//------------------------------//
// Friday October 10, 2014.  Part I 
// Story: Conquering the Mountain 
// by johnnosk 
//------------------------------//

Conquering the Mountain
Friday October 10, 2014
Part I

Twilight rose before first light.  She, like most members of various crews the length of Pit Lane, was in the middle of various drills to sharpen her skills and shave off valuable fractions of a second that could mean gaining or losing a position.

One not so bright spark from the nearby Nissan Motorsport garage had somehow obtained a riding crop and made the mistake of pointing it in Twilight’s direction.  A short magical tug later and Twilight was now in possession of the crop and the Nissan crew member was in the process of being chastised by his teammates.

An hour later and Twilight was tired but feeling pleased with her performance during the drills, her times had improved enough to be on par with the other Erebus crew members and she was starting to gain the respect of the other crews.  One voice even going so far as to remark how useful a Unicorn was in the pits.  That conversation quickly evolved into what talents and prerequisites a perspective Unicorn should have and how the selection process would work, frankly, most of it was over Twilight’s head, her main concern now was putting food into her belly in preparation for the day ahead.

Unlike yesterday, there was no mass toasting, the crews from Triple 8 and DJR were too busy fueling their bodies to haze Twilight, although someone had placed a bucket of apples at the Erebus table.

Similar to yesterday, the crew discussed the schedule for the day over plates of bacon, eggs, sausages, and hashbrowns while Twilight enjoyed her cereal and fruit.  The first of the day's practice sessions was in a little over three hours away with a second one in the afternoon.

At 3 o’clock, there was the official qualifying session.  The crew knew that by the time the qualifying session came around, they would have burned through a good portion of their tire bank trying to get a fast qualifying setup.  For qualifying and the main race itself, they were required to start using the allotted harder compound tires.

If there were no interruptions, they might get away with only using one or two sets of the eight sets of tires that they were allocated on Thursday.  However, if something happened during qualifying, and at a circuit like Mount Panorama, it could, they might have to use a third set and that would make tire management during the middle of the race critical.  

For Twilight, it was a morning of getting her photo taken with the top qualifiers from the support categories, signing more autographs and nuzzling foals as well as something else.

“Don’t forget that meeting at the Volvo garage,” said one crew member between mouthfuls of food, “Rogers himself asked for you to be there.”

Twilight remembered, the owner of Garry Rogers Motorsport had walked down from the GRM garage to ask her to act as an intermediary for some sort of meeting, but he was evasive about the ‘Who’ and the ‘What’ the meeting was about.

Twilight was secretly thrilled that she was being seen as more than the token pony in the Pit Lane, on an intellectual level, she knew that the art of diplomacy was more akin to a marathon than a short sprint, but to be asked to act as an intermediary meant that someone was taking her seriously.

Finishing her breakfast and taking an apple from the bucket to snack on, Twilight left the marquee to go to her first photo stop of the morning, the pre-qualifying assembly area of the paddock to have her picture taken with the Aussie Racing Cars.

Aussie Racing Cars were an interesting category, they were designed so that every car had the same performance for people who wanted to race but did not have the budget for a larger car.

Each car was powered by a small 125BHP engine mounted in identical frames with the same brake and suspension set up as other Aussie Racing Cars with the only difference was the external fiberglass shell.  When compared to the V8 Supercars, they stood about half the size but what impressed Twilight the most about the design was that it was comfortably pony sized.  

Surveying the paddock, Twilight counted 39 individual cars getting a rapid inspection from the scrutineers.  Twilight joined the drivers who were waiting patiently off to the side of the paddock, it may have been a combination of the driver's focus to set the best qualifying time for their category or that some drivers were still not fully awake, but it was several seconds before they noticed Twilight in their presence.

On this morning, Twilight was being shadowed by an official photographer contracted to V8 Supercars for the express purpose of making sure that there were many photo’s of the Princess of Friendship interacting with various drivers, cars and fans during the Bathurst Weekend.

