Washboard Incline

A discarded sheet of corrugated steel leaned against a low foundation curb. A steep, wavy washboard ramp. Ridges spaced two finger-widths apart. No hesitation. I shifted into high gear and rammed the galvanized edge head-on. The bumper took the initial strike with a loud, hollow rattle, pitching my nose straight skyward. Tires clawed the zinc troughs, screaming against bare metal as the chassis shuddered across every ridge. Undercarriage took three rapid-fire scrapes on the crests, but momentum didn't stall. I clawed over the top lip and landed all four wheels flat on the concrete curb. Good traction. High vantage locked in.