Two right, over crest forty into hairpin left, caution tree outside into square right, definitely don't cut, tightens, narrows. You find the sweet spot of the clutch, first gear ready to engage the second you release the handbrake.Ī cloud over the dusty gravel forming behind the car, you disappear into the night, the drop to your left illuminated by your one remaining headlamp. You remember to breathe for the first time since the countdown began.
It only has to hold for another twenty kilometres, one last performance before the bliss of the service area allows it to rest in peace. The turbo, once giving a sweet whistle, now lets out an exhausted whine. You tease the throttle with your right foot, the roar of the engine echoing off the nearby rocks and trees like a feral animal about to tear itself from it's leash. The handbrake vibrates, as if a poisonous adder ready to strike being held at bay by your steely grip. Even through the in ear monitor, your co-driver's voice is muffled by the bullets of water being fired against the windscreen of your four wheel drive hatchback.
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