Live Fast, Drive Hard

Its June 2069, and deep in the New Mexico badlands, is the secret Skunk Works Airbase. As the sun begins to raise its head over the horizon, its not the rumble of aircraft engines that can be heard, but the throaty growl of vintage carburretors feeding engines from the previous century. The test pilots who risk their lives on an almost daily basis putting the bleeding edge aeronautics through their paces are enjoying a little downtime and at an unused landing strip on the edge of the base, are gathering to show off their other speed machines; their hot wheels.

Not content with modern electric cars with their ceramic engines and drive by wire automated systems, the pilots prefer the much more hands on driving experience - delivered by illegal fossil fuels and internal combustion. Every pilot is an experienced engineer and mechanic and has sought out his or her own preferred car of choice from the last century and lovingly restored it, bringing the engines back to life and the thrill of real driving back to the base. 

 

Distilling their own fuels for these gas guzzling monsters, feeding them on rich mixes of specialised  brews, they gather here on one day every month, to display their mechanical prowess and to race each other along Hellfire Strip.

 

The cars may not have the best paintjobs in the world, the desert air and biting salt winds are not kind to fine finishes, but beneath the hoods and bonnets, this is where the magic happens.

 

Multiple engines, ducted fans, pulsing turbines all fill the air with the unmistakable sound of high performance racing. As the sun washes across the desert, the cars line up, the drivers not speaking, just walking the strip - evaluating the competition with a practiced eye and a trained ear.

Then, two cars will take their place at the head of the quarter mile, waiting at the makeshift christmas tree, erected some years before at the head of the strip.

 

The lights go red, then tick down slowly accompanied by the rising roar of the engines, until the lowest tier strobes green and the air vibrates with displacement and the cracked tarmac shivers.

 

 As two racers disappear into the rising haze, two more drivers exchange glances, moving to their vehicles, keys in hand.

Somewhere in the lineup a squawk box crackles and a hand goes up. The racers have cleared the track and the way is set for the next contenders. The tree is reset to green and the strip sees the drivers take their turns showing off their prowess.

Hot rods, exotics, classic muscle - all the great designs and brands are here, brought to vibrant life once more by the dedicated and determined pilots.

   

As the morning heat rises to noon, all the cars have run their time and one by one, they peel off the strip, back to the garages and adobe shelters to cool in the long afternoon awaiting their next run.