You exit turn 16 with your foot flat to the floor. That's when you see the birds on the track. Of course they'll get…
BAM. BAM. BAM. The woman in front of me clacks a pack of cigs against the gas station minimart counter before paying. I…
Four amazing race tracks. Twenty one hours. Too much fried food. One great car. One possible birdslaughter. Zero sleep.
Delaware welcomes us with snow and the first signs of snow. The RS7 seems gravitationally pulled towards New York.
We're eating up the miles on the way to VIR from night-driving Road Atlanta. The RS7 feels very happy.
Road Atlanta just opened their doors to us for the evening. What an experience.
Sir. Sir. You have an issue. Please look into it.
"Just remember that I can only go home when you're done." That was what the Sebring organizer told us as we waited in…
Road Atlanta, here we come.
Here's the C7.R going through tech. We're on track shortly.
We went down to get coffee at the hotel this morning and who is there but multi-Le Mans winner, former F1 driver, and…
And we only hit one bird.
See that license plate? It reads 'STRIP.' We did not race him.
It's fast. And red. Couldn't really be anymore red, honestly. Sounds amazing too. Our journey begins now.