Once the drivers had woken up to Twilight they quickly began smalltalk about the usual minutia of everyday life with Twilight putting in her two bits worth while making comparisons to Equestria.  After a few minutes of conversation, Twilight realised that, unlike the professional drivers of Erebus and the other teams, many of  the drivers for the Aussie Racing Cars were independent of teams or rides in other categories and had their own occupations outside of motor racing.

“You have how many world records?” asked Twilight, unsure of what she was hearing.

“5 in total.  The world’s largest tandem bungee jump, pulling on the most amount of underwear in 60 seconds, receiving the most amount of kisses on the face in 60 seconds, leading the world's largest underwater dance class and bursting the most balloons in 1 minute.” said Denya as he counted off his records on his fingers.

“Don’t forget his TV shows,” said another driver, joining in the conversation.

“It’s just a small game show, it’s fun, but racing is what I love.” replied Denya with a cocky grin.

Twilight couldn’t help herself, Denya’s easy going manner was a particular type of charm of it’s own and she was genuinely smiling from just being part of a conversation with Grant Denya, race car driver and Australian media personality.

A whistle from the scrutineers signaled that they had finished checking the cars for compliance and that the drivers may now approach.  Going with the flow of the drivers, Twilight tagged along behind with the photographer shadowing her and snapping off pictures as fast as she was able.

At Denya’s instance, Twilight was following him to his car.  It was a deep blue colour that was based on the Holden Cruze model, but what got Twilight’s attention was the large vinyl stickers on the bonnet, doors and roof of the car

“Well, that’s subtle.” said Twilight as she took in the vinyl stickers on the small car

“Well, I used to work for channel 7, but now I’m on a different network, so I’ve got to make sure that people recognise me.”

Sure enough, while showing the same series sponsors as every entrant in the category and the required identifying car numbers, Denya had his own name where other drivers had sponsors.

There were two reasons that Denya had succeeded in television, the first being that he was a genuinely nice guy who respected the skills and talents of everybody he worked with, the second was never letting an opportunity for self promotion pass him by.

“Want to see what it’s like from the driver's seat?” asked Denya, “It look like it might be your size.”

Not wanting to pass up on the implied challenge, Twilight fitted herself into the driver's seat.  “It’s comfortable,” she blurted out, “I mean, everything is within reach.  The gear lever, the steering wheel, I can read the gauges, but I can’t reach the pedals.”

Frustratingly, Twilight’s pony legs only just exceeded the length of the seat.  In it’s current design, the pedal box was too far away to be used, but she was sure that an inventive engineer could manufacture a work around.

With Twilight in the driver's seat, the photographer was busy recording the interaction between her and Denya, making sure to capture the looks of joy and curiosity that crossed her muzzle in glorious colour as well as making sure that Denya was in most of the photos.

“C’mon out,” said Denya, “I’ve still got a qualification to run.”

Twilight reluctantly exited the small race car, effectively swapping positions with Denya as the latter fastened his helmet and strapped himself in.  “Thanks for showing me the view,” she said with a smile and a wave as Denya slowly drove out of the paddock and onto the circuit for the qualification session.

While Twilight had been chatting with Denya, the scrutineers had not been idle, inspecting the entrants for the Touring Car Masters series.  Remembering her encounter the previous day with John Bowe and Jim Richards, Twilight wanted to meet the mysterious Mustang Sally without the crowds.

It could be said that a smart person does everything in their power to remember the names and faces of those that they come across, it does not matter if it is in business, sport or social occasions, remembering someone's name makes social interactions much easier.  For some strange reason, every person that Twilight met remembered her name.

“‘Morning, Princess,”  said Bowe as he knelt to give Twilight a hug, “What brings you out here?”

“Just the usual ‘princessing’ stuff,” replied Twilight with a casual wave of her hoof, “Where is Miss Sally?”

Realisation crossed Bowe’s features, it was clear that there had been a slight miscommunication from their previous conversation, something that Bowe was about to rectify.

