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The Great Automation Run | Chapter 16 and final results!


#502

As Walter continued his relentless journey towards Athens, he realized that his lightly modified Guardsman would have trouble keeping up on the wide-open freeways outside Milan, but he persevered. At least this was an easy stretch of road, but the Alpine passes in Switzerland were anything but. Fortunately, his car was drivable enough to make it out of this section unscathed. However, the increased police presence was more of a hazard this time.

Despite everything, Walter was enjoying the breathtaking alpine vistas, but no sooner had he taken in the view than he heard reports of gunfire at a roadblock. Apparently it was the result of police action against street racers… but he was so far back that he was not as much of a threat as the front-runners. By the time he encountered another roadblock, he was relieved to find it in pieces, penetrated by those in front of him. He soon made it to Stuttgart - but even though he had been driving for several thousand kilometers, there was still a long way to go…

And so, filled with renewed resolve, he pressed on along the Autobahn, knowing that his superiors were following his every move.


#503

Cindy turned out to be right as she sped off following the strange truck driver ramming them past border security. “2nd save by a mysterious stranger thus far. Maybe this race isn’t as hidden as I thought. Especially if that damn helicopter keeps finding us…” The 3.3 roared as she downshifted to pass a mess of stunned cops.

Over the scanner, she could hear chatter about alerting border agents across the EU. “I knew it. And I don’t know how many more times we’re gonna get lucky like that.” She hits the next button on the radio as she chugs her 4th cup of coffee that day.


#504

Otis slowed down as he came into Milan, the exhaust popping loudly. People were already lining the streets by the time he got there due to the racket from the mix of exotic, tuned, and even pure race bred cars that were ahead of him they new something was up. Jake was sniffing the air, even Otis could smell the food being cooked in the fancy looking restaurants. People were staring, some with disgust, others with confusion. The truck didn’t sound like the typical American loping hot rodded V8, it sounded almost Italian super-car with its V12, but definitely didn’t look the part.

Otis has the windows down, left arm in the window smiling with his old hat on, Jake with his front paws on the window cill twisting his head around stiffing in different directions as they went through the city center. At a stop light an amused bystander offers Jake a bite of food which he gladly takes.

Things were too quiet, even when they passed the police station all the police did was look with expressions of WTF.

At the Swiss border things returned to normal with police cars trying futily to chase down cars that were significantly faster than them. Then the tone changed, the police were targeting the leaders with guns, busted tire parts were all over the road, the ones he ran over slammed into the undercarriage of the truck almost inaudible over the engine.

Otis approached what used to be a roadblock, something big had gone through smashed police cars littered the roadway. Otis tried to swerve through the chaos, but was moving too fast hand had to hit the brakes. The back end slid out forcing and unintended 180, Otis tried to grab a lever to put it into 4hi and have the front pull him out of the skid, it wasn’t there, they had removed those parts in order to lighten the truck. The hole in front got closed up by a mix of racers and police scrambling about. The way behind was still clear so he threw it in reverse, once clear he spun the truck back around and worked on getting back to the main track.

The police scanner crackled to life, Otis not knowing the language was only able to pick out the words Brussels and Euro-order, whatever they were saying didn’t sound good.


#505

(I’ll try to bump the publishing pace like this so that I don’t lose momentum and I can finish this challenge soon. If everything goes according to what I expect, we’re this episode and another one away from Greece. I’ve finally automatized the spreadsheet 100%, so there’s that as well.)

Chapter 13: Contrast.


Outside Stuttgart, Germany, 21:52. 8th of October 1995. 3050km to Athens.
The google maps route can be seen here.

The darkness of the night was being projected over the Autobahn, in contrast with the humble light the streetlamps gave to at least give the drivers a sense of safety. The drivers had just escaped from the police, so their plan changed until things cooled down: they would avoid any major city. Fortunately, traffic was finally dissappearing from the highways due to the day coming to a close, but sixteen hours of racing were starting to pay a heavy toll on the racers.


