GoCartus Maximus

"Perfect...", he growls sardonically. Our hero, CC, grits his teeth and, leaning forward to check side-mirrors, downshifts his intrepid explorer, Herbie, into 2nd gear. Ahead, a truck has slowed down, threatening to rob precious momentum needed to make the next hill.

This is no place for a Mazda Miata. It is a dark, stormy day on a treacherous, snowy mountain route in the northern Alps. However, our hero has only 20 minutes left before reaching the rendez-vous with an international team of special forces. Together, they will smuggle medicine and toys into a impoverished country ruled by a malevolent dictator.

He feathers the gas, but the tires break free... Yikes! He quickly corrects the fishtail and glides into 3rd gear, lowering the torque of the engine, and closes the gap on the lumbering lorry. Herbie's engine growls softly against the constant frappe of sleet hitting the windshield.

Moments later, our hero wipes the sweat from his brow and makes a final turn onto a backroad. The road is covered with ice and snow, but looks passable. The car drifts elegantly onto the road. So close now, and with no traffic, the dynamic duo of man and machine speed up slightly to navigate on the snow.

But ahead there is a small intersection... it is becoming clear that nothing has traversed this area since the last snowfall: more than a foot of snow in a small drift, spanning 8 feet. Zounds! In a split-second, our hero calculates the odds, curses his vehicle's low-clearance, and guns the engine. "Hold on, Herb..." he mutters.

The car fishtails slightly like a cat swishing its tail before the chase. At 30 mph, the car lunges ahead ploughing into the snow. In a split-second, the front of the car catches the drift, and veers to the left; the rear-end kicks out violently, and the duo come to a sudden stop. Busted.

Minutes later, our hero plods into the rendezvous, and clops up the stairs. The ramshackle building is filled with office cubes. He pokes his head around one cube. "Commander Eric, can you help me get my car off the road?"

"Sure..." Eric replies, grabbing his coat. As they march toward the snowy spectacle, Eric looks up, puzzled -- "did you call me Commander?"