“Sally? She’s right here,” Bowe said as he waved his outstretched hand over to the black and white car behind him

Twilight couldn’t believe it, in racing terms, her mind was having trouble engaging gear as she had the mental picture of a human woman not an automobile.  Mustang Sally was an original 1969 Mustang fastback that had been converted into a race car.

Unlike the V8 Supercars, Sally didn’t start off life as a series of tubes, but rolled off the Ford production line like thousands of others over the years.  After it was imported to Australia, a roll cage was added for driver safety but the vast majority of the components used the ‘69 specifications but with modern designs and materials.

“That doesn't make sense,” said Twilight as she tried to wrap her head around what seemed to her as a contradiction, “How can it be one and the other?”

“Take the gearbox for example,” began Bowe, “It still has the same mounting points as the original one from ‘69, but advances in design, lubrications and the metal that the gears themselves are made of means that that particular component has a longer life than the one that was built 45 years ago.”

To Twilight, this was an interesting development.  In pony society, the adage of ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ had been the general rule for centuries, it was only recently that inventions from ponies like the Flim Flam Brothers had begun to appear with varying levels of success.

Twilight walked around the car, admiring its aesthetics of the older design and sleek curves that were the style of an earlier era of motoring.  When she reached the door and looked in through the window, Twilight could see how the new rollcage was mated to the chassis, how the interior had been stripped of any excesses to save weight, although strangely enough, the radio was still intact.

There was one thing that struck Twilight as odd, “Is the steering wheel meant to be on that side?” she asked

“Well, this model was designed in America for American driving,” explained Bowe, “They drive on the right hand side of the road over there, while we stick to the left.”

“Oh,” was all Twilight could muster in reply.  To her, it was most inefficient to have two different sets of driving standards and the different sets of equipment needed.  It also seemed that from every one of Bowe’s answers, two more questions arose in her mind.  

Any further lines of enquiry were, thankfully for Twilight’s mental health, quashed by the ending of the qualification session for the Aussie Racing Cars.  It meant that the Touring Car Masters only had a few minutes to perform final checks before their qualifying session was due to start.

Bidding her goodbyes to the legend that is John Bowe, Twilight made her way to the next duty on the schedule, a fan photo session.  From Twilight’s point of view, all she would have to do is stand still as racing fans knelt beside her while another person took their photo.  It would be like another day at Rarity's boutique.

Minutes later she was standing under a marquee with the V8 Supercars logo and a pair of oversized checkered flags acting as a backdrop receiving an almost violent hug from an overly excited tween girl while the girl's mother was attempting to direct the official photographer so that her child could have a proper glamour shot with the Princess of Friendship.  Twilight was in the middle of revising her comparison from being a clothes horse at Rarity’s to foal sitting the CMC while they were on a sugar rush.

Fortunately for Twilight’s sanity the vast majority that followed the ‘Terrible Tween with the Tiger Mother’ were the more normal and sedate racing fans who only wanted a special memento of this year's race.  In what seemed like the start of a Bathurst tradition, more than a few apples were brought in as gifts from the fans as well as a sprinkling of carrots were offered up.

Some of the more interesting characters included a gentleman who looked like a human representation of Big Mac who had a tattoo of the circuit on his calf, a pair of brothers wearing the colours of different manufacturers setting up a comical photo with Twilight acting like a referee in a fight, the local mother with her infant daughter who made happy noises when Twilight created a small light show.

After an hour and a half, the photographic session had ended and Twilight found herself back in the Erebus garage for the 4th practice session.  After the modifications to the suspension that she had performed yesterday, she had been informed by both the lead drivers and the race engineers that, while they were still down several seconds each lap, the cars were easier to control and get consistent lap times.

For this session, the co-drivers were getting their first feel for the modifications and as such the session was expected to be more of an evaluation of the car and fine tuning the setup rather than familiarizing themselves with the circuit.

With the pit lane officially opened and an older set of tires on both Mercedes, Alex Davison was the first to leave the Erebus garage for his evaluation run.  Once the garage had been emptied, Twilight found herself with time on her hooves and little to occupy her mind.

