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witchpassing · 3 months

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an intervention {ii}

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Morning brings bruise-blue light and an impression of road, and, beside it, a motorcar hidden in the underbrush. Small, second-hand, and laced so finely with counterscries - sewn upon the upholstery, carved into the engine block, mixed into the paint - that Mairead isn’t even sure what colour it is.

Harrier drives all day. Mairead can drive, and offers to, but Harrier insists. She hasn’t changed, not one bit; something needs doing, she does it herself, just in case. Naturally, neither of them even considers letting the wizard touch the wheel. Laplace notices this and sulks.

The crucible of the engine renders down petrol into distance. Forest shades across into fenland, fenland gathers its high shoulders into moor. Harrier pulls over once in a while, engine still running, tall grass whispering under the bodywork, so that Mairead can get out and check on their passenger.

Ada is in the boot. Nobody loves that - this already feels a bit too much like a kidnapping - but it’s secure, it keeps her out of sight, and Laplace assures them that she doesn’t need to breathe. She’s no more distressed in there than anywhere else, as far as Mairead can tell.

Around evening, the magician flicks one of their church-smelling cigarettes out of the window, reels their head into the car, and says:

“Do we care about keeping our friend in the back conscious?”

The leather of the steering wheel creaks in Harrier’s grip. “You said she didn’t need air, Laplace.”

“She doesn’t, sweetheart,” an audible eye-roll, “she needs magic. Dolls are parasites, and we have plucked ours from its host.” Laplace has been going back and forth on the it shite. At this point, Mairead just wishes they’d make up their mind. “I have the reagents on hand, if you want them used, but, ah…”

“Sure. Material costs.” Harrier glances into the mirror. “Maisie?”

Mairead knows what she's really asking her to weigh; risk and lost time against an additional measure of suffering for Ada; a small one, in the scheme of what they’re doing here, but one she could be spared. It doesn’t take a lot of thought.

Laplace’s ‘reagents’ turn out to be tea leaves, purple-blue and papery as butterfly wings, prepared upon a camp stove a little way off the road. Harrier leans against the car and watches the sun sink into the haze above the heather. She does not let herself smoke. (Harrier not letting herself smoke and Harrier just not smoking look very different.)

Mairead props Ada up on the edge of the boot and brushes the stray hair out of her face. Her hands lie in her lap, limp as dead things save for the occasional hypnic twitch. She’s been like this since last night. Laplace taps the dull glass of her eyeball, counts the delay until the reflexive blink occurs, mutters something about ether deprivation, but Mairead isn’t sure she believes what they said about that mark not hurting her.

It’s not that she’d prefer her to fight back, exactly; this job doesn’t need to be any harder. It’s just that there are few things Mairead wants to see less than Ada giving up.

On impulse, Mairead reaches out and smudges the glyph on her throat into uselessness. The false skin is cool beneath her thumb, as perfect as velvet.

Soon enough, the tea is ready. Even unsweetened, it smells of honey, a rich, ichorous sweetness. Mairead wonders if that’s the smell of ether.

A witch must reek, then. Like a smashed beehive.

Laplace sets the cup in Ada’s lap, notes the ruined sigil with a scathing arch of the eyebrow, and withdraws to bother Harrier for more cigarettes.

Wind stirs Ada’s gauzy hair. Somewhere out on the moor, a raven creaks.

Funny. Don’t see those up here much.

Eventually, Ada takes the cup in both hands, finger by finger, as if operating herself from somewhere very far inside, and lifts it to her mouth. Mairead watches her throat not-move as the tea pours into her, one smooth, slow draught, untroubled by breath. Her eyelids tremble and flicker, and for the moment, the tide of catatonia recedes.

“Hey.” Mairead offers a smile. The best she can manage, which isn’t saying much.

“You aren’t going to let me go back to her,” Ada says, staring out over the moor, at the place where the sun is going away. “No matter what I say.”

She’s speaking in first person, at least. Maybe that means something good. A first step in recovery, in re-becoming the woman Mairead remembers.

“No, we’re not,” Mairead says. “What’s been done to you, it can be… reversed. That’s what Harrier’s contact says. We can make you you again.”

Ada turns to look at her. “Maisie,” she says, with horrible gentleness. “I’m sorry that I didn’t say goodbye to you when I still could, and I don’t think you will understand what I mean by this. But, love-

“I am never coming back.”

And then Harrier is there, shouldering them apart, shoving past them into the boot. She comes up with something long and heavy and sheathed in oilcloth, tears at the wrapping one-handed, swearing under her breath. Instinctively, Mairead follows her line of sight, and sees the raven wheeling overhead.

“Harry, what–”

“Get Ada stowed.”

“Oh, Christ, you brought a gun?”

“Now, Maisie.”

The oilcloth flutters to the grass. Harrier sights. The raven balks, hangs for a moment in the air, as if suspended upon unseen thread. No, not a raven; those don’t live on moorland, and they don’t know what guns are.

Harrier fires, and the thread snaps. They don’t wait around to see the corpse hit the heather.

“Laplace,” Mairead hisses, a mile down the road, working the rifle’s stubborn bolt. “Why aren’t your fucking wards working any more?”

The magician laughs a dry, choked little laugh. Their knuckles are white on the steering wheel. “Oh, I bet they’re working just fine, actually. I bet that familiar wasn’t even looking for us. The point is that it saw our faces, and it probably heard at least one or two names, and if it knew those things before it died then she knows them now, and that means we are dead.”

“Not yet we’re not,” Harrier grits out, thumbing cartridges into the glovebox revolver. “Once we’re off the moor it’s Stillwater Circle territory. She won’t cross a witch-border just for a doll.”

“Won’t she?” says Laplace, and laughs again. “Won’t she?

The engine gutters and twines. The sun has gone out. Fifty more miles to Grenmere. Fifty more miles until Ada is safe.

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#dollposting #empty spaces #original fiction #this one's writing

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woodchoc-magnum · 5 months

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nobody tells you that when your parents get old, and the competent, strong one dies suddenly, that you'll be stuck with the one who is incapable of taking care of themselves. why? because they've been looked after for the past forty fucking years, had every meal cooked for them, never had to lift a fucking finger to do any housework or anything like that.

and then suddenly they're alone and they don't know how to take care of themselves

and they're looking to you because you're the daughter, right? you're the adult daughter, even though you have an older brother who lives in the same fucking town, but no. it all falls on you because you're the woman who now has to take care of her father, after her mother spent forty fucking years doing the same thing and then suddenly dropped dead.

and your mother always told you that he was weak and selfish, but he's your dad and you love him so you never really believed it, but guess what? she was right. he is weak and selfish.

and it's not like he's a bad guy - he's not abusive; he's not mean. he loves you, he really does. he's just useless.

he's entitled.

he completely fell to pieces after she died, let himself wither away and even pissed the bed, so you had to drop everything to drive two hours down to be with him - even though your BROTHER LIVES IN THE SAME TOWN AS HIM. you had to get him into hospital; then drive him back to your town two hours away to get him into a BETTER HOSPITAL.

and then he has to go into a nursing home because he's not capable of taking care of himself, so you get him into the nicest. fucking. nursing home. in his hometown. all of his money is now tied up in that fucking nursing home, and you get him in there, and he has a lovely private room, a big TV, his own private bathroom, every meal catered all day every day and even someone to wipe his ass.

and even though you have told him a hundred times how tough you're doing financially, it's like nothing penetrates because at the end of the day it's all about him, right, and it's not about you. he doesn't really care that fuel is nearly $2.00 a litre; he doesn't really care that electricity and groceries are through the roof. he knows that you live alone on a single wage but like, he has needs too - he needs beer and Coke! he needs chocolate! he needs gambling money! he needs pay TV, because free to air isn't enough! he has to watch EVERY football game, you know? and golf! it's all about what HE NEEDS.

and just also with an additional side of guilt-tripping because you haven't been able to drive down to see him this year due to a) health reasons and b) the fact that you don't have enough money to pay for petrol for a trip/get your car serviced so it doesn't break down on the highway. but he's in a nursing home with an almost constant stream of visitors, and you can only imagine what the fuck those people are saying about you behind your back.

