2013 Race Season Update - Race #6

It was another beautiful day for racing, warm and mostly sunny.  We've done pretty good this year not really needing treaded tires, which makes me happy because my rain tires are my street tires (BFG G Force Sports).

There were close to 80 competitors racing Sunday, and the fields were pretty deep, despite the fact that the Provincial Mobil 1 Series races were going on the same weekend up in Barrie.

In my class, BMOD, two of the fastest drivers were there, and they were definately a match for even the top dogs in the series, closing in within a second or so.  And with this sort of competition, I had to work even harder to stand my ground.  I knew that within the field I could realistically see third place, but it was a matter of actually doing it.  Easier said than done.

After the regular morning rituals of registering, setting the car up, walking the course a number of times, and going to the drivers meeting, all 77 drivers were anxious to get ready, especially the ones who had never competed before.

The first run resulted in a good base to start from, placing first in class.  But, as we all know, drivers learn quickly, and first place at this point of the day is no more secure than a Brink's truck with the doors wide open, all the safes unlocked and the security gaurds passed out from drinking a 40 of moonshine in the back alley.

I quickly slipped out of first and dropped down to 6th place.  Mid-course there was a wide smooth curve that led onto the longest straight I have ever seen at a PITL Series race.  The straight ended with a 90 degree right turn that turned into a quick left turn, essentially a backwards 'S'.  If done right, it would look super sweet, and smooth.  If done wrong it would end up with smoky skid marks into a wall of cones(See the animated GIF below).

This shot was taken from 8 frames that photographer Ken Lin took, who was trackside.
This was my second run with a complete lock up at the end of the long straight.

Speeds were ticking three digits, and the Spec-V was pinging off of the rev limiter about half way down the straight in 2nd gear.  I had to think, should I just stop accelerating and leave it in 2nd while the engine bounced off the rev limiter, or should I waste a bit of time shifting, but still get a second or 2 of acceleration, then downshift to 2nd to tackle the 'S'?

This straight ended up being the bane of my day, where experimenting with shift points, and braking zones led to locked brakes, miss-shifts and cones being obliterated.  So much so that a cone got wedged into the underside and stuck between the body and the exhaust.  Thanks to that stray cone, the rest of the day was filled with pungent burned rubber cone smell that must have melted onto my exhaust piping.

I was getting discouraged and all through the day, I was having not one clean run, until my last one.  Even that run was squeezed out with a little drama in itself.

After doing a run where I shifted to third on the straight, perfectly heel-and-toed back to 2nd in the perfect location and weeving nicely into the tight 'S', the rest of the run felt smooth and relaxed.  I felt like it was my best of the day, and it was cone free.

When I was waiting at the stop box to hear my time, the stop box marshal walked up to me and stated that I had to do a do over.  The timer did not register my run.  Gah!

So I went straight into the queue and ran it again.  This time luckily it felt just as strong and it bumped me up to 3rd in class by a mere 0.050 seconds.  I tell you, I'm really getting much too comfortable in 3rd place as this is now my third 3rd place of the season.  I'm at least consistant.

I was happy with the result though because it was a tough fight all day long. I had been working on that one area the entire day, without really concentrating on any of my other areas that needed improvement.  Trust me I had a few more places I wanted to work on, but that damn straight killed me.

So the last race of the season for me is Sept 8th.  I'm hoping for something more than 3rd.  I should have enough points to get me in the running for a podium in the championships, but as I have demonstrated, the course always throws curveballs at you.

As we sit right now I'm fourth in the standings behind 3rd place by 3 points.  I need to get a result of at least 3 places above him next race.  Doable, hard, but not impossible.

Also, for some reason, all of my in car video was recorded as the car sat in the paddock before the race, and my memory card had no more room for actual race video.  I only found that out the day after, when I was going to upload my videos to Youtube (Check out my Youtube Channel: twinchracing).  I got some nice shots of people's ankles walking by, but completely useless other than to see what the current fashion trends are for racing shoes and sock combos.  Ah well, I'll get some video next time...hopefully.

The Drama of the Queue

Crunch and Smoke
Sleeping on the job, and missing the braking zone makes for a smoky DNF.

At my last race, as I was sitting in the queue line waiting to get on track, my mind started to think about how even as I was waiting silently, in my rumbly, rattily cocoon that that moment still had a lot of excitement, even before the race started.

