The World's Fastest ...
Camping at Mount Ive Station (homestead), that
night I drift off to sleep, thoughts of machines scream-
ing into the distance. Tomorrow is another day, tomor-
row could be the day that records tumble.
Looking up, the greatest expanse of stars I have ever
seen, the pre-dawn dark lit by a blanket of pinpricks.
The sky is clear, the air still, today records will fall. It
all looks promising.
Making our way out onto the salt, the still air seems
to buzz with an electrici-
ty. The sun is yet to crest
the horizon, dark figures
move amongst the half-
light, Team 7 are busy
around a long red tor-
pedo shaped machine.
This is the BUB 7, Valerie
Thompson will make a high-speed pass today. Records will
fall.
As the horizon brightens we see numerous media, clam-
ouring for a greater view of the activities, the buzz is in-
creasing. A nervous tension is mounting. We all feel it.
“WHOOP!”, what the hell was that? I look around and see
nothing to indicate what made the noise.
“WHOOP!” Again, what is that?
There’s a few chuckles. The Team 7 technicians know
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