Curiosity brought her over to the data monitors, a bank of computers and their displays that showed in real time the information from the racing car’s ‘Black Box’.  Information such as car speed and current lap time were standard, but what caught Twilight’s attention was the vast array of engineering minutia that filled the monitors.

Everything from the temperature reading from each brake disc, the position of the throttle and brake, the fuel mode that the engine was running in and the estimated amount of fuel onboard.  There was even a readout for how hard the motor in the icebox was running to pump cool fluid for the driver's comfort!

Twilight was the first to admit that she could ‘Zone Out’ if there was something sufficiently interesting in the vicinity, so she was caught flat hooved when Baird rolled into the garage to announce that while the handling of the Mercedes had improved with the tighter springs, there was still some minor adjustment needed before the next practice session.

Minutes later, Alex Davison returned to the garage with similar issues, only this time, Davison’s experience in GT racing gave him an idea towards a possible fix.  He was last seen hustling off  towards the transporter with Baird, a copy of the V8 Supercars technical specifications manual, and two engineers in tow.  As the session was nearing its completion, Twilight left the garage via the rear to make her appointment with Garry Rogers.

One of the design features of the garages on Pit lane was that even though they were housed inside the same complex, they were paired off, with each pair of garages separated by a solid brick wall.  Twilight thought that this design, although lacking the more elegant features of Canterlot building designs, made sense from the Workplace Health and Safety lectures that had been drilled into her since her training began at Erebus.

Due to the combustible fuels, oils and other fluids as well as the compressed gas cylinders needed to power the air tools, the many possible hazards that existed in the typical garage had been minimised to the to the point that they were as low as it was practicable.  The solid brick wall that separated the garages were just another stage of hazard reduction and, in the case of fire, containment.

The downside of all the safety features was that to get from one end of Pit Lane to the other, you had to exit the building via the rear of the garage and walk down its length from the outside before re entering at the right opening and hoping that you’ve chosen the correct one.

Luckily for both Twilight and members of the general public, many teams had banners, engine displays or the like that identified that particular entrance as belonging to that team.  For Garry Rogers Motorsport, being the only team to field the manufacturer Volvo, had decided that having a mobile Swedish sauna was the perfect way to promote the team.

Ducking between the sauna and some promotional drums of Valvoline oil, Twilight trotted into the GRM garage and was quickly met with a few suspicious stares and was approached seconds later by one of the mechanics in a blue Volvo shirt.

“You lost, ma’am?” the mechanic asked as he towered above Twilight

“Um, no.  I’m Twilight Sparkle, here to see Mr Rogers,” replied Twilight, using a more formal tone to cover her intimidation of the big mechanic.

“Well, welcome to the neighbourhood,” was the mechanic’s reply, it was clear from his body language that he was unwilling to let her wander around the GRM garage.  Equestrian princess or not, Twilight was still a member of a rival pit crew.

It took a few moments under the intense scrutiny before Rogers managed to free himself for the meeting, like the vast majority of team owners, Rogers was a former racer and had been racing under his own banner for over 50 years.

Most humans would begin to mellow out in their golden years, but Rogers still participated in the day to day operations of his team and had scouted and trained many current and former drivers, including one of the Erebus drivers, Lee Holdsworth.

Rogers himself was approaching 70 and always had a face whose default setting was serious, but never missed an opportunity to break into a smile at the slightest provocation and who tended to be more mentor and grandfather than team boss.

“Ah, Princess, thank you for meeting with me.” said Rogers as he led Twilight to a more private area of the garage. “I’m sure that you can understand that this is a delicate situation.”

“No problem at all, what seems to be the issue?”

“A couple of your Equestrian,” Rogers searched for the right word, “colleagues have acquired some VIP pit passes and have made arrangement to visit my garage.”

Twilight was unable to see Rogers problem, “Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis are planning on visiting the pits, has this caused some offence?” she asked

“Oh no, I’m rather chuffed that they want to visit the pits and our garage in particular, but what I’m worried about is putting my foot in my mouth.”