(Musical suggestion by @ramthecowy!)

Special rule: fatigue 1. An extra drivability roll will be done. If you don’t pass it, the driver will have a close call which will make you lose time.

The Cannonero was quickly losing terrain to the Bonham and the Evo; it wouldn’t be long until both cars passed it, taking the first and second place. However, now that the Bonham was in fighting range, the Evo drafted past it, taking the lead effectively, taking advantage of some swaying the lime green wagon had done, presumably due to fatigue. Meanwhile, the Dolphine was claiming its place back from the Blood Eagle, drafting past it as well.

The Autobahn, despite the fatigue and low visibility due to the hour, was the perfect place for the drivers to squeeze the maximum potential from their cars, while not raising any eyebrows as there was no speed limit there. Everything would be fine until the Polish border and as long as they didn’t enter any cities.

The Kanata took advantage of the Borhs as it took the interior during one of the turns, forcing the latter to take a wider line. With that, the Outlaw took the place, leaving the Bohrs behind. Meanwhile, the T25 was back at it, threatening the Kiito with its size, forcing the sports car to leave it pass them.

But as the minutes went on, it became clearer and clearer that they were running out of Autobahn. Soon they would have to cross the Polish border, and who knew what was waiting for them at the other side. In the meantime, the Tsukuba passed the Scagliatti after a few attempts from the later to block the white car, but failing after a dummy overtake. The Visios tried to overtake the Guardsman, failing to do so.

The Evo was the one to smash through the border as they reached it this time. Without thinking twice, all of the cars quickly followed the hole in the barrier, with the alarms going off. This was about to get hairy. The Chevalier climbed a few places before it started threatening the Barracuda GT, which was having none of it, blocking all the attempts from the police car.

The drivers of the Montauk then noticed that an helicopter was following the group as they passed Katowice. Its emblems were not distinguishable as the darkness camouflaged the vessel, but soon…the highway started getting flooded by police cars with their lights on, in sizeable numbers.

The Interval now started dancing around them, trying to stop the racers at any price. The drivers understood that this time, the police meant business. All of the racers rushed towards Krakow. They would soon be out of Poland and into East Europe, but…would they survive to escape the country?

To be continued.


Times spreadsheet:



#506

Marcus kept his foot in it, the XR-3 blaring out a pounding beat as the tri-cylinder terror tried to shake the car apart. The tape recorder was locked safely away in the center console, not that it would’ve mattered much, it was far too loud in there to use it at that time. The violent vibrations vigorously shook the carton of beer in the back, and soon after, there were exploding beer bottles and a river of foam and liquid running all over the interior of the car.

“Fuck you!” he yelled, glaring in the rear view mirror. “That was good German beer!” He could see an ancient shitbox behind him, the Communitasia with Soviet Russia’s finest racing engine, and decided to hurl the contents of the beer case out the window in hopes of causing some chaos.

Marcus fired the roaring menace through the hole in the barrier at the border, the engine barking and clapping, spitting fire out of the up-turned rear exhausts.


#507

Team Angus - Chapter Thirteen

Team Bio
Team Angus - Chapter 12
GAR - Chapter 13

It was just past Stuttgart when we lost contact with the Chevallier; we hit the Autobahn and the big sedan just pulled away! No matter how much Ben floored the accelerator we just couldn’t keep up. The poor aero of the Bushranger combined with the weight of our extra gear meant that our vmax was insufficient to keep up with, let alone pass anyone…

The rest of Germany was uneventful; empty roads and encroaching darkness were the only constants as we hurtled towards the Polish border. When Valerie realised we were headed into Poland she became visibly uncomfortable, like she’d eaten undercooked chicken.

V: “Merde!!! I didn’t realise we were headed into Poland; there’s people there I’d rather not have to deal with”

S: ‘becomes attentive’ “Same people who supplied you with those weapons?”

V: “Not really, but their bosses would contract out my services every once in a while…”

B: “What the fuck does that mean!?!?”

