Logged dozens of trips down 78, 550, 26 and more on the way to Athens in a nicely track prepped vintage 911, at a "brisk" pace. Especially beautiful in the fall. But on one trip, I looked in the rearview mirror to see a mom with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, busy slapping the unbelted kids in the back seat of a rusty heap that was hanging on my tail. Clearly, she knew every twist and blind decreasing radius turn of this Appalachian Nurburgring Nordschleife!
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