"oh she couldn't even take care of him"

"oh she put him in a nursing home"

"oh she's so hard on him, she won't give him any spending money"

"if she was any kind of daughter she would've given up her life and moved in to take care of him"

"she's not even married and she doesn't have kids, she could've looked after him herself"

despite the fact that your brother literally. lives. one. minute. from. him and can BARELY BE ARSED TO SEE HIM ONCE A MONTH.

and then tonight he rings, asks the perfunctory "how was your weekend? how are you feeling?" and then segues right into, well, I blew all my gambling allowance this weekend and I need you to top up the account.

and then he's like, shocked, when you go off at him? fucking SHOCKED? he can't possibly consider cutting down on the things in his life just until we get through this little hump? he can't possibly NOT GAMBLE for a couple of weeks? like, how dare you even ask him to cut back. how dare you. what kind of selfish fucking asshole daughter are you to ask him to just TAKE A FUCKING BREAK.

but no no, we're going to go off about the state government giving a $1,000.00 rebate for electricity, even though it means that his daughter won't have to pay for electricity for the next six months. WHAT KIND OF FUCKING SOCIALISM IS THAT.

"you voted for them" YES I DID, BILL. I FUCKING DID. AND I WILL VOTE FOR THEM AGAIN.

This fucking entitled boomer, sitting in literally the nicest nursing home, having a go at his daughter who has been struggling all fucking year to just get a little bit ahead. like what the fuck

and then getting all pissy when i fire back at him and is like, "oh well I guess i'm selfish."

Yes.

You are.

You always have been.

Mum was right.

I love you, but FUCK.

#just needed to vent #not fandom related

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cognitivejustice · 4 months

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170 European Bison reintroduced to Romania’s Țarcu mountains could help capture and store the carbon released by up to 84,000 average US petrol cars each year.

By grazing a 48 square kilometre area of grassland in a wider landscape of 300 kilometres squared, they helped to capture an additional 54,000 tonnes of carbon each year. That is around 10 times the amount that would be captured by the ecosystem without the bison.

The report’s authors note, however, that this figure could be up to 55 per cent higher or lower. The higher figure is the equivalent of around 84,000 US petrol cars annually and the median average is 43,000 cars.

They do this through a combination of evenly grazing grasslands, recycling nutrients which fertilise the soil, dispersing seeds and compacting the soil to prevent carbon from being released. Researchers say that, having evolved alongside this ecosystem for millions of years, their removal has upset the delicate balance, causing carbon to be released.

“Rewilding in this way is now clearly a major option for policymakers in the face of rapidly accelerating climate change.”

#solarpunk #solar punk #rewilding #european bison #climate change #policy #romania #bison

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hot-take-tournament · 1 year

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According to the diagram you posted cars have litters, which is more common to prey animals, and/or animals with a high infant mortality rate.

What is the apex predator in the Cars™ universe? Are they still around??

In the modern era, how do they encourage family planning to prevent overpopulation and climate change?

Or is it just a dainty Prius thing, and the more carnivorous cars spawn at a more reasonable rate?

okay

first of all:

i actually think it's far more likely that the prius is the apex predator, and the larger petrol cars are the prey

electric motors are completely silent - the only noise EVs actually produce comes from the sound of the tyres on the tarmac, which only really becomes noticeable when the car is moving at speeds higher than roughly 30km/h (18 mph).

in an urban school zone with a limit of 15 - 20mph, if there's additional white noise you have no hope of hearing an oncoming electric vehicle moving at 20 mph before it's too late

that's why in the real world there is a minimum decibel limit for how quiet a car can legally be to ensure the safety of pedestrians - so electric cars actually artificially produce a 'car noise' at low speeds so pedestrians can hear it coming in time to move out of the way.

but in this hellish fictional car-world we've created on this blog, there are no pedestrians, and electric cars would not produce this noise - they'd be completely silent at low speeds

so, the hunting tactics of a prius would probably be the same as a cheetah's

they would stalk their prey silently at 30km/h, and when they get close enough they accelerate to their top speed to chase down their target before the petrol cars can first react and then reach a speed high enough to escape

the prius-cheetah comparison is also consistent with the diagram, because like in the diagram big cats have litters and front facing eyes.

in comparison, a larger car like an SUV has a much larger tank, and can travel much farther than a prius without running empty - so they would be like the migratory wildebeest hunted by the prii

secondly,

WHAT THE FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT?

my parents wanted me to go to law school

instead i'm discussing the biological implications of the car pregnancy diagram on the internet

also, the phrase 'dainty Prius' - are you suggesting a prius is the twink of the cars universe?

or is my brain truly so warped that it just immediately jumps to the weirdest possible interpretation?

would i be a prius?

these are all questions i am not remotely equipped to handle

#asks #not a poll #hot take cars

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diabolus1exmachina · 1 year

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N.S.U Sport Prinz

The Sport Prinz utilises the rigidly braced platform chassis of the Prinz, to which is welded the all-steel body designed by Bertone, the Italian stylist, and built by N.S.U. The body is a two-door coupe of typical Italian design, resembling the Alfa-Romeo Giulietta coupes. The two trailing doors are large but entry is difficult because of the rake of the steering column and the intrusion of the wheel arches into the foot space. The pedals are considerably offset to the left and there is no room to rest the clutch foot. The steering wheel is also considerably angled so that the right-hand side is nearer the dashboard, causing the new driver some initial apprehension as to whether his left arm has begun to wither ! The Sport Prinz makes no bones about being a two-seater as the two bucket seats are large and comfortable with padded rolls, while the squabs are adjustable for rake. Behind the seats is a large shelf which could accommodate a good deal of luggage or two children if they did not object to the lack of padding. Additional luggage space is available under the bonnet, but with a 5.7-gallon petrol tank and a spare wheel already in occupation a medium-sized suitcase would strain the capacity.

Instrumentation is similar to that of the saloons, the sole instrument being the large Vdo speedometer, curiously marked with coloured segments denoting maximum speeds in the gears: These are placed at 12 m.p.h. for first gear, 25 m.p.h. for second, and 40 m.p.h. for third. Incorporated in the speedometer is a mileage indicator which is well illuminated at night (something appreciated by rally drivers and not often found in British cars); although no tenths recorder is fitted. The rest of the instrumentation is taken care of by five coloured lights, these indicating high beam, dynamo warning, oil pressure, fuel level and direction flashers. The lighting system is just about perfect, a switch on the facia being turned to left or right to bring on the off-side front and rear lamps for parking, depending on which side of the road one parks, while the same switch is pulled for side-lights and dipped headlamps. A stalk protruding from the right of the steering column switches the lights to main beam if it is lifted, while depressing the lever flashes the main beam even when the remainder of the lighting system is out of operation. Pulling the same lever in the horizontal plane sounds the effective horn. A similarly placed lever on the left of the column operates the non-self-cancelling direction indicators. The remainder of the switches include a rather small windscreen-wiper switch, a windscreen washers plunger and a socket for an inspection lamp.

The engine is started by twisting the ignition key, while use of the T-shaped choke lever, placed just in front of the gear-lever, is almost always necessary. The engine bursts into rather noisy life and idles unevenly but once under way the engine smooths out, although the noise is still very reminiscent of a two-stroke engine. The gearbox operates in the rather disconnected way of so many rear-engined cars, and the synchromesh tends to obstruct gear selection, especially in first gear. To obtain good downward gear changes it is advisable to double-declutch, a manoeuvre which is aided by reasonably sensibly placed pedals. With 36 b.h.p. to move just over 10 cwt. along, the acceleration is more than brisk and the Sport Prinz will certainly never get in the way of other traffic. Normal cruising speed is an indicated 60 m.p.h., while the needle will swing round to 80 m.p.h. on a slight downgrade, and a more fully run-in car would probably reach the claimed 85 m.p.h. top speed. Remember, this car has a capacity of 583 c.c. !

#N.S.U Sport Prinz #Bertone #Alfa-Romeo Giulietta

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blackswaneuroparedux · 2 years

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The ‘Modena Monster’: The 1955 Ferrari 410 Sports Spider by Scaglietti - a storied history

Mr. Ferrari told me this was the best Ferrari he ever built.

- Carroll Shelby on the 1955 Ferrari 410 Sport Spider by Scaglietti.

Why do so many of us find sports cars irresistible? Of course, it would be impossible to isolate exactly what it is about a well-designed sports car that engenders such attachment, but there are some factors that would logically contribute to the commonly seen love affair between men (and yes, women too) and their sports cars.