It was a good thing that Twilight had researched common idioms before coming to Bathurst, otherwise she might think that Pinkie Pie might have some competition in the flexibility stakes.  What weighed on Twilight’s mind was as to the ‘why’ Fancy Pants and Fleur would decide to stop at this particular garage on their tour.

“Where is the second driver, Prémat?” asked Twilight as the beginnings of an idea formed

“He’s with the engineers in the transporter, is that important?”

“Prémat is French, Fleur is from Prance,” said Twilight as she put her idea into words, “When I did my track walk, Fancy Pants mentioned that she was being inducted into the ‘Volvo’ tribe, GRM is the only team that races with the Volvo badge.”

“So she’s a giddy fangirl who wants to meet someone who speaks her language?”

“Well, fanfilly, but essentially, yes.”

“What about this Fancy Pants guy, any topics I should avoid?”

Now the conversation began to bear down on the nitty gritty aspects of diplomacy, Twilight gave both the question and answer some thought.

“When I spotted Fancy Pants, he was at Sulman’s Park and looking like an Erebus billboard,” said Twilight with a giggle as she worked through her thoughts, “He’s a businesspony, the type of pony everypony should know.”

“So I should let his lady friend cozy up to one of my drivers and let him lead the conversation?” asked Rogers with a smile.

Twilight nodded her assent, pleased that, in some small way, her first attempt at diplomacy was without incident.  After making some more small talk with Rogers, Twilight felt that it was best to return to her next assignment at Erebus before Fancy Pants and Fleur made their appearance.

As it was, the second practice session for one of the support categories, the Dunlop Series, a feeder category for most of the teams, was winding down and preparations for the first official race for Bathurst was due to begin minutes later.

That meant Twilight was due in the VIP section above the garages and would probably end up pressing hooves with a few businessmen and women.  True to form, there were representatives from the major oil companies, the fuel supplier that provided the thousands of liters of E85 for the event, United Fuels, the event sponsor, Supercheap Auto, a host of businesses that were major sponsors of the teams below the viewing area and representatives of businesses and organisations that were wholly uninvolved in motor racing but were using the Bathurst 1000 to reaffirm business connections.

True to Australian custom, business deals were proposed and discussed over food, beer and sport, leaving the finer details of contract law for Queens Counselors and their Barristers in stuffy law offices far away from the entertainment.

When Twilight finished climbing the stairs to the viewing area, a steward asked her if she wanted a beer or a glass of wine.  Remembering an impromptu lesson from many months ago at the Erebus offices in Yatala, Twilight made her decision.

“Stubbie of the local, thanks” she said, hoping that she got both the pronunciation and the local terms right.

With a smile, the steward in question produced a small opened long neck bottle in a styrofoam container that Twilight took in her magic as she put into practice another of Princess Celestia’s lessons, ‘Working a Crowd’.

While at social engagements in Canterlot as the Princesses protégé, she was often ignored due to either her lack of political power, her social standing, or few ponies actually knowing that the Princess had a protégé that she was instructing.

At this event, however, drink was flowing freely, food was being prepared, and she was the only pony in the room.  Like at many social events that centered around a particular sport, there was a small charity betting pool being run. 

Australians have a strange saying, ‘Betting on two flies on a wall’, meaning that they were willing to lay down coin on virtually any competition.  It was a point of national pride that on the first Tuesday of November each year, the entire nation stops for a few minutes to watch a horse race, a race that had even stopped acts of parliament!

“Princess, the Aussie cars are starting soon,” said one of the reps, “Want to put a coin down?”

Twilight took a long drink from her bottle, “I’ll put a bit each way on Denya overall,” Twilight hoped that, once again, she had gotten the terms right, she knew that there were three races in that category and that she was betting that by the third race, Denya would come either 1st or 2nd.

“Oh, we’ve got a punter here,” replied the rep as he noted Twilight’s bet, “Any other wagers you care to make?”

Twilight took her second long drink in as many minutes and stated confidently “For the Touring Car Masters, John Bowe to win overall.”

