Day 0 - Early
Day 1, 5:27 AM
Having been busy all night, between checking Darkshine5âs wounds and putting up with at least two teams and their louder-than-needed music, Luke grabbed his keys and prepared a little âwakeup ceremonyâ for everyone there. As it had gone mostly quiet when most of the teams had gone to bed, some as little as four hours ago, Luke knew this was the time to act.
He placed the keys in the ignition, turned them to the start position, and waited, hearing the quiet whining of the inertia starterâs flywheel spooling up. âOne thing Sinistra did right, this SureStart system is really good. âStarts the first time, every time, even when cold.â Damn right it does when you slam 10 pounds of steel turning 10,000 RPM into the flywheel.â he said to himself quietly, watching the dashboard for the âStarter Speedâ light to ignite.
The crimson glow of the light flared, and Luke released the key. To Luke, it felt like an eternity, but the instant Luke released the key, the starter solenoid kicked the fast-spinning flywheel into the V8âs own flywheel, immediately causing 662 cubic inches of twin-turbo V8 to roar to life.
Luke pumped the gas a few times, causing the car to rock as it snarled and roared, then hissed as the blow-off valves released the excess boost.
Within seconds, the Storm team was awake, with Amy Storm leading Linda Regale out of the big tent, and Scott Regale making a break for the porta-potty.
The roaring V8 woke the kids in the camper near team DSD, as well as echoed across the whole campsite. Rolling clouds of smoke poured from the exhausts as Luke let the Savage idle at last, turning 1100 RPM.
âI would just like to say, Luke, that is one hell of an alarm clock.â Amy said, folding the tent and stuffing it into the trunk. âAnd probably everyone else is going to be very annoyed by it. Not that I give a fuck after the music last night.â
Linda yawned and grabbed a few granola bars out of the glove compartment, then slumped into the back seat. âWell, 'least we somewhat knew it was coming.â she said, yawning again as she fumbled with the plastic wrapper.
Scott staggered out of the porta-potty, packed his tent up, and dumped it equally as unceremoniously into the trunk. âWouldnât go in there if I were any of you. I feel a lot better.â he mumbled, then climbed over the side of the car and fell into his designated seat.
âBetter in the shit-box than in the back seat of our shitbox.â Luke said. Amy smirked and settled into the passengerâs seat, then passed a map back to Linda.
âOnce youâre done eating my granola bars, please, feel free to plan a course for us.â Amy said.
âNeeded something to eat.â Linda responded, though grabbed the map and started poking about at it.
Day 1, 7:30 AM
The driverâs meeting went about as well as expected. Luke switched on his internal GPS, as well as the store-bought model theyâd stuck to the dashboard, Linda scribbled on the laminated maps with dry erase markers, Amy cleaned and organized the wrench kit under the seat, and Scott tried to keep awake and not snore through the meeting.
Day 1, 7:39 AM
Luke settled at the starting line, the snarling Sinistra chugging away, idling around 800 RPM with it in gear. He pulled it down into Low, choosing to shift the car on his own, over-riding the automatic in favor of not burning the tires off of the back of the car early on.
The flag was dropped, and Luke floored it, causing Amy, Linda, and Scott to yell as the car lunged forward, already screaming at the 4500 RPM redline. Luke grabbed the column shifter and stuffed it in Drive, giving the car some control back.
âLuke, you do know where youâre going, right?â Linda asked.
âOf course. This partâs the easy bit, itâs all pavement, gravel, maybe a little dirt. Sheâs a highway cruiser, Iâll just keep her all wound out and sheâll make it.â Luke said, the engine roaring as they started the climb.
Scott gave a grunt as he felt the whole car lurch from the downshift from Drive to Third, the transmission doing what it did best. âOld Man Sinistra couldâve at least had the courtesy to make this GearMaster Performax shift smoother than that.â he said.
âItâs doing fine. Keep in mind, late 70âs, this was the closest thing you could buy to an emissions-legal muscle car. Didnât sell real well because of the terrible gas mileage right after we had that whole gas shortage thing.â Linda said. âSo the rough shifts, theyâre because the carâs trying to keep in the power. Thereâs very little in the way of computer control in this thing, sheâs all mechanical. Fuel injection, hydraulic-valve-body transmission, the only thing computer controlled is the damn starter.â
âNot even that. Magnets in the flywheel plus a couple coils. Basic magneto, except all itâs doing is making a light on the dash glow when the starterâs at full speed.â Scott said. âVery simple engineering, not a computer in this thing, short of the one thatâs driving.â
âDid I remember to put an ejector seat in here?â Luke said, causing Amy and Linda to laugh.
They followed the service road up to the parking lot at Blackjack Pass, where they pulled the car into one of the many available parking spots. Well, technically, they managed to block 8 of them with the huge sedan and Lukeâs intentionally shoddy parking job.
Day 1, Leg 1 Aftermath
âNow, thatâs what I call fun!â Scott said, climbing over the side of the car and wandering a little way away from the car. Despite the distance, the rest of team Twin-Snail still heard the fart.
Luke opened the door and pulled the hood release as Amy and Linda got out and started grabbing supplies.
âLooks like weâre okay. Top the fluids up and weâll be fine. Sheâll need about a quarter-quart of motor oil because she smoked the whole way up the road, but otherwise, sheâs doing fine.â Luke said, checking the dip-sticks for the engine oil and transmission fluid.
Scott slowly made his way over to them, then asked Luke, âSo, howâs the voltage regulator holding up?â
âSeems okay. With the car running, battery charging, and lights on, the regulatorâs atâŠâ Luke reached up and touched the heatsink, reading the temperature, â⊠Looks like 82 degrees Celsius.â
âAnd in real numbers?â
â355 Kelvin, roughly.â
âYou know what I meant.â
âOh, you want that scale thatâs only really good for air temperature. Then itâs 179.6 degrees Fahrenheit. So donât touch it or youâll lose a finger.â Luke said, before closing the hood.
âSo now what?â
âWe wait, we plan, we defend. And we wish ill on the other teams.â Amy said, before handing Scott a plastic bag full of beef jerky. âAnd we enjoy a snack or two while the results roll in.â
âWait, thatâs mine!â Linda shouted.
âYou ate my granola bars. Didnât you think thereâd be revenge at some point?â Amy yelled back.
âAh, the sounds of chaos. Dunno about the three of you, but Iâve got some supplies in the car.â Luke said, before opening the center console and grabbing several items.
First, he put the 8-track to Cassette adapter into the Sinistraâs old 8-track player. Then he dropped in a cassette to 3.5mm audio adapter, and finally, plugged in a cheap MP3 player. He turned on the radio, then decided the appropriate song for the end of the first stage would be Iron Maidenâs Aces High. Played obnoxiously loudly, of course.
âReally, Luke? Now youâre being the jerk with the loud radio?â Amy asked.
âWell, it just seems appropriate givenâŠâ
âHey, I like this song, so itâs not that bad.â Scott said, interrupting Luke.
ââŠthat we got kept up extra late. No point in fighting a war of noise when our radio isnât that great.â Luke finished, before checking supplies and attempting, unsuccessfully, to unstick the top cover so they could get the top back up.
âAnd thatâs still jammed, so the top stays down.â Luke said, after having bent a cheap screwdriver while trying to use it as a pry bar.
