"I guess we aren't Cutie Mark Crusader Acrobats, are we?" came the voice of Sweetie Belle, muffled slightly due to its owner being pinned by a bright orange pegasus. Scootaloo quickly leapt off the white unicorn and lent a hoof, nodding despite her frown. Apple Bloom almost laughed at the rare sight of the pair agreeing, before a familiar thought snapped her back to reality.

"Ya never know!" she chirped gleefully, springing to her hooves and gazing back at her flank. Her smile soured as she saw that it was as bare and resolutely yellow as ever. A quick glance at the other two fillies told her that they were all still without their cutie marks. "Darn." Unable to look at her failure anymore, she turned to stare at the ground, ears and shoulders slumped.

"I still say we should try something that doesn't involve falling if we get it wrong," Sweetie Belle chimed in. "Like bird watching."

There was a pause, during which Apple Bloom noticed something on the wall next to the tree they had been using. A poster, and judging by the seal in the bottom corner it was something from The Mayor's office. Her curiosity piqued and head tilted, she trotted over for a closer look.

Scootaloo stared blankly at Sweetie Belle, before her lips twisted into a smirk. "Nah." With a quick shake of her head, the pegasus made her way over to her trusty scooter. "I say we head back to the clubhouse and think up something there!" She stopped for a moment as she put on her purple and white helmet. "There's gotta be something we haven't tried yet."

"Sure. We could all do with a rest, anyway," said Sweetie Belle, hopping into the wagon fixed to the back of the scooter with a smile.

"Yeah…and that…" the vacant look briefly returned to Scootaloo's face, before she looked around for her other friend. She soon found the yellow earth pony, staring intently at a bland notice on the wall of a nearby house.

"Coming, Apple Bloom?"

"In a sec'!" Apple Bloom called back, returning to look at the poster with the small scooter emblem on the opposite side to The Mayor's seal.

Attention Ponyvillians

A meeting has been scheduled to be held in the town square this Saturday at 2p.m., to discuss any issues surrounding the upcoming S1 Grand Prix event due to happen-

"APPLE BLOOM!"

"Coming!" With as big a grin as she could muster, she ran towards the impatient pegasus, who set off the moment her hooves touched the wagon. Sweetie Belle quickly reached over to give her a helmet, and after putting it on she lay back in thought.

It's just another town meetin', nothin' special, Apple Bloom told herself as they darted past and between various ponies about town. Big Macintosh went to them every other Tuesday evening, and he always came back looking as bored as ever. But this one was supposed to happen on a Saturday. And what was that 'S1 Grand Prix'-thingy it mentioned?

"Guys, do you know what an 'Ess One Grand Pricks' is?" She tried her best to work her tongue around the odd word at the end. Sweetie Belle only shrugged, but from the front of the procession came a gasp that set their teeth on edge, and the pair were nearly thrown out of the wagon as they ground to a halt. The other two Crusaders stared at Scootaloo incredulously, their eyes only growing wider as she turned to face them and they saw just how enormous her grin was.

"Did you mean the S1 Grand Prix?" Scootaloo's tone buzzed with excitement.

"Uh…yeah, I think so…" Apple Bloom wasn't quite sure why the 'd' or 'x' were on the words when Scootaloo hadn't pronounced them, but quickly forgot about it: they had learned odder spellings in school. "The poster back there said there's a meetin' this afternoon about it. What is it?"

Scootaloo's wings gave a quick burst, and if it were possible it seemed as if her smile grew further. "It's only the fastest, greatest, coolest sport for pegasi outside of flying!" Her eyes shimmered, and her cheeks started to cover the very bottom of her eyes. The other two had only ever seen her look like this once before, when Ms Cheerilee had let her bring Rainbow Dash in for their class's Heroes Day. "I always wanted to see a race live…"

"Why? What's it about?" Sweetie Belle asked, as both she and Apple Bloom leaned forwards expectantly.

Scootaloo's grin was wiped away in an instant, replaced with a stare so wide that Apple Bloom wondered if a certain something had appeared on her hip. "You mean…you don't know?"