It seems as if much of the attraction is grounded in symbolism. Racing cars have long been portrayed as sources of freedom. Talented drivers are left unencumbered by the limitations of our lives driving pedestrian automobiles. They are seen as having a uniquely freedom to test their limits against nature. In such circumstances the driver is not boxed in like others. He can tackle any unencumbered road using all his God given skills while being completely open to the elements of chance and fortune. The source of that freedom from the adrenaline rush is the need for speed.

But speed is tethered to design and engineering innovation. We live in a world that worships at the altar of technological advances. The sports car is a moving amalgamation of technical expertise. Racing cars are a bundling of technological miracles. From aerodynamic styling to compact yet powerful engines, they represent the cutting edge of technological design. In a society entranced by technology and innovation, the sports car has an iconic appeal that is difficult to equal.

For me though, it’s stories behind the drivers and the feats of engineering design that make me an unabashed petrol head. It’s not just appreciating the feats done in the car by magnificent drivers of their age. But recognising each car has a story too. Every car has a storied history.

And this is the story of one of my favourite racing cars in motor sports history.

The 1955 Ferrari 410 Sport Spider by Scaglietti has the reputation as an incredible and rare sports car that was driven by some very famous racing figures. In addition to Carroll Shelby, who would later join Ford in beating Ferrari at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, the car was driven by the legendary Juan Manuel Fangio and by Phil Hill, Formula 1 champions both, as well as Enzo Ferrari himself.

The 1955 Ferrari 410 Sport Spider by Scaglietti was birthed by Enzo Ferrari and Sergio Scalietti.

At a time when series car making was still in its infancy at his company, Enzo Ferrari would manufacture only the rolling chassis and drivetrain. For the bodies, Enzo employed several different coach-builders to “clothe” his machines. Performance was Enzo’s utmost concern and thus, styling came second. Still, he was acutely aware of how styling impacted peoples’ perception of his company and the cars that bore his name. Luckily Ferrari’s victories on racetracks caused the industry’s bespoke coach-building companies to want to work with the firm, and show what they could do on the Ferrari chassis. One of these firms was Carrozzeria Scaglietti.

Sergio Scaglietti, got his start working on Scuderia Ferrari’s Alfa Romeos (then Alfa’s racing arm) before World War II. After the war he opened a repair shop in Maranello, not far from the Ferrari factory, where he primarily repaired the bodywork of damaged race cars for gentleman racers. When one such racer brought his damaged race car to Sergio’s workshop, the quality of the repairs and re-bodying caught Enzo’s eye, and by 1955 Sergio was put in charge of bodying the majority of Ferrari’s competition cars.

Additionally, Sergio secured a loan from Enzo himself to start his own coach-building film, the aforementioned Carrozzeria Scaglietti. This was quite an honour because at the time there were quite a few established coach-builders who already worked with Ferrari including Bertone, Zagato, Vignale, Touring, and Pininfarina. Sergio won Enzo’s trust not only because of his skills with metal, but also because of his relationship with, and support for, Enzo’s son, Dino, who died in 1956.

With Scaglietti now an officially sanctioned Ferrari coach builder, he received chassis’s directly from the Ferrari factory for coachwork. By his own admission, he designed all his shapes “by [his] eyes alone,” letting his own “good taste, understanding of aerodynamics, style, and function” dictate his designs. He rarely drew out his designs in advance, instead preferring to shape the body directly over the chassis.

Enzo Ferrari was a man passionate about motorsport and high performance cars. He understood that one of the secrets to success for his young company was to obtain victories in high profile competition events, and an FIA World Sportscar Championship win would be a great feather in Ferrari’s cap - something that would make the motorsport world, and the sports car buying public, to take notice.

The final event for the 1955 season was to be the Carrera Panamericana. It was a gruelling five-day rally that traversed the Mexican wilderness en route to the border near El Paso, Texas. Ferrari had experienced overwhelming success on nearly every circuit in sports car racing, with the one possible exception being the notoriously dangerous Carrera Panamericana. Not for nothing it was known as the most dangerous motor race in the world with accident deaths being the norm each year among drivers and spectators. It’s fearsome reputation was such that it would bring extra kudos to a sports car maker whose car successfully completed the course and won the event.

Previously, in 1952 several privateer Ferraris were entered, including three of Maranello’s latest sports-racers, Vignale-bodied berlinettas built upon the Lampredi 340 racing engine platform. Subsequently known as the 340 Mexicos, these cars showed promise as Luigi Chinetti finished 3rd overall.

But a year later in 1953, the upgraded 340 MM entries could not hold pace with Lancia’s dominating D24 race cars, despite Umberto Maglioli’s commanding 10-minute lead during the race’s final leg. In 1954, Maglioli rumbled to victory in Erwin Goldschmitt’s 375 Plus. Ferrari had failed again. Riding too high to handle safely, these extremely powerful cars clearly required some chassis development to remain in control on the bumpy and unpredictable surfaces of the Carrera course.

In the years up to 1955 Ferrari campaigned in the event without success and so they went back to the drawing board, literally, and designed a car purpose built for that event. It was designated the type 519/C and the chassis numbers all ended with the initials “CM” which stood for “Carrera Messicana” for the event they were created for.

This new car was the 410 Sport and the second two of the four to be made were fitted with a revised version of the Lampredi V12 engine with a capacity of 4,961 cc. This engine was given dual spark plugs per cylinder (i.e. twenty four in total), a quadruple distributor arrangement, combined with magneto ignition in the first car 0596 CM and coil ignition in the second car 0598 CM.

To feed in a healthy dose of fuel/air mix into those twelve thirsty cylinders three twin-choke Weber 46 DCF carburetors were bolted on in the middle of the “V.”

The suspension system was designed to provide the best handling and durability the engineers could achieve, at the front a fully independent system with upper and lower wishbones, and at the rear a transverse elliptic spring built into a De Dion design.

The roads in Mexico were rough and the suspension was going to need to soak up some exceeding nastiness while keeping the car on course and providing the best ride possible to keep drivers from fatigue. The chassis was a tubular space-frame set for low riding for optimum stability and, they hoped, for survivability over the destructive conditions of the race.

The power of the dual ignition engines was slightly short of 400 hp, which was very high for cars of the period, and it would be this cutting edge level of power that would prove to be the car’s Achilles heel, paradoxical though that might sound.

Even as Ferrari’s engineers were designing and building these four the notorious 1954 Le Mans crash took place. This saw a very lightly constructed Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR crash at the end of Mulsanne Straight. With the car traveling at top speed it broke apart in a collision and sent pieces through the spectators at that location, killing 83 spectators and the driver, and injuring about 180 people.

This caused the entire motor-sport fraternity to re-assess their participation in motorsport events, and the organisers cancelled the 1955 Carrera Panamericana. So the two cars Ferrari were working on suddenly did not have the race they were created for to compete in.

As a result, Maranello repositioned the two double ignition 410 S to participate in the 1956 World Sportscar Championship racing season, making their debut at the season-commencing 1000 KM of Buenos Aires in January 1956.

The pair of 24-spark cars, chassis numbers 0596 CM and 0598 CM, were respectively driven by the paired teams of Peter Collins and Luigi Musso, and Juan Manual Fangio and Eugenio Castellotti. The Argentine great, Juan Manuel Fangio preferred the pedals of his cars to be laid out in the old “C.A.B” layout. So from left to right the pedals were clutch, accelerator, and brake. This arrangement was not uncommon during the 1950s and 1960s. Some drivers, such as Fangio, preferred this arrangement for heel and toe gear-changing.

All eyes were on the local hero from Argentina, with the press focusing much of their attention on Fangio and his 410 Sport. But the two Ferrari’s faced stiff competition, especially in the person of British driver Stirling Moss who was so noted for his fast driving that he created the famous line uttered by British traffic policemen when they pulled you over for speeding “Who do you think you are – Stirling Moss?” Moss was driving a Maserati 300S - an extremely fast car - as long as it didn’t suffer a mechanical failure (something they tended to be prone to).

The pair of 24-spark cars, chassis numbers 0596 CM and 0598 CM, were respectively driven by the teams of Peter Collins and Luigi Musso, and Juan Manual Fangio and Eugenio Castellotti. Fangio had requested a special modification to 0598 CM that moved the accelerator from its normal position to one between the brake pedal and the clutch. Disaster hit the Ferrari 0598CM team early when Castellotti experienced a tire issue forcing the car into the pits for repairs. Fangio jumped back in 0598 CM with a significant distance to overcome and furiously chased down Stirling Moss in the leading Maserati 300S. After Castellotti experienced a tire issue forcing the car into the pits for repairs, Fangio jumped back in 0598 CM with a significant distance to overcome and furiously chased down Stirling Moss in the leading Maserati 300S. Moss was happily storming ahead very comfortably from the rest of the chasing pack. But Moss didn’t count on Fangio’s drive to win. Fangio was after all driving in front of a home crowd of fellow South Americans and he really wanted to win – so he drove using all his skills, talent, and ability and he closed the gap with some dramatic driving until he had Moss’s Maserati in his sights.

