The German Dark Side

Sitting at the traffic lights on the corner of Amsterdam and Swartbos with the German tech motor purring away. Left foot on brake, right foot to bring the revs up just a little and hold her there. Anticipate the green light. Blink. Without mercy - Smash the accelerator down, drop the brake and burn off down the hill towards the infamous Ripley’s Corner. Okay big girl, show me what you got…

My lust for risk started early on in life. As I mentioned in my earlier stories I have the most phenomenal guardian angel that really has been tested over the years. I don’t know if it was youthful exuberance or just plain retarded'ness but I always had to push the envelope when it came to speed. If it had two wheels I would try put it on one, if the speedometer said 240 I would try push to 260, if the bearings weren’t running hot I would find a steeper hill and if the donkey couldn’t spin, well, that is what rainy days are for. So when my uncle gives his nephew the keys to his BMW 5 Series for him to “Go fill it up with fuel” well, that 16 year old nephew has other ideas.

I had never driven an automatic. E39 528i with the steptronic gearbox. How hard can it be? For once, I was right. It was like driving the arcade game: Ridge Racer practically except the 2 ton body made her a bit of a mule. Right – my Uncle has had a few drinks already and so he would probably not really keep track of time. I head out the gate, nice and easy, down the road and towards the freeway. There is a stretch of freeway in Witbank that connects the top area by the Dam to the center sort of thing. It is about a 5km stretch with an easy right bend and a downhill for fun. She hit a rather impressive 220km/h on that last section as I pulled off the freeway and onto the bridge. “Right – you have had your fun. Put fuel in and go home like a good little boy” I said to myself. But wait… Dane lives nearby here? Hmm, maybe he needs a lift from his house to my side of town? You never know right? I gave him a call and picked him up.

Now this is the dangerous mixture. Testosterone, power and the logic of a 16 year old boy. Dane and I burnt around town, tested out the on-off capability of the E39 traction and stability control (works seriously well by the way) and headed to the notorious Ripley’s Corner. This beautifully cambered swooping left bend runs for 2km from the old Saveways Center down to the old Middleburg road. It is the testing ground for that fine line between skill and stupidity. Many of my mates have come short here already. Sheephead spun out here, just the other week. Lucky to be alive.

So, as I mentioned. Sitting at the traffic signals with Ripley’s in front of me. Dane goes from chatty chatty to pin-drop quiet. He knows what’s coming. He tensions his seatbelt, sits further back and grips onto the door handle. Traction control off. Left foot on brake, right foot on accelerator. She sits at 2500rpm, humming, waiting for the green. Blink.

We set off. Now she wasn’t much of an acceleration bomb but remember, we are here to test that line. I flick her into 2^nd, 4500 rpm, 5500rpm and she redlines into 7000rpm and flicks into 3^rd. Off we go heading on at 120km/h. Dane – ever silent starts to shift in his seat. The road widens into two lanes and begins to camber to our left. 150km/h. Focus on the apex – just keep her nose gentle and the rest should follow. We enter the corner at something over 150. There is no time to look down at the speedo, just got to focus on the bend. Focus on being smooth – like smearing sex-chocolate over a luscious beewb. Then, I felt a sensation I will never forget…

The back suspension starts to wiggle. Ever so slightly I could feel the tyres starting to loose grip but it’s too late now… you are in now…make it stick. The anti-sway, anti-roll, anti-retard driver bars starting to shift weight across onto the inside tyre, the suspension started to stiffen and level out, you could feel the car finding balance and then all of a sudden – she felt rock solid again. Dane, by this stage had stopped breathing and turned rather pale, sorry mate – we have to push this. We have to. 

I fed her more juice, she held onto 4^th gear at 5500 rpm and just as the motor reached a crescendo Dane split in half: “Aaaaaaaaaahhhh! …. Aaaaaaaaaahhh!“  he gave out a hilariously long scream, clenched the seat belt tighter and braced for impact as we came flying out of the apex across both lanes and into oncoming traffic.

We came out of that corner well over 200km/h and flew past Tin Cups like a Boeing. Frikken awesome.

I have never, never, been that impressed with a car in my whole life. That fat ass, titanic sofa on wheels has the most evil of dark sides.

Oh – and good news is – we survived.