6 Nov 2008
“Three, two, one go.” Right foot down, left foot coming up and then down and change and right foot down and grin. Dust plume behind, track in front. Intense acceleration.
“Easy left, leading fifty metres to right ninety degrees….” Steering wheel throwing the car from verge to verge. Flying up and down the gears. Small straight; “Hundred metres.” Time enough to blink.
“Hard left, 50 metres, hard right…shit, potholes.” The car takes off repeatedly, the map pen flying on its string, and teeth chatter.
“Hard left, you’ve go to be joking, easy left.” Slight steering change (no problemo) and it’s into the left, tapping the break, feeling the sideways momentum, gliding around.
“Skin up. I need smoke!”
“Straight, 100 metres, leading upto 90 right.”
“Look, I’m driving; I can’t skin up. Skin up.”
“Seriously man…watch-out-the-deer! Jesus!” Car slides right fractionally. More revs and it’s back on course for the moon.
“Straight. 200 metres. Well, have you got any rizlas?”
“Baccy? Smoke? Lighter? Roach?”
“This is going to be rather taxing. 90 right leading to easy right then hard left.”
“Shite. Helmets. We can’t smoke because of the helmets.”
“Close the windows and burn the herb. Hot box!”
“That’s a fine idea…hard left, hard left, hard left!”