And it was at that point that Murphy’s rule reared its ugly head - “if anything can go wrong, it will, and at the worst possible moment”. The other Ferrari 0596 CM of Collins and Musso lasted until lap 61 until the transaxle failed. Fangio’s car suffered a similar fate. In Fangio’s car the differential gave way from the punishment enacted by the feverish pace and raw power of the type 126/C engine on the 89th lap. The transaxle failed bringing Fangio’s wild drive to a heart wrenching end. 400 hp had proved the car’s Achilles heel - the engine was too much for the transmission.

The Brazilians mourned Fangio’s elimination from the race, although driving so hard that the car collapses under the strain is a pretty heroic way to withdraw. However heroic the effort was, Ferrari and his entire team including the drivers were devastated.

Ferrari sent both cars back to the factory for a refit. It was this point the fate of the Ferrari 410 S would take a momentous turn of fortune in 1956.

Racing team owner John Edgar had taken note of the two Ferrari 410 S fitted with the dual spark plugs and quad distributors and had set his sights on getting one. John Edgar had waited in the wings for his opportunity at 0598 CM, anxious to obtain the golden chariot that might deliver his own racing championship. Edgar had also taken note of a young American driver who had given up his life as a chicken farmer to take up motor racing. That ex-chicken farmer was of course none other than the future legendary driver, Carroll Shelby, and John Edgar wanted to recruit him to his racing team and put him in the driver’s seat of a 400 hp 410 S.

Not only John Edgar was able to purchase 0598 CM, the Fangio/Castellotti car, but he was also able to lure Carroll Shelby away from Scuderia Parravano with the promise of turning him loose in the Ferrari. Shelby loved speed, so much that despite his heart condition he did as much high quality motor racing as he could get: even though he had to keep a nitro glycerin pill under his tongue to help with his heart condition. It would be this heart condition would ultimately force him to stop racing – but Shelby was determined to get the maximum enjoyment in the sport before that happened.

While awaiting the delivery of 0598 CM, Shelby garnered a number of wins for Team Edgar at smaller venues, winning the “Race to the Clouds” at Mount Washington, New Hampshire, the Laurel Run Hillclimb, the Brynfan Tyddyn, and the Breakneck hillclimb outside of Cumberland, Maryland. But the central attraction was scheduled to arrive by airfreight in August 1956 at San Francisco, where the tireless team mechanic and hauler Joe Landaker picked up the 410 Sport and transported it to Bremerton, Washington for the 1956 Seafair event.

In his inaugural race in 0598 CM Shelby took the checkered flag, setting the stage for many more victories to come. The Shelby/Ferrari 410 S combination proved to be formidable. The 1956 Washington Seafair event and followed it up with a number of impressive victories. Shelby went on to a number of victories in the 410 S that year in 1956. With Shelby’s victories came telegrams sent to John Edgar by none other than Enzo Ferrari, who seemingly took an active interest in Shelby’s continued success behind the wheel of 0598 CM, congratulating him on more than one occasion.

At the season-concluding SCCA finale at Palm Springs in early November, Edgar entered six cars, hotly pursuing the elusive championship. The 410 Sport had been dubbed “Edgar’s Modena Monster” by the press, and with Shelby at the wheel, there seemed to be no race it could not win.

Shelby won the pole position during Saturday’s preliminary race at Palm Springs, facing a challenging field that included Phil Hill in a Ferrari 857 Sport, fresh from his rookie year with the Ferrari factory team (one that brought the FIA’s 1956 World Sports car Championship to Maranello). From a 3 PM standing start, Bill Murphy jumped out to the lead in his Buick-powered Kurtis, though he was quickly overtaken by Shelby and Hill. Through the corners, Hill’s nimble 857 S would get the upper hand as Shelby braked hard, then on the straightaways Carroll would pour on the 4.9-litre power to retake the lead.

This pattern repeated time and again throughout the race, with Shelby managing to finish first at each lap’s conclusion. In the final lap the two cars battled side-by-side until Shelby roared to victory, just a half-second ahead of Hill.

Shelby later quipped that with his power advantage he could have taken a bigger lead over Hill at any time during the race, but was having too much fun enjoying their epic duel. The captivating Texan had won the race, capping a season in which he won 40 different events, including 18 feature races. Four months later his infectious grinning mug graced the cover of Sports Illustrated magazine, which pronounced him the US Sports Car Driver of the Year for 1956 - his celebrity had transcended to a greater stage.

As the 1957 season dawned, John Edgar continued to pin his hopes on Shelby in the 410 Sport, and though Carroll failed to qualify at a rain-soaked Pomona race in January, he achieved two wins in February at New Smyrna Beach, Florida. The first Cuban Grand Prix was held in 1957 along Havana's waterfront, the Malecon, and by all accounts it had been a huge success. Juan Manuel Fangio, whose tally of five world championships has been surpassed in the decades since by just Lewis Hamilton and Michael Schumacher, was favourite to win.

Shelby’s success though set up an epic duel at the ritzy Gran Premio de Cuba, a 310-mile race of 90 laps through the streets of Havana and along the beachfront Malecón. The Cuban revolution was in full swing, but of course sports car racing should happen regardless of mere revolutions and so the Gran Premio de Cuba was organised with the race to take over the streets of Havana and bring the un-muffled roar of racing engines along the beachfront at Malecón. Filming the race from the perch of his hotel room balcony, John Edgar watched as Shelby’s 410 Sport held off Portago eventually finishing in 2nd place, 60 seconds behind Juan Manuel Fangio’s Maserati 300S.

From this point forward Edgar began to court Maserati, eventually agreeing to a deal in which Shelby would pilot a 450S, Modena’s prodigious new V-8 powered sports-racer. Maserati later struggled to deliver the car, and instead offered a 300S loaner during the interim. As the contract with Maserati specified that Shelby could not drive a Ferrari under any circumstances, Edgar was content to put Phil Hill in 0598 CM for the Hawaii Speed Week in April 1957. Hill shortly left the Edgar fold for good to race for Scuderia Ferrari at Le Mans.

John Edgar had sunk nearly half a million dollars into the construction of the new Riverside International Raceway, and after Shelby was hurt in a crash of one of the Edgar Maseratis, Richie Ginther was pressed into action in the Ferrari 410 Sport at the venue’s September 1957 debut. Richie Ginther was to discover the joys of the “Modena Monster” as 0598 CM had come to be called. And in it he won the first feature race at the Riverside International Raceway. From 5th place in the starting grid Ginther looked ahead at some daunting competition, including Chuck Daigh in a Troutman-Barnes Special, Bob Drake in a Ferrari 375 Plus, and Pete Woods in a Jaguar D-Type. Not to be deterred, Ginther took the lead after 22 laps, and he went on to roar to victory behind the wheel of 0598 CM - winning the first feature race ever run at Riverside as a result.

Ginther had a number of second place victories that year before 1958 arrived and with it a return to Cuba, still in the middle of a revolution. But last time the cigars were good and the enjoyment was fabulous - so what could possibly go wrong?

The 1958 Gran Premio de Cuba was ill-fated in so many ways. Not only was the race eventually stopped because of a on track accident, but Juan Manuel Fangio was kidnapped by Cuban communists and Stirling Moss almost shared the same fate.

Fangio came back to defend his title, and alongside him on the grid was a host of other big names from the era, including Stirling Moss. The drivers approached the non-championship race as any other, and the most famous were accommodated in the luxurious Hotel Lincoln in Central Havana.

On the eve of the grand prix, Fangio walked into the lobby of the hotel on his way to dinner, only to be confronted by a young man in a leather jacket brandishing a pistol.According to reports from the time, the slightly nervous assailant barked: "Fangio, you must come with me. I am a member of the 26th of July revolutionary movement." One of Fangio's friends picked up a paperweight and moved to throw it at the intruder, but the pistol jerked round. "Stay still," the kidnapper said. "If you move, I shoot." And with that Fangio accompanied the young man to a waiting car.

