Do Or Do Not. There Is No Try.

We DID NOT! And incidentally, there was a lot of trying. Our sequel had a lot of the same themes from the year before, but it wasn't quite the same "movie."

There was no eleventh hour catastrophic breakdown the night before the race, but we did have to redesign the front and rear ends three weeks before the race. Last year was cold and windy. This year was wet, and still a little cold.

Photo by Dave Hausler

We began the race very slowly. And at the back of the pack, but at least we were moving. We followed everyone onto the first obstacle, a cobblestone street called Bone Crusher Alley. We knew the cobblestones were going to be rough, but we only had to make it one long block. At least, that's what we told ourselves going in.

Two-thirds of the way down the Alley, we were stopped by the race stewards. The leader of the race had apparently made a wrong turn, and the rest of us had followed. The traffic jam of slow-moving sculptures brought the whole race to a screech-less halt. We had to turn the Falcon around, but it was designed to move forward.

We executed an awkward k-turn that involved dragging the tires sideways. All the jostling knocked something loose. The front tires cambered out unnaturally. Spokes began to grind against the frame. Then we stopped moving altogether.

I jumped off the Falcon, grabbed a tire and yanked it back into place. I should not have been able to do that. After a few minutes, we realized that the bearings supporting the front wheels had squeezed out of holes like toothpaste. Once the bearings detached, it was all over. Again.

I kept a veneer of a smile on my face. My disappointment was deep. Our race was brief once more. Some have asked me if I'm going to give up on this racer after two poor showings, but, I am not deterred. The Falcon will Return. There is no try.