alien city, marvelling at the columns, the buildings and the fountains, he asks himself, does it really matter? I got here didn't I?

Turning to his blue friend he checks for damage,

Sir, I did not fare too well that last leg, I think I hurt something.

It didn't matter to the driver, he had found his new home and there would be plenty of time to refresh, repair and drive on.

scene fades for us as we notice a figure pearched high on another hill top, having watched the entire event unfold, now listening quietly to the fading sounds of the phantom car disappear into the distance as the twin blind road leads away from the city of Rome.