Conquering the Mountain

by johnnosk

Saturday October 11, 2014 Part II

Conquering the Mountain
Saturday October 11, 2014
Part II

Mingling with the crowds at the top of Mount Panorama was an experience that Applejack would fondly remember for the rest of her life. She had originally thought that she would either be shunned, as no person knew how to interact with a pony, or be swarmed by a mob of beings that stood at twice her height.

The reality was that while some people were nervous about saying or doing the wrong thing around the farm pony, people tended to see her as a Holden supporter first and as a pony second and were keen to fill in the gaps in her knowledge.

“So this Brock fella, he won nine times?”

“That’s right,” replied the mountain of a man who crouched down next to Applejack, “He was considered Holden’s greatest driver and when he died eight years ago, they created the Peter Brock trophy in his honour.”

Another fan came running over having made the dash to his caravan and back to Applejack with a history book chronicling the history of Holden at the Bathurst 1000. While the assembled fans did not expect Applejack to read through the large tome, there were many glossy pictures that were helpful in illustrating the various Holden triumphs at Bathurst.

With the help of the nearby fans, Applejack leafed through the text. She saw how the cars had changed and how some drivers had aged, old drivers retired and were replaced by fresh faced youngsters, eager for a chance at glory and over the course of five decades, even those young faces grew old. The driver that held the admiration of the small crowd around Applejack was Peter Brock.

No story of the Bathurst 1000 would be complete without mentioning Peter Brock, in his heyday, the media dubbed him ‘Peter Perfect’ while the legions of his fans crowned him ‘King of the Mountain’. Both titles made him uneasy, to his friends he was just ‘PB’.

It took Brock a few attempts before he was able to obtain the first of his many victories on the mountain and for fifteen years after that, he dominated the great race having as his co-drivers many famous names that would go on to etch their names into Australian motorsport.

As Applejack continued through the book, she saw that there was a second ‘changing of the guard’ in the world of motorsport and among the names of the current generation of winners was a familiar name.

“Land sakes!” exclaimed Applejack as she pointed to a picture, “I’ve met this fella.”

One of the crowd looked over Applejack’s shoulder, “That’s Craig Lowndes, nice guy. When did you meet him?”

“Well, I had breakfast with him this morning.” To a farmer like Applejack, there was no difference between having a meal with a celebrity and having a meal with friends or family.

This caused the crowd to break out in laughter and a few affectionate shoves while others chose to give her a scratch around the ears or a pat on the neck. At this point, Applejack knew that she had made the right choice and come tomorrow, she would be happy to wave the red banner for Holden.

Further along from where Applejack stood at Skyline, Rainbow Dash was certain that she had found a lost tribe of pegasi in human form. From her vantage point at ‘The Grate’ she had noticed that the group had earlier set up their soft canvas chairs and a pair of commercial sized eskies in prime viewing positions for the upcoming practice sessions.

Being true to her outgoing nature, she casually strolled up to the group and introduced herself, their response was most unusual.

“Is this a Ford lover I see before me?” one asked

“She is true and blue!” replied another

“Is she loyal to the badge or the racer?” questioned a third

The mention of loyalty to Dash made her wings flare up, “Look, I may not know much about this race, but I do know that without loyalty, teams are nothing. So instead of ragging on me over a badge, start telling me about the team and manufacturer behind the badge!”

“Side by side,” said the first one, looking older than his years, “I wasn't even born in 1977 when Alan Moffat and Colin Bond drove side by side on the last lap down Conrod Straight for a one-two finish. The straight was longer back then too, The Chase wasn't added until 1987. They drove a pair of Falcon hardbacks and they dominated for the Ford Dealer Team.”

“How did they dominate?”

“They were almost 2 laps ahead of the Holden Torana that came in third!”

“What about other wins, were they just as good?”

Of the trio of Ford supporters, it was obvious that the two older ones were brothers and the youngest was a son and nephew. It was the nephew that spoke, “The rock!”

The brothers agreed, roughly dragging Rainbow Dash in closer to the group. “If you want to know what it is to be a Ford supporter and an Australian, then you must know about The Rock!”

“In 1980, a young Queensland privateer by the name of Dick Johnson had qualified on the front row of the grid and drove hard at the beginning of the race and ran away with the lead. Back then, there was no safety car to guide the field around the track. Instead, when a car dropped out of the race, a flatbed truck went out onto the course and retrieved the dead car while the marshals put that section under caution.”

“It was early in the race, only lap 17 when Johnson had passed The Cutting and was going up Reid Park. What happened is still up for debate, but according to Johnson, someone threw a rock on the track as he was passing the flatbed, he had nowhere to go and the rock totaled his car and put him out of the race.”

“All this from a dumb rock?” questioned Rainbow Dash, “How big a rock was it?”