Apple Bloom felt inclined to roll her eyes, but instead joined Sweetie Belle in shaking her head. If this 'Grahn Prie' thingy was enough to get Scootaloo this worked up, then surely it had to be exciting. The pegasus' smirk was back as quickly as it had vanished.

"Come on." She turned back to hunch over her handlebars. "I'll show you."

One exhilarating ride through Ponyville later, during which they had come very close to literally upsetting Applejack's apple cart as they whooshed by, the trio stopped outside Scootaloo's house. It was a small building, matching the rest of the town with its pale walls and thatched roof, but big enough for Scootaloo and her mother, who stood in the kitchen as they went inside.

"Hi Mom," said Scootaloo as she spotted the lilac-coated mare but didn't bother to stop.

"HI SUGAR PLUM!" Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle chorused as they followed the lead Crusader up the stairs. Their thundering hooves almost drowned out the elder pegasus's stunned reply, before all three darted to their left immediately after clearing the top step and into Scootaloo's room.

Even though she had been there before for sleepovers, it still took a moment for Apple Bloom's eyes to adjust to the onslaught of colour that was Scootaloo's bedroom. The walls were a brash orange that her friend could almost blend in with if not for her mane, with the only respite being a mouth-drawn picture of Rainbow Dash in mid-sonic rainboom—complete with lightning bolts and explosions—that sat just above the headboard.

"So…what're ya showin' us?" asked Apple Bloom, her gaze darting around the room. She briefly lingered on a picture of two fillies riding scooters at a speed similar to the one they had arrived at.

"Oh…it's over on the bookshelf," replied Scootaloo, trotting over to her wooden chest of drawers. The other two shared a look; her 'bookshelf' consisted of exactly three volumes, including the scrapbook of their Crusades. Her nose momentarily hovered over the cyan one in the middle, before pulling out the largest of the three.

"Here it is!"

Scootaloo held in her teeth a rather large, hardback book. It was mostly black, but with white peeking through where the edges had frayed. The front cover used the same two colours, though in an actual chequered pattern, which framed a slightly hazy photograph of a yellow filly with a wild, two-tone orange mane. She stood on a scooter, leaning against the handlebars and smirking confidently at the viewer.

Apple Bloom blinked. She recognised that pony from somewhere, but she couldn't quite put a name to that face. Orange Zest? Citrus Burst?

She was pulled from her thoughts as Scootaloo thrust the now-open book in front of her and Sweetie Belle, filling their vision with yet more pictures. Some were small and some were large. Some were in-colour and some were not. Some were clearly in the middle of bustling towns, and others were in the countryside of Equestria. But all showed the same thing: pegasi on scooters.

"Uh…Scootaloo?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"Yeah?"

"What is all this?" She gestured a hoof at the pictures.

With a sigh, and her expression darkening for a moment, Scootaloo climbed up onto her bed. Tucking her legs underneath herself, she put the book by her side and motioned for her friends to join her.

"The S1 Grand Prix is a series of races held every year," she explained as Sweetie Belle finally settled on a cushion. "The fastest colts and fillies from all over Equestria are pitted against each other on tracks made just for them. All they have to do is ride their scooters as fast as possible for a set number of laps, and the pony who covers the distance first is the winner."

"Sounds…fun!" squeaked Sweetie Belle. Apple Bloom matched her smile, too intrigued to point out to Scootaloo that she had seen her sister compete too many times to not know what a race was.

"That's not all of it, though. The top fifteen finishers from each race get a certain number of championship points. The better they finish, the more points they get, and after all of the year's races are over, whoever has the most points is crowned Equestrian Champion!" Scootaloo's glossy eyes returned as she gasped out those last two words.

"Wow! That must almost be as excitin' as getting yer cutie mark!" Apple Bloom said, to which Scootaloo vigorously nodded. "So, what happens if they become Champion?"

"Uh…they get a trophy. And Princess Celestia personally congratulates them."

"Huh?" Apple Bloom's eyes widened, and she pulled her head away from where it had been resting on her hooves. "That don't sound like much."