V: “It means that if we get caught by the Polish authorities we could find ourselves in a lot of hot water!”

S: “Great, just great! … New plan: Don’t get caught!”

V: “Agreed”

B: ‘sighs then yawns’ “Agreed!”

As we came to the Polish border Valerie went to hide her carbine when it became obviously clear that no-one would be stopping at this border crossing either.

B: “What’s with this race and border crossings anyway? We’re gonna be in so much trouble when we reach Greece”

S: “At least our next movie will be a smash hit! Geddit, smash? Hahahaha…”

V: “That was lamer than a man with no leg! Your pun license is now hearby revoked!”

B: “Oooh snap!!!”

S: “Sticks and stones may break my bones… You guys are just jealous that’s all”

Suddenly, after passing into Poland, Sooty hissed; trouble was nearby! The highway then immediately lit up with flashing lights and sirens, there were cop cars everywhere!!!

B: ‘PIT’s a cop car ahead’ “No way bozo, I’m not slowing down for anyone!”

V: “These are State police; they’ll torture us then kill us!!! ‘shoots tyres of cop car next to us’ pull no punches or else we’re done for!”

S: “Stay down Sooty, you don’t want to get shot…”

Sy: “Meow”

As we headed for Krakow, Ben weaving through patrol cars and Valerie shooting at the ones that get too close, we hoped that we’d find sanctuary further East; we weren’t wanted everywhere, right? RIGHT!?!?

Soon, perhaps too soon, we were going to find out!

TO BE CONTINUED


#508

Cath and Julia’s Slightly Illegal Grand Tour of Europe - Part 6!

Two middle aged women, a boot full of booze and an Erin Scarlet!

Original Post - Previous Post


“Macadamias or Cashews?” asked Cath, facing towards Julia who sat comfortably behind the wheel of the Scarlet.

“Cashews, darling” Julia replied, “they’re supposed to be great for menopause symptoms”.

“Really? Where’d you read that?” Cath replied, opening the bag and snagging a few for herself.

“GoodHousekeeping” replied Julia.

“Oh, no surprises there” said Cath. Those two trusted that magazine like it was their bible.

On the Autobahn, the Scarlet felt comfortable, but not at home. It was great driving quickly, but it was clear that it wasn’t made to cruise. It needed some more difficult and more complex roads once in a while, just for good measure. After all, that was what the car was built to tackle in the first place.

Alas, they were in short supply for some time yet. Not that there was anything wrong with cruising along at a hairswidth below the car’s 150 mph top speed…


#509

team Marx

Lenin: we seem to be losing places.

Marx: indeed.

Lenin: and not much else seems to happen.

Marx: indeed.

Lenin:…

Marx:…

Lenin:…

Marx: throws middle finger to sky

GOD: what was that for?

Marx: no particular reason.


#510

On a stretch of derestricted Autobahn, Walter was once again able to exploit the Guardsman’s straight-line performance. However, it was rather limited compared to many of the other cars which entered this race, although being lighter than stock certainly helped. Still, even though the sun had long since set, Walter was relishing the opportunity to feel like Michael Schumacher charging hard along the long straights of the Hockenheimring. Given that there was no possibility of police intervention, Walter easily maintained a steady speed of over 150 mph for extended periods of time.

Shortly after entering Poland, he got a rude awakening from a police chopper. He knew that it was trying to coordinate the ground units that were approaching the pack of racers. This seemed like a chance to utilize his defensive driving skills and make an escape. But would it work? For now, evading the cops would override his priority of getting a good finish.


#512

Chapter 14: Outrun.


Outside Krakow, Poland, 02:59. 9th of October 1995. 1982km to Athens.
The google maps route can be seen here.

The racers started turning soutbound, in an attempt to avoid the police that was still following them. Their target: getting to Greece before the police could catch them.


(Musical suggestion by @Mikonp7!)

(Special rule: b routes. If the police focuses too much on one driver (doesn’t pass a drivability check) they will have to find a b route, losing some time in the process.)

