The Brickyard

Wind and Rain

Rain, rain, go away, was the English nursery rhyme. There was no German equivalent, but the boys with Honda, her engine provider, were probably singing that right now.

A drab gray had settled over Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Kathrin buried herself in her jacket, coffee in hand, watching the rain underneath suites hanging over along pit road, in front of a garage and in a pit area that she hoped/suspected Michael Schumacher and Ferrari used when they raced here. Come the 500, temporary bleachers will be here, to hold some of the many thousands expected on Race Day.

Today, the only people at the track were the drivers and other members of the Honda teams, including hers. Chevy teams had won the Grand Prix of Indianapolis—run on the IMS infield road course originally built for the F1 US Grand Prix the track hosted from 2000 to 2007, but slightly re-configured after the disastrous 2005 event—three years in a row.

If only they'd brought enough rain tyres for an eight-hour test!

The coffee was... alright. It came from a café near the track called "McDonald's". Honestly, she'd never had coffee from the Golden Arches, and it was... alright. Nothing to write home about. Definitely better than the "food". It did do its job, waking her up and keeping her warm on a chilly, rainy Tuesday, waiting to get back in her car for the first time in a week. Why didn't IndyCar have a race in the final week of April? These Americans made no sense. It could be worse, of course, but her tapping foot telegraphed to everyone that she wanted to drive and go vroom.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Driver's peripheral vision, about as close to a rabbit's as a human can get. It was just some dude walking past, a member of another team.

Bored, she pulled out her phone, opened Instagram, clicked the "+" button, and took a selfie of herself looking away from the camera, but out at the track. She posted the selfie with a "Hefe" filter with the caption "At the track, #grinding." Immediately, her notifications started blowing up, her fans excited to see some social media content. Some of the likes and comments even came from drivers she knew were at the track, because she had just seen them earlier. Okay, the most obvious reason for that was they were just as bored as she was and happened to be on their phones as well.

... Wait, some of them had social media teams.

Several more moments passed, and the rain didn't let up. Huffing, she walked back towards Gasoline Alley, and her garage by extension.

Hans oversaw the crew making some minor adjustments to the engine, but from his stance, he looked ready to spring into action if he saw anyone make an adjustment he didn't like. Kathrin chuckled, rubbing her hand through her short hair.

"I'll call you when I need you," he told her without taking his eyes of the car. She closed her eyes and sighed through her nose. She'd been waiting!

Boredom was the enemy. It was an insidious enemy, dulling everything around her.

"Actually, I do need to talk to you."

Her heart stopped. Had she done something wrong? He sounded serious. Ignoring the knot in her chest, she walked slowly back to Hans, averting her eyes from his surprisingly amused expression. "Am I in trouble?" she asked.

"Of course not!" he laughed. "I just wanted to explain the tyres." She released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. He took two F*restone tyres, one solid black, the other had a red band around the perimeter, and displayed them both for her to see. "The black tyres are primaries. These are used everywhere and are very durable, but slow on road courses. The red tyres are alternates. They're faster but wear out quicker than the black tyres. These are only used on road and street courses."