all turns point to one

There are two ways in which you can get to know your car really well. The first one requires two buckets of clean water, micro fiber cloths, pH neutral shampoo and gentle time to hand wash your car. It is only then that you become acutely aware of all her surface complexities. From afar, her curves look amazing but only when you run your hands over them do you feel the metal shaped so uniquely. In her nooks and crannies lies a secret world between you and your car. This is how you understand the toll the miles take between you and her clear coat. The stone chips are like stress pimples that don’t go away. And the rear flared arches are perfect in every way they are bent. It becomes a self-evident truth in your reflection after you wax the car.

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The toilet bowl 

The other way to understand your car and what she is capable of is to take her to a track. On your daily commute, the dynamics are so depressing that she finds herself receding. The tires aren’t stressed. Her suspension barely challenges the bump stops. It is just hum ho. But on a track, you finally begin to cut your car truly loose.

On the track there is mixture of freedom and fear. Between sub-limit and limit handling lays a dynamic space of adrenaline and brake smell. You watch the track asphalt being swallowed hole. The apex comes to meet you at the right time. You feel your stomach inertial sensors re-calibrating to the new normal. The forearms and the steering wheel get to work as you wrestle the front of the car into turn one. The right foot on the pedal rustles gentle since binary inputs bring you swinging pains.

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helmet highs

And the flurry of gearshifts is akin to the first week of dating. A plethora of highs are generated just by shifting gears in a hurry and matching the engine revolutions to avoid those nasty missed encounters. Every aspect of your body is active. Every sense is hyper. It is hair-raising for you and an exciting stretch for your car. As you rest between the sessions catching your breath and slowing down your mind, your car ticks over. Looking at you, you can see that she is stressed. Her tires show wear on the sidewall. The grit is splattered on her side. It is joyful, this exercise, she says. And you get back in the next session, trying to find the limit. And backing off promptly when you find it.

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on song

Once you get to know her like that, there isn’t much more to be found on the regular roads as you drive back home. It becomes peaceful to settle into cruise control, to tap her steering wheel, and nod in the know of what greatness feels like; in knowing your car inside-out to finding out that you like every bit of it.

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