Pistons and Turbos Chapter I

June 30th, 2026. The Nurburgring.

Blood coursed through his veins and ears as he put both of his feet down.

The mighty engine roared at this, the car inching forward as the the tires exploded in a cloud of smoke.

Bits of rubber showered the pit crew behind him.

He let go of the clutch.

1432 horsepowers hit the ground. Hard. The rev counter bounced off the limit as the rpm soared.

The parade lap began.

This was the Nurburgring. A fierce garden of hell where the slightest mistake could result in catastrophe.

Even worse, it was raining.

The starting line looked torn up and beaten by legends before him.

He knew that not every legend left the track alive.

He remembered what his father told him. “A race car is only a collection of hopes and dreams until it gets on the track.”

The starting lights flickered on. Red. Red. Red. Green.

The thumping of his heart grew louder and louder as the engine roared.

Foot down. Pedal Buried.

He was thrust forward as another thick fog of tire smoke and the smell of burnt rubber permeated the air inside the cockpit.

In his head memories of his last race flashed like the headlights of the previous Le Mans car he drove.

Rapidly the speedometer rose to speed unprecedented only half a century ago.









And yet, the coveted 200 never flashed across the display, for it remained elusive to a car designed to take corners, not straights.

First corner. The Doettinger Hohe. Hard braking. Time seemed to slow for those milliseconds as the blur of German countryside became visible.

June 23rd, 2023, 24 Hours of Nurburgring Vintage.

Channel 42 Racing.

“But what’s this? Stunning overtake by the #52 Ferrari 458! Watch as he dives down the inside line! There’s no way that 2011 Audi R18 is going to catch the Ferrari on the straights, but it sure has the corners.” said a commentator.

“That’s right, but as we go over the replay on corner 36, it strangely is the Audi which seems to be faltering. Let’s have a look on interior cam.” said a race official, being interviewed about the standings of the drivers.

“Ah, look at that, it must be the fatigue. Those Michelins are struggling for grip with the wet track and powerful engine. Watch as he slams the brake almost 10 feet early. Not a good spot for the driver as the Ferrari passes.” continued the commentator.

“But what’s this? A new competitor? It’s the McLaren, back from the pits! After that devastating crash back on corner 15, we thought there was no way Bruce McKellen would return, but there he is!” barged the radio host, also present in the room.

“Keep in mind that the 1995 McLaren F1 isn’t nearly as high tech as the other racers, its last win way back in 1995. This is truly a test of whether Bruce McKellen’s skill outdoes the power of the Audi and the Ferrari. With no one else left but the Nissan and the Brabham, this really has become a 3 horse race.” finished the race official.

He hit the apex, the hard, slippery inside of the Doettinger.

“Good line. Keep that up for the other corners.” said the voice of his pit crew chief inside his helmet’s radio.

Tires squealed behind him. It was a small team, dropping back due to faulty tire pressure gauges. Even as he remembered his position on such a team, his heart rate stayed low.

“Stay calm,” he thought to himself. “The race has only just started.”

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