High-Banked Leaf Drift

The blacktop driveway sloped down toward the street—wide-open straightaway. I throttled up! Tires hummed against the gritty asphalt, speed climbing in a heartbeat. Ahead, the breeze had swept a dense, curved wall of dry autumn leaves tight against the concrete curb. A banked turn! Swerve around? Never. I punched the throttle, pitched hard left, and slung into a furious power slide. Crack-crunch! My chrome rear bumper clipped the curled edge of an oak leaf, shattering it into flying amber confetti. Counter-steered, snapped back in line, and rolled out smooth onto the curb apron. Nailed the apex.