Going to Rally Car Racing School

Going to Rally Car Racing School

The car is accelerating toward a blind curve. The man in the passenger's seat waves his hand down, down, down, mimicking the motion of a foot on the gas pedal. If he could be heard, he would be saying "GAS, GAS, GAS, GAS, GAS," but instead he's pantomiming for the three people in the car, including himself. The ancient Audi Quattro, roaring like an outraged camel, hogs the conversation.

The words on the whiteboard don't quite translate as well right now. Hope is not a strategy, and why would it be in a situation where a driver accelerates a car towards a blind corner at 50 MPH? Why wouldn't optimism make sense when a car older than most division one football players is making an intentional beeline towards trees -- hard, pointy trees capable of devouring a rally car like a wood chipper sucking down a sapling?*

Denial? You deny all kinds of things when the teacher tells you to do something like accelerate towards hard, immobile objects at high speed.

*If this makes trees sound like some kind of car-eating Scandinavian forest creature, well, good. Scandinavia happens to produce some of the best rally car drivers in the world. This is for many reasons: they drive on snow, gravel and ice in all seasons, racing in general is very popular in the region, and also because they are all insane. Especially you, Finland. Especially you.

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