The speedometer read 110 when I last glanced at it. That was 2 seconds ago and now I don’t even want to know how fast we’re going.
We’re at the Audi Sportscar Experience at Sonoma Raceway – a guys trip, one of our many annual getaways — and I’m in the passenger seat of an Audi R8. This is the introductory class where we learn “dynamic car-control” so we can become confident “R8 pilots.” That’s instructor-speak for hauling ass and pretending like you’re not scared shitless.
As we round the sweeper in Turn 2, I can feel my body being sucked into the seat, the G-forces are that intense. I feel like, if he doesn’t let up I’m gonna pass out. Of all our guys trips, this year we’ve pulled out all the stops. The track day was stupid-expensive. But hey, you only live once.