battle each other in character-based combat, levelling up their heroes in order to become more successful and climbing the leaderboard.
Download the game up until December 13 and you'll receive the Founders Circle bonus, granting an exclusive Dark Revenant for your squad.
To a pig, the law of diminishing returns is a sobering inevitability. As an edible animal, it eventually crests that point when the rising cost of feeding it during growth outpaces its increasing value as food. A pig hits that point after less than a year. During those few months, the most it can hope for is to forage enough acorns to impart a lively nuttiness to a BLT (or, from the pig’s perspective, a me-LT). However, if it happens to be a piglet born in Oregon, it might just hitch a ride at the Tillamook County Fair’s Pig-N-Ford race, in which competitors race stripped-down Model Ts around a dirt oval while clutching pork that is still in ambulatory form.
The formula has been the same since the first Pig-N-Ford race in 1925. Yes, this idea has been around for 88 years. The cars are parked at the starting line, engines off. The drivers line up along the track’s outer fence, while the pigs are held in the infield in a row of crates. When the starter fires his pistol, the drivers sprint across the track, snatch the squealing pigs from their bins, crank-start their Model Ts (holding the squirming sausage in one arm), and hop aboard before the car stalls. At the end of each lap, racers slide to a stop, kill their engines, run to the bins to exchange their pigs for fresh ones, and start all over. A race lasts three laps.
Little more than frame rails with a drivetrain and a buckboard seat, a Pig-N-Ford T hits speeds upward of 40 mph. Its narrow tires slip and catch in the rutted track, throwing clods of dirt in the driver’s face as steam blows back at him from the radiator cap. As with any open-wheel race car, there’s a risk of wheel entanglement. Drivers wear goggles, but no helmets or seatbelts. Broken wrists and arms are a common result of engine backfires, and during the mayhem of the pig exchange—with drivers skidding to a stop while others are racing back to their cars with fresh pigs—competitors occasionally clip each other, breaking ankles and even legs. At one race in the 1980s, a car endo’d along the front straight. The driver was thrown clear, but so was the starter crank. The former came to rest safely in the dirt, but the latter made its way into the crowd, where it struck a woman in the face. She was the wife of another driver, and everybody shrugged it off.
Drivers are an elite group, a motorcycle gang that carries pigs. The race is limited to 10 cars, and all the racers are members of the Pig-N-Ford Association. The president (we’re not making this up) is Punk Dunsworth, 74, a club member for 55 years. Inductees must be sponsored by an existing member and voted in by the majority. Membership—as well as ownership of the cars—often passes down through generations.
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The Salo family is Pig-N-Ford’s Yankees. Third-gen driver Ben has two championships under his belt at just 24, bringing the dynasty total to seven. The Salos tow their car with a beautifully restored circa-1970 Ford F-250 in a two-tone blue livery that matches their T’s. Another third-gen driver, Nick Hurliman, hopes to win his family’s first championship before his son, now four, takes over. His car has been in the family since 1970. His Uncle Rick’s T has been passed down for more than 60 years.
There are two heat races Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, with the winners competing in the championship race Saturday evening. There’s nothing on the line except pride, but the top three finishers in the championship undergo a NASCAR-style tech inspection complete with engine teardown to ensure that the internals are stock. Still, allegations of cheating are rampant. Nobody would tell us how you’d cut corners in a Model T race, but cheater pigs seem unlikely. They’re small now, but Dunsworth says that in the old days, men wrestled 90-pounders to the car while the pigs’ rear hooves dragged in the dirt.
What do the pigs think of all of this? Dunsworth says none has ever been seriously injured, but the event is a frequent target of protests. From the pig’s perspective, though, riding shotgun in a Model T at a county fair is as good as it’s going to get.
WASHINGTON, Dec. 5 (UPI) -- This week's schedule and results for basketball teams ranked in the USA Today coaches' Top 25:
purchase on its website for £429.
Those who want one ought to get in quick – the console is thought to have sold out across most multiple online retailers until next year, with the few still left with stock charging over the odds for an expensive bundle.