The air was cold; thin... sharp. It bit at my cheeks, my nose, my ears. With each inhale i could feel it cut into my chest. Yeah. i was out in the garage with Bruce. He parked the Testarossa in the driveway while we took a detailed look at his brand new lift. Red. With Scuderia badges on the two pillars closest to the garage door. Yeah. Heavy breathing exhaled white breath from the Tubis. The wide rear of this yellow work of art snatched my attention, gripping it tight. Snowflakes were slowly making their way downward. It was very surreal. Bruce looks at the yellow beast, motionless in the driveway. "Hey, man, why don't you take the car out for a spin..." "Seriously...?!?" i was aglow. Nothing stirs me like driving a Ferrari. "Yeeeeeeah, take it out, slap it around, pop wheelies, i don't care, do whatever you want..." "Awesome...!" i could barely speak. i was too excited. Yeah! i'm not too fond of this weather but an engine certainly enjoys big gulps of cold air...! Worn, cold-beaten leather Ferrari driving gloves wrapped around my hands. i opened the door, turned away, bent at the waist and sank into the driver's seat. i turned my legs into the car and was ready to go. After easing down the driveway, going out into the street on a slant, i brought the shifter down from reverse into first and, just like that, i was gone. i took my time through town. i had a DEStination but no rush to get there. There's a twisty, one-lane-each-way scenic route out here that just begs to have something stretched on it. And stretch i did. i continued through town, making my way to the "run" way, listening to the symphony behind me as i drove. The engine makes so many different noises. The loud, bassy rumble, the higher-pitched wail that comes from acceleration and the faint whistling from the exhaust when you down shift. It truly is music. Just after turning onto the road that preluDES the scenic dash, i crept along, steering away from construction-filled pot holes and the like. The speed limit is 25. Right as you come up to the beginning of the new route, it turns to 50. With no one behind me, i let the car slow down even more. Crawling along in second gear, i saw the 50MPH speed limit sign only a few yards ahead. i shifted down into 1st, wanting to start my acceleration from the very first gear this awesome machine has to offer. Down into first with a dip into the throttle to ease out the revs, i released the clutch and firmly leaned into the pedal on the right. Everything on either side of me quickly blurred then vanished as i pushed the pedal down, further, accelerating my acceleration. The engine's pitch told me i was nearing redline and a quick glance at the tach confirmed. Shift. The tach needle fell quickly until i was, once again, off the clutch. Back on the gas, it quickly rose. My eyes darted over to the speedometer and watched as that needle made headway to the right, as well. The tach needle was closing in fast on 7 grand and i was ready to shift again. Geez... i was barely touching the gas. i brought the shifter down to 3rd and held. It was only a handful of seconds ago that i was in 1st and now here am, at twice the speed limit. Better tone it down. i brought it down to 60 as i watched oncoming traffic in the distance drive past me, dwarfing itself in my rearview mirror. i was between 4 and 5 thousand RPMs and the exhaust note was making love to my ears. Some more pressure on the loud pedal quickly brought me back up to triple digits where i held for some turns, then continued to push the speedometer needle to the right. Back and forth, up and down with speeds, i stretched out 3rd and 4th gear quite a bit. 'Hey,' i thought,'i can't leave out fifth...' So i didn't. Onward i pressed, ripping through the country side. Pushing, going, faster, harder, more, MORE, MORE! If the speedometer were a clock, it was definitely afternoon and getting later and later by the second. The engine's orchestra played loudly as the feeling of propelling through the land invigorated me. i was alive. Reluctantly, i pulled away from the gas, eventually slowing down to make a u-turn so i could go back and do it again. And that's exactly what i did. i was nothing more than a blur; a yellow zipper, streaming through the middle of nature's jacket, opening her up. With every climb through each gear, with each shift, i bee-lined, full force, back to where i came from. Everything in the distance so quickly became everything i was so quickly distancing myself from. 5th gear was put to good use. Once back in town, i fell in with the speed limit, making my way back to Bruce's house. The car growled and snarled at the road though, griping, begging, demanding to go back. To return, to once again, run free. To go back to the wild; its habitat, its home. In due time, i thought; in due time. Thanks, Bruce.