#4 Lime Rock Club Race - May 2000 - Racing into Hypothermia

  Racing into Hypothermia

The theme for the race, as designated by the event organizers, is "CVR- Racing Into Spring". Located in the Northwest corner of Connecticut, in the middle of the Berkshire mountains, Lime Rock Park is subject to the randomness of New England spring weather. The typical local saying is: "Don't like the weather? Just wait a minute." Last year, I was told, the weather was sunny and over 90 degrees for the CVR race. That was not the case this year. Friday morning we woke up to a gray morning, with light but persistent rain. The drivers meeting for 8:00 had been cancelled the previous afternoon, so we didn't have to be to the track until almost 9 am. The day's schedule called for 2 practice sessions in the morning, lunch, another practice session, and then a session that had three practice race starts, with the last start continuing into a 3 to 5 lap fun race.

I wasn't sure just how all this would actually work. My copy of the schedule read: Practice One 9:00 to 10:50 am. Can you go out whenever you want? Or is it by group? How do I know a session is starting and/or ending? Lots of questions.

Maggie and I pulled into the paddock around 9. There we found Tom and Dan working feverishly on Tom's 911. Fran and Tom were able to get to the Automotive Associates shop before 5 and purchase a new master cylinder. However, they got caught in the nasty rainstorm on the way back, and didn't make it back to the Lime Rock area until almost 8. At this point they decided to just go back to the hotel and relax. Lime Rock's gates opened an hour earlier this morning, and 6am found Tom and Dan waiting at the front gate. Since it was raining pretty hard at that point, they had pulled the car in under my canopy to get out of the weather and had been hard at work since that time. I gave what limited mechanical assistance I could. My chief role being to hold the flashlight steady while the others worked.

Luckily for me, my street tires were still on my car from the yesterday Driver's Ed sessions, and I didn't have to jack my car up in the sodden paddock and switch to my race tires. 9 o'clock came and the announcer called for the Group 5 cars to the grid. These were the H and I class cars, mostly 944's and 914's. I didn't really pay a lot of attention, as it was still raining pretty steady, and my attention was on helping Tom and Dan. Around 9:15 the Group 4 cars were called to grid, while the Group 5 were still out on the track. Group 4 were the F and G class cars. G class cars were mostly late 70's 911's, while the F class were a mix of 944 turbos and mid 80's 911's. These two classes are very competitive on the east coast and usually have a good turnout of cars. Dan is in F class, but he was doing most of the work on Tom's car and Tom, well, his car was still in pieces.

Finally about 9:25 Group 3, my group, was called to grid. Rain still pouring. I roll down both my windows and prepare to get wet. Into the car, belts on, helmet on, start the car and let it idle a minute. Out onto the paddock road, through the puddles and down past the Michelin tower. This is new: normally I turn sharp right just after the tower and get onto the false grid to line up. However this time I go all the way down past the track side pit entrance, almost into the B paddock, before turning right. Get in line just like a normal drivers ed and wait. I'm about in the middle of the group. Rain still coming down. I tighten my harness, turn on the defroster and look around. I'd thought I'd be nervous, but I'm pretty relaxed. Here I am, about ready to go out onto a track that I don't have wired, in conditions that magnify any mistake, where I expect to be dive-bombed in corners by people who know what they're doing, and also by those like me who don't know what they're doing, and I'm pretty calm. Alert yes, interested yes, but nervous no. Go figure.

Whistles blow, and pit workers give us the 5 minute signal. Me, I'm wondering if I can reach the radio while tied in. Maybe I can get a weather report. Group 4 comes off the track. 2 minutes, 1 and then we're out onto the track. First lap is under full course yellow, no passing allowed. Even though some drivers like to come out hot on the first lap, I've always used the first lap as a reconnaissance; let my tires and brakes come up to temp, let my brain warm up. I take it easy on the first lap even on a perfect dry day. Today, this was my first time at the Lime Rock track under rain conditions and I didn't know the wet line. All I was sure, it wasn't the dry line and I needed to learn fast.