“Bigger than your head!” was the reply, “But that’s not the story.”

The second brother opened one of the eskies and passed out cans of beer to his brother and nephew, after a moment, he passed a freshly opened can to Rainbow Dash as well before picking up where his brother left off.

“During the interview on Channel 7 after his crash, Johnson was angry and disappointed, saying that he’d never return to Bathurst unless something was done to prevent the crowd from doing something similar. He was told that the phones at Channel 7 stations around the country were being contacted and people were donating money so he could rebuild his car.”

“That sounds like great news, did he build his car?”

“He did more than that, the boss of Ford Australia matched, dollar for dollar, everybody's donations and that was enough for Johnson to rebuild and the following year, he achieved his first victory at Bathurst.”

“Wow, just, wow.”

“Ford has had a mixed history at the mountain. In ‘83 when Johnson crashed at Forrest’s Elbow during his shootout lap, his car was a wreck. The only thing salvageable from that crash was the steering wheel.

“This is where Australian motorsport comes into its own. Johnson’s wife and his major sponsor, a guy by the name of Ross Palmer, rented an XE Falcon that was already entered into the race from another driver by the name of Andrew Harris and bought that driver a Commodore for him to race in, which was sponsored by a Bendigo Ford dealership.”

“Sounds complicated!”

“Getting permission from the stewards, scrutineers and other teams was the easy part. Johnson’s team had to work through the night to turn the former car #9 into a new car #17 for Johnson, not just cosmetically but in technical development and Harris had to turn a stock standard Commodore into something that could compete in facilities that were a lot smaller and nowhere near as well equipped than what they have now.”

Entranced by the story, Rainbow Dash took a long drink, idly noting that it had a nice taste, but not as sweet as the cider produced at Sweet Apple Acres. “What happened during the race?” she asked, “They had to have won after all that.”

“Johnson dropped out on the 61st lap, but Harris finished 10th and won that years ‘Rookie of the Year’ award.”

It was the nephew who took control of the conversation, “A few years ago, one of the legends of Australian motorsport died,” he said with sorrow, “During the last half of his career, he was semi-retired, more of a teacher and a mentor than a driver. On the morning of the race, the drivers, officials, crews and fans all said their farewells to the King of the Mountain, Peter Brock. I watched on television as Craig Lowndes, who was driving a Ford back then, break his 10 year drought and hold the trophy named after his mentor above his head. I’m not sure if Lowndes was holding up the trophy, or if the trophy was holding him up.”

Rainbow Dash was speechless, to hide her unease and recompose herself, she hastily finished off her beer before she spoke. “That’s really touching,” she said before realising, “Wait a minute, does this Lowndes guy drive a Holden for Redbull?”

“He does now, yeah. Why do you ask?”

“I had breakfast with him this morning, pretty sure that Dick Johnson guy was there too!”

“Should’ve gotten their autograph!”

It was an irrefutable law of the universe, no matter where in the world she is, Pinkie Pie will find the party, and McPhillamy Park was, by all accounts, party central. Doing the rounds around the various campsites were elements of the Australian Army Band performing a brassy version of ‘Tequila’.

During events such as the Bathurst 1000 or one of the football grand finals, the role of the Army Band was to both perform for the public and to become a temporary de facto recruiting arm of the Australian military by showing a more human face of the service.

In front of the impromptu column was a bouncing Pinkie Pie who had replaced the key word from ‘The Champs’ hit single with ‘Party’. As with all things that Pinkie gets her hooves involved in, what started out as three Bandsmen and a Corporal soon turned into a minor street party.

As the final note and cry of ‘Party!’ faded, Pinkie looked around at the small gathering of mostly children and their older siblings who had flocked to the music like mice to the Pied Piper. Being the premier party pony in Ponyvile, Pinkie was well versed in what to do when the music stops.

“Hi everypony!” she said, waving her foreleg around like it was made out of rubber, “Is everypony having a good time?”

The young crowd laughed at Pinkie as the bouncy Earth Pony used her special talent to see who had assembled around her. “Oh, lots of Ford and Holden fans here,” she said before turning her attention to the bandsmen, “You know, if it wasn’t for the saxophone, I might have lost you in the trees!”

As per regulations, the band members were decked out in their AUSCAM uniforms, camouflage designed for Australian conditions. In reply to the inferred slight on the uniform that he proudly wore, the saxophone player let out a note that could only be described as ‘Blat!’, a move that the crowd thought was hilarious.

“Where are all the Nissan fans, I bet they’ve won here lots of times.”

“I don’t think they’ve ever won,” said one teen, looking at his fellows for confirmation

“Ma’am,” began the Corporal, “Nissan has had two victories at Mount Panorama. The first was in 1991 and it was followed in 1992.”

