Messages

I've never thought about zct300 until 2023 or 2024 It looked so far... and now it's the present. Who will win? Who will come? How many we'll be on the track? I hope to see many historical pipsqueaks, not only champions. Everybody racing this track!

Oh sorry, Alan, I read your E-Mail only last weekend and I was not at home then. So sorry, I would have installed Stunts and raced it somehow, but now I missed it. Anyways - congrats to Zakstunts for reaching +300 tracks! 

Hello JTK,

2 solutions:

1. send for ZCT301.
2. you and KHR send for ZCT301.

Good luck!

A stunts winrar allowing to compress custom cars on average about 29% of their initial size. Thank you @viniciusferrao

Spain played the finest football I ever witnessed on a world cup tournament. Tikitaka machine the kind invented by my favorite football club, Cruyff's Barcelona. Impossible to play against. Wonderful!

Statistics! Mbappé 22 goals, world record. And he could even earn more goals in 2030.

Garra Guarana (football's nihilism) was made irrelevant by France's versatile football. Next round my two countries of heart will play again together. France 4 - Morocco 0.

[walk]

All other teams: "We gonna retire Messi!" to "We gonna retire, Messi!" real quick.

But Norway will make him walk out.

Hello my friends,

Tour de France starts today, prepare to join our Fantasy Cycling League on Velogames.com!

Here's how it works:

Visit the Website: Go to www.velogames.com.

Sign up by creating a new account.

Join the League: Once logged in, navigate to the "Leagues" section and click on "Join a League." Enter the following details:

League Name: STUNTS
League Code: 46461086

Build Your Team: Select your team of cyclists based on their performance, form, and other factors. You'll have a budget of 100 points to manage, so choose wisely!

Compete and Have Fun: As the races unfold, your team will earn points based on the real-life performances of your selected cyclists. The goal is to accumulate as many points as possible and climb up the league standings.

Good luck to everyone, and may the best team win! If you have any questions or need assistance, feel free to reach out.

Best regards, Alain il Professore.

The scenario here needs a team of cryptologists.

* Are the trees in the middle of the track a reference to the Custom Car Championship?

Ancient Romans wrote 300 = CCC. But this is not Sparta.

A plausible 2026 World Cup storyline sees France winning Group I and defeating Japan, Portugal and England, while Norway finishes second behind France before upsetting Brazil, Germany and Spain, setting up a dream France vs Norway final: Mbappé against Haaland. 2-1 France for sure.

Hello my friends,

Giro is over, now let's warm up for the Tour de France on the Tour Auvergne-Rhônes-Alpes 2026 and prepare to join our Fantasy Cycling League on Velogames.com!

Here's how it works:

Visit the Website: Go to www.velogames.com.

Sign up by creating a new account.

Join the League: Once logged in, navigate to the "Leagues" section and click on "Join a League." Enter the following details:

League Name: STUNTS
League Code: 46461086

Build Your Team: Select your team of cyclists based on their performance, form, and other factors. You'll have a budget of 100 points to manage, so choose wisely!

Compete and Have Fun: As the races unfold, your team will earn points based on the real-life performances of your selected cyclists. The goal is to accumulate as many points as possible and climb up the league standings.

Good luck to everyone, and may the best team win! If you have any questions or need assistance, feel free to reach out.

Best regards, Alain il Professore.

Hello my friends,

Victor is right, let's rather set up the CCC event after Z300.

Yours, Alain il Professore.

[Epilogue]

Epilogue
where the last watcher is revealed, and the road finally admits what it had always known

Everybody knows that, when winter comes, the boldest drivers of ZakStunts do not really rest. They pretend to. They speak of fireplaces, woollen socks, quiet evenings, and a temporary retirement from dangerous curves, but as soon as a frozen road appears somewhere in Stunts Valhalla, they hear the old call again.

This particular race had taken place in one of those regions of Valhalla that resemble Switzerland so much that even the mountains seem to fill forms in triplicate before allowing avalanches to occur. Some said it was German-speaking Switzerland, because of the strictness of the guard-rails. Others claimed it was Italian Switzerland, because of the sun on the lake, the elegant villas, and the strange habit of solving impossible problems with a smile and a gesture of the hand. The wise, as usual, answered nothing and ordered another winter grog.

Not mulled wine. Winter grog.

More lead battery acid and less ethanol, because ethanol, as every responsible pilot knows, is bad for the liver.

From the large windows of the hotel, Aburaf70 had watched the whole affair.

The hotel, as everybody knows, was the preferred winter resort of the pilots of ZakStunts whenever the roads of Stunts Valhalla became white, treacherous and irresistible. It stood above the Zwüschetspitzli with the solemn confidence of a place that had already seen too many damaged suspensions, too many impossible shortcuts, and too many drivers swearing that, this time, they had finally understood the track.

ABU sat in the lounge, in one of the armchairs nearest to the window. Before him, on a small table, stood a winter grog, a plate of biscuits, and a pair of binoculars. He did not always need the binoculars. From the hotel, the view over the lake, the island and the strange works of concrete was excellent. More importantly, after so many years of racing, he knew that the most revealing part of a run was not always the car itself, but the hesitation just before the driver chose a line.

