Slotted Iron Circuit

Out on the open sidewalk, a massive cast-iron storm drain grate lay sunken right along the curb edge, its thick parallel slots spaced just wide enough to swallow an axle if you got sloppy. A warning sign? No way, that's a high-stakes track section. I lined up along the asphalt shoulder, gripped the wheel hard, and gunned it diagonally across the iron bars. Front tires clipped the heavy ribbed metal with loud metallic thuds, bouncing the nose up, but I pinned the steering dead-center. The rear slicks skated across the wet cast iron, caught traction on the far concrete lip, and vaulted us back onto the flat pavement. Flawless line, zero slip into the abyss.