“What about the big one, The Great Race?”

Twilight had to stop and consider her options, from a manufacturer's standpoint, the odds were heavily in favor of a Holden clinching the top spot on the podium due to the majority of the field being Commodores.

She also knew that Ford had their own vocal and loyal supporters as her brief conversation with that unknown gentleman on Wednesday had shown, adding to that the sprinkling of Nissan, Volvo, and Mercedes and Twilight honestly didn’t have a clue.

“I have no idea,” said Twilight draining the remainder of her beer, “By the numbers, there are eleven Commodores, seven Falcons, four Altima’s, and a pair each of E63’s and S60’s.  But as I am the Princess of Friendship and in the interests of fairness I will wager that one of each manufacturer will be in the top five!”

Twilight did not know what type of reaction her spiel would cause.  Laughter, good natured ‘Boos’ and at least one voice saying “What a cop-out!” was not what she expected.  

“Is that your bet?”

“I’m not going to bet on the main race,” replied Twilight while examining her empty bottle, “It would be unethical for me to participate in gambling while being in a position to affect the outcome.  And now I’m going to get another drink.”

The various reps were hoping that at the rate Twilight was drinking beer, the alcohol in her system would increase the chances of her making a verbal slip up that could later be used in further negotiations.  

It was to Twilight’s advantage that ponies had a high tolerance for alcohol and as an Alicorn, her tolerance was even higher still, she would have to drink an entire carton of beer at this strength in a short time before it would begin to affect her judgment.

A few other bets were made with a small pile of gold coins of different sizes, strangely enough, the smaller of the two coin types had the larger value, the first race was about to begin.

From the VIP area, guests had a clear view of Pit Straight and while Channel 7 had set up television cameras around the circuit, there was no ‘official’ coverage of the event, so someone had to manually switch between the raw camera feeds to provide a simulated television coverage on several large screens mounted on the walls.  

The race itself was a sight to behold as the smaller cars could perform maneuvers such as going three cars abreast on corners and passing on the top of the mountain that would be impossible in the larger V8 Supercars.  

Down Conrod Straight the smaller engines were straining, but the skill of the drivers meant that they were able to draft each other down the straight and perform even more reckless passing maneuvers going into and out of the Chase.

Less than two and a half minutes after the start, the field had completed the first of 7 laps while Twilight was halfway through her second beer.  For Twilight, she was technically the first pony to see anything like this and she had to admit that as amazing and thrilling it was to be in a VIP viewing area, she could imagine at least one of her friends in the drivers seat.

All first times must come to an end and just before the allotted 20 minutes the lead car passed the finish line in a close duel between drivers as the class designed it to be. 

From the emotional ‘high’ of watching such close competition to the crushing reality that the race was over and the circuit would be empty for the next 90 minutes and that Twilight had a large hole in her schedule.

As fate would have it, it was at that time the stewards brought out hors d'oeuvres that consisted of various meats and sauces.  To Twilight, it was an indication that she should find sustenance elsewhere.  With that she made her polite goodbyes and assurances that she would make sure that the bookie would have the promised bits within a few hours and left the VIP area in search of her own meal.

Approaching her temporary accommodations, Twilight was intercepted by The Enforceress herself.  “Are you getting lunch, Twilight?” Julia asked with a friendly smile.

Twilight was momentarily stunned, in the few days that she had been at Bathurst, this had been the first time that she’d been addressed by her name instead of her title.  “Uh, yes.  I’m going to reheat some leftovers from last night.”

The thought of Twilight eating leftovers by herself caused the smile to drain from Julia’s face, “Why don’t you come and have lunch with us in our trailer?” 

“Well, um, that is,” stammered Twilight.  She was genuinely stunned by the offer, it was a case of weighing friendship and comradery against meeting the Enforceress and her family two days ago.  Swallowing the metaphorical bullet, Twilight asked, “Can I bring my lunch with me?”