The motive was simple: by capturing the biggest name in motorsport the revolutionaries would show up the government and attract worldwide publicity to their cause. Yet despite the news of the kidnapping spreading across the globe, Batista refused to be outdone and ordered the race to continue as usual while a team of police hunted down the kidnappers.

Meanwhile, Stirling Moss was kept under guard throughout the night, with a watchman knocking on the door every three hours to make sure he was still in his bed. "It was a very disturbing night," he recalled. "Fangio told the rebels, 'You mustn't take Stirling because he's on his honeymoon' - which was a lie of course, but nevertheless was very decent of him."

In an unknown location, Fangio was taking it all in his stride and was being treated to a slap-up meal of steak and potatoes before "sleeping like a blessed one" in a well-furnished apartment. Convinced he was not in danger, he later said he sympathised with his captors' actions."Well, this is one more adventure," he added. "If what the rebels did was in a good cause, then I, as an Argentinean, accept it."

As ordered by Batista, on the morning of the race, the cars were fired up in front of a 150,000-strong crowd, with Maurice Trintignant filling in at Maserati for the missing Fangio. By this time the world champion had been offered a personal apology by Castro's man in Havana, Faustino Perez, and had even been supplied with a radio so he could listen to the action. But Fangio was not in the mood."I became a little sentimental," he said. "I did not want to listen because I felt nostalgic."

It was just as well, as Fangio's sentimental state of mind could have been pushed to the limit had he known what was happening on track.

The race got underway as normal without Fangio. It was going to be a close fight even without Fangio there. Masten Gregory drove the ‘Modena Monster’, now called the Edgar 410 Sport, admirably, passing the brilliant Stirling Moss in a Ferrari 335S and building on his lead. But by the time the leaders started their fifth lap, almost every corner of the 3.5-mile circuit was slick with oil and the cars started to run perilously close to the barriers.

At first the organisers suspected a second act of rebel sabotage, but it was later discovered that Roberto Mieres' Porsche had a broken oil line.

On the next lap, disaster struck. Local driver Armando Garcia Cifuentes lost control of his yellow and black Ferrari and went head on into a bunch of spectators lining the circuit. Over 30 people were injured and seven killed as the wreckage took out a makeshift bridge and flew over the crash barriers. Porsche driver Ulf Noriden stopped on track and attempted to help."I couldn't even see the Ferrari," he said. "The bodies were piled all over. I was wading in arms and legs."

After a Ferrari left the track due to an oil spill and went into a crowd of spectators, the race was red flagged with Gregory’s ‘Modena Monster’ in 1st place. Believing he had won the race, Gregory lifted off the throttle. Moss soon flashed past him at full speed. Moss, unaware of the extent of the tragedy, continued racing against Gregory’s Ferrari. A confused Gregory watched in horror as the checkered flag signalled Moss the winner at the finish line. It was one of the most bizarre victories of Moss’ illustrious career.

Moss explained soon after to a furious 2nd place-finishing Gregory that red flag rules required the final lap to be completed before determining race results. Moss realised Gregory would have won the race if not for his confusion over this technicality, and in true gentlemanly fashion, he split his race earnings with Masten 50/50.As Stirling Moss was to explain it years later, “"So I said to Masten, 'Look, keep quiet, we'll pool our prize money together and then split it'. And that's exactly what we did, because otherwise it would have gone to the organisers or whoever to decide and it would be years before we got the money, if we got it at all. So officially I was the winner. The truth was either of us could have won it, but what the hell, it didn't matter. Why have an argument about it? Especially with everything else that happened that weekend."

But in the bigger picture it meant that Jack Edgar and the Ferrari Modena Monster were denied sweet victory in the 1958 Gran Premio de Cuba.

For Carroll Shelby the sun was rapidly setting on his racing career.

In 1958, Carroll Shelby demanded to take one last drive in his trusted 0598 CM after the Maserati 450S was sidelined due to mechanical issues prior to the Palm Springs main event in April of 1958, breaking the Maserati contract requirements in the process. Back in the hands of Shelby, the 410 Sport responded commendably, finishing 2nd overall. It was to be Shelby’s last race in 0598 CM – a good finale for his man and machine team.

For Carroll Shelby loved 0598 CM as the best Ferrari he’d ever driven - and he’d had the opportunity to drive it in motor racing in the 1950s which he regarded as a golden age of motorsport by many. Reflecting on his time with Edgar and the 410 Sport Spider, Carroll Shelby would later tell John Edgar’s motor racing journalist son, William Edgar, “Racing in the 1950s was really and truly some of the best times of my life, and it’ll never be replaced. It was an era that’s gone and won’t ever be back.”

1959 signalled the last year of competition for John Edgar, as financial pressures increased and resulting sponsorship concerns began to cloud the landscape. Edgar made his last-gasp attempts to win the USAC Road Racing Championship but failed. It was the sign to pack up and leave the sport with some level of pride and satisfaction at his team’s racing achievements.

Following its stellar racing career, John Edgar sold 0598 CM to Luigi Chinetti in 1960. The car was pulled out of retirement and prepared for the 1963 Daytona Continental 3 Hours for NART driver “Fireball” Roberts. Racing regulations, however, had changed since the last time 0598 CM took the track. The rules now stated that cars were required to have a fixed roof, which necessitated the fashioning of a crude hardtop so 0598 CM could compete. After practice laps proved the improvised hardtop was slowing the car too significantly to qualify, 0598 CM went back into retirement.

Chinetti hung onto the 410 Sport for over two decades until he sold it to private collector. From there it passed through a few private owners.

During its illustrious history, Maranello has built several very significant sports-racers that started life as Scuderia team cars and later became legendary in American privateer circles, but very few of these can compare to 0598 CM. As the car that propelled Carroll Shelby to national attention, and the most successful racer of the respected John Edgar team, this 410 Sport may be regarded as nothing short of a legend. It is indubitably rare, being one of just two factory-campaigned examples that were fitted with the more powerful twin-plug-per-cylinder version of the large-displacement 4.9-litre Lampredi long-block V-12.

Driven by a who’s who of the era’s greatest racing drivers, including Juan Manuel Fangio, Eugenio Castellotti, Carroll Shelby, Phil Hill, Richie Ginther, Masten Gregory, Joakim Bonnier, Bruce Kessler, Jim Rathmann, and Chuck Daigh, 0598 CM is without exaggeration one of the most important and colorful Ferraris to compete in racing during the 1950s.

The Ferrari 410 S 0598 CM may have been retired from active competition for several decades but it had enjoyed a pampered retirement over the years since it earned itself the legendary nickname, the ‘Modena Monster.’

As a postscript, in August 2022 the Ferrari 410 S 0598 CM, long forgotten by the public, but not by petrol heads and racing fans, came out into the public glare again. The ‘Modena Monster’ was put up for an auction sale by RM Sotheby’s in California. It was sold for around $22 million.

While the memories of the incredible World Sportscar Championship have gradually begun to fade, still-salient names like Fangio, Moss, Bandini, and Shelby provide a tangible link to the past. What makes those links stronger are these magnificent cars themselves that will always carry the memories of these iconic drivers in their engines and coach work design from the leading carrozzerie of Turin and Milan.

As one of a select few Ferrari models with coachwork both designed and built by Sergio Scaglietti and the iconic drivers who had driven her, the Scaglietti-built spider was a unique, powerful, and complex character that cannot be copied. As such its achievements will always have a place in motorsports lore amongst racing fans and petrol heads.

Six years before his death in 2012, Shelby was reunited with 0598 CM at the Fabulous Fifties Concours in Gardena, California. It was there that the iconic American driver added an unforgettable inscription to its 195-litre fuel tank: “Mr. Ferrari told me that this was the best Ferrari he ever built.”

Perhaps no higher praise could be envisioned for 0598 CM.

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bluechemaustralia · 4 months

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Unleash the Potential of Your Engine: Explore Bluechem Australia's High-Performance Fuel Additives

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#fuel additives #octane booster #octane booster Australia #petrol additives #petrol additive for car #petrol fuel additives #fuel additives Australia

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formulatrash · 1 year

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hi hazel!

i know this is probably annoying to ask so extremely sorry about this in advance but i’ve been seeing this debate on twitter and it’s so conflicting and I can’t pretend to know enough to understand what people mean by it.

max and christian horner had their opinions that came out about the 2026 engine regulations (as did Damon Hill, Karun and Alex Brundle) and i know they weren’t the most positive. I’ve seen BrrrakeF1’s opinion of it isn’t great either. but i’ve also seen some tweets from others that the regs aren’t bad. (i haven’t really seen any other team mention anything about the 2026 regs except redbull and maybe toto said something)

so are they bad? or good? i know it’s not as simple as that, of course but there seems to be a bit of a fight brewing around this now which i wasn’t actually aware of before.

