There are only a few things in life, outside of the basics, worth doing twice. If you’ve never been part of a chariot team, then try it once. I guarantee you’ll do it again.
Get friends together. It won’t be hard, there’s probably a team or club near you, what with how big it’s gotten these days. Anypony good with their hooves can build a chariot with what’s handy, and if you can’t then they’re for sale on the cheap. Pick your rider, your left and your rights. Most everypony starts off in two-teams before getting up to four-teams. Plot out a course, and let it fly.
I’ve tried every position, from lead to wings to rider, and it’s all good. The thrill of working as a team to hug those corners like a whip around a post, hooves scraping the ground as you scrabble for purchase because every cut corner is less ground to cover and more time saved, is some of the most gratifying work you’ll do. And being the rider...well. It’s a big responsibility, and not for the faint-hearted, but the feel of wind whipping through your mane and reins in your hooves can’t be beat this side of paradise.
And I might be saying this because I’m competitive, but being part of a team that’s the best around, hooves down, is kickass. It’s validation on a level like you’ve never dreamed. After so many nights of taking lap after lap, practicing bracing and straightaways in somepony’s backyard on weekends, to see it all pay off is the kind of rewarding that is simultaneously gratifying and leaves you wanting more.
And I know I’m making it sounds like it’s all about me, but that’s because I know you’re going to be interviewing the rest of the team after this. Our team is more than just a team, we’ve known each other for years even before we started racing together. Applebloom’s one of the best wing ponies in the game, and Sweetie Belle’s probably the top lead in Equestria, if not the world.
We’ve put in a ton of work. I’m not kidding when I said we were at it nights and weekends. But it’s not all work, you know? There’s been parties, and exhibition races, and parades and pageants, which Sweetie loves. I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it. But there have also been things away from the limelight. You never hear about how much fun you have on the road, away from cities, just lugging your gear from Canterlot to Cloudsdale, or the friendships you make with other teams. I know we talk dirty about the Blues, but Rumble runs a tight crew, and he went to school with AB and Sweetie and I, so it’s always good to see them.
You’ll probably screw up a lot at first. Building a team takes trust and practice, but mostly practice. You’ll misstep. Scrapes and cuts and bruises become just another part of your day. You’ll splinter an axle or grind the floorboards more than once, but the more you race, the better you’ll get. And the more you’ll love it. It’s fun enough alone, but when you start racing against other teams, that’s when it really kicks into gear.
Sure, standard tracks are an oval. That’s good for spectators. But I can tell you that my best races were easily the ones through narrow streets and winding paths in the woods, and I’ve raced Cloudsdale, Manehatten, and Canterlot. But the first moments, up to the starting line against the other team or teams, that’s the more nervous you’ll ever be. And the last moments, tearing across that finish line with seconds to spare, are the best of the best.
And don’t get me wrong, you’ll have a blast running local circuits, but for me, it wasn’t good enough. Once you start to consider yourself a real charioteer, then it’s only a matter of time, you know? First it’s locals, then it’s regionals. Then, if you can make the hop from a two-team to a four-team, you hit provincials, and that’s when you’re rubbing haunches with names you start to know, and you realize that you’ve made it, but now you have to race against them.
It’s absolutely nerve-wracking when you pull into a stadium in Manehatten or Las Pegasus, and you see you’re up against the Golds or the Greens. Before I was a charioteer, I was a Wonderbolts fangirl, and getting to rub shoulders with the likes of Fleetfoot and Spitfire is something that keeps you humble. Not to mention that you meet all those names that you’ve only ever heard about, and have this picture of, and then they’re nothing like you thought they’d be at all. I won’t name names, but one of the members of the Violets is super into birdhouses. Like, way into birdhouses.
This is probably where I lose a lot of you who were interested in hearing about what it’s like to race as a normal pony. But I stand by what I said when I started. Try charioteering, do it as a favor for yourself. And of those of you who just showed up to hear me talk, well, stick around, I guess.
National and Laurel races are surreal. The smallest Laurel I ever attended had twenty thousand spectators, and that was sponsored in Gryphonia. It’s like a dream at that point, you kind of have to disassociate yourself from it all so you can focus on the race that’s coming up. But the roar of that crowd, the sheer size of those stadiums, the spectacle of it all comes together and you feel like you could be swallowed up by it all before you even set hoof on the track.
But we’ll get to that. This is me telling you about how I got here, right? And the rest of the team after? Alright then, I guess we’ll start.
My name is Scootaloo, rider for the Scarlets. I’ve participated in one hundred and thirty two races, of which seventy one were legal and sanctioned by the Grand Circus. I’ve been crowned champion eight times, the last three being in a row.
But before that, I was a kid in high school, looking for an extracurricular so I wasn’t kicked out.
