Human technology is amazing. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not amazed by all the incredible gadgets and machines on Earth. From the vehicles that transport people to their destinations to the communications devices we all use to stay in touch with one another. I subconsciously reach a hoof back to my saddlebags, just to verify my phone and laptop haven’t fallen out while I’ve been flying. Thankfully, they haven’t.
Yet, for all their technology, there are things humans can’t do. They can’t fly, naturally, for example. And while they’ve developed airplanes, helicopters, and whatnot, that’s nothing at all like flying on wings of your own. And despite having the technology to do so many incredible things, Mother Nature continues to thwart the human race at every turn. Humans can’t control the weather.
But pegasi can. It’s significantly harder to manipulate the weather here on Earth than it is back home on Equus, but that’s not to say that it can’t be done. And I’m paid a very nice salary to ensure that the weather stays perfect for all of NASCAR’s national series races. Right now, I’m in Daytona Beach, Florida, ready to keep the skies clear. My team and I have been here for the last month, keeping the track clear for preseason testing, practice, qualifying, and some preliminary races, but today’s the big day: The Daytona 500. This is NASCAR’s biggest event of the year and everything needs to be perfect.
This is my first Daytona 500. NASCAR only brought us on board this year, and this is the first race of the season for the Cup Series, NASCAR’s premier touring series. This is where the best of the best race week in and week out. It’s a bit like a Wonderbolts derby, but much longer and much, much louder. More than 100,000 screaming fans are in the audience, wearing the colors of their favorite drivers and cheering them on to victory.
More importantly, it’s also the first time I’ve actually had to do my job. It’s raining in the area right now. Tropical downpours surround the track, but we’re doing our best to keep the rain out and the track dry. So far we’re succeeding. I can see Flitter and Cloudchaser over the back straightaway, keeping the clouds at bay. Blossomforth and Sunshower are somewhere behind me, working in the tri-oval where the grandstands and finish line are located. They’ve got a handle on turns one and four, while the twins have turns two and three under control.
They’re the best weatherponies money can buy. I worked alongside them in Ponyville years ago, and when the opportunity came up to work for NASCAR, I immediately knew who I was recruiting. When it comes to weather, there are few places in Equestria subject to uncontrolled storms. The coasts see their fair share of turbulent weather coming in from the oceans, but Ponyville’s adjacent to the Everfree Forest, home of the worst weather events ever recorded. If you want ponies who can work with random storms of unknown intensity, you want Ponyville veterans, period.
Earth’s lack of magic makes our job more difficult. There’s magic everywhere on Equus, a product of thousands of years of spellcasting. It’s soaked into everything from the plants and animals to the very ground and sky itself. On this world, however, we’re limited to our natural pegasus magic.
Today’s going to be a learning experience. Ponyville’s weather team is comprised of half a dozen individuals, but one of those ponies is Rainbow ‘Can Clear The Sky In Ten Seconds Flat’ Dash, and NASCAR won’t put enough zeroes on a check to add her to their staff. That said, they could probably get her out here to work the weather if they gave her a car to race. I could see Rainbow enjoying being a racecar driver. Alas, Rainbow’s reputation means nothing here. The speedway’s a 2.5-mile tri-oval, and the entirety of the track is roughly the size of Ponyville. Compounding the problem is the track’s proximity to Daytona Beach International Airport, right across the street from the backstretch. That limits how much space we have to work in, preventing us from busting up the clouds until they’re almost on top of us.
My ears flatten as forty obnoxiously loud racecars fire their engines. We’re all wearing earplugs, but they only do so much to block out the noise. Can five ponies keep the sky clear until the race is over? In all honesty, probably not. That’s why I have an ace in the hole NASCAR doesn’t know about.
Back in Equestria, it’s common for pegasi to watch sporting events from clouds high over the arena. They pay for the privilege, of course, but I’ve spread the word on the internet and through Equestrian-targeted media that cloud seating for pegasi is free at all NASCAR races this season in exchange for their service in helping to keep the weather clear. Despite that, only a few hundred pegasi showed up for the race. There are two reasons for this: there aren’t many ponies on Earth yet, and auto racing really hasn’t caught on with a species that’s never known cars until moving to Earth. Horse racing, on the other hoof, is incredibly popular among Equestrians.
Still, a few hundred pegasi are more than sufficient to keep a storm at bay. My hope is that we don’t need to press them into service. They’re here to see a race, and I want them to see it. I want to see it too, and the only way that’s going to happen is if we break up this storm now before the race starts. I pull my phone out and activate the weather app. “Current weather for Daytona Beach, Florida.”
“Current weather for Daytona Beach, Florida,” Alexa repeats back to me. Then screens pop up showing a storm system moving slowly towards the track. It’s moving in from behind Turn 1. Of course the airport’s no-fly zone is in the way. It’s frustrating – we’re highly trained weather ponies. We could do this job in our sleep if we didn’t have so many restrictions.