I think the main problem is that 2026 is effectively tomorrow, in terms of developing a completely new power unit concept and that some ambiguities and potential changes are still in the works.

(this got long)

(also this is not an annoying ask anon! I actually know about power units haha - it's the wag stuff I don't know anything about)

2026 moves to 50-50 internal combustion and electrical power to the drivetrain. That is a big shift from the current hybrid systems, which are somewhere around 8-11% electric power. That's not an exact number; the overall output of an ICE and of course the hybrid system is both down to how efficiently it's running and any constraints on its performance (needing to run the ICE lower for reliability etc) as well as a regulatory maximum of 120kW contribution from the motor.

But it's somewhere, ideally, around there. At most tracks, obviously some of them like Monaco there's less call for maximum power output but you get the idea, it's going to be a big shift.

There are lots of other changes, in how that number is got to; MGU-H is going, which is a pretty uncontested idea. MGU-H is (basically, I'm oversimplifying but) a turbine that runs off exhaust gases and given that, of course only applies to hot-running petrol/diesel combustion engines.*

That's not a technology that's either practical for road cars or the direction that OEMs are taking development in, as well as being expensive and complicated. It was repeatedly cited by manufacturers as a reason not to come back or join F1, so removing it was a done deal.

MGU-K is a non-negotiable part of a hybrid system, it's the part of the powertrain that recovers energy from braking but is also the motor, like in an electric car. Nothing goes to the drivetrain from the electric parts without MGU-K, so that was of course staying and the increased importance of it comes with the development of motors for EVs. Especially recovery systems from braking and lift/coast for range extension.

With that, you need a battery and an inverter and a control system, etc. The scale-up of that to be a larger percentage of the overall power does add weight to the overall power unit and there isn't a way around that, although cars will also be lighter (at race start) due to lower fuel loads.

(worth saying that F1 is currently heavier, at full fuel load, than Formula E; trying to have both is in some ways the worst option)

None of that is really bad or good or what's being argued over, which is a second set of regulations around active aero. In order to compensate for the cars being heavier, in theory at least, the bodywork will actively shift to reduce drag on straights. Like DRS but in a more complex, whole-car way.

"Wait, that sounds insane and also like it would need lots of additional wiring and movement systems to engineer" yea.

I personally think it's a driver aide, if it's not entirely controlled by the driver and also that it's unnecessary. The 919 LMP1-H ran at close to 50% electric energy a lot of the time and it only had a few different aero configurations for the year, let alone a lap.

The active bodywork will need to work closely with the PU, which of course is always the case with a car's bodywork; airflow and cooling the power unit (or even just a pure combustion engine, which of course literally needs to breathe) are essential parts of making a car efficient. But this is more than packaging, it's that parts of the chassis will need to respond to the same ECU as the power unit.

And none of that is really clarified yet. Which given the development lead times is a huge problem. So: it's not that the regulations are good or bad yet, per se it's that they are not yet settled. *Differentiating between hot and cold running because race cars obviously run like blast furnaces compared to a road car, even if you compared two V6s. But also because if you were to apply MGU-H to, for instance, a hydrogen combustion engine, then it would be very inefficient and not generate anything because of the different exhaust outputs.

#f1 asks

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beardedmrbean · 10 days

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Helsingin Sanomat has an analysis piece on a recent scandal over a post made by Finns Party MP and party vice-president Mauri Peltokangas on social media. In it, Peltokangas lauded an Ostrobothnian retailer for the lack of 'Mogadishu dialects' to be heard there, and said he had seen no 'camels or flying carpets' in the car park.

The post was almost identical to one he had made before, and was prosecuted for incitement over. Prosecutors argued that his comments were intended to portray asylum seekers as backward, and denigrated their cultures.

He was acquitted that time, and when questioned this week said there was nothing racist in it and pointed to the court verdicts.

HS suggests that this is part of the party's twin track messaging. For the general audience, Peltokangas is saying that he is staying within the bounds of legal discourse and courts have ruled he is not inciting hatred. But to his own supporters, he's signalling that nothing has changed.

He's "playing the hits", according to HS, and it seems to be part of the party's communication strategy. As evidence it notes party leader Riikka Purra's response to the post, where she commented that perhaps petrol is now so cheap camels are not the preferred mode of transport.

HS says this is in line with comments from party leaders in the summer, that they had been too "nice" since joining the government and that's why their polling numbers had dropped.

Traditionally the party has attacked the government's immigration policy, but it is now unable to do so as it is the government. Therefore creative ways must be found to say what works with voters, and that means, according to HS, the "playing the hits" strategy.

Skater staying Finnish, father frustrated

Finnish skateboarder, 13-year-old Heili Sirviö, announced last week that she would continue to represent Finland, despite holding dual Australian-Finnish nationality.

She had finished fifth in the Olympics, winning the hearts of Finnish viewers, but that was achieved without any funding from the Finnish Olympic Committee.

Ilta-Sanomat reports on Wednesday that Heili's father Fredu Sirviö remains dissatisfied with the committee, saying that nobody in a senior position had been in touch to ask how they are doing after the Olympics.

The committee's position has been that under-16s are not eligible for financial support. That is unlikely to change, and Sirviö had made noises about his daughter switching allegiance to represent Australia as a result.

He says that Heili's broad popularity and subsequent sponsorship offers from Finnish firms have warmed his heart, and helped them decide to stay with Finland.

After the games Matti Heikkinen and Leena Paavolainen, both senior figures at the Olympic Committee heavily involved in financial support decisions, were relieved of their duties.

In addition Jan Vapaavuori, chair of the committee, said he would not seek a new term in office.

Sirviö was not unhappy about any of these decisions.

"At least according to the Olympic Committee statement, the message is that more investment will go into elite sport and medal hopefuls," said Sirviö. "If that is the direction the committee wants to take, I hope they include us in their promise."

Weather shift possible

September has been relatively warm so far, but this weekend could see a transition to more seasonal conditions.

Iltalehti reports that Sunday is forecast to bring temperatures below 15 degrees on the south coast, with colder conditions further north and even the first snow possible in Lapland.

Temperatures in the north will be lower than ten degrees in any case, giving a taste of what's to come for the next seven months.

#nunyas news #updates from up north

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sunrisesurprisesblog · 24 days

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Ford ST : The Sportscar

Ford is a name that holds significance for drivers across multiple generations globally. Ford, being one of the leading manufacturers, has produced some of the market's most famous vehicles, ranging from high-performance hot hatches to durable SUVs.

Ford offers a wide range of vehicles, including their performance lineup which includes Ford RS and Ford ST models. Though they both have attracted loyal fans in the car enthusiast community, we will concentrate on the second one.

Let's delve deep into the background, features, and the different models available of the Ford ST.

The history of Ford ST:

Ford ST originates from the 1990s, during which Ford opted to add a touch of athleticism to certain models. The ST badge was launched in Europe to designate high-performance models in the Ford range.

The initial Ford ST model introduced in 1996 was the Ford Mondeo ST24. It had a 2.5-litre V6 engine that offered improved power and handling qualities in comparison to the regular Mondeo. The ST24 received positive feedback, paving the way for the growth of the ST line.

Throughout the years, Ford continued to enhance and improve the ST lineup by introducing additional models to meet the needs of various market segments. The UK car market witnessed the release of ST versions of well-known classic models, quickly becoming popular for their exciting performance and nimble handling. (Brown, 2023).

The ST line-up has a selection of Ford's most sought-after vehicles, such as:

Ford Fiesta ST A high-performance hot hatch that combines power, precision, and style for an unforgettable experience on the road.

Ford Focus ST Turbocharged power, nimble handling, and an aggressive design that's sure to turn heads.

Ford Puma ST Offering the perfect blend of practicality and performance, this dynamic compact SUV has a lot to offer.