The inside of the Ingall trailer was a more spartan affair as the trailer was both far older and more well used.  Relaxing at the compact table were the two Ingall daughters, Jaz and Sasha playing a card game of sorts, the game was quickly forgotten when Sasha, the elder of the pair, spotted their mother and Twilight entering the trailer.

The expected squeal of surprise and delight at the unexpected visitor was quickly quashed with a glare from the Ingall matriarch as she prepared to reheat Twilight’s leftovers while Twilight took a seat with the girls.

After a few moments of awkwardly looking at each other, Twilight began a conversation with what appeared to be two of her most vocal fans.  “So girls, how are things going?” 

The girls fidgeted, unsure of themselves.  On the one hand they wanted to squeal with joy that they were going to be eating lunch with a real live Princess and celebrity, on the other they knew that there was a proper protocol for dealing with royalty and they didn’t want to embarrass themselves.

The silence was broken by the arrival of Russell Ingall to the family caravan.  Ingall looked at the scene of his two daughters sitting at the table with Twilight, seeing the collective unease he injected a little levity into the situation.

“I hope that you’re not sharing trade secrets,” he said to no one in particular as he gave his wife a peck on the cheek.

“Not to worry, Mr Ingall, my brother was in the Royal Guard, he taught me how to resist interrogation.” replied Twilight with a sly grin towards the girls, who were suddenly having a minor attack of the giggles.

With an amused snort that only a father could give, Ingall took his usual seat at the table, and as luck would have it, opposite Twilight.  “How are things going at your end of the pits?” he asked Twilight.

“We’re doing about the same lap times as your team, but car control is a bit of an issue.” said Twilight

“It’s the same story up and down pit lane, fast cars tend to be a little ‘squirrelly’ on a circuit like Bathurst,” Ignall explained, “A lot of the work that is being done is to correct the oversteering problems that the new surface has created.”

Twilight had been kept out of the more technical side of the garage and as such there were some gaps in her knowledge of basic motor racing terminology.  “Excuse me, but what is ‘Oversteer’?”

Ingall’s eyes lit up at the chance to explain a concept and impart a small part of what he’d learned over the course of his racing career to another.  “Oversteer and understeer are two methods of crashing your car,” explained Ingall, “To put it simply, Oversteer is when you turn the steering wheel a little bit and the car turns too much while understeer is when you turn the steering wheel a little bit and the car doesn't turn as much as it should.”

Twilight was enthralled by these new pieces of information.  In his own small way, Ingall was helping Twilight expand her knowledge of both engineering and the Supercars in general.  Before she could ask further questions, Julia presented lunch for the foursome.

In years past, those fortunate few who had managed to make a career of steering one and a half tons of engineered chaos around an enclosed circuit lived the playboy lifestyle of cigars, brandy, and gorgeous women.  They ate only the finest foods from the finest restaurants, wore bespoke suits and draped themselves in symbols of luxury.

All this was far removed from the modern driver who took measures to ensure that he, or she, was a fit, trim athlete that could endure the stresses put on their bodies.  Even for a man of 50 and the oldest driver in the field, Ingall took great care to watch his diet, fitness levels and weight while providing an example to his family.

Lunch for Twilight was the leftovers of spinach cannelloni that was prepared by the local TAFE students and warmed to perfection by Julia.  The Ingall family were feasting on salad sandwiches created in the traditional Australian style of ‘Eh, it’ll fit!’ and including eggs and beetroot.  Strange dietary choices aside, Twilight noted that they did smell good.

“So, Twilight, are you excited for tonight?” asked Jaz between mouthfuls 

Twilight was confused, she knew about the upcoming practice session and the qualifying later on in the afternoon, but she didn’t have anything on the schedule for tonight.  “What’s going on?” she asked, “Is there a dance or party planned?”

Sasha took over from her sister, “It’s Friday Night Live,” she explained, “It’s a light hearted look at the teams and drivers.  There are some competitions between teams, interview panels with the drivers, the fans have their own competition and this year Daddy has a surprise for Mr Larkham!”

