It's a breezy 80 degree day, not a cloud in the sky. The rex has just been washed and I'm enjoying the breath-taking views on the twisties overlooking the water. Everything was perfect except for the Forrester 2 cars ahead going below the speed limit. Right on cue, the Forrester turns off. I reach for the shifter and the 80's 911 in front of me takes off.
The Porsche roars ahead about 5 car lengths. I downshift to 2nd and slowly close the gap. We power through the heart of the twisites and the 911 flies through with a death grip on the road. I can feel my wheels beginning to break loose ever so slightly, but I'm still on his tail. I punch it into 3rd, and I see my wife press firmly on her 'imagingary brake pedal', but I press forward undaunted. As I near the redline, the road banks to a straight. I shift into to 4th the 911 begins to walk steadily. Mercifully, traffic appears in the distance and we both shut it down before it got ugly.
I would've loved to have seen the look on his face when he realized he couldn't lose that odd looking station wagon.