Ok maybe it wasn't the next left, but they hadn't even seen a road to the left and it was now past midnight.

Lightning had moved up to the cab with Mack in an attempt to see the road and point it out to him, but that had proven fruitless as well and he was disheartened when they were forced to find a pull off on the side of the road for the rest of the night. Lightning knew they were all trying their best, well Mack was, he knew. With a sigh, he said goodnight and climbed out of the cab to return to the living quarters.

It was dark, and he struggled to make sure he didn't trip over anything on his way back to his bunk. He passed where Storm had set up his own personal space on the fold out couch but didn't speak as he passed him. He was staring at his phone anyway.

Two days down...

Mornings were surreal to Lightning. He'd been more of the up by noon type until crashing in to Radiator Springs. Even then the only reason he was up before eight was to get that road done so he could get out of there.

The first sunrise he ever really took note of had been out at the Butte with Sally. Early mornings had become habit after that.

Storm was far more disciplined than he had ever been at that age, he noticed that the kid had already left for a morning run. Not that he was even that much older than the new racing sensation when he really thought about it, fifteen, sixteen years maybe? Not nearly long enough to be given the 'elderly' label he'd been slapped with lately. He wasn't even thirty-three, how was that grounds for retirement? He realized he was getting sidetracked and turned his attention back to tying up his running shoes. He'd picked up that hobby again after his leg had healed, it was something he'd excelled at in high school, earning him his now famous nickname and was always something that helped him untangle his thoughts.

He let Mack know he was leaving and that he'd probably be back within an hour before starting out down the road. He paid no attention to his pace or the hills, only on whatever song was coming through the headphones. He paid attention to the feeling of his feet hitting the pavement, and his lungs as they worked in tandem with his heart.

What is racing to me?

Racing was adrenaline, speed, outmaneuvering, outwitting. Racing was getting out of the pits in time to be on the lead lap. Racing was checkered flags, burnt rubber and gasoline. Racing was an engine cranked to the max and still asking more from it.

Racing was harsh words and trash talk, arguments and banter.

Racing was sarcastic comments through the radio, What do you think you're doing? You drop a lap and you'll be making it up with a hundred at the Butte. If you could handle it on dirt why can't you now?

Lightning skipped to a heavier song and sprinted to the top of a fairly steep and long hill, only stopping when he crested the ridge. He slowed to a stop and braced his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

Why can't I do it now?

He straightened up slowly, hands braced on his sides as the breeze picked up. It wasn't even officially summer but it was hot already. Lightning opened his eyes finally, still catching his breath as he took in the cloudless morning sky and then down the other side of the hill and down the road. He paused and blinked before huffing faintly and starting his run again.

There was the road to Thomasville Speedway.

He shouldn't have been too surprised, running down the narrow lane lined with red maples. Tracks back then wouldn't have had the acres of parking lots surrounding them the way they do now. He slowed to a stop once more as he reached the outside rail. Leaning forward, he braced his hands against it, pausing briefly when the board began to give in to his weight and repositioned himself against a post.

He was glad to be alone, his breathing evened out slowly as he studied the immediate area around him. It was more than he expected and disappointing all at once. To see the home track of his mentor abandoned and in disarray left him with a strange feeling of nostalgia for something he'd never lived. He wondered how Doc would have felt, seeing it this way. It was probably best that he never had.

Lightning took a deep breath and cleared his throat roughly, telling himself it was because he'd forgotten to bring a water.

It had nothing to do with being emotional over a track. Of course not.

He closed his eyes and grit his teeth when he heard footsteps in the gravel coming down the lane. He didn't have to turn around to know that it was Storm.

He came to a stop and stood a few paces behind and to the right of McQueen and after a good twenty minutes of silence, Lightning could feel his gaze boring in to the back of his head. Whether Jackson was waiting for him to say something or was just trying to make his impatience known, Lightning wasn't sure.

Lightning only continued to survey the track, this was his week anyway. Not Jackson's.

Finally he glanced over to see Storm had moved up to the rail and was staring out over the time worn grandstand across from them. He was unable to tell what he was thinking on a good day and this was no different.

He raised a brow, though, at how gently the kid brushed the collected water of the morning dew off the post before resting his hand there gingerly. With a sigh Lightning went back to his own thoughts.

How much had this track seen? How much time had Doc spent there? This was his home and probably knew him better than Lightning ever would. This was where he'd made it, gotten his start and spent countless hours perfecting a technique that had left lasting impressions on the sport decades later. How many races had those dented up spotlights shown on? How many layers of dirt had collected on those bleachers? How had this track felt knowing the one team, who probably loved it more than anything else, would never set foot or tire on its red dirt again?

That was a silly thought, tracks weren't sentient.

But if it could talk. Oh, he'd spend hours listening.

"Most wins in a single season, right?"

Lightning nearly jumped, feeling like he'd been electrocuted by the railing he leaned against. He blinked, needing a moment to make sure he had heard that correctly and that Storm was actually the one who had asked. He huffed as he regained his composure and looked toward the other slowly.

"Yeah." He nodded faintly in surprise.