“But nothing since?” asked Pinkie as she tried to hide her disappointment.

“No Ma’am, but with the new Car of The Future design being implemented last year they could be in with a shot. They did qualify inside the top ten.”

The news that there was a small glimmer of hope for her adopted brand cheered Pinkie up somewhat. What added fuel to the happiness fire was one of the children handing Pinkie a can of the local soft drink.

“Pasito,” said Pinkie, carefully enunciating the unfamiliar word before taking a long drink of the sweet liquid, “Oh, bubbly!”

In the years to come, Pinkie would often import such carbonated beverages from all over the globe for the various events that she planned, calling it ‘Happiness in the mouth’, it almost became her signature piece.

“C’mon, strike up the band, open more bubbly drinks, start dancing, let’s party!” She said, spraying confetti everywhere, before hastily gathering it all up, “Sorry, bushfire hazard,” she said, blushing at her mistake.

Taking their cue from the premier party Pony of Ponyville, the bandsmen struck up a brassy number about a Hawaiian police group while Pinkie led the group off on a different tangent while she asked about local party games. A small boy whispered into her ear and Pinkie replied, “Yes, I have a ball, I always keep one handy for ball emergencies!”

And that was how Pinkie was introduced to the game of Australian Handball.

While elements of a brass band played in the distance, Rarity had sought out the culture and refinement of her fellow unicorns and had no trouble finding Fancy Pants and Fleur De Lis relaxing in the morning shade of a eucalyptus tree.

Fleur was relaxing, looking prim, proper and fresh from the fashion pages while Fancy Pants was rummaging around in the large commercial sized esky, searching for a particular beverage. Such was his focus, he was unaware of Rarity’s presence until he surfaced.

“Rarity,” said Fancy Pants, “what a surprise to see you here.”

“Nevertheless, dear, here I am,” replied Rarity as she searched for the diplomatic term, “You’re looking quite, relaxed.”

The truth of the matter was that Fancy Pants had gone past ‘Relaxed’ and was on his way towards ‘Rustic’ at speeds rivaling the motorised entertainment that comprised the weekend. “Ah, well,” began the dapper stallion, “fresh air, good food and the finest company anypony could ever want will revitalise body and soul.”

Being the canny businessmare herself, Rarity was not fooled by the casual wording Fancy Pants employed, “I take it that you’re finding new business and cultural opportunities.”

“Indeed I am,” he said, “For example, under current laws, there is a limit on how much alcohol you can consume over a 24 hour period. This means at the end of the day, leftover alcoholic beverages are consumed so as not to effect the following day’s allowances.”

“Fancy Pants, are you telling me that you got involved in some sort of drinking competition?”

“Oh no, my dear. I won the drinking competition!” boasted Fancy Pants with a slightly pained expression, “Which brings me to this fascinating tonic.”

Fancy Pants held up a bottle of sports drink, “It is my understanding that Princess Twilight has also tried this, rather delicious, drink and has shared in its restorative powers.”

“Restorative powers?” questioned Rarity, “I’ve come across tonics and potions that make similar claims and they have been shown to be nothing but fraudulent every time.”

“That’s what make this drink so special, it was originally formulated to be used by athletes. While Princess Sparkle may know of this tonic’s ability to temporarily recharge a unicorn’s magic, I believe that there is a market for this tonic on the campuses of Equestria's finest centres of learning.”

“So they can perform better during examinations?” Rarity’s own imagination was on the verge of running wild at the implications, “I’m sure that Twilight would not approve of such ‘Performance Enhancing’ tonics.”

“This beverage is too important for academic use,” agreed Fancy Pants, “I see it being used to bring relief for the morning after, a task that it performs marvelously!”

Rarity could see that Fancy Pants expression was less pained than at the start of the conversation, “Well, one cannot argue with the results, but do tell me, what other moments of ‘Cultural Exchange’ have you been participating in?”

“Well, I have made a few contacts with a representative of the Australian wheat board and met a farmer from North Queensland who grows tomatoes and melons.”

“Such a diverse group of people attend this event.”

“And I just discovered a lead on where to acquire more of this wonderful tonic,” said Fancy Pants as he peered at the label of the sports drink.

With a name like ‘The Bathurst Hilton’, it would be easy to imagine a luxurious hotel with all the modern amenities a traveler could wish for. The reality was that the famous Bathurst Hilton was a very large marquee that sprawled over four individual campsites.

Over 30 years ago, while other campers were in small single and double person tents, a man by the name of Dale Sudholz set up his much larger and better equipped tent. One of his neighbouring campers commented that “Well, this feels like the Hilton!”, and a Bathurst tradition was started.

