“Wanna drive the corvette?” Those were the words that voiced my dad’s solution to teaching me how to drive a manual transmission. It was on this day that my dad set in stone my future addiction to high speed, high performance vehicles. Since that day I have owned a whole stable of cars, some shitty some cool, but regardless of there physical ability I have beaten and driven every single one of them to its limit, sometimes resulting in its death. Regardless of the car I love the feeling of driving cars, the sense of freedom it gives me is unmatched by anything else. I don’t mean driving to the grocery store and back, but a passionate drive; driving as one with the car. It is the one activity I love doing more than anything and it is these events in my past that have sealed my fate as a motorhead.
Obtaining triple digit speeds is a feeling like no other feeling. Adrenaline pumps through your body, saturating your brain and twisting your vision into a streaming tunnel. Taking a car to its physical limit is one of my passions. Since i was a child I wanted to be a race car driver. I have had a fascination with cars ever since i could talk. the primary culprit in feeding my high octane fire was my father. before i even obtained my license my father made true one of my dreams. my father owns a 350 horsepower, v8 powered, american legend; a corvette. while my dad saw it as a wicked tool to teach his son how to drive a manual transmission, the event would lead to much more. ever since that day i have been a passionate driver. i love the feeling of being one with a high performance vehicle, or any vehicle for that matter. i love pushing a car to its physical limits, unleashing its inner beast, unleashing my inner beast.
my knuckles turn white as i grip the steering wheel; reigns on my iron horse. my other hand holds the shift knob; my whip, used to lash more speed out of my steed at will. my feet carefully rest upon the pedals; spurs ready to extract the power within. ever since i recieved my license i have loved speed. not senseless speed like most of the brainless sixteen year old kids liked. i desired more; finess, skill, passion. i desired, no, needed the feeling obtained from driving a vehicle to its absolute limit. exhausting its every ability. but this was not a need of mine by nature. it was like an addiction, fed by events throughout my life. my father is by nature a motor head. while most other kids were learning to drive in their parents mini vans and commuter cars, the story was very different for me. “wanna drive the vette?” these words are seldom heard by a sixteen year old and my answer was obvious. i believe this was the day that truly set in stone my need for speed. a need that could only be fulfilled with high performance vehicles. i can still vividly remember the first time my dad let me pilot one of his faster cars alone.
100 mph; the turbocharger propelled the trans am faster and faster like the turbine engine of an airplane. the whine of the turbo and roar of the exhaust filled the cabin of the car. 120 mph; my vision narrowed in on the road ahead; the objects alongside the road dissappeared in a blur of color like an abstract painting. 130 mph; my adrenaline levels skyrocketed, almost making time stand still. 140; this was the last time i looked down at the speedometer. losing focus at this point could be fatal. i was running out of road fast, a sharp ninety degree turn lay ahead. tearing my foot from the throttle, i eased into the brakes. the high performace carbon brake pads bit into the twelve inch, slotted, racing rotors like a pitbull tearing into steak. the deceleration was flawless, the immense stopping power felt like i had hit a brick wall. the four point harness held my body tight, fighting the g forces. it was all over. i sat there letting my adrenaline levels reach equilibrium once againim. a chill went down my back. im not quite sure what the maximum speed that i obtained was exactly, but it was the fastest i had ever traveled by car.
the way the car sat, its aggressive stance and sloping sporty shape, told you it ached for speed. it was built with one purpose in mind; performance. the wide z rated tires wrapped around le mans style eighteen inch wheels connected connected it to the pavement. the sport tune suspension made sharp turns and slaloms look like childs play. a 3.8 liter, turbocharged motor lived beneath the hood. i stood back admiring the car, a true performance vision come true. i looked at my dad, a big grin sat on his face. he reached in his pocket and tossed the keys to me. before us lied about a mile stretch of perfectly paved, perfectly straight road. the car almost seemed to being eyeing up the road with the same vicious intent as i was. i crawled into the cockpit and started the motor. the engine had a low tone, stealthy exhaust, one that hid the power within from the outside world. i looked at my dad once more and he gave me a look like “why are still sitting there?” so i turned my attention to the runway in front of me. i spooled the turbo, the motor reached 3500 rpm, the exhaust like a panther growling before the killing strike. i released the brake. the acceleration was intense; a feeling like the first decent of a roller coaster. i could here the turbo whistling like the turbine engine of a jet. the road in front of me seemed to stretch out before me; a side effect of the adrenaline pumping through my veins, speeding up my heart and developing tunnel vision. the surrounding countryside became nothing more than an abstract painting. a quick glance at the speedometer told me i had already broken the 120 mph mark in about on quarter mile. my focus returned to the road, my foot remained planted on the throttle, and my hands were locked to the steering wheel in a death grip. a second glance down showed the 140 mph mark; the fastest i had ever traveled in a car. i looked back to the road and saw it. my road was coming to an end and ahead sat a wicked ninety degree turn. my foot instinctually jumped to the brake, laying in to it with as much pressure as i could without locking the brakes. the twelve inch rotors and carbon brakes knew the drill. the car decelerated as if it had just hit a lake. my body wanted to fly forward, stopped by the harness holding me in. the tunnel i seemed to be in widened and my surroundings became solid again. my ride came to a halt faster than it had begun. i sat there recovering from the adrenaline surge, the turn in the road sat only a mere sixty feet away. the car was back at idle, as though it had only been on a stroll through the park. i had felt what the beast was capable of and i was satisfied.