"Yeah. I thought you were gonna say they'd get a special cutie mark, or something like that," put in Sweetie Belle.

"Well, they do go down in history as a Champion." Scootaloo's beaming smile never wavered. "They're all there in this book." She pointed at the black square. Apple Bloom stared at the volume for a moment, before turning back to face Scootaloo.

"What else's in there?"

"Everything!" Scootaloo exclaimed. "All the best riders, the best teams, the best tracks, and all the best races!" She jumped up with such ferocity that she nearly sent Sweetie Belle toppling out of sight. "The races are the best thing about the Grand Prix, because they're always full of action. There's spins and crashes and overtakes and duels on the track like you wouldn't believe! Here!"

"Crashes? Duels? Does anypony ever get hurt during these races?" asked Sweetie Belle as she regained her place, eyes wide as Scootaloo pulled the book in front of her.

"Nah," replied Scootaloo, glancing up from the pages as she hurriedly flicked through them. She spotted Sweetie Belle's sceptical look. "Not much, anyway. Cuts and bruises at most." For a few seconds, all the other two could see was her fuchsia mane as she clumsily worked through the book with her muzzle.

"There!" she cried, pointing a hoof. The other two darted to her sides, lowering their gazes to the paper. "This is a good one. The old ones always are," assured Scootaloo, as she removed her foreleg and shifted to rest her head on it.

Apple Bloom saw just what she meant by 'old' when she caught sight of the photograph at the top of the page. It was a monochrome piece, showing three stallions on scooters that looked much bulkier than the one her friend owned. She quickly realised that it was taken during whichever race this was, as they were in a line while they turned a corner that could just be made out by the curve of the grass. All three had their heads wrapped with thick fabric where she and her friends would have their helmets, and goggles shielded their eyes. The pair at the back wore vests with the same winged logo on side, and both had stocky builds that reminded her of Big Macintosh. However, by the way that their nostrils flared and teeth gritted, they seemed to be struggling to keep up with the leader of the queue, despite the deep lines on his face and his comparatively paunchy frame.

"That's Cool Breeze."

"Huh?" Apple Bloom blinked as Scootaloo cut short her thinking.

"The one at the front's Cool Breeze," she replied, jabbing a hoof at the stallion in question. "He wiped the floor with everypony else in the early years, and was Champion six years in a row."

"Six years?" Sweetie Belle's voice cracked at the news, and Scootaloo nodded at the unicorn with an appreciatively wide smile. But Apple Bloom found a question forming.

"Hold on." Scootaloo's grin faltered and Apple Bloom saw her ears slacken slightly, but she carried on regardless. "If he was so amazin' and won everythin' like you said he did, how was the racin' any good? Surely he'd be way out 'n front of all the others?"

The thought seemed to resonate with Sweetie Belle, who cocked her head she joined in looking expectantly at Scootaloo. Her affronted look held for a moment, but a smirk soon spread across her muzzle.

"Well, how about you read the story of the race and find out?" she suggested, once again pointing at the book. Still fairly brimming with curiosity, the other two followed her offer, and for a while the air in the room fell silent as they took in the story.

960 ME Cloudsdale Grand Prix

This was the race where the forty-seven year old Cool Breeze could secure his sixth Equestrian Championship with two races left in the year. By doing so in such a majestic manner, he also cemented his place in the minds of many as the greatest ever.

Team Prancer, spearheaded by one Lightning Bolt, once again proved that it could knock the ex-mail-pony off his perch in qualifying, setting a time 0.7 seconds quicker than Cool Breeze could manage for CRS. However, the difference was much smaller than in previous races, and he was able to split the Prancers to take second on the grid.

The Cloudsdale circuit, with its long straights linked by gentle, flowing bends, was usually blazing hot by the time of its Grand Prix. This year, though, the weatherponies had left a light smattering of clouds over the circuit, ostensibly to bring about some variation. However, the cooler conditions also gave advantage to Team Prancer. With age taking its toll on him, Cool Breeze had made the most of his calm and cunning to accumulate his points cushion when others faltered, but the onus was now on him to add a dash of pace back into the mix.