Over time the original tent was retired and replaced with a large marquee that was hired locally and outfitted with what modern concessions camping would allow. In its current configuration, the Bathurst Hilton had a Barbeque, a beer keg that had been modified into a campfire, accommodation for those who had overindulged during the day and actual powered refrigeration among other camping essentials.

Due to the nature of being at a powered campsite, this year in addition to the lights around the Hilton, there was a large screen television showing various short clips highlighting many historic moments of The Great Race.

It was easy for Fluttershy to be caught up in the excitement of watching Greg Murphy complete what was later known as ‘The Lap of the Gods’ around the Mount Panorama circuit. The lap in question was during the 2003 top ten shootout and, at that time, it was the fastest lap ever recorded by a V8 supercar. As a testament to what is considered a near perfect lap by drivers, commentators, journalists and fans alike, the record stood until it was broken by Craig Lowndes in 2010.

Fluttershy watched the clip play out, more out of curiosity than anything. For the first minute or so, it was another average qualifying lap and it was accompanied by strong and knowledgeable commentary.

When Murphy passed through Reid Park, the timing showed that he was point four of a second faster than the current pole sitter, the commentary kicked itself up a notch on the excitement scale.

As Murphy started his descent down Mount Panorama, he kept a tight racing line through The Dipper and The Esses all the way to Forrest’s Elbow. As Murphy entered Conrod Straight, the split time for the second sector showed that he was almost point seven of a second ahead of pole position. This new revelation caused the commentators to exclaim their disbelief and for Fluttershy to start fidgeting.

The excitement from the commentators was infectious and Fluttershy started to trot in place as Murphy made his run down Conrod Straight much to Klimenko’s amusement. “This is so exciting,” said Fluttershy as Klimenko stood beside the normally timid pegasus, “I know it has already happened but I just can’t look away!”

In the few seconds that Fluttershy was talking to Klimenko, Murphy had powered his way down Conrod Straight and into The Chase. On the screen, a nonchalant John Bowe was watching his chances of keeping the pole position be reduced to near zero.

It was a combination of the electrifying commentary, the shot of Murphy taking the checkered flag a whole second ahead of Bowe, and the sight of the K-Mart pit crew losing their respective minds at what they had just witnessed that proved too much for the shy pegasus.

“Yay!” said Fluttershy before covering her mouth and blushing, “Too loud?”

Before Klimenko could answer, Murphy had entered Pit Lane via the exit, loosened his seat belts and roared like a lion. Driving down Pit Lane and cheering all the way, crew members from every garage came out to applaud the white Commodore, a sight not seen in Australian motorsport before or since.

It was unfortunate that after such an exciting video the next one was, at least to Fluttershy, so tragic. As with the previous video, a title splashed on the screen. This one said ‘2010: When Coulthard escaped The Chase’.

This video started with that years race already underway with the lap counter in the corner of the screen showing that the field was on the first lap entering The Chase. Around half the field had passed the camera that was implanted in the track when the incident happened.

Keeping his level of emotion down to that of a person describing their lunch, the commentator, Neil Crompton stated “That was Bargwanna, That was Bargwanna. He’s had a huge moment and it’s rolled.”

Fluttershy could only gasp in horror as she watched the large vehicle lose control and slide into the sandtrap at high speed only to roll with enough force to be physically thrown up into the air and start shedding body panels.

With the energy from the roll spent and the cameras watching the now silent and unmoving Commodore, Crompton was heard again.

“Apologies, I’ve called that wrong,” he said, his calm voice the ideal of professionalism, “That’s going to bring out the safety car.”

Fluttershy was in a conflicted state of ‘Fight or Flight’ panic, the only thing keeping her rooted to the spot was the small part of her mind reminding her that the incident itself had happened several years ago and that there was nothing she could do to help.

Beside the rigid pegasus, Klimenko could only rub Fluttershy’s neck and gently talk to her. “Look, the driver is out of the car and he’s walking around,” she said in a soft voice, “he’s okay, he’s safe.”

In Pony society, a neck rub might be a bit forward for strangers meeting for the first time, but after what Fluttershy had witnessed, the physical touch was a welcome sensation. It was its own form of strangeness that the characters who looked the roughest had the gentlest touch and softest voice.

Fluttershy watched as the driver, now identified as Fabian Coulthard, walked around his destroyed car while slowly stripping off his gloves and helmet. Further viewing was halted when the television was shut down.

“I think thats enough for now,” said Sudholz as he pocketed the television's remote control and handed the distressed pegasus a can of drink. Taking the blue can in her hooves, Fluttershy eagerly drank the cool, sweet and bubbly liquid.

“Thank you,” she meekly said, “was the driver okay?”

“He was a little shaken and a little sore, he’s racing in the main event tomorrow.”

“Maybe you’ll see him down in the garages later on,” Said Klimenko

“That would be nice,” replied Fluttershy, “Um, where is Twilight?”