Turns out there were puddles at most of the apexes, a trough of water most of the way down the middle of the main straight, water in the braking zone at the end of main straight and just before the uphill. Basically, everywhere. So I follow everybody around on the first lap. On the second and later laps, I start picking up some speed and testing the limits. Big Bend is pretty slippery on the concrete patches; if I go deep and stay off the concrete it's not too bad. Have to go back onto the concrete for the 2nd apex, but its okay, just a little squirely. Have to square off the "esses", lose a little speed, but can really still hammer down the "no-name" back straight. Whoaa! I had stood on the brakes getting ready for the uphill right hand turn and hit a patch of water and it was just like water skiing. I was headed right straight into a tire wall at the end. Jumped off the brakes to get the tires moving again and just turned the wheel. Missed the apex by a country mile. That got my heart pumping, not quite as relaxed now. I don't have ABS on this old car.

So I'm slipping and sliding through the turns. Hey this isn't so bad. Most of my track driving this year has been in monsoon like conditions, so I'm used to having the back end of the car do the wiggle. Settling in, I catch up with a car going through Big Bend. He's just poking around the corner when the moment of illumination, my epiphany struck: This isn't drivers ed, I can pass anytime! I punch the gas and take him on the outside, dive for the inside of the "esses", brake and turn left. Woohoo! My first pass, way cool! This ain't your father's drivers ed baby! Time to go hunting!

In Driver Education track events, my favorite thing to do is to track down and pass people. If they're as skilled or better than me, so much the better. To get somebody better than yourself, you have to drive a perfect line. Nothing like reeling in somebody, putting a little friendly pressure on and then capitalizing on a mistake and making a pass. Of course in drivers ed, you're limited to areas where you can make a pass on someone. Only on certain straights and never in the corners. This leads to my least favorite thing at drivers ed events: following a slow car through a endless series of corners before you can pass them. On some courses you get behind a slower car and you're stuck there forever. But salvation is at hand, here I can pass anywhere. All too soon the checker flag was waving ending the session. All the way back to the paddock, I had a huge grin on my face. Boy I was loving this.

Meanwhile, back at the paddock, work is continuing on Tom's car. Dan's friend Scott had flown into LaGuardia last night and was helping. Scott's flight was delayed getting in due to the storm the night before. By the time Scott's flight arrived, well after midnight, all the rental cars were gone. Not having the $150 to hire a taxi, Scott applied a little entrepreneurial bartering, trading $80 in cash plus a new Water Pik still in the package for his ride. He finally arrives at Dan's door about 4:30am. Everybody's fingers are getting numb in the cold and wet, but the work goes on.

Soon enough its time for my second session. Still pouring, temps in the 50's, lousy day for racing, but I'm still psyched. As I turn into the false grid, I'm stopped by a pit working with a clipboard. Number 88? You're in spot #11. Okay, sure, no problem. I wondered how they figured that out. I pull up and back into the 11th spot and wait for the grid to fill up. Time counts down and we're back out on the track. Same as before, I'm catching and passing a lot of folks out here, mostly other rookies like me. Car is slipping and sliding all over the place but I'm having a lot of fun. Occasionally a faster car will come up and pass me in a corner. I give them a wave to let them know I see them and what side I would like them to pass me on. I give some room and whoosh, right past me. I find that for some reason the concrete patch in West Bend is very grippy, much more so than the asphalt around it. Of course everybody is staying off all the concrete patches around the track because the traction is diminished. So nobody tries the patch in West Bend. I start to get good jumps off that corner on people. I run up on the inside, ease on the brakes and start sliding along the asphalt and wham! into the concrete, the car hooks up and turns in and goes. I surprise a few and leave more than a few behind at that corner.

