fastGravity made fools of both me and my colleague Leon Steenkamp on Thursday when Donovan Symes tried to chase the horizon in a Porsche 935 at Killarney Race Track.
If it wasn’t for the passenger seat, I would’ve been stuck to the rear window of the 450 horsepowered time machine like those Garfield soft toys.
The Cafe 9 racing team would’ve needed a spatula to remove my flattened body from the window.
As it were, the surprisingly comfortable seat absorbed most of the G-forces.
TygerBurger was invited to experience first-hand what Pro Tour racing is all about last week when Donovan Symes treated a few media representatives to a couple of “hot laps” around the race track.
What! A! Rush!
When Symes accelerated furiously down the track, my face tried to occupy the space reserved for the back of my head.
I tried to remind him to step on the brakes as a sharp turn roared towards us, but my tongue was fused to my soft palate.
As a result, the statement, “I know you are an excellent driver Donovan, but that turn in the road concerns me” sounded something like “Gheeeooorgh groooxer ogo, urrghhseee!”
Stanley Kubrick special effects blurred reality and suddenly I had the distinct feeling that we were travelling back in time.
Before my Killarney near-death experience, the fastest I’ve ever moved in a vehicle was 165km/h, so 220km/h is quite a jump.
I could’ve sworn I heard Captain Kirk say, “Go to warp speed Mr Sulu!”
We finished one lap before one could say “fuel injected 3.0 litre horizontally opposed 6 Cylinder twin turbo Porsche”!
The home straight was frightening.
The theory of relativity states that the closer one travels to the speed of light, the slower time passes. I contest that, because the home straight was over before it even began.
It was disconcerting to see the car I was in racing away in the distance.
We suddenly stopped in the pits.
I bungled out of the red monster with a new-found respect for life.
“Just act cool, André …” I said to myself while blubbing with adrenalin and glee.
I stumbled over my feet as I walked away and cast an accusing look at the non-existent stone that made me lose my balance.
Then, when I finally drove away in my pedestrian Toyota Yaris, my theory of irrelativity was formulated. Time stood still when I had to drive 60km/h.

***DISCLAIMER: THIS ARTICLE AND PHOTO WERE PUBLISHED IN TYGERBURGER, A CAPE TOWN BASED MEDIA24 COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER. NEITHER MAY BE DUPLICATED WITHOUT ACCREDITING THE SOURCE – TYGERBURGER, MEDIA24.***

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