After several days of minimal sleep and reduced food, Twilight was finally beginning to relax enough to properly recharge her magic and take in the scenery of Mount Panorama and the town of bathurst. It was something that wasn’t talked about very often, but a Unicorn can deplete their magic faster than normal if they didn’t get enough rest and time to recharge their own ‘mental batteries’. The festive atmosphere at McPhillamy Park and the second breakfast she was enjoying was most helpful in accomplishing this feat.

“So, Bruce, How’s the shop doing?” asked Twilight as she munched her way through a plate of scrambled eggs.

Bruce was one of the people that had their photo taken with Twilight the previous day, while the photographer was setting up, he had mentioned that he was the owner of a small engineering workshop.

“Pretty good,” replied Bruce, “people are always doing restorations and modifications. We’re turning out custom parts all the time.”

Twilight thought while she ate, a person like Bruce could help in standardising Equestrian measurements and engineering, “If you have a business card, I’ll pass it along to Fancy Pants.”

Bruce seemed to consider the idea, “I might do that,” he said as he continued his cooking, “But first, how about some more eggs?”

Twilight held up her plate, eager to start her third breakfast!

It would be easy to think that with six talking, flying and magical ponies scattered amongst the general populous of the McPhillamy Park campgrounds, all other activities would come to a screeching halt.

As a testament to the character of those at the campgrounds and to the Australian spirit, everybody treated Twilight and her friends like they were just another fan of the big race. Twilight found that Australians were a strange lot, they were quick to find a use for both her magic and her wings.

“Here you go,” she said as she handed back the borrowed camera. Taking aerial group shots was something that Twilight had never considered doing before and with the majority of the campers wearing either Holden red or Ford blue, she was beginning to get a few creative ideas.

Within minutes, Twilight had somehow managed to corral a dozen blue shirted Ford fans into the beginnings of a design. With such a grand endeavour it was inevitable that it would not only attract a small crowd, but more willing participants.

“Okay, can you two swap places,” Twilight instructed to two of her design pieces, “and can someone get that colt in the white shirt to lean back a little, great!”

The pieces were quickly falling into place and while there was a lull on the motorsport front, several photographers were mingling among the crowd taking shots to both fill in time and hoping to get the one magic shot that every photographer dreams of.

It was one enterprising shutterbug who had the idea to hand off one of his smaller and more general purpose cameras to Twilight who was using it to great effect from her position above to document her impromptu living sculpture.

“Alright,” said Twilight, as she looked down at her creation. Below on the grass was a small throng of Ford supporters arranged in such a way as to recreate the iconic shape of the Ford badge.

Giggling in the slightly maniacal way that had been known to send parents running towards imminent danger, Twilight rapidly took a series of shots of her living sculpture with the borrowed camera before Klimenko called to her from the below.

“Time to pack it in,” she said, releasing the fans from their shot at Bathurst history, “we have an autograph session back down in the paddock.”

For some strange reason, Twilight felt like she was a foal again and had been told to put away her books and get ready for bed. “Aww Betty, do I have to?”

Klimenko gave Twilight a smile that spoke of understanding Twilight’s position. In truth, Klimenko loved interacting with fans and would more than likely be sharing a beer with a few supporters in the paddock at the end of the day.

“Sorry, Princess, duty calls and we obey,” said Klimenko, leaning in close to whisper to Twilight, “besides, I think it would be a good idea if Fluttershy met Fabs over at Brad Jones Racing in the garages.”

There was something about the tone of Klimenko’s request that commanded Twilight’s attention. “We’d better get going then, do you need any help rounding the others up?”

“Oh, I’ve got that sorted,” said Klimenko as she let out a shrill whistle that forced Twilight to fold her ears over. Looking at the slightly pained expression on Twilight’s face, Klimenko snorted, “Toughen up Princess, it wasn't that bad”

On one of the walkways far away from the green parkland, Pinkie was enjoying herself with the local ‘two legged colts and fillies’, better known as children to the rest of the population, watching the competition between two players when she heard Klimenko’s whistle.

“Oops, that sound means I have to go,” said Pinkie, slightly saddened at the thought of leaving her new friends.

The game stopped abruptly, “Do you want your ball back?” one of the players asked as he offered Pinkie the toy.

“Oh no, you can keep that, I always have plenty for ball emergencies,” replied Pinkie as she bid her farewells to the group. As she trotted off, she sang a little ditty that she had just recently learned from her new friends.

For Rarity, Klimenko’s signal meant that she had to put an end to her little ‘garden party’ with Fancy Pants and Fleur. It could be said that one of the advantages of having members of the Canterlot elite present was that the quality of their fare was several grades higher that the local average.

