The Mechanic
The Mechanic
Reuben Wharerau
As I wake, I lay there for a moment keeping my eyes closed. It takes this moment for my waking consciousness to form structured thoughts and confirm that the day has finally come. It is here! Today is the day that I have worked endlessly for over the last year. Normal emotions such as nervousness and trepidation sneak in very quickly. However just as quickly these are replaced with confidence, surety, and excitement.
I know that I have that machine ready to run well over its recommended peak performance. A way it was never thought possible. I know she can win, I know she will be the fastest and most aggressive machine out there today.
There will be no mechanical failure. Each individual component has been reviewed for defects and strength tested against my own strict benchmarks. Each working machination has been reviewed further, optimised, and on occasion upgraded of my own design to squeeze every last inch of power out of the machine as a whole. With my own hands, this amazing creation has come alive and has been moulded to represent my unwavering commitment to mechanical perfection. The desire to let her loose on this moon is utterly overwhelming. We are ready!
The Daymar Rally is a showpiece of amazing machines fighting against the conditions and often the poor choices of their drivers. Often these drivers come seeking something, a purpose greater than themselves. Some find what they’re looking for, others do not, and the really unlucky are immolated in a mixture of gasoline and lost dreams.
Drivers come and go, this will never change. But these machines are here to stay and are the true heroes of the day. These vehicles are able to continue redlining for 300kms over the most inhospitable terrain imaginable. They are also able to hold strong despite the ridiculous driving lines or risks the driver decides to take. This is not a miracle. It is through the sweat, labour and love from mechanics such as myself that these machines perform so well in such a hazardous environment.
I have done my part and now it is up to the driver to do hers. I know when that machine takes off it won’t fail. It will be an unrelenting marvel that will not slow, stutter or fault. There will be no mechanical failure with my machine.
I hear her engine come to life and a sly smile spreads across my face as I hear that familiar low rumble; a reverberating growl that hints at the desire to be unleashed like a hellhound. As I watch, my Cyclone stalks out of the hangar towards the starting line and a feeling of pride and contentedness washes over me.
For me the start line instead represents a finish line.
Tomorrow my work begins anew.
by Reuben Wharerau (OldChapGamer)