By Todd Walke
| The summer day dawns clear
and bright. Birds sing in the distance. Deer scamper through the trees.
A squirrel rests high on the faded, empty bleachers. The first rays of
sunlight strike the black ribbon of asphalt that threads through the lush forest. An
eerie fog rises off the pavement as the morning dew flashes into steam. The Mighty Warrior, proudly dressed in the red livery of Maranello, arrives at the track. Carbon fiber stretches tautly over her steel skeleton. Red paint glistens in the sunshine. Sunlight sparkles off of polished aluminum. As she pulls to a stop in the paddock, waves of heat rise from her body. The restrained pace she endures on the street does not satisfy her desire. Only a Challenge at the track will suffice. Only a Challenge will quell the need. Many warriors gather here this morning - to Challenge the track. To push man and machine to their limits - and maybe beyond. Her master departs to renew friendships with the other masters. She waits in silent anticipation - for today there will be a Challenge! Final checks are made. Tire pressures altered. Wheels torqued down. Fluids topped up. Shocks adjusted. Her master takes his place behind the wheel. Harnesses tightened, helmet and gloves strapped on. A passenger straps in for the ride. With a turn of the key, the Mighty Warrior comes alive - the Challenge is at hand! The Mighty Warrior impatiently idles in line, casting a wary glance at the other warriors that also wait their turn. Will any dare challenge her supremacy at the track today? Oil and water temperatures rise to normal levels. Electrons race through wires as sensors monitor and adjust her systems. Vibrations course through her whole body - what takes so long! Her master blips the throttle in eager anticipation. Finally! The marshall waves her onto the track. She lunges forward with glee. Her master gently restrains her from going flat out just yet for he knows that the first lap is needed to get tires and brakes up to working temperatures. He eases her moderately around the familiar terrain. The final turn of the warmup lap approaches. It is time for battle! The throttle is floored. Power flows mightily from the Warrior's 3 liter twin turbocharged V8. Air madly rushes into the intake, is compressed by the turbos, cooled by the intercoolers and forced harshly into the cylinders only to explode out into the exhaust in mad fury, wildly turning the turbos and launching out of the Tubi mufflers in an almighty banshee wail from hell. The Warrior squats down on her suspension and leaps forward in enthusiastic acceleration. The master coolly works the gearshift through its gate. Nearly 150 mph at the end of the straight! Barely lift for the turn 1 kink, then hard on the brakes for the left hand turn 2 carousel. The front end slithers side to side as the bumps upset her chassis under braking. Back on the throttle, tires struggling for grip on the exit and she launches down the steep hill known as the "Elevator". She moves to the left side of the track as the tight turn 3a approaches with astonishing rapidity. Back off the throttle - pop, pop, pop goes the wastegate. Pounce on the brakes, discs glowing as they struggle to convert speed into heat. Hard right, down to second gear. Exit the turn, then quickly to the right side of the track - turn 3b is just as tight. Hard left, careful with the throttle. And now - full power! Tires squeal as they struggle to put all 478 horsepower to the ground. Leaves on the track scatter in her wake. Her master moves quickly up through 3rd, then 4th gear. A short back straight, up a small rise and then back on the brakes - through the medium left turn 4 - watch the inside curb! Just a moment of hard throttle, then back off and setup for the right hand turn 5a/5b. Steering wheel to the right, a bit of throttle, then back off for the left hand and uphill turn 6. A small squeeze of brakes, down a gear, turn to the left - apply a bit of power, unwind the hands on the exit. Too much throttle! - the rear end slides a bit wide - the master calmly lifts off the gas pedal just a bit - traction returns - the Warrior straightens out. Back hard on the throttle, up the short straight. Turn 7 is a no-lift left flick. The big 180 degree turn 8, "little Indy" is next. Move over to the right side of the track, careful to get the right line, not too fast on the entry for the exit of this turn is crucial for top speed on the front straight. G forces build to maximum, wait on the throttle. Not yet...not yet. And now! - foot to the floor and she rockets out of 8 and into the quick right kink that is turn 9 and back onto the straight as she punches a 150mph hole in the air. And so it goes for lap and after lap. The stiff suspension that is so harsh on the street is at home here. No speed limits restrain her needs. No potholes jar her chassis. No traffic interferes with her movements. She is free. She is at home, content. And then it happens. Coming out of turn 9, power building in eager anticipation of more front straight speed. An minor error by the master? A failure in one of her many parts? A spot of oil or a few pebbles on the track? No one will ever know exactly why. The rear tires reach their maximum grip - and go beyond. The rear starts to come around to the left. The master desperately countersteers. Tires screech madly as they claw for grip. But the laws of physics cannot be denied. The rear swings madly to the right. The Warrior turns a lazy 180 and heads offtrack. There is no friendly grassy field or gravel trap waiting - only the brutal concrete barrier. The Warrior's right rear tire slams into the unyielding wall. The savage force cracks the spokes of the Speedline wheel cleanly in half. Control arms bend and twist. The strong steel skeleton deforms. Bodywork shatters. The fuel tank, though well protected, cannot resist the mighty impact. Fuel gushes onto the pavement and the red-hot exhaust. Fire explodes across the Warrior's flanks. The wounded Warrior slides to a grinding stop, fire and acrid black smoke billowing into the warm summer air. The master unhooks his harness, leaps from the car and frantically pulls his passenger to safety. Corner workers rush to the Warrior's aid, pouring water on her, but to no avail. The fire has too much fuel to burn as fuel, oil, tires and bodywork feed its uncaring hunger.
Finally the fire ceases. The Warrior lies dead, a smoking twisted mass of charred
steel, melted aluminum and blackened shards of carbon fiber. Though the impact
was great, she absorbed the brunt of the force and did her job: protecting her master.
Now she is a lifeless hulk, but her master goes on to fight another day. |