While one of the sponsors of the V8 Supercars was Coopers, Bathurst was located in the heartland of New South Wales, far from the metropolitan areas of Sydney where Coopers had the majority of its market share. The prefered beer in New South Wales was Toohey’s and Bathurst could be described as stereotypical New South Wales.

The market was large enough that Coopers was in the process of distancing itself from its premium beer label and was in the process of introducing itself as the official beer of the V8 Supercars with various promotions and discounts that were only available on race weekends to viewers of the telecast.

As per his standing in Canterlot, Fancy Pants went beyond drinking the ‘Official’ beer and had ordered several cases of Crown beer, in particular, Crown Golden Ale which he magically kept at just above freezing point to enjoy its full flavour. Sharing his trick for keeping his beverage of choice cold had won him several admirers when a scheduled ice delivery had been delayed.

Complementing Fancy Pants’ choice of beer, Fleur had acquired a selection of fruit and nuts ranging from apples imported from the isle of Tasmania, oranges from New South Wales, and tropical fruits from the Northern end of Queensland.

Mixed in were native macadamias and non native, but still Australian grown, almonds, hazelnuts and walnuts. In all, it was quite the bounty of Australian produce, perfect for a pair of ponies picnicking in McPhillamy Park.

“Oh, dear,” said Rarity as she heard Klimenko’s whistle, “It appears that I must bid you a good morning as my time here has ended.”

“Quite understandable,” replied Fancy Pants, “I take it that you and your friends will be viewing tomorrow’s races from the corporate boxes?”

“With the exception of Twilight, we shall. I take it that you’ll be here at McPhillamy Park for the day?”

“Due to the spectacle that this event seems to enjoy, I fully intend to be here at least an hour before the start. Though I will be having breakfast inside the paddock.”

While an outsider may not have seen it, Rarity and Fancy Pants had agreed to meet for breakfast by using a method that was commonly used by the Canterlot nobility. Stemming from the early years of Celestia's rule, she would inform trusted nobles of where to meet her in such a roundabout way that it slipped past many early spies. Spymasters being the crafty beings that their profession demands, started training actual spies instead of relying on paid informants overhearing conversations by chance.

With plans set for the next day, Rarity gave a polite bow before hurrying off to where the SUV was parked for the return journey back to the garages and the VIP pavilion.

To the majority of ponies that resided in the larger centers like Canterlot or Manehattan, the country pony was considered slow of movement, slow of speech and slow of thought. Country ponies are well aware of this stereotype and use it to their full advantage when possible.

In this case, Applejack had taken a page out of Twilight’s book and was using the opportunity that being surrounded by people of different backgrounds offered, to pick up on any new ideas on running her farm more efficiently but some things didn’t translate too well.

“You do realise that I can’t drive one of them Ute thingys,” said Applejack in response to a suggestion on how to transport her produce to the Ponyville market more easily.

For most people, this revelation would require some head scratching and consulting an engineer or two to find a workaround but for the fact that Australians are known for their instinctive lateral thinking.

“Modifying a quad bike would be easier” said one person, “no doors, automatic gearbox, can pull a couple tons in a trailer. It’s ideal for farmers.”

“How do you know all this?” asked Applejack

“I sell them in Bendigo!” said the man as he slipped a business card into the headband of Applejack’s hat, “Give me a call and we’ll do a deal.”

Any remark that Applejack was considering was cut off when she heard Klimenko’s whistle, “Well, shoot. Looks like I’m gonna have to leave you fellas but it’s been real nice meeting y’all.” said Applejack as she gave each person a quick hoofshake before trotting off towards the area where the SUV was parked.

Loading the SUV for the return journey to the garages was surprisingly easy considering the troubles that the initial trip to McPhillamy Park caused for Applejack’s constitution. “I’m in the front this time!” said Applejack as she gently pushed Rarity away from the prized position.

With an amused snort, Rarity took her place directly behind Applejack with Pinkie sitting behind the driver's seat. Outside, Klimenko was giving final instructions to Twilight who was with Fluttershy.

“You two find Rainbow Dash and head back down to the garages,” said Klimenko before she headed back to the SUV to transport the non flying ponies back to the VIP pavilion.

“Um, Fluttershy,” began Twilight, “Do you know where Rainbow Dash went?”

“Well, I saw her fly off that way,” replied Fluttershy as she pointed along the circuit towards Sulman’s Park.

“Let's go find her before she gets into trouble.”

It was fortunate that Rainbow Dash was too far away to hear Klimenko’s whistle as this was one of the few times her attention was focused on something other than fast flying. Despite the ‘Jock’ aura that she projected, Rainbow Dash was an inquisitive mare. She just didn’t want to be labeled a ‘nerd’.

“Let me see if I’ve got it,” said Rainbow, “The engine connects to a drive shaft, which connects to the transaxle. And the transaxle controls how much of the engine’s power goes to the wheels?”