The Bonham was too focused on avoiding the police to be able to try and close the stretch between it and the Evo. If that wasn’t enough, the roads were becoming twistier and twistier, with the driver having to not only keep their car under control but also their awareness of the police. This eventually overwhelmed the driver, and as soon as the group reached Gronków, the Bonham detoured through Lesnica. The green lime wagon managed to get rid of the police and rejoined the group after the border with Slovakia was crossed. The drivers of the Evo and the Bonham switched places, with the Bonham, however, only 5 seconds in front of the Evo, which wasn’t giving up yet.

With the police still following the group, they found why the roads were becoming twistier and twistier: they were going directly towards the Národný park montains. The group entered a mountain pass, where the Maesima overtook the Bohrs during one of the hairpins. There, the Guardsman also took advantage of the twisty environment to overtake the Visios and the Perenne as well.

The police units were starting to show uncapable of keeping up, some of them dropping out of the pursuit; not before forcing the Friala to detour, though, as they reached Brezno. The roads became less and less twisty gradually, allowing the 219+13 to stretch its legs and get behind the Fatalita, starting a exotic car duel. In the meantime, the Chevallier drafted behind the Barracuda, getting up to speed and overtaking it, but not before some paint sharing again. The racers smashed through the border with Hungary, the border officials informed too late that the racers were going southbound.

The racers avoided Budapest, from which more police cars joined the pursuit. The chaos was starting to break out between the different police cars, some of them crashing into each other. This allowed the racers to have some margin to breath, but the pursuit was far from over.

The Serbian border was the next to be crossed. The racers were still pursued by the police cars that still had some fuel range to keep up, while others were outran or started to run out of gas. Little cars were still in pursuit by the time the racers crossed the Danube. Those who had a police scanner picked this up:

Policeman: “We lost them. We’re retreating.”

Other policeman: “Last known direction?”

Policeman: “Southbound. Either towards Macedonia or Bulgaria.”

Other policeman: “We’ll inform the borders. This is getting outta hand.”

The racers chose to go through Bulgaria. Some more police cars rejoined the pursuit at the border, but they were unable to chase the racers. Only the Bushranger and the Barracuda were forced to change their route; the last stretch before Greece was mostly twisty, where the Dolphine managed to extend its advantage in front of the Fatalita and the 219.

The last few minutes of Bulgaria felt tense to all of the racers. They didn’t know what would wait for them at Greece, only that Athens was roughly 700km away at that point. Consumed by the fatigue, but kept aware by the threat of the police ambushing them, some of the drivers cracked an energy drink open, while others lit a cigarette up whenever they found a stretch safe enough to do so.

Then the Greek border became visible in the horizon.

To be continued.


Times spreadsheet:



#513

Team Angus - Chapter Fourteen

Team Bio
Team Angus - Chapter 13
GAR - Chapter 14

Poland proved to be a bust; too many cops and too much chaos. Upon reaching Krakow we turned south so we could try and lose the police in Hungary instead. Unfortunately all that was achieved was a smashed border post and two different flavours of police cars mixing together the same way Coke and Mentos mints do…

There was nothing for us to do but run for Hungary’s southern border, shared with Serbia, and hope that the police gave up the chase. They didn’t, of course, only stopping the chase when they ran out of fuel! Serbia was almost as bad for us, we were able to reach the border with Bulgaria unscathed, but a last minute road-block on the Serbian side of the border saw us having to take the long way via a ‘B’ road, losing us precious time.

As we approached the border to Greece, Ben and I shared a significant look; the end of the race was at hand. We needed that money and we needed it bad. What difficulties would Greece reveal and was there any hope of our team actually winning this thing, or would we be selling the Bushranger to be able to get home…

TO BE CONTINUED


#514

In Poland, the police presence was much heavier than it had been at any previous point in the race. But as Walter saw the mountains of the national park come into view, he saw an opportunity to evade the cops on the increasingly twisty roads. He did just that, and promptly overtook the Visios and Perenne in the process. However, the high-speed sections that followed exposed the Guardsman’s relative lack of straight-line pace, although it still held its own with ease. As Walter drove on through the night and across several borders, his adrenaline was pumping, partially negating the fatigue that had been bothering him lately.