From the corner of her eye Twilight could see Ingall making frantic hand gestures in a vain effort to silence his daughter.  Seeing the concern in Twilight’s eyes, Ingall explained, “After the stunt he pulled last year, I’ve decided that a little payback is in order.  Don’t worry, nothing too bad will happen to him.”

Twilight let the matter drop as she finished off her lunch, both Ingall and herself were needed in their respective garages before the next practice session but not before making a stop at her motorhome for the promised coins, after all, a Princess must pay her debts.

The Erebus garage was a hive of activity, as this was the last scheduled practice session before qualifying, the engineering team were close to giving up on making a fast qualifying setup and instead had directed their focus onto ensuring that the drivers of both cars had a stable race setup.

As before, Twilight made herself useful by staying out of the way.  Both Mercedes needed new components fitted and systems checked before being rolled out onto Pit Lane for the practice session, and as before, Twilight found herself and her magical talents put to task.

“You want me to help you put this contraption together?” asked Twilight as she looked at the array of strange parts in front of her.

“Something like that,” replied Klimenko, “We were supposed to be on the Tire Wall for tonight’s entertainment but we would have had an unfair advantage, so we got shuffled to the Esky Challenge for tonight.”

From her conversation with the Ingall family, Twilight had a vague idea about the variety show that was planned but she was still no closer to understanding what that had to do with a small mess of seemingly random parts.

Klimenko continued, “We now have to build a person powered vehicle that can navigate a short course, be easy to get into and out of, and be centred around a commercially available esky.”

Twilight’s attention was split between Klimenko’s instructions, the mass of parts at her disposal and the short list of rules for the event.  “I have an idea, but I'm going to need somepony’s lunch box.”

“One step ahead of you,” said Klimenko as she held up a purloined container, “I’ll buy Len lunch, what he had was crap anyway.”

Twilight nodded, while the large yet soft spoken transport driver and fuel bowser operator was a nice person, his dietary choices lent themselves to the cheap and salty varieties.  Real nutritious food that didn’t come out of a packet would be a welcome change.

“Now if I’ve got this right,” said Twilight as she charged up her magic.

In response to Twilight’s command, the parts began to float and assemble themselves in mid air.  When a general shape of what was needed had formed, Klimenko started to secure the individual parts so that they would be able to withstand the weight of the drivers and the force of being pushed.

Thanks to a power drill with a socket attachment and Twilight acting in place of a saw horse, it took less than 10 minutes to finish the assembly with Twilight adding some final touches.

“What did you just do?” asked Klimenko

“Just a little idea I picked up from hanging around the garages,” replied Twilight, “I’ve used a spell to make the wheels turn easier and made the edges of the rear tires grip better so that it can be turned faster at each end of the course.”

Klimenko nodded, under normal circumstances she would strongly disapprove of such blatant meddling, but they were up against the Nissan garage and she had been made aware of what one of their crew members had done in the early hours of that morning.  An example must be made.

Inside the Erebus garage, the mechanics working with the race and design engineers had taken the feedback from the drivers and were preparing their final permutation on the current setup for the upcoming practice session.

It was becoming an open secret up and down the Pit Lane that many of the teams were having troubles adjusting to the new, more responsive circuit.  Over the course of the several practice sessions, many of the front runner teams had some close encounters with the concrete barriers that lined the circuit.

Comparing the current lap times to the previous year was akin to comparing apples to oranges.  Teams were reporting lap times almost 3 seconds per lap faster with virtually the same equipment.  

The front runner teams like Triple 8 and Ford Performance Racing  had traded stability for speed while trusting in the skills of their drivers while other minor teams were leaning more towards stability over cornering speed and consistency in lap times.

This consistency meant that the drivers would not be working as hard to control their vehicles lessening the chances of a fatigue induced error and with a little bit of luck, gain some track position mid race when the other driver teams tire.

With the final checks done and time before the next session, the Erebus crew wearily downed tools to take a break before another session of madness.  Any thoughts on taking a few minutes to relax were shattered when a rather loud and angry voice cried out.

“Oi, who knocked off me lunch?”