As I pull in from my second session, they had just gotten the master cylinder bolted in. Now we need to bleed the brakes, and Tom should be ready to go. Bleed the rears, next the fronts. Not getting any firm pedal. Lets try 3 fast strokes and hold. Ready, go. Again. Starting to get some pedal. "Hold it!" says Scott, "where's that flashlight?". Springing into action, I deftly wield the requested instrument. Shining the light on the master cylinder body we notice a small bubble of brake fluid forming whenever pedal pressure is applied. Uh-oh. There's a crack in the casting of the new master cylinder. This is like a body blow to Tom. Like me, Tom had some unexpected last minute preparations for the race. The stress of getting ready; the night drive through the storm; the work of the whole morning gone for naught; being cold, wet and miserable; Tom was ready to pack it in.

However the team of Dan & Scott weren't ready to give up yet. How about if we take the guts of the new master cylinder and put them in the old, but non-cracked housing? Tom was dubious, but lunch and the enthusiasm of Dan and Scott won him over. Work was started immediately. Since the parts had just gone in, they came out much easier and faster.

My 3rd practice session was a repeat of the first two. More rain, more puddles, the occasional locked-up tires braking at the end of the main straight, more passing, less being passed (probably because only us idiot rookies were out in these conditions).

3 o'clock and time for a driver's meeting. Wandering up to the Michelin tower, I duck under the eves to get out of the rain. Just wandering around, waiting for the meeting to start, I come across some activity in one of the alcoves. A bunch of papers are stapled to the wall. What's this? I edge closer and realize that they are time sheets. I forgot to check whether or not my transponder was working. I grab a sheet for race group 3 / 3rd practice and scan it. There I am. Position 11 out of 18. Cool, that's why they kept gridding me there. I can't believe I didn't even think about the transponder and my times. They said in the Orientation meeting that the position for the practice starts and fun race and qualifying would be based upon your times in the 3rd practice session. I'm solidly mid pack So I'm happy with 11th.

Time for the practice starts. This ought to be awesome. I've watched it many times on TV, but there's nothing like the real thing. I'm early to the grid, back into the 11th spot up against the fence. Of course it's still pouring rain, still cold. Actually I'm not cold. The only time I'm warm is when I'm strapped down in the car. I've finally remembered to fix my face shield on my helmet so that it doesn't randomly snap shut in the middle of racing. Which is a good thing since every time it does, it starts to fog up. A pit worker comes up to the window and tells me that I can roll up the passenger window until we go out onto the track. I smile and thank her and think: What's the point? I'm soaked, the car is soaked. Can't reach the window anyway. Probably just fog up the windshield.

Get the signal and pull out onto the front straight. Just on the main straight is a guy standing out there, the "splitter". Every car that comes out gets directed to one side, the next car to the other. I get directed to the outside. Off we go around the track two abreast, speeding up and slowing down. The pace car is only running about 25 mph and the group keeps bunching up. It seems like forever to get around the track. Finally through West Bend the pack starts to speed up. Down the Diving Turn and onto the main straight.

Engines are starting to buzz. I'm straining, trying to see the starters stand down the straight, but its raining pretty hard. Finally a flash of green, the engines next to me start howling and I hit the gas. All around me the roar of motors, water is rooster-tailing off all the cars. I can't see anything, I can barely see the taillights of the car in front of me. Somebody comes flying down the middle into the pack toward the end of the straight. I'm thinking that's some crazy SOB, the middle of the track is just one big puddle, so easy to spin and then you're toast. Likely to take out a bunch of cars right in turn one.