“That’s right,” said the father, “Now, the brakes.”

Before Rainbow could expand her automotive knowledge, Twilight and Fluttershy landed next to her. “Hi Rainbow,” said Twilight, “Ready to go back to the garages?”

Twilight was treated to the unfamiliar sight of her friend shooting up into the air and her fur suddenly standing on end.

“Oh hey Twilight, we were, um, drinking beer,” said a flustered Rainbow Dash, “Just me, the boys and beer. Nothing else!”

“Okay, if you say so,” Twilight was sure that there was something else going on, but decided to let the matter drop. “Well, girls, who’s up for a flying tour of the remainder of the circuit?” asked Twilight

“Oh, is it safe?”

Twilight managed to stop her eyes from rolling, Fluttershy was a great friend but there were times when her timid nature was infuriating. “Don’t worry, Fluttershy,” said Twilight, “The next session isn’t for a while and we can fly above the cars if necessary.”

With all the work that Fluttershy did with the local wildlife around Ponyville, there were times when she seemed to forget that she had wings. “Oh, yes, you’re right.”

“Right. Well people, it’s been nice meeting you,” said Rainbow as she rapidly shook hands with her human educators, “but we have to fly, because we have the wings and that’s what we do.”

Not wanting to explain herself further, Rainbow took to the air back towards Skyline leaving Twilight and Fluttershy to hastily and diplomatically smooth things over with the amused trio before chasing after the wayward pegasus.

Rainbow Dash was sitting on the concrete barrier that overlooked the valley and the township of Bathurst. One side of the barrier was a crisp white, indicative of the refurbishment that the council had performed over the course of the previous year, while the other side bore the name of the mountain’s greatest driver along with countless signatures of fans and well wishers.

“Okay, Rainbow Dash,” began Twilight, “Follow me and try to keep up!”

Rainbow Dash snorted at the implied insult, “Like I couldn’t beat you!” she boasted.

“Let's make it interesting, shall we,” replied Twilight as she pointed to the white lines that skirted the edges of the track surface. “We follow the circuit back to Pit Lane, we stay inside the track lines and we keep the speed low so we don’t upset the local homeowners, agreed?”

Over the years of knowing her friend’s fondness for procedures and lists, Rainbow Dash was nonplussed about having to follow yet another set of instructions. Had she been paying attention, she would have seen the mischievous glint in Twilight’s eyes that suggested a ‘fix’ was in play.

“Agreed,” said Rainbow Dash, “Last one to Pit Lane buys lunch.”

Twilight nodded before suddenly taking off down the circuit. Rainbow dash rolled her eyes knowing that she had the speed advantage before following her friend across Skyline and to her shock, having the surface of the circuit disappear beneath her.

While it was shown during the support races, Rainbow Dash lacked the familiarity of the circuit that Twilight had picked up over the last few days and as such failed to make the turn coming off Skyline and ended up in the runoff area.

Rainbow Dash had her own particular set of guidelines when it came to aerial racing. Due to the three dimensional nature of Pegasus competitions, it meant that she always performed her best but at the same time she would not take advantage of another competitor.

Realising that she was off the circuit, Rainbow Dash quickly turned around to make a clean reentry before continuing. The move may have cost her precious seconds, but it was a fair move that she could live with.

Further down at the beginning of the Esses, Twilight slowed to a trotting pace as she waited for the inevitable sounds of her friend doing an impression of a pinball.

“Ouch, whoa!” came the cries from Rainbow Dash as she clipped the concrete barriers at The Dipper and left hoof prints in the advertising at the corners exit. There was good news for the speedster as she began to pass Twilight at Forrest’s Elbow.

For the uninitiated, Forrest’s Elbow is a strange corner. In racing, the quickest way around a corner is to go wide at the approach to the corner, come in close to the edge of the corner at its apex and to extend away, allowing physics to push the car to the high side of the track. Done correctly it can be a marvel of racing, performed poorly and the unlucky driver can lose position.

Forrest’s Elbow had what is known in racing circles as a ‘false apex’, a viewer watching from the comfort of their home would never know of its existence but every driver knew to take the initial turn a little bit wider than normal before hitting the true apex of the corner and exiting smoothly.

Not knowing about the particulars of Forrest’s Elbow caused Rainbow Dash to, once again, clip the concrete barriers and take emergency measures to regain control. This allowed Twilight to pass her and take off down Conrod Straight.

Having been caught out by the mountain three times, Rainbow Dash was no longer treating this as a wager between friends. Her own sense of competition demanded that she put on a show of speed and the long straight was the perfect place.