By the time he got to Bulgaria, the situation was as tense as it had ever been. Walter decided to up the stakes by pushing harder through the night. The strategy paid dividends; he did not have to take a detour en route to the Greek border. Meanwhile, the racers ahead of him fought over the top placings as if there was no tomorrow.

The race had gone well for him so far. No, he hadn’t managed to work his way very far up the field, but given the presence of several highly tuned machines, the lack of progress was basically a given. Even so, anything could happen in the last few hundred miles, and to fail to finish now would be a huge disappointment. So Walter decided not to take too many unnecessary risks on the rest of the route, and concentrate on reaching the finish line.


#515

Jorma was awakened from his slumber when Teuvo shook him and yelled: “Jorma, I need you!” “Wha-? Is something wrong?” Jorma answered while still being half asleep. “I need you to spot traffic and cops, especially from our rear flanks! I need to concentrate on the road ahead!”

The men made an excellent team. While Jorma spotted the cars and read them like pace notes, Teuvo could concentrate fully on the driving. However, soon enough they felt a harsh bump from the rear which sent them into a spin. Teuvo was able to recover and keep driving straight but he noticed how the car was veering to the right and felt less powerful. “Goddamnit, someone shunted us! That bastard… Something broke, I can feel it. We need to stop.”

By the side of the road, Jorma immediately noticed what was wrong: their rear-right wheel was pointing to the left. Jorma quickly took the wheel off, saw bent suspension work and cursed heavily. “We need spares… We need to keep driving and hope to God that the next service station has the parts we need.”

Luckily, the next service station was close and happened to stock the parts that the men needed. Jorma was able to quickly change the bent parts to new ones while Teuvo filled up the car and bought some goods. “I got us some of these energy drinks. I hear they’re all the rage.”

The men were able to race through the rest of the stint without too many complications. Soon they realized that the race was starting to be at its last legs. “We’ll be crossing the border to Greece soon. Ahh, I’ve been waiting for this”, Teuvo told, seemingly relaxed. “The land of Socrates, Souvlaki, and Ouzo. Trust me, I’m not going to leave as soon as the race ends. I’m going to stay here for… Well, at least a month.” Jorma didn’t answer, as he was pondering what he would do. With silence inside the car, Teuvo pushed the gas pedal to the floor and the car rode into the sunrise.


#516

Otis was grinning ear to ear, Jake was barking hysterically as they finally passed the Thunderbolt gaining back a position they had swapped many times. Unfortunately the pass was short lived when one of the locals not seeing the rapidly approaching truck in the distance pulled out on to the road. Otis slammed on the brakes and tried to steer around the car but clipped it solidly enough to rip the front plastic of the other car completely off along with part of its grill. The car was knocked off the road and into a ditch where the driver and passengers cussed Otis in a language he didn’t understand, or hear for that matter. A short distance later Otis was forced to pull over to fix the front bumper, fender and flat tire. Not only did the Thunderbolt pass, but so did the Conquista.


#517

For Marcus, it was loosely restrained chaos as he floored the neon-green XR-3 down the highway, dodging traffic, cop cars, border patrol, and debris from the other cars. He held a cigarette in his left hand, also gripping the wheel with that hand as he ripped through the gears, the loud snarling engine propelling the lightweight little shit-nugget down the road.

As they burst through Bulgaria, Marcus hurled a bottle out of the window at a police car, then flicked his cigarette as well, setting the car on fire. “Stay off my ass.” he grumbled, roaring toward the Greek border in the fiberglass sedan.


#518

Being from a RHS drive country, this type of stuff always confuses me momentarily.


#519

Chapter 15: Land of philosophes.


