Gaining, but ever so slowly; every klick a tradeoff of motion and distance, eyes locked on the Porsche. Wendy drives like a CanAm machine, under her tutelage our 20 year old Beemer (with a dent) steadily gaining on the 935. The first 935 I have seen on public asphalt. Actually the first one I have seen period. We bask in the shadow of royalty, no, more like gods. 'Sure is an ugly color.' This from Wendy. Two car lengths behind now my face squished against the windshield so tightly I feel the bee that smackes the outside of the glass. Its getting away! This, as Wendy effects a brilliant move across three lanes, dead centering our exit. Clear of the 25 mph traffic jam, we turn the Beemer into the setting sun just as the 935 valiantly makes it into second gear.