Characteristics:

The 2.0-liter Ecoboost engine in the Ford Focus ST produces 184 kW and 360 Nm of torque. It takes 6.5 seconds to reach 0-100kph, with a maximum speed of 248kph. The fuel efficiency is calculated to be 6.8 liters per 100 kilometers. Auto-Start-Stop is included in the package as well, leading to an increase in fuel efficiency by as much as 6%. This motor is connected to a 6-speed manual gearbox.(Brown, 2023)

The Fiesta stood out with its easy power. The 1,6-liter turbocharged engine delivers 240 N.m of torque starting at 1,600 r/min up to 5,000 r/min. When entering Mpumalanga from Gauteng, simply press the right foot to overtake slower trucks. Having 205/40 R17 tires on its wheels and a firmer suspension setup to ensure the Fiesta ST stays stable on suitable road conditions, I did notice it felt unstable on imperfect pavement. (magazine, 2013)

The Ford Puma ST can be equipped with either a 1.5-liter turbo three-cylinder petrol engine generating 197bhp, or a 168bhp 1.0-liter Powershift version with mild-hybrid technology. The 1.5-liter engine has strong power at low rpm and increases power in a consistently linear manner. With an endorsed 0-62mph time of 6.7 seconds, there are faster sports SUVs available, but the performance is sufficient for it to be an enjoyable driving experience. The Powershift variant takes 0.7 seconds more to reach 0-62mph, making it seem somewhat ordinary compared to other models in its class. Although it remains fairly lively and adaptable for regular driving, there's a slight sense of disappointment when comparing it. Another important distinction between the two engines is that the 1.5-liter option is equipped with a six-speed manual transmission, whereas the Powershift model features a seven-speed automatic transmission. The manual transmission has quick gear changes and optimal gear ratios, allowing you to fully utilize the distinctive engine. The automated transmission smoothly and rapidly changes gears, but manual gear changes can be made using the paddles on the steering wheel if preferred. No matter which engine you choose, the standout feature of the Puma ST is its handling. If you ease off the gas pedal while turning, the car will gradually rotate on its front wheels, helping you steer it accurately out of the corner. (Cheung, 2024)

Conclusion:

These 3 models of Ford's each have their own unique features and capabilities that can be used in different situations to their advantages depending on the driver's current environment and needs/wants.

References:

https://www.evanshalshaw.com/blog/what-is-ford-st/?srsltid=AfmBOopHcWU6B9lMsy8hC2mn4Vh0NPPk2e6Z9NJfcKSOKFk3KrlefHck

https://www.carmag.co.za/driving-impressions-blog/ford-fiesta-st-5/ https://www.whatcar.com/ford/puma/hatchback/review/n22293.

#ford #cars #sport cars

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thoughtlessarse · 4 months

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A herd of 170 bison reintroduced to Romania’s Țarcu mountains could help store CO2 emissions equivalent to removing almost 2m cars from the road for a year, research has found, demonstrating how the animals help mitigate the worst effects of the climate crisis. European bison disappeared from Romania more than 200 years ago, but Rewilding Europe and WWF Romania reintroduced the species to the southern Carpathian mountains in 2014. Since then, more than 100 bison have been given new homes in the Țarcu mountains, growing to more than 170 animals today, one of the largest free-roaming populations in Europe. The landscape holds the potential for 350-450 bison. The latest research, which has not been peer-reviewed, used a new model developed by scientists at the Yale School of the Environment and funded by the Global Rewilding Alliance. It calculates the additional amount of atmospheric CO2 that wildlife species help to capture and store in soils through their interactions within ecosystems. The European bison herd grazing in an area of nearly 50 sq km of grasslands within the wider Țarcu mountains, was found to potentially capture an additional 2m tonnes of carbon a year. That is nearly 9.8 times more than without the bison – although the report authors noted the 9.8 figure could be up to 55% higher or lower, given the uncertainty around the median estimate. This corresponds to the yearly CO2 emissions of 1.88m average US petrol cars. Prof Oswald Schmitz of the Yale School of the Environment in Connecticut in the US, who was the lead author of the report, said: “Bison influence grassland and forest ecosystems by grazing grasslands evenly, recycling nutrients to fertilise the soil and all of its life, dispersing seeds to enrich the ecosystem, and compacting the soil to prevent stored carbon from being released. [...] A keystone species, bison play an important role in ecosystems – their grazing and browsing helps maintain a biodiverse landscape of forests, scrub, grasslands and microhabitats. In the Țarcu mountains, their return has also inspired nature-based tourism and businesses around rewilding. Schmitz noted that the Carpathian grasslands have specific soil and climate conditions, so the effect of the European bison could not necessarily be extrapolated internationally - American prairies, for example, have much lower productivity.

#romania #us research #european bison #carbon sequestration #climate crisis #rewilding #ecosystem restoration

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 2 years

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A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Christmas As A Roamer - The Fifth Christmas

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters, talk of assault, childbirth