Near the Greek border, Bulgaria, 9:44. 9th of October 1995. 618km to Athens.
The google maps route can be seen here.

The Bonham was getting ready to smash into the Greek border when the driver realized all of the lines through the border were full of cars. Having to brake, the lime green wagon stopped behind another car that was going through the inspection at the moment. As soon as the previous car left, one of the border agents stopped in front of the car while the other moved towards the driver side window, swiftly unsheathing their gun and pointing it at the driver. The border agent then gestured the driver to lower the window.

“Alright, you little shit…you guys have 15 minutes until we set the alarm off. You better drive quick. You know the drill, Athens.” - Said the border agent. The barrier was raised and the cars let through.


(Musical suggestion by @titleguy1!)

The cars floored it as soon as they exited the border, finally into the hilly landscapes of northern Greece. Inside the twisty but fast highways, the Evo was the first car to make a move and overtake the Bonhan after a long draft.

The quickest route would be through the coast. As they blitzed past the downhill towards Salonica, the Dolphine claimed its place back from the Blood Eagle yet again. Traffic was starting to fill the highways again, proving to be a challenge for the racers to avoid once again, combined with the fatigue most of them were feeling by now. As soon as the racers got past Salonica, the long straight allowed the Bushranger to overtake the Scarlet.

The temperature was rising as the racers drove next to the sea, allowing them to grip the road a little better. However, the tyres were more than broken in by this time, and worn as well. Some close calls took place, as the Redneck Express lost traction for a second before recovering control; not before allowing the Kiito to overtake them, though. The roads swiftly became wider, allowing the Friala to overtake the 333 GT3 by sheer brute force. The road was progressively getting twistier, but that situation wouldn’t last forever. However, the Scagliati took advantage of this stretch to overtake the XR-3.

The coast went by swiftly, and soon the racers found themselves next to Glifa. The Comet GT-R overtook the Conquista there, after a clever move. Soon, the Evo and the Bonham were fighting it out next to Anthili. The drivers of the Bushranger checked in their map. That was the last waypoint before Athens. They were now roughly…200 kilometres away from Athens.

To be continued…or perhaps finished? :smirk:


Times spreadsheet:



#520

so… the Evo and the Chaucer are separated by 3 seconds.

This will be :popcorn:


#521

Chapter 16: End of the road.


Outside Lamia, Greece, 12:08. 9th of October 1995. 200km to Athens.
The google maps route can be seen here.

All of the racers knew it. This would be the last stretch. The final sprint. Some of the racers’ minds were being consumed by the fatigue, but their will kept them going forwards to try and finish the race. After all, having done more than 5000 kilometres, 200 kilometres wouldn’t make too much of a difference.


(Musical suggestion by @dylansan!)

With the Evo still in fighting range, a battle broke out between the Gr. B monster and the lime green wagon. Both cars started swerving around traffic, avoiding trucks, cars and motorcycles alike, furiosly making their engines scream through the torture device the throttle pedal was. It wasn’t until they arrived at the bend away from the Kallidromo park that the worn tyres the Evo was sporting lost grip, forcing the car to slow down as it countersteerd and allowing the Bonham to take the lead once again, not wasting its opportunity. The Chupacabra was too far behind to be a threat, which served as a relief to the two racers now battling the first place out.

The highway was starting to lose its twistiness, allowing the cars to stretch their legs for the last time. Taking advantage of this, the Cannonero desperately tried to draft behind the Guivre, but failing to do so as its top speed was insufficient; the blue coupe kept outrunning the orange one despite its repeated attempts; however, as the highway became twistier again near Kamena, the Cannonero made a move, fooling the Guivre into thinking it was going to draft behind and overtaking it on the outside. The following few corners just confirmed this, giving the Cannonero some advantage over the Guivre. The same happened with the Dolphine and the Blood Eagle; the latter tried to overtake the former in the inside, but the traffic stopped it from completing the overtake as it had to slow down, letting the black coupé keep its place.

