Today was simple. Just me, my Mustang, and the open road— driving all the way back home from Knysna in one go. I left at 07:30 and didn’t stop until I pulled into my driveway at 22:30.
Exhausted? That word doesn’t even touch it. But we made it. And I have to give credit where it’s due— my Mustang behaved like a true road warrior. Now I just need about 10 days of sleep to catch up.
Reflecting on Simola: Then vs. Now
The Simola Hillclimb this year wasn’t just an event—it was a mirror. Five years ago, I was that blonde girl— wearing a Ferrari cap, a Shelby shirt, a Jaguar pullover, and a Red Bull jacket all at once. I knew nothing. I knew I liked cars, but I didn’t understand them. I was just there—excited, clueless, and blissfully unaware.
Today, it’s different. Today I know who I support. I know what I like. And I know where I want to see myself one day. I’m no longer the girl wearing mismatched motorsport brands just because they looked cool. I’m the woman who understands the assignment.
And if I’m being honest? I’ve decided I want to marry an internationally professional race car driver one day. Maybe it will happen. Maybe it won’t. But a woman can dream, right?
So here’s to the Mustang, to surviving the road, and to this year’s Simola Hillclimb— where I didn’t just spectate. I arrived.
Till next time, Simola. You’ll always have my heart— and probably a few of my tire marks.
