Kaelin Clendenin

The Journey of Stella

A cold breeze flowed through Will's fingertips as the salted air wisped off from the Pacific Ocean crisping each breath of his lungs. The faint smell of seaweed pierced his nostrils as he floored the gas on the gleaming red Targa-Top Porsche 911 around a shallow right bend, feeling the vast mechanical grip of the sport tires as he flew around another crest on Highway 101. The seductive roar of the Porsche's Flat-6 engine was reverberating along the sandstone cliffside, echoing the hauntingly beautiful symphony of balanced cylinders perfectly in rotation at 6,000 revolutions per minute. Approached a cambered left-hand turn, Will fluttered his right toe on the brake pedal slowing the 911 into the corner, simultaneously pushing the clutch pedal to the sweet spot as he downshifted from 3rd gear to 2nd. The RPMs jumped up again with a rush of controlled violence. The Porsche was balancing the fine line of chaos and order every time the balls of his feet work against the cold steel pedals. Will knew that there was no other way to relish the beauty of a classic German sports car than on a sunny mid-afternoon where the rays of light flashed brilliantly reflecting the vast detail job his father and him had performed the prior weekend on the 911. A spotless, mirror-like finish on the Porsche's brilliantly eye-catching red paint was completed as a sign of respect to the last drive Will and his father will ever feel with that German beauty.