A waiter approached, looking respectfully worried.

– Another winter grog, signore Aburaf70?
– Not yet. This one is still smoking.
– As you wish. Shall I bring more biscuits?
– Biscuits are safer than bridges. Bring two.

Throughout the race, he had watched with great benevolence.

He had seen the brave pilots of ZakStunts try, fail, try again, crash, recover, disappear behind bridges and reappear where no sensible driver should ever have been. He had seen some follow the visible road with touching sincerity. He had seen others begin to suspect that the visible road was only a polite suggestion.

At times, he smiled.

Not because the mistakes were ridiculous. They were not. They were necessary. In Stunts Valhalla, every good line first appears as an insult to reason. Only later, after enough wrecked cars and enough silent replays, does it become obvious.

On the terrace, Freifrau Elisabeth Marie Esther Salis-Bothmar had joined him for a moment, leaning on her cane with the dignity of someone whose family had owned the cliff long before the road engineers had begun to make expensive mistakes below it.

– They are very determined, are they not? she asked.
– Determined, yes, replied Aburaf70. Informed, not always.
– My friend says she gave them the route quite clearly.
– Ah. Then the problem is not the signal.
– Men?
– Men, cars, bridges. It is often difficult to know which one refused to understand first.

The younger woman was still nearby, her binoculars in hand, her expression divided between irritation and reluctant admiration. She had spent the afternoon watching the cars run around the lake, and the more they ignored her indications, the more the setting sun had seemed to turn the mountains scarlet in sympathy with her nail polish.

– I drew it for them, she said. The ramp, the fork, the Seich, the bridge. Everything.
– Maybe they thought it was decoration, said Lisette.
– Decoration? It was the best route!
ABU nodded slowly.
– A good route is like a good theorem. Obvious only after someone else has suffered for it.

Below, near the cold waters of the Zwüschetspitzli, a small shape could be seen paddling with slow, stubborn movements. The unfortunate pilot had survived the crash, recovered his inflatable raft, and was now crossing the lake with the dignity of a man who had discovered that some shortcuts continued even after the car had stopped.

Aburaf70 raised his binoculars one last time.

– At least he planned for water, he murmured.
– He did not plan for the obstacle, said the younger woman.
– Nobody plans for the obstacle. They merely become acquainted with it.

In the distance, a tow truck from Tobler Autowerkstatt was already moving along the lakeside road with admirable calm. Willi sat beside the driver, holding a clipboard and looking at the landscape with the expression of an apprentice who had long ago stopped asking why a racing car had to be recovered from places where no road officially existed.

The walkie-talkie crackled.

– Tobler Autowerkstatt, recovery team on site.
– Grüezi, Willi, said Aburaf70, taking the device from the table. Do you have the vehicle?
– Not yet, mein Herr. We have located smoke, debris, and one paddle mark. We believe the car is nearby.
– Excellent progress.
– The keys are inside, as usual.
– Of course. A gentleman always leaves the keys.

Lisette smiled.

– Your young friend is very efficient.
– Tobler's people are wizards, said Aburaf70. One day they will repair a car before it crashes.
– In this valley, replied the younger woman, that would save time.

The night deepened. Lights appeared behind the windows around the lake. On the roads, engines still moved like restless thoughts. Some pilots were still trying the obvious path. Some were testing the ridiculous one. A few, perhaps, had begun to understand that the ridiculous path and the correct path were sometimes the same thing, separated only by speed, angle and courage.

Wise ABU watched them all, as patient as a millenar templar knight.

He watched the cautious drivers, who lost time but preserved dignity. He watched the reckless ones, who lost dignity but sometimes found time. He watched the silent ones, who posted nothing and learned everything. He watched the noisy ones, who revealed too much and wondered why the valley had eyes.

Then he lifted his winter grog toward the lake.

– To the brave, he said softly.
– To those who listen to signals, added the younger woman.
– To those who send them, said Lisette.
– To those who repair the consequences, answered Willi over the radio.
– And to those who know, concluded Aburaf, when not to show their best replay.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Below, the tow truck stopped near the smoking wreck. Farther away, the raft reached the shore. Somewhere on the road, another engine started again, hesitated, and then turned toward the impossible.

The younger woman leaned closer to the window.

– That one, she whispered. Look.
Aburaf did not need the binoculars.

This car was not following the road.

It was following the route.

He smiled, very gently.

– Finally, he said, someone remembered that at Zakstunts, there's no WRONG WAY.

And over the Zwüschetspitzli, above the lake, the island, the Seich and the bridges that had lied all day with perfect Swiss politeness, the winter night closed like a perfect evaluation table after a well-driven replay.

Hello my friends,

Thanks for the handle invitation. I must decline this time.

I'm looking forward for the 3D rendering, though.

Yours, Alain il Professore.

Hello my friends,

Hints published. GNU licence, free as in freedom. Have a nice ride by the SHNIIITZEL lake which is as transparent as it can be read and seen at this moment of the year.

Yours, Alain il Professore.