Not much happened until Proskinas, where the Interval, dummy overtaking the Kiito, took the inside and passed the blue sports car. The Kiito wasn’t taking that, however, and tried to fight back several times until Lake Illiki, where the cornering of the Interval and wider powerband paid off, extending the difference between the two cars.

Then the cars entered a long straight. There, the Tsukuba overtook the Conquista, which had previously taken the place the Comet had taken during the last stretch. There, the Scarlet overtook the Visios and the Chevallier, both vehicles trying to fight back during the overtake and sharing some paint in the process.

The racers went by Ekali, the outskirts of Athens finally visible. This was it. The race was about to end. The road was starting to get narrower. The last stretchs of the urban highway were full of events, with the Guardsman trying to fight in the last minute with the Barracuda. The racers exited the urban highway towards the city centre. As the Bonham and Evo took the detour towards the docks, two people with helmets raised papers which read “FINISH”. The racers went past them, stopping not far after.



(Musical suggestion by the host!)

The Bonham saw the Evo still chasing him. The streets were narrow, forcing both cars to swerve past traffic. People jumped aside in panic, and the few police cars present could barely follow the two racers. The Bonham gripped the turn towards the right, while the Evo Scandinavian flicked it, taking the inside of the turn and forcing the Bonham to hold back. The extremely narrow streets made the Bonham unable of overtaking, but it kept up with the brute force the engine was feeding the rear wheels.

The narrow straight abruptly ended as the two cars rejoined the main street, the Bonham glued to the Evo’s ass like the result of the race would save his life. The two cars swerved past the traffic jam, leaving a trail of chaos and noise behind them. The long street was dominated by the Evo, but the Bonham wasn’t giving up yet, keeping the pace up. Both drivers felt the fatigue and pressure on their shoulders, and knew only a couple of kilometres separated them from the finish line.

Both racers scrapped their paint as they rubbed against objects and other cars in their way to the docks through the industrial area, before the streets had the chance to open up again. The end of the industrial area was determined by the widening of the streets and sight of boats stationed at the docks.

Both drivers floored it. Their engines screamed, their tyres squealed, worn out. The effects of such an unforgiving race were clear on their cars.

The last straight was there. They could see another guy holding a portable blackboard with “FINISH” written on it with both hands. The two cars were side by side, head to head. The street was empty.

Both drivers banged through the gears, sweating like they never had before. As both cars redlined their last gear…the Bonham passed the Evo again, braking before for the last roundabout and arriving at the man the first one.


The same man that gave the start a day ago in Malaga was there, standing next to the Evo and the Bonham, which were now stationary at the final roundabout of the docks, their tyres worn out, their engines overheated, with the fans on their car struggling to cool them down. The man grabbed his Alcatel phone, dialing a number. Two tones were heard before the phone was picked up at the other side.

“Any news?” - Replied a deep, but quiet voice.

“Ye. Race is over, boss. Got the results for ya.” - Replied the man, with a wacky voice, high pitched but clearly a man’s.

“You go ahead and tell me.”

“This is the top ten:”

1st place - @Leonardo9613 (Congratulations for the first place! The lime green Bonham will be remembered as the winner of the GAR.)
2nd place - @strop (Congratulations for the 2nd place and constant pressure and rivalry with the Bonham! Has to be one of my favourite entries.)
3rd place - @Stryfe (The Chupacabra proved to be a force to be reckoned with. Congratulations on closing the podium!)
4th place - @stensen (An unexpectedly strong contender. Great job!)
5th place - @Rk38 (Consistent and fast, held its place for most of the race. Congratulations!)
6th place - @ramthecowy (With a proper eightilicious entry, Xavier and his Dolphine take the 6th place!)
7th place - @JohnWaldock (Took the risk, submitted a classic car, paid off! Welcome to the top 10!)
8th place - @Deponte (The fusion of a muscle car and a sports car. I believe. All I know, is that it made it to the top 10! Congratulations!)
9th place - @TheElt (Probably the craziest entry in this challenge, with over 1000hp. Congratulations!)
10th place - @Deskyx (The Fatalita closes the top 10)


