Terror On Four Wheels
My gi-normous head is suffocating from the confines of a medium helmet-turned-skull-Vise-Grip.
"How does your head feel?" asks Jessica Tullman, public representative for Subaru. Like a melon would if it were being squeezed out the birth canal of a pygmy.
"It's kind of tight. Are there any other sizes?" I ask.
"No, that's the only spare the rally team has."
"Do I have to wear a helmet for the ride-along with Travis Pastrana?" I ask, like an eight-year-old would a parent about doing their homework.
"Not only do you need a helmet, you have to wear a Hans device," she replies.
Hans device? What the feezy? I've been on dozens of media pony rides and none have required a contraption to prevent basilar skull fracture. I wanted a ride around the rally stage, not an attempt at a double back flip . . . maybe I should've taken a closer look at the waiver.
Strapped into the passenger seat's five-point harness, Travis connects the intercom plug to my helmet.
"Ready?" crackles his voice.
Before I can answer, the headset-wearing, makeshift human Christmas tree drops his hand and we're off.
Travis shuffles through the first three gears in seconds and we're going at speeds clearly beyond what was meant for the tiny gravel road we're traversing-If I were limber and could manage to do the splits, my heels would touch grass on both ends.
Going into the first corner, a really hard right (my version of co-driver notes), Travis mistakenly rotates the steering left. Instead of the going toward the dirt road (safe), we're pointing at a concrete building (imminent danger). I should've double checked my Hans device. Just as I brace for impact, Travis flicks the steering wheel right. The anti-lag gives a few pops and we accelerate, safely, down the course. Ahh, a feint! Genius!
The rest of the course is pretty much more of the same: Travis accelerating to ball-shriveling speeds on a course way too narrow, braking into a gravel-covered apex way too late, and bombing tiny little corners that are way too sharp. And either from the adrenaline, sheer terror or a helmet way too tight, I black out. Or at least I think I do. Because my next memory is of Travis grinning, asking if I enjoyed the ride. Enjoyed? If nearly crapping your pants as a grown-ass man passes for fun . . .
"It was awesome!"
And that was an understatement. Rally always was an intense motorsport, what with its cars that slide and jump on crude hiking trails barely passing for race tracks. But given its recent inclusion in the X Games, the once obscure motorsport is now televised, beaming mayhem and glorious crashes to American homes nationwide. Rally is on its way to becoming a household term and I get to experience it with one of the guys responsible. But what do action sports stars have to do with our scene? Take away the fact that they are driving heavily-modified Subarus-performing insane maneuvers that would make a D1 driver blush-Dave Mirra, Ken Block and Travis Pastrana are just like you and I. They are enthusiasts who have found a love in cars and are about the coolest guys you'll ever meet.
Crawling out of Travis' car, I yank off the stifling helmet and look for somewhere to rid myself of the medieval device. Ken Block pulls up from wrapping up his run.
"Do you want a ride-along?" Ken asks. Do I want more pain and near-death experiences?
"Sure!" I reply, wedging my noggin back into the helmet.
Editor
Carter Jung
carter@importtuner.com