OTHER PLACES EXIST. Other things outside my immediate situation are playing out right now for the 8 billion people on our little planet. Later, I'll recognize that. I'll remember to call the family, get around to that email I keep forgetting to write, and enjoy a cold beer and a hunk of steak cooked on a hot stone at a restaurant nearby. Life, in all its rich, wonderful, annoying, and exhausting ways, will continue. I hope. Right now, though, it's irrelevant. My brain can't allow any deviation from what's ahead. Sixth gear, the car underneath me leaping from curb to curb as I plummet down Fuchsröhre, digital readout clicking up and up, shift lights starting to burn bright. I'm out of gears, but the big number keeps getting bigger... 250 km/h, 253, 256.
The track ahead turns left just as it bottoms out and then climbs steeply out of sight. I know deep in my soul that I don't need to brake. In fact, I don't even need to lift. The slick tires, the aero, and the compression will keep the BMW M4 GT4 sticky side down. But my soul and my rational brain don't always see eye to eye, especially around here. It's a battle of wills, and this time-this time I do keep the throttle wide open. The compression as the car hits the bottom of the gradient pushes my neck into my chest like Wile E. Coyote after a collision with a sheer rock face. Milliseconds later, the rebound almost lifts me out of the seat, where I'm tethered by harnesses pulled painfully tight over my HANS device. I sense my eyes bulging from the forces. Guess it's time to blink.
This story is from the June - July 2023 edition of Road & Track.
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This story is from the June - July 2023 edition of Road & Track.
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