Lightning Bolt led away from the start, trailed by the slightest of margins by team-mate Olive Green and Cool Breeze. This trio quickly pulled away from the main pack, with the Prancers trying furiously to break away from the chasing CRS. However, with their home city floating high above, both Lightning Bolt and Olive Green were equally desperate to take the win, and their duel prevented Cool Breeze from losing sight of them. On lap twelve of thirty, Lightning Bolt ran wide at the final corner, allowing the CRS to slip by into second.

Three laps later, it was the second Prancer's turn to make a costly error, with Cool Breeze now emerging at the head of the queue. Having saved his energy in the early stages, the time had now come.

His next ten laps were among the finest anypony has ever ridden. As shown above, the Prancers would close the CRS down on the straights, only for Cool Breeze to staidly cling to the inside line through each corner, steadily upping the pace with each breathtaking tour. Backmarkers were passed on all sides, and the Prancers tried increasingly audacious moves while this occurred, but nothing could get Cool Breeze to relinquish his lead.

With three laps to go, the three were all lapping six seconds quicker than their qualifying pace, but it was too much for Olive Green to bear. He pulled into the pitlane, having slowed right down on the track after pulling a wing muscle. It wasn't long before Lightning Bolt slowed to avoid a similar ailment, which allowed Cool Breeze to sublimely glide to his final victory. Having literally broken the opposition, riding at a speed he later admitted he would never dare to repeat, few would argue that he didn't deserve it.

"Scootaloo?"

The three fillies were jolted out of the greyish world that the tale had conjured and back into the ostentatiously-coloured bedroom. They turned to face the voice.

"Yeah, Mom?" Scootaloo asked the older pegasus, whose mane and tail colours she shared.

"I just thought you'd like to know that lunch is ready, sweetie," replied Sugar Plum, giving them a warm smile.

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute," said Scootaloo, grinning. Her mother nodded and trotted back down the stairs.

"You guys staying over?"

"Actually, Scootaloo…" Sweetie Belle mumbled, staring at the clock on the bedside table. "I better get going. I told Rarity I'd be home by noon."

"Same here," Apple Bloom added as a pang of hunger crept up on her. Thinking of the apple fritters waiting on the farmhouse table for her did little to help with those. "Sorry, Scoot. Ah did like lookin' at that book an' all, but Ah did promise Applejack…"

"Ah, don't worry about it." Scootaloo shook her head before jumping off the bed. "More cake for me!" Before the she could make it beyond the door, though, Apple Bloom spoke up again.

"Say, Scootaloo…" she began, eyeing the book.

It wasn't long after the first scooter had been built and sold that the lucky colts and fillies who had been given them decided that the best thing they could do with their new toys was find out how fast they could make them go. Equally quick was the discovery that pegasi were able to do this to the greatest effect, and soon after there were races being held between them.

Apple Bloom paused from reading to take another bite of tangy pastry. Scootaloo had let her borrow the book surprisingly easily, after mentioning that she would try to become a Cutie Mark Crusader Racing Historian, and she had galloped back to Sweet Apple Acres with it clasped in her mouth. Applejack had given her a blank stare once she caught sight of the book, but Apple Bloom had trotted away before her sister could find her voice again. Perched on the apple-patterned sofa in the farmhouse's small living room, she buried her muzzle in the introduction.

The early Grands Prix were lax, informal affairs. There was little in the way of safety equipment, with canvas helmets being the full extent of most pegasus' precautions, and the only prize on offer was glory. There was also no distinction for different ages of the competitors; with the creation of larger, sturdier scooters, stallions and mares alike were soon joining in the fun.

With the elder pegasi much quicker on the straights, but the lighter foals being much nimbler and faster through the corners, the racing was intense. However, there was still no real structure to it all. The format, length and field size fluctuated wildly between the races, with up to forty below Cloudsdale but as few as sixteen in Manete Cavallo. Many days saw more than one race, and so the possibility of depleted fields was realised all too often. That changed, however, in 952.

