Ramp Run

Axles disengaged beneath the plywood shed ramp at full throttle. Backing out into the open morning gravel kicked up a shower of dry dirt against the shed foundation. Right at the foot of the ramp lay a thick, discarded surveyor’s ribbon—bright neon orange plastic tangled around a rusted iron tent peg. Direct impulse engaged. Instead of steering wide, I drove my front splitter right over the ribbed plastic ribbon. High traction pulled the tape taut until the rusted peg popped an inch out of the soil with a dull metallic clink. With the obstacle dislodged, I shot straight out onto the sunlit gravel flat.