The aerodynamics on most modern racecars are designed to be stable while in the ‘tow’ of another car, keeping up with the vehicle in front while still having some engine power in reserve. For a Pegasus the best place to be to experience a similar ‘tow’ wasn’t directly behind but off to the side where they would meet air that had already been ‘broken’ by the lead Pegasus and would require less effort to power through.

Twilight was flying at her limit and Rainbow Dash had recovered and caught up by the time Twilight had made the first crest of Conrod Straight. At her top speed, Twilight could manage a bit over 200 Km/h, far below her friend’s top speed, but she still had one trick up her metaphorical sleeve.

The entrance to The Chase was the fastest corner in Australian Motorsport with unofficial speeds of over 300 Km/h recorded by some teams. It was a measure of the skill and commitment that drivers kept the accelerator flat to the floor as they went around the right hand corner, braking as late as they dared before the sharp left at The Chase itself.

More than one car and driver had either mistimed their braking or had suffered a mechanical failure from the extreme stress of braking and turning, and have ended up bogging their car in the soft sand that comprised the runoff area for the corner.

As Twilight made her approach she altered her course so she could take the approach to The Chase at full speed. This meant that Rainbow Dash lost both the aerodynamic assist that she was getting from her friend and she momentarily had her vision blocked as Twilight swept across the track at high speed.

The maneuver was performed with such smoothness that Rainbow Dash was, quite literally, caught flat footed and ended up skipping over the sand in an effort to wash off her speed. Rainbow Dash's efforts were only partially successful as she had somehow managed to change her orientation while sliding along the sand.

With her friend in the midst of developing a new Pegasus craze, Twilight had rounded The Chase and was greeted to the sight of Rainbow Dash sailing across the track, fresh from one sandtrap and into another, her face a mixture of shock, surprise and indignation.

“Oh C’mon!” cried Rainbow Dash as she finally washed off enough speed to regain control. Twilight had already made it to the entrance for Pit Lane. With nothing left to lose Rainbow Dash took off for one final sprint with the idea of overtaking Twilight before she got to the control line.

“Get out of the way you mobile roadblock,” said Rainbow Dash. For an athlete of her caliber, catching up to Twilight was foal’s play, passing her in the narrow confines of the twisty chicane that fed into Pit Lane without becoming unsportsmanlike was, to Rainbow Dash’s dismay, impossible.

“Well, at least I beat Fluttershy,” said Rainbow Dash in an attempt to sooth her damaged ego, “I mean, she’s probably talking to birds back at Skyline.”

“Um, Rainbow, I hate to burst your bubble but,” Twilight looked like she was caught between the juiciest secret and the funniest joke, “It looks like she beat the both of us back here.”

“What, how?” asked Rainbow Dash as she poked her head into the Erebus garage. Sitting with an apple and a bottle of water was Fluttershy calmly talking to Len, the Transport driver. The experience was too much for Rainbow Dash to take in at once, the disappointed mare took two steps into the shade of the garage, and fainted.

“Oh, my.” said Fluttershy, “Didn’t anypony tell her that I flew back here from the park?”

Author's Note:

Many thanks to totallynotabrony and Fana Farouche for the proofreading, pre-reading and support.

For those who are curious, here are the two videos that Fluttershy watched

and

And here is the inspiration for what happened to Rainbow Dash:

Comments

[Coranth]

F*cking HELL, what a crash...!

[Dustchu]

Damn, that was some crash! Whew.

Twilight held up her plate, eager to start her third breakfast!

So she had Second Breakfast? hoho

Nicely done man, nice to see this update

[Chrome Masquerade]

Being the canny businessmare herself, Rarity was not fooled by the casual wording Fancy Pants employed, “I take it that you’re finding new business and cultural opportunities.”

“Indeed I am,” he said, “For example, under current laws, there is a limit on how much alcohol you can consume over a 24 hour period. This means at the end of the day, leftover alcoholic beverages are consumed so as not to effect the following day’s allowances.”

“Fancy Pants, are you telling me that you got involved in some sort of drinking competition?”

“Oh no, my dear. I won the drinking competition!”

Yeah, apparently you'll run out of booze LONG before you get a horse -or by extension, pony- drunk.

[Chrome Masquerade]

Complementing Fancy Pants’ choice of beer, Fleur had acquired a selection of fruit and nuts ranging from apples imported from the isle of Tasmania, oranges from New South Wales, and tropical fruits from the Northern end of Queensland.

Mixed in were native macadamias and non native, but still Australian grown, almonds, hazelnuts and walnuts.

My favourite are cashews.

[johnnosk]

7970463 Mine to, but boy are they expensive at my local Woolworths. The other thing is that they're not grown in Australia, so we import them from Vietnam and other South East Asian countries.

[johnnosk]

7969539 The mountain does not forgive error!

[Dustchu]

7970941
No it does not, hehehe