Special thanks to all the people who put up with my lack of consistency in the upload of this challenge, but I’m glad we all got here finally. I hope you guys enjoyed this challenge as much as I did, even with its lows and highs, and some times, wacky stories. Special thanks to all of them who submitted a car and tried an approach at an extremely unforgiving race, spanning several countries and around 5600km. This challenge couldn’t have been possible without you :grin:

But you guys determine if the challenge is over or not. You can rp epilogues for you characters, flashbacks some time later, or any ideas you come up with. :wink:

And now, I’ll take a good break before my next challenge. As @squidhead and @EnryGT5 pointed out to me, being burnt out is definitely not a good idea. See you guys then!


#522

The penultimate leg was one of the most intense stages of the race, and by now Walter was resigned to the fact that he would never be able to win outright. On the other hand, he was impressed by the performance of his lightly tuned - and lightened - Guardsman, and the excitement and wonder that came from entering the Run far outweighed any amount of financial reward. But he was eager to salvage some pride, and floored it anyway as he entered the Greek freeways. Surprisingly, the Guardsman held its own on this fast, flowing section, and maintained its position with ease.

On the coastal roads southbound of Thessaloniki things were going well as usual, despite the dense traffic. Even after driving non-stop for the better part of a full day, Walter was determined not to let some of his rivals out of his sight, and kept up the pressure. While the high temperatures ensured that his Guardsman would grip the road better, it also accelerated tire wear, and so Walter had to call on every ounce of his skill to avoid a spinout or blowout. Fortunately, he stayed out of trouble, and continued to follow the pack south to Athens.

During the very last leg of the race Walter maintained his usual fast but steady pace. He was jockeying for position, with a Scarlet and Perenne lurking behind him. There was no way he could catch the Barracuda, though, but he could hold his head high as he entered Athens. Even though he had failed to beat the highly strung Goliaths with his lightly tuned David, he was proud of what he had done. After weaving through city traffic at breakneck speed, he finally crossed the finish line, 33rd out of 45 entrants, feeling elated and relieved at the same time.

Shortly afterwards, Walter received a phone call from his boss, Roger Hart.

“So, how was it?”

“Uneventful, except for a run-in with the mob somewhere in France, followed by an intense police chase on the Autobahn, but I came through those unscathed, as did the car. By the way, I didn’t enter this race to win - that acid green Bonham-Borch was just too fast for me, or anyone else for that matter - but to see if reducing weight made any difference to the Guardsman’s performance - and it did, ensuring that I beat a Scarlet and Perenne, of all things, to the finish line. Besides, the thrill that comes from an outlaw road race is more valuable to me than any financial incentive will ever be.”

“Great. By the way, I managed to covertly take a few pictures of your car while it was on the move. I have to say that our colleagues are impressed by your showing. As of now, WMD has officially decided to commence production of the Guardsman 3.0R, to your exact specifications, with a production total of 500 units annually. I’m sure that reward will be commensurate with your abilities. However, if you ever decide to do a cross-continent race like this again, keep this in mind: driving like Michael Schumacher or Damon Hill will only get you so far. You’ll need a much more powerful car to keep up with the leaders. That’s why I’m giving you a chance to drive just that - by promoting you to Chief Test Driver, effective immediately.”

“Sweet! Thanks for those action shots. I would have gone mostly unnoticed without you. Anyway, I have to head back home now, but what will you do with the car?”

“You can keep it for as long as you want. Anyway, thanks for the ride. Goodbye.”

Overjoyed at receiving a promotion from his employer, Walter walked away from his Guardsman as his fellow WMD employees loaded it onto a trailer to be shipped back to his home and smiled, knowing that, despite a lack of power, he had managed to finish the Great Run without any damage at all, and held his own against more potent machinery.


Congratulations to the top ten finishers, and many thanks to @Mr.Computah for hosting such an enthralling challenge!