I have no choice – I’m going to have to ask the volunteers to help us out. The cars are just about to start the pace laps, and I figure that gives me roughly five or six minutes to get the skies cleared. I activated my headset. “This is Caldor. We’ve got a storm coming in. I can get it cleared out, but can you give me two extra pace laps?”
“Roger that.”
I dropped to the clouds in front of the pegasus spectators and pointed my wing in the direction of the incoming storm. “Here’s the deal. We’ve got a storm rolling in from the southwest. It’s nothing major, but there’s a no-fly zone right across the street from the track. So we’ve got limited space, and about ten minutes to race time. If we all get up there and work together, we can divert it to the east, away from the track. My team and I will show you where the property line is – don’t go past that point under any circumstances. Nopony’s getting sucked into a jet engine on my watch.”
As one, the multicolored mass of ponies in front of me took off in the indicated direction. Sunshower, Blossomforth, and the twins were waiting for us on the property line. The rest of the gathered pegasi are flocking behind them, and we’re all beating our wings in the direction we want the storm to move in. With such cramped working space, some have decided to fly higher, while others are diving lower. The important part is it’s working. We’ve created a gust that’s blowing the storm away from us
I glance down at the track. The safety car still has its lights on, and that means there’s at least one more pace lap yet to go. Good. Our efforts here have just bought them at least twenty minutes of green flag racing. The storm’s turning, and if we keep this up for five more minutes, we can shift the entire system to the east.
I chose that moment to glance at the jumbotron in the infield. No wonder the crowd’s gone silent – we’re all on TV. This is likely much of the audience’s first time seeing weather magic in action.
“What’s going on up there?” I recognize that voice. The boss. Not my boss, not his boss, but the boss: Jim France, CEO and Chairman of NASCAR.
“Storm coming in from the southwest. We’re redirecting it east.”
“I hired five pegasuses. I see about five hundred up there.”
“The track’s too close to the airport. We needed more wingpower so I got creative.”
“How much is this going to cost?”
“Nothing. It’s already taken care of.”
“How, exactly?”
“Free tickets to the race.”
“The race has been sold out for weeks.”
“Pegasi don’t need grandstand seats. You’ll see what I mean as soon as we finish diverting the storm in about five minutes. Keep watching the skies.”
It’s amazing how much a cohesive team can accomplish in a short time. Other than my team of four, I’ve never seen any of these ponies before, and unless they come back to next year’s race, I’ll probably never see them again. And yet, when there’s a job that needs to be done, we all come together to get it done. Nopony needs to be told what to do aside from ‘don’t let the track get wet’. We’re pegasi, and controlling the weather is in our blood.
With the storm successfully diverted, the crowd of ponies returns to their seats in the clouds. My team hovers in front of me, awaiting instructions. Before I can say anything it gets much louder. I’m going to need to find better earplugs. That sound means the race has started and we all briefly turn our attention to the track to watch the start.
There’s no point talking, nopony’s going to hear me over the rumble of the engines and the roar of the crowd. Instead I pointed to each of my team in turn, and then pointed to where I wanted them stationed for the next five hundred miles of racing. I’ve provided each with a great perch to watch the race while they monitor the weather. It’s hard not to become a fan when you’re surrounded by it, and we’ve each got our own favorite drivers to cheer on. Flitter likes Chase Elliott, because he’s a nice guy. Cloudchaser likes Jimmie Johnson because his car’s colorful. Sunshower pulls for Matt DiBenedetto because she loves a good underdog. Blossomforth likes Martin Truex Jr. because he apparently gives really good ear scratches. Meanwhile, I’ll be happy if one of the Mustangs wins. It amuses me to see the pony badge on the grill. I’ve got to convince one of the Ford teams to paint their galloping pony to look like me.
Regardless of who wins, the important part we all agree on is we want to see a good, clean race. And if a strong tailwind just happens to help push one of our chosen drivers down the backstretch, well, no one will ever be the wiser.
Crisis averted, I crack my neck and flop down on a cloud near the center of the infield. It gives me a good view in all directions – perfect for both keeping an eye on the sky, and for watching the action on the track. I can’t guarantee a good race, nor can I guarantee a safe race, but at least I can guarantee a dry race.
When the checkered flag falls at Daytona, we’re off to Las Vegas. It’s too far to fly, so we’re taking my work truck. Thanks to the efforts of my crew, NASCAR doesn’t need the jet dryer trucks anymore, so this one’s been repurposed as my company car, sans the drying equipment. The goal is to leave first thing tomorrow morning and enjoy a few days sightseeing across the country we now call home.
“Map of Las Vegas Motor Speedway.”
Alexa complied, and much to my dismay I discovered the track was located adjacent to an Air Force base. I’m sensing a theme here, and I don’t like it one bit. I sighed. I thought they were crazy when they offered me so much money to coordinate the weather, but it looks like I’m going to earn every single penny. It’s a living.
Author's Note
https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/890558/days-without-thunder
