One of us has raced, once.

As noted in an earlier entry, one of us has actually raced, once. Well, that was me, and here is the story, originally posted on the Davis Motorsports forum.

"Well, it's done. Cherry is popped. I'm no longer a racing virgin. And I am still sore. Thanks guys, it was fun.

Seriously, it was fun. More than fun. It's the sort of thing that changes the equation. I just hope I can hang on to my interest in track day/DE/instructoring.

The car was a Mazda 323, I don't know which model year, but it supposedly had 89 hp to get us around the track, presumably provided by the pyramid strapped to the top of the car. It had to be pyramid-powered. The battery was almost as big as the engine. And the car was a bit small for me. It was a bit difficult to get to all the pedals without shortening my legs or growing an extra knee, but I managed to get it to work. Heel-toe turned out to be heel-ankle half the time, but like I said, it worked.

We had four drivers, each driving 2 hour, maybe a little longer, stints. I was third up on Saturday and by then we had two penalties (a contact and an off). Four penalties in a day and you get parked. Lots of teams managed to get three penalties on Saturday. You could tell who they were because they had the "Cone of Shame" attached to the tops of their cars. Many of these so-shamed cars parked themselves voluntarily to prevent picking up a fourth penalty and being sent home. The penalty counter would reset on Sunday, but you still bore your cone, so others would know to stay way clear of you.  Anyway, when my turn came to drive I was told to not get any penalties or we could be doomed. Only half the day was over. Thanks. I had never driven this car and had never raced, and now I had this little extra incentive to take it out on track and hide it behind a hill in the back section for two hours.

Dave giving last minute instructions and
encouragement to our first stint's driver.

So I am out on track now, a track I know very well, and am up to speed in T2, with 3 cars, maybe more, possibly 50, on my tail. Maybe more, because my Defender, a device I had never worn in a car, did not let me move my head much,and the side view mirror was not adjusted for me, and did I mention I had never driven this car? Among the many things to do in lap 1 I was to work through my visibility issues. And as to how many cars were behind me, it didn't matter, I didn't have time to count them. After some time in the car though, this part of driving got better. A few laps later, the caution is out, the field slows, and I get to adjust the side view mirror. Much better. Now my blind spot is only big enough to hide two cars at 8 o'clock.

I'm a few laps into it now, feeling better, and Dave (car owner, team leader) comes on the radio and says, "Nice line over turn 5, but slow." Spirits rise, then fall, then acceptance. Give me time and I'll get 'er going faster. I had already passed a couple of cars so now anything was possible. 

It took me 30-45 minutes before I felt like I was on the attack, feeble as it was, and that attack was directed at the few cars that were slower than ours, or rather, me. But it was fun figuring out the best way to get around someone. Hang back on corner entry and maximize exit speed onto the straights, or just go wide when they took the inside, or visa versa, or maybe even attempt a drag race, with all the 89 hp the pyramid could pump out, or follow the faster cars as they pass a slower one. Too often though, I chose the wrong line, or just got stuck there when my opportunity to pass was crushed by a line of cars going past both of us. Worse even, was when the slow car I got stuck behind came up on an even slower car. Somehow it seemed to remind me of how some people always chose the wrong friends to hang out with.

It was also not as much fun figuring out how to stay out of the way of faster cars, especially at the end of long straights where you know they want to steal the inside. Let 'em have it, but just don't slow down for them. Or, move over early and claim that line for yourself, but sacrifice some speed on entry. Either way, I swear I needed bigger mirrors, and we had one of those big ass NASCAR style mirrors that were as wide as the windshield. My fat head in my fat helmet blocked half the view.

I'm doing well now. My lap times are acceptable, 10 seconds faster than when I started, but still 10s slower than my track day times. I start finding cars to race. Like, for 2, 3, 4 laps straight. Unfortunately, one of these was a minivan. Soccer mom-themed. Mildly humiliating. Maybe a little more than mildly. I remember coming over the hill at T5, which our spot in the paddock afforded a great view of, and thinking how the guys there were probably laughing at me for getting stuck behind a minivan. Later I learned that they were indeed laughing at me for getting stuck behind a minivan. And yet much later I learned that that minivan had been prepared by Edge Motorsports, and lot of people in the paddock, after the race, were complaining how they couldn't get past that damned minivan. I'll bet the minivan team is back home now laughing at all the frustrated people who couldn't get past their soccer-mom minivan.

Through out the day one thought kept popping into my mind, "I can believe I'm doing this to someone else's car."

At some point, about midway through my stint, I ask myself if I am racing yet. I realize I am not. Not really. First, I am still driving in a more polite track day manner. Second, I am driving as if in my 3000+ pound Prelude. So I decide that I need to take every opportunity I find, as soon as it presents itself, if it is safe, to make a pass now, not later, and also to try to create more opportunities, when possible. I also start paying attention to defending my line, and setting up for the next turn well in advance, by choosing the inside line, for example. This part, race craft, would be new terrain for me. Even newer than having all those cars on my tail. The other part, the driving my Prelude part, this little 323 was a great little car, and a momentum car. So I started trying to learn momentum driving, on the job. I quit touching the brakes in T8, barely touched them in T9, etc. For T1, fast and open at the end of the front straight, still had to brake. In addition, while I was already good with all the tire squealing, I decided to step it up a bit more. A little more slipping and sliding would be OK, as long as the car kept going in the right direction. New territory. Much fun.

