Saturday, February 28, 2009

Man pursuing Awesome (more old writing)

*snick*, the gear shift slides into 4th. The revs build. The mechanical din of engine noise steadily builds, mere inches behind my head, a beautiful symphony of metal, and petroleum products. The exhaust note builds to a shrieking crescendo, as two red needles sweep upwards in unison. An accelerator pedal is depressed to the floor, the wind rushes by, the scenery's all a blur, sweat drips down my heart beats...louder...and eyes water...every ounce of brain matter I possess is intently focused, concentrating on the road ahead, the cars behind, and my own car, listening to the roar of the 3.0litre Gurney-Weslake V12, feeling the road, the wheels occasionally skittering along the sometimes rough track, there isn't much r.oom for error at speeds upwards of 150 miles an hour, especially not in a 1967 Formula One car. There are no aerodynamic aids, minimal safety precautions, this is living on the edge, this is man pursuing awesome, this takes jupiter sized balls of steel. The track surface is riddled with bumps and holes, a driver has a one in three chance of dying every time he races. ... Why do I do it?...
Brake, downshift, the engine gurgles and spits, clip the apex, take the proper racing line, feel the rear end start to swing wide, counter steer, it snaps back, put your foot into it, watch the revs build, *snick* back up into fourth, *snick* up into fifth, a 12 cylinder orchestro roars behind my head building to a barrel-chested shrieking crescendo. The G-forces build as I pass 200 miles an hour on teh long back straight, The adrenaline rushes to my head, my palms sweat, my heart beats...louder, and louder...and louder. I crest the hill and feel the tires leave the ground, and the entire car is launched into the air, "Oh shit! This could go bad," The car hits the ground with an ominous thud and a very expensive sounding crack. The rear end breaks loose, "FUCK", I despearately try to regain control, fishtailing through the stretch, but its no use, the car goes into a spin the rear comes all the way aorund, "SHIT!", I clip another car and gain more speed, the car continuing to spin, once, twice, thrice, four times, "Oh shit, Oh shit, Oh shit, Oh shit!", I watch the world spin around, seemingly in slow motion as I relice what very well likely could happen. *Crack*, I hit a tree at 150 miles an hour. My nose catches the delightful smell of high-octane racing gas, oil, steel, a piston head's olfactory delight, a pleasant warmth envelopes me, "A pleasant warmth?, gasoline? SHIT!", flames erupt, brilliant orange, they engulf me..."OH SHIT I am going to die..."

1 comment:

  1. i remember hearing you read this in the Writing Center... good times