Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Canada, Qualifying

"These conditions could make or break the race for some drivers."

⸻

CANADA
8TH RACE WEEKEND OF THE SEASON
JUNE

Qualifying looks like it's going to be a nightmare. I'm sat in the car, first to want to leave the pit lane the instant the light goes green, and all I can smell is grass and a strong earthy scent that tells me we are absolutely going to have some more rain soon.

Earlier, in the last of the three free practice sessions, we had chaotic weather, and I'm surprised Ferrari managed to get Sainz's car fixed in time after that nasty smash. I'm worried that inters might not be enough. The water isn't entirely standing, but the weather radar wasn't promising earlier, and the smell of grass is getting stronger.

I head out as the pit lane exit opens. My intermediate tyres are way too cold for me to get a flying lap in after warmup, so I'll go for a bank-a-lap first. As I get the warmup lap done and dusted, I start putting the throttle down, flooring it as I risk—

Nevermind, I think, as my dashboard tells me yellow flags are up.

Sector 2. I slow down, passing by a stranded Alfa Romeo as the flags are extended to both sectors 1 and 2. Thankfully, its off the track, but my flying lap is ruined. I trundle over the start line and five seconds later, the session is red-flagged. At least I have a banked lap. But I have to return to the pit lane now.

"Which driver is that in the Alfa?" I'm curious. I didn't really pay enough attention going past it.

"Kimi. He's got it moving again, but the red flag is staying for now."

Fuck, I think, as my car slowly enters the pit lane, where it's jacked up and wheeled into the garage as they attach all the fans and ice-loaded leafblowers to the air intakes. We have to wait a couple of minutes, and as Räikkönen comes in, we're all out again. This time I'm behind the Red Bulls. I wave at Daniel, and he waves back.

"Can you tell Daniel's engineer to tell Daniel I love him?"

"Uh... Sorry, repeat that?" Mateo sounds rightfully confused.

I laugh at him, with the TALK button still depressed. "You heard me!"

As we head out again, I could swear it's starting to rain. By turn 5, I'm very sure it's raining now. Not badly, but persistently. It's not the end of the world; we're on inters as it is, which is fine for light rain. But if it gets worse, I will make the call to switch early to full wets.

I come round the last turn, and as I'm running over the line, I have to watch out, because I'm going to run into the drivers that left the pit late; my time is a nice one minute, twenty-four seconds, point six five nine. I'm nice and high up, but I'm not holding off. We want two flying laps off the bat, just in case things get worse. I'm thankfully staying inside the track limits, but that chicane right at the end of the last two turns can be a nightmare. It's tripped me up before - in free practice - and I know it could get me again as the wind becomes gusty again.

The track has better grip, my second flying lap gets me a nice one minute twenty-three point one five five. I would have hit the pits as I do my cooldown lap, but Mateo has other ideas.

"Keep your foot down. Go for another. Rain expected very soon. Take advantage now."

"Copy."

I have to take it risky, braking late, despite the lack of grip on half the track, because my slowing down will have cost me time. My third flying lap gets me higher, I reckon: one minute, twenty-two seconds, point five eight zero. It's not perfect, but the tyres aren't going to make another lap. I have to come in... but I can't risk it. This track is tight for times.