Under the bridge, I see brake lights ahead through the water spray, I late brake and close up to the car in front of me. We go through Big Bend two aside. The car in front of me takes the normal line, diving to the inside for the 2nd apex. I stay outside and pass him. A quick glance and I notice a hole opens up on the right. I hit the gas and jump into it. Alright! picked up 2 positions. Left turn into the esses coming up. Shit! A car spins out in front of me. I'm way too hot, nowhere to go, I lock up the brakes and spin into the mud on the outside and watch as the rest of the pack passes by. I scramble back out on the track but we were racing only up the next turn so everybody is back in pace car mode. Damn. I was in a decent position, survived the start and picked up a place and then I got greedy. Now I'm DFL (dead f'ing last). Plus I'm (along with all the other rookies) are being graded on my performance. Screw this up and I won't get my license.

Everybody lines up behind the pace car. I hustle up and join again. We crawl over the uphill at 20 mph, thru West Bend, and once again speed picks up. Down the Downhill and onto the front straight and to the green flag. This time I race clean and pick up one position before we stop racing. Now for the last practice start, they are going to let us continue into a 5 lap fun race. No points, doesn't count for anything, just fun.

Back to the main straight, looking for the green flag. And we're off! Down into Big Bend, stay to the outside. Ernie Fink was ahead of me in a gold 944 turbo. I try to go around the outside and he cuts me off. I stick my nose into the 2nd apex and he closes the door on me and I back off. Up to the left hander, I pressure him and stick my nose up on the inside and he closes the door again. We go through the Esses and he gets onto the concrete patches and goes wide for the right hander into No-Name straight. I've been waiting for this and my line is good and I'm going to pass him on the inside. He decides that he isn't going to let me do this and punches the gas. This was a bad move on his part. He didn't have a clean line through the corner so he was sliding a little on the slick track and then … the turbo kicked in. At that point, he was just along for the ride. I had a great front row seat as I watch the back end slowly start to break free and rotate and drift at 60 mph across my nose, to leave the track tail first and up an dirt and mud embankment. Dirt, rocks, mud went flying onto the track as he went flying off it. I remember thinking that I was glad I didn't drive a Turbo anymore. I hoped the car wasn't too badly damaged, and then I was gone. A lap or two later I caught and passed a car by taking advantage of the grippy concrete patches in West Bend. A lap later the checker came out with me in 11th position where I started.

Back at the paddock, the optimistic duo, Dan and Scott, had overcome numerous obstacles and had rebuilt Tom's master cylinder. It was re-installed and the brakes were bled. Only a few parts were left over this time. A few laps around the paddock and it was determined a success. At this point, every body was tired, stressed, cold and wet (it was still raining). We all left in our separate ways, looking for food, drink and shelter.

Maggie and I headed for the CVR Race dinner. Originally scheduled to be held under a huge tent at the top of the hill, they switched it to use the small chalets next to the tent. With the lousy weather, if they hadn't changed location, they might have had a very low attendance. Our dinner companions showed the wide range of people in this sport. One fellow asked what kind of car I had, and when told a 73 RS, responded that he also had one of those. When questioned if that was what he was racing, he told us that no, he had just taken possession of a new 2000 911 GT-3R, just like the ones racing at Daytona and Sebring. A GT-3R, with spare engine, comes in around $180,000 from the factory. He then had it transported from his home area, California, to Lime Rock for his 1st club race complete with a personal mechanic. If that wasn't enough, his next question floored me. He hadn't really read the rule book and wondered if I could explain how PCA Club Racing classified cars.

The gentleman next to me exemplified the other side of club racing. He was a volunteer, working the grid. He took off a day from work, to stand around in the pouring rain all day while us racers got to play. When questioned why, he explained that he wanted to go racing next year and wanted to be involved, to learn about the process and to give something back to the program. This is the true spirit of club racing.

So, my first race. Even though it didn't really count and was only a practice race, the thrill was tremendous. I learned a good lesson about being too greedy. Learned it at a point where it didn't hurt me or the car. Learned to keep my head while pressuring other drivers to lose theirs. Learned what an amazing adrenalin rush it is to be part of a start. Most importantly, I learned that this was fun for me. I was looking forward to the next day and the real racing.

But first, a hot shower.

Next: Race Day