This was the year that Silver Lining, who moonlighted as a Wonderbolts reserve between his business ventures, realised the potential of scooter racing. Not only was it a fine sport in and of itself, but it also trained wing muscles that could later be used in either aerobatics teams or in the airborne Pegasus Racing League. With the agreement of the competing teams, he created the Equestrian Scooter Racing Association, the governing body of the sport that persists to this day.

The first Equestrian S1 Grand Prix Championship took place in 953, with the inaugural event being held at Trottingham with Princess Celestia herself in attendance. Thirty qualifiers, the new limit imposed by the ESRA, took part in a gruelling, three-hour blast around the ex-Wonderbolt training ground on the outskirts of the city. The victor was a rather tubby local mail-pony, by the name of Cool Breeze.

For the next twenty years, the formula of the races went largely unchanged. Great names were made, and many titanic battles were fought on the great circuits of the era. However, during the 970s, it was becoming increasingly apparent that the all-ages style of the racing was not suitable for the sport as the level of competition continued to climb. The growing audience of the time bore witness to some frightening near-misses, as slower colts and fillies were lapped by the leaders, and whispers abounded of imminent rule changes. Then, on a tragic day in 978, one unlucky filly came within inches of losing her sight after a high-speed collision. She recovered, to an extent that nopony could have predicted, but the whisperings had become a roar.

With Princess Celestia also adding her voice to the masses', the change was swift. The ESRA imposed an age limit for S1 Grand Prix races, to begin effect in 979. From that year on, a pony had to be sixteen years old or younger before the final race of that season in order to compete in S1 that year. The opposite was true of the new P1 category, which had been designated for stallions and mares.

In the years since, there have been many other changes to the race procedures. Medical facilities have been upgraded, from one nurse-pony in a tent to a temporary hospital at each Championship round. Newer, stronger helmets have been introduced, along with protective pads on knees and ankles. The cloud-balls on the edge of the track have been extended to full barriers around the circuits, strong enough to absorb a pegasus out of control at speed, yet soft enough to shield them from injury. Great circuits have been lost, and new ones grown in their place.

But some things have stayed the same. During the races, it's just the pegasi, their scooters, and their natural ability, fighting it out to be the very best.

Apple Bloom continued to work her way through the book, her eyes glued to the page with a diligence that Twilight Sparkle would have been proud of. After the introduction, the book moved on to a section about the greatest circuits that the author had felt inclined to include. The basic but vivid descriptions filled her head with cities and towns dotted about Equestria. Some of them she had only heard of before in class!

The challenging sweeps and curves at Bridlington. The flat-out blast through the vineyards of Rheins. The ultimate test of the Maneco race, where pegasi would thread themselves through the harbour-side with walls and cloud-barriers mere inches away. Sprinkled lightly between the tales of the tracks were brief asides to those of great races that had taken place on them, like the story of Mossy Meadows' victory at the P1-Ring near Fillydelphia. Apple Bloom giggled as she imagined the beaming pegasus crossing the finish line, only to fall off his scooter as he raised his hooves triumphantly, before picking himself up again and completing his victory lap still grinning from ear-to-ear. She only avoided waking Granny Smith by filling her mouth with dessert.

It's a wonder Ah never heard about this Grand Prix stuff before.

Her wide smile soon slipped away as the thought washed over her. The giddy fluttering in her belly faded to nothing.

It had now been several months since she had become friends with her fellow Crusaders. From how excited Scootaloo had sounded about that poster earlier, and from that fact that she actually had a book on the subject, racing seemed to be a massive part of her friend's life.

And she had only heard of it now.

Maybe Applejack's right… she thought, letting out a quiet sigh. Maybe we should slow down a little 'bout gettin' our cutie marks… It's like Ah don't even know mah friends outside a'that…

She raised a hoof, ready to shut the book on a page titled 'Champions', but her ears perked as the silence around her was broken by a buzzing noise. A very familiar buzzing noise, one that only got louder the longer she listened. As she slid off the settee, it stopped, and was replaced by the unmistakable drumming of rapidly approaching hooves.