Seeing is not doing. You see some mildly banged-up sedans whipping around on a snow-globe-white track with a few orange cones laid about, and it all looks placid enough. The cars don’t top highway speeds. There’s no traffic. The winter wonderland is sparkling under clear blue skies. But inside that cockpit it’s a sweat chamber. Both feet pump the pedals — right the accelerator, left the brakes — the hands are light and quick on the wheel, the eyes are up ahead, two turns down the course. Everything happens fast. The engine whines under the hood. Snow crunches under winter tires. And the still world outside — that world of the viewer — passes by only in a blur.
But while the world inside the car is wild, from the outside, a wide-angle view makes that vehicle’s motion — the big tails of snow, slow-mo drifts and corners pulled tight — seem orchestrated, collected, and (dare we say) beautiful.
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