I finished day one without incident. On day two I took the last stint, having been judged the most consistent driver, and with the silliness that comes with the last stint of an endurance race that would be needed. I still wonder if by "most consistent" Dave meant "not the fastest". Either way, it would be an honor to be able to take the checked flag for the team.

My second stint, I am now an experienced race car driver, with a whole two hours in the car. I'm up to speed and into the game sooner, but damn it, my lap times were consistently slower than Saturday's. We had an iPhone in the car displaying lap times. And it was tweeting my lap times for the team to witness and comment derisively on. But what the hell, I found cars I could pass, and others I had no chance of passing. At least I was keeping up with someone.

It's going well now. I'm getting this passing thing down. On the outside in an off-camber right-hander? Pass that sucker. Approaching T6, get up to his door first and the turn is yours. The car that I thought had pulled along side of me appears in my mirrors again, he backed off. The line is mine again! Closing on me entering T1. I'll take my line thank you. You can wait your turn, or take the long way around. That kind of "going well".

Not that I didn't make my share of mistakes. Side-by-side into T5 (top of a hill, sharp left, 25-30 mph, blind turn), I have the inside and I over cook it, a bit. Well, a bit more than a bit because I am now in his line/lane. Fortunately the other car had a longer distance to cover and by the time I caught it he was right behind me, not beside me. I wave and hopefully he sees that as acknowledging my error. Then in T11, a tighty-lefty that turns up a hill, I had gained on a bright orange '67 Plymouth Fury III coming out of T10 and was along side, then overcooked T11. I could have sworn I had slowed enough to manage keeping to the inside, but physics said no. Lucky again, I guess, or he saw it coming. I knew there was no way he'd be able to out brake and turn me there, but still, it wasn't as pretty as I had hoped. Another, T8, a fast lefty that snags a lot of people, I'll be there at the same time as the Mad Max-themed car, he leaves me room, I brake a bit here where normally I wouldn't, so I can tighten my radius, but it "may not" have been enough because I slide out to within a foot or so of that car. He might have moved over to give me even more room. It would have been a simple door-to-door bump, no one would have gotten messed up by it, but it's not good and with would have sent me to the penalty box.

At about mid way through my stint I managed to catch the 914 that Dave had had fun with in the previous stint. Nice car, and great driving. I wondered if I could do better than Dave with this one. What followed was 4-5 laps of not quite being able to pass it, getting along side on the inside, then the outside, and still not getting it done. My best chances of a pass came after besting his exit speed on T15, followed by the long front straight. Side-by-side most of the way, and he had the inside for T1 and took back the lead. Finally, heading into T14-15, he had the inside, me the outside, braking side-by-side, he turns in and has the lead, I turn in and have more speed, pull along side, we exit T15 side-by-side, I have more momentum, and by the end of the front straight I take the lead into T1. Finally! Well, not finally. A lap later he has the lead again. Eventually we come upon traffic and are separated. After a couple more laps I loose sight of him. Must have pitted, right?

I chased and chased and tried to get by this 914 for
nearly 20 minutes.

Soon after I start having a little trouble with the car. Or the car starts having a little trouble with me. Several times the rear end out tried to come around on my right during braking for T5. Also, I'd get a twitch from the rear when braking for T10, and after T1 I'd hear a noise coming from the right rear. Then I almost lost it coming over T5. I'm sure that while viewed from the paddock those things look a little messy but slow, but they are not slow. It happened so fast, and instincts drove the car for those few seconds, or rather, that 1/4 second in the driver's relativistic time-space continuum. I adjust to not let that happen again, making sure I am straight while braking there, maybe a little less speed for a few laps until I could figure it out.

Ten minutes left in the race, and all is well. Then, the T10 gremlin I had noticed earlier got me. Two cars on my tail and I spin. It was fast. No way I could catch it. Both feet in and I manage to spin in a straight and predictable line and fortunately kept the car to the inside of the turn, then drove off track before another car came by. No contact at all. About 5 cars pass and I am going again, then I overcook T11, or was it that right rear again? I'm on the radio, I'm coming in, possible flat tire. I could hear something rubbing in the right-rear. I was going to get black flagged anyway, for the spin, so I might as well go in now and face the judges and get it over with. That way it might be possible that I could be out on track when the checkered flag dropped.

The pit marshal directs me to the penalty box first. In the penalty box, facing the judges - "What happened?" "I spun in 10. I think I have a problem on my right-rear." "Go on to your pit and get it checked out." No penalty! Merciful judges.

In our pits, nothing is wrong with the car. Translation, the driver is insane. Pressures are OK. Tires look OK. Lug nuts are checked and I am sent back out. Were they lying to me? Was I crazy? Spins do not unnerve me, not that I have a long history of spins. Still, it takes me a couple of laps to get back to normal. I felt fine, but I could swear the car was loose as hell (In a FWD car!) in the high speed T1, for two laps anyway. I lean on it more in T2, then even more in the off-camber T3, and so on, and finally things seem OK to me. I manage a few more passes, then the checkered flag is out. This last statement is an understatement. It felt pretty good.

We finished 18th out of 100+ cars. The goal was to finish in the top 20, so we succeeded. My spin probably cost us a position or two. Or was it Dave's spin on Saturday?

Overall, it was more than fun, and I am sore. It's pretty damned physical, 2 hours straight, which seemed like 10-15 minutes once I was up to full sweat in my fancy new Italian suit, and I felt like I could keep doing it forever, even as my arms and legs and basically all of my moving parts were getting really tired.

Would I do it again? Do you have an open seat?