Things are bad. Things are really, really bad. Over the last year you’ve hardened both inside and out. You’ll help anyone that crosses your path but you won’t let yourself get attached. But it’s a struggle, especially in an omega shelter. Surrounded by omegas and with the added addition of their pups. They lean on you any opportunity they get, feeling safe in your presence as a witch and white wolf. None of them have roamed for long, mostly running to the nearest place of safety, You’d avoided shelters at first, thinking others more deserving of the limited spaces. Then around the end of September, as you’d loaded your car with groceries you watched an alpha light and throw a petrol can over the wired fence meant to protect the shelter. You surged forward stopping it before it hit the front door and tossed the alpha into the oncoming traffic. You were disappointed when the cars missed him. Tempted to push him back in front of the road, you were stopped as the wind swept passed you. A warning from the goddesses to let the fates handle it. You put out the fire you were still holding midair and turned to walk away as the door creaked open and an older blonde omega woman, dressed in black, edged out a shotgun in hand. A tall thin man of a similar age stood behind her, fire extinguisher in hand. “Wait.” You kept walking. “I said wait!” You tried to keep going but we’re stopped as reeds wrapped around your ankles. You turned and growled. She held up her hands in surrender. “Please. We need your help.” You looked down at your ankles and she called out for you to be released. You went to walk away. “That’s the third attack today and we have pups and expectant mothers inside.” Her southern accent called out to you. You huffed, turned and followed them inside. Oh yeah, that’ll do it pull on my omega heart strings, you thought. “I don’t see why you need me. There’s already a witch here.” As you entered the house you were quick to see the witch you’d detected coming down the stairs. The hallway and stairs were darkly lit, you suspected because of the energy rations. She gripped the rail tightly and held a stick in the other, but it wasn’t your average stick. It was made of wand wood. You’d only ever seen lower scaled witches with wands, a utensil used to focus and channel their powers but they were mostly looked down on. You’d had one when you were six, a gift from a friend of Luna Diana’s to help you practice with your powers. Your stepfather was quick to take it away. But this omega witch was around a scale five. She didn’t need a wand but as she stepped further into the light you saw the reason behind it. Her powers weren’t weak but her body was. Burn scars spread from her neck, up one side of her face and across her eyes. Whatever had happened had also partially blinded her. As she turned slightly you spotted her rounded belly under the black fabric of the dress. A southern drawl spoke into your ear. The older woman from earlier. “And that darling is why we need you here. For her and all the other pregnant women in the house.” “I don’t understand.” “Agatha did that. You’ve heard of her, Agatha, haven’t you?” the woman replied in a sarcastic tone, stepping away from you to a drinks trolley, pouring herself something sweet and strong. “Of course I have.” You looked at the other witch sympathetically. “So it’s true then, she’s taking other witches powers?” Before the witch had time to answer the other woman had. “Oh it’s true alright, look at her, that enough truth!! Or how about this!!” The woman slammed down the glass and began to pull at the leather gloves she was wearing. Your eyes widened and you held your jaw tightly to stop it dropping open. Her hands were as black as night from the tips of her fingers and up passed her wrists. A realisation washed over you. She’d been a witch. “She took everything from me!! She tried to take my daughter, her powers and that pup in her belly. There was no way on this earth I was going to let her take them from me!!” You didn’t know how to respond. The man you’d met at the door, a beta, stepped forward from his quiet corner. “She sacrificed herself, her powers for them.” “I could have taken her!!” The witch suddenly spoke up. “And lose the pup you wanted so badly!! Not a chance.” “I’m stronger than her!!” “With that baby in your belly, you’re weaker and you know it. Agatha’s powers are out of control, unstable. You couldn’t have stopped her.” she paused and turned to you, “you though, you’ve got that white wolf edge, get your powers and your emotions under control and you can take her. You could take on anyone.” She looked at you knowingly. Did she know you’d never had a proper teacher? You’d learnt everything you knew from the few classes Luna Diana had snuck you to as a child, library books and the internet. “I’m guessing you can teach me?” “I can” came the reply. Did you belong here? Probably not? Was this a chance to actually learn something about your powers and learn from those like you? As you heard a baby’s cry, your decision was made. “I’ll stay.” It was now Christmas and you weren’t going home. You couldn’t even if you wanted too. Although your temporary home was now safer with you there, the outside world was far from it. Road closures, lack of fuel, power rations had worsened and then there was the suppressant shortage. Hydra had blown up two labs and factories, with those manufacturers still running on little staff due to the fear of repercussions. The Government agents protecting the gates not giving much reassurance. Omegas tried to spread out their prescriptions by skipping odd days and using natural remedies. Rumours spread that your new home had become a safe haven and women and children of all presentations began to arrive at the door. Every single one was let in. Beds were made of mattresses, sofa cushions, pillows, air beds and yoga mats. Cordelia, the pregnant omega witch, had taken task over the growing of herbs and plants to cover the suppressant shortage. Your added knowledge of fruit and veg growing from your time with Molly helping make the house as close to self sufficient as you could be. Fiona, Cordelia’s mother, had drawn up a rota of housework and chores. “Everyone is welcome but that doesn’t mean you sit on your ass. Earn your keep and your bed.” She seemed harsh in her tone but you had your suspicions that she liked having a house full of women, even if the situation wasn’t ideal. Your job was mostly to keep them safe. Clean up any injuries they arrived with. Help deliver babies. Slip out and get any extra supplies you couldn’t grow or acquire with magic. Your lessons from Fiona making it easier to slip in and out of the house, through the stores and back. You had stopped wandering with your head down and your hood up. “Show them what you are” Fiona had told you, “use you powers for cloaking and slipping away if you have too but that hair on your head is a warning that your bite is as bad as your bark.” She’d snapped her jaws for added effect before walking away. So, that’s what you did. Head up, hood down. Every time you stepped out, the streets were more bare of people and traffic. The few male and female alphas and betas that remained were armed and nodded their heads at you as you passed. The rest had taken off to help with the civil unrest, to try and help the fight against Hydra. It was as you’d stopped in the last store that you heard the buzz of the owners radio. “A treaty formed internationally for peace as each nation now turns its focus on the war at home, against Hydra. There is still no word on missing billionaire and weapons manufacturer, Tony Stark, or Sergeant James Barnes of the special ops unit known as the Howling Commandos. Our troops and those around the world now return home to protect us.” When you return home, Fiona is quietly sat at the kitchen table, chain smoking and drinking whiskey, as she listened to the radio. “You heard it then?” you asked her. “I did and mark my words, things will get worse before they get better.” And they definitely got worse. A national lockdown started two days before Christmas, followed by the power going out on Christmas Eve. A knock at the door brought the house some new witch additions. Agatha and a group of Hydra rogues had attacked a coven school. They’d thankfully got away but many hadn’t. A S.H.I.E.LD agent had sent them in your direction hoping Fiona would give them sanctuary. Fiona and Cordelia had comforted them, as the guest omegas had made up extra beds and made them food by candle light. Your blood boiled as they told you what had happened. The violence, the power snatching, the assaults and forced markings of omegas. Fiona gave you a knowing look, which angered you even more. For a witch with no powers she could still read you like a book. You stormed outside and released your powers down into the ground and up into the sky, a protection shield forming. A sign of protection and a warning to any of Hydras fan club to dare to try your patience. As you heard the sound of explosions and rioting in the distance you came to a realisation. You were done. Put a fork in you. Done. When you turned you found Fiona learning against the door frame, arms crossed, watching you intently. “Well, well, well, I didn’t know you had it in you.” she quipped. “Yes you did.” You were right of course. She did, from the moment she saw you. Christmas Day brought distractions as you set about keeping everyone busy and distracted. You used your magic to heat water so the younger witches could shower and pushed power into the generator so the pups could watch Elf. Then there was a shout and raised voices from the kitchen. Cordelia’s water had broken. Two of the new witches took over keeping everyone busy, entertaining the little ones with basic magic and parlour tricks. The others followed you and Fiona as you helped Cordelia up the stairs. You ordered them to discreetly keep watch at the windows. If word somehow got out that Cordelia was in labour, anyone that knew about witches would know you’d be at her side helping her and that would mean your defenses were lower. There was no way you’d let any harm come to anyone in the house, least of all Cordelia and her baby. Fiona gripped her daughters hand and mopped her brow with a cool flannel, praying to the goddesses to keep her and the baby safe, to keep you all safe. You listened as she slipped into light language here and there, as you situated yourself between Cordelia’s legs to keep an eye on the baby. As the baby neared delivery, you felt the younger witches stiffen and their powers flicker. You locked eyes with Fiona. Someone was near. Another witch. One of the other side of the fight to you. Was it Agatha? Fiona nodded at you and you reached out with one hand and strengthened the shield, crackling it with lightning as a show of force. After a few minutes the girls relaxed. Madison, long hair and attitude, as you’d nicknamed her, spoke first. “The bitch is gone.” A few hours later with the new mum and baby settled, you wandered aimlessly around the house, nursing a glass of Fiona’s latest alcoholic beverage of choice. Where did she even get this stuff? The supply seemed endless. You weren’t sure and you didn’t care as one of the omegas had placed it in your hand in exchange for the dirty sheets you carried. You checked every room, checking on its residents and watched as mothers tucked in their children, holding them close. Would that ever be you? You weren’t sure anymore. Maybe this is why you were here? Why you’d been rejected? To protect others? Again you weren’t sure. You sprinkled a little sleeping spell around as you wandered through the three storey house. Every inch covered by someone sleeping in it. A pup, a teenager, a parent, a worried grandparent, the latter, who found the state of the world all too familiar. As you reached the ground floor you spotted long hair and attitude leaving one of the rooms, sprinkling a spell as she went. “I saw you doing it, thought it was a good idea. Save them from all that craziness outside.” You smiled softly at her. She rolled her eyes at you and put her hands on her hips. “What? It was! Right? I did the right thing?” Goddess she reminded you so much of yourself. Attitude, sass but unsurarity still running through her. You dropped yourself down on the stairs, one of the few spare spots in the house, and tapped the spot beside you. She surprised you when she not only joined you but also turned and laid down, putting her head in your lap. You had tried to avoid situations like this but with a house full of omegas it wasn’t easy. You felt like the fates and goddesses were laughing at you. Of all the people to take the step and seek comfort from you, that you couldn’t escape, it was Madison, the one who was most like you. You knocked back the drink in your hand and placed the glass on the stairs behind you. “You did the right thing sister.” you reassured her as you ran your fingers through her hair. Madison tilted her head back a little to look at you and smiled, replying as she looked away. “Thank you for protecting us, for keeping her away.” You watched as she quickly wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Do you want help to sleep?” you asked. “Please.” she replied as she wiggled to get comfortable. There were better places to sleep but she seemed content enough and if she was like you she’d only snark a reply if you questioned her. “Wake me though if you need to.” You sprinkled a sleeping spell over her and she yawned before reaching for your hand, falling to sleep as she held it tightly. You felt a presence behind you as Fiona took a seat on the stairs. She pulled you back to rest against her as she stroked your hair, just as you had Madison. You couldn’t remember anyone doing this to you. Showing you affection for nothing in return. Fiona watched as you fought back tears. “Let it out child, like I taught you.” You took a deep breath and released the emotions through your powers. The shield flickered as it got stronger. Before you drifted off to sleep, your head on Fiona’s lap. She watched the both of you fondly as you slept. Evidence that the sisterhood of witches remained strong. One of you would soon leave and the other would stay. Fiona felt a lump form in her throat at the thought of one of you leaving, especially as she knew which of you it would be. “Silly old fool. This child is meant for better things.” Meanwhile twenty miles away…………… “We need to head back north!” Rumlow yelled. “No!” Agatha shouted back, as she tried to hold up a shield to protect them from the rapid gunfire. “It’s the only choice, S.H.I.E.L.D have every other exit covered.” “No!” Agatha replied again as she looked at the town they wanted to head to. It was almost deserted but she could sense there were witches, including those that had got away from her a few days ago. But there was something else there. Someone else. She knew, even that far away, that it would be the end of her.

#alpha steve rogers #alpha steve rogers x reader #alpha steve x omega reader #steve rogers x reader #avengers #avengers au #alpha steve rogers x om

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