I strap into the 3 point harness, and lock my CG Lock to keep me snug in the belt my heart starts to increase in speed. I put the key into the ignition and bring my four cylinder beast to a violent if not hesitatingly filled life.

The solid motor mounts transmit every vibration and quiver of my Sentra's heart through the chassis and into my butt and up my spine. 

I slip my open faced helmet over my head, and as it covers my ears, I am transported into slight environmental deprivation.  The noise of engine is muffled now, but I now have more of a tactile awareness of the slightly irregular idle.  I can feel through the steering column and into my hands the engine and all of its nuances.

I click the shifter into the gate of first gear, with a satisfying clunk, and slowly I engage the clutch with a small chatter as it engages, and starts to spin the aluminum flywheel.  I creep slowly forward through the paddock, being ultra-aware of all of the biological and mechanical life that swarms around like aimless wasps.  You never can tell what someone might do in these places, especially since many of the people there are there to watch only, and don't fully understand that this place can be dangerous.

Buzzing everywhere around me with a lot of energy, worker bees hover around some cars that have bonnets open checking fluids, or making adjustments.  Air compressors and impact guns are heard through the area, echoing off the walls of the surrounding warehouses. 

In contrast though from the busy-bodies, there are also a tonne of people loafing around, talking and enjoying the greatest sport on Earth. (my opinion of course).  

They talk about the past Le Mans, or some mod that they are trying out that day, or what our goof of a mayor was up to that past week.  Whatever the conversation, and no matter what differences we may all have out in the non-autocross world, we are all there now, at that moment,  autocrossers, and that is all that matters.  We are all friends there.

I can't get distracted though, and keeping my wits about me is very important.  Again, you never know what can happen unexpectedly.

Through my Hankook Z214's stiff sidewall, I can feel the cracks, and pebbles I'm rolling over through the paddock.  I feel connected to my car, much more than I do on my regular summer tires, with all the disruptions of everyday life.  I'm focused.

I arrive at staging, stop and think about what I am about to do.  I take a deep breath, and think of every corner of the course.  I walked the course at least 5 times so I know it pretty well by this time.  Some people draw out the course on a sheet of paper.  "This season I didn't do that, but I'll start next season.", I think to myself.  

My thing is to walk the course alone in the beginning of the day.  Free of the distractions of conversation.  I have an entire day to talk to my friends between runs.

When it's my second, or third run of the day, I'll think about where I can improve from the previous run, but right now, all I have is my morning walk-throughs.

I stare ahead, and go through the entire course in my head.  A perfect run in my brain could just translate to one in reality. 

The car ahead of me roars out from the starting box, spitting smoke and bits of rubber, a Ford Mustang Boss 302.  Man that exhaust sounds viscous. 

I take one more cleansing deep breath.  I shake my hands vigorously to get rid of all the creaks, and stretch out the joints. 

The starter man signals me to move forward into the start box.  I move forward with the direction from the starting man, until I stop inches away from the laser timer's invisible beam.  

In front of me seems like an endless sea of cones.  From this lowered vantage point I scan the parking lot.  The course looks like a jumble of spaced out traffic cones.  It could look extremely confusing to someone who has never done this, but after so many years of racing, I know better, and I know where I'm going.

I watch for a short period of time the Boss 302 that just burst out onto the coarse, tracking it like a sentinel on a watch tower, as it corners around a tight hairpin with a slight twitch in the rear.  A momentary lapse, but I focus back on the job at hand. 

I take one more deep breath and stretch out my fingers one more time, while looking as far forward as possible, because that is where I will be in a few seconds.

"Ready?", the starter yells at me so I can hear him through my helmet and the popping of back fire from the car's on track.

My heart races, my brain is now focused fully on the course.  My eyes are unblinking, and I watch the first important gate where I'll be entering. 

A gentle breeze comes into my windows over my face.  With that movement of air a slight odour of rubber, and burning brakes fills my nose.  I slightly push down the accelerator pedal to increase the engine's RPM's to 1250.  More vibration.  More noise.  More exhilaration.

I depress my SPEC clutch forcefully to the floor, and push the gear lever into first gear.

Rolling my fingers on the shifter knob,  I can hear my breath inside my helmet.  Everything is peaceful.  Everything is quiet.  There is nothing now left to do except blast out of the starting gate.  It seems the world has stopped momentarily...  

"GO!"

Sometimes Things Change.

I have been noticing that during the racing season, I don`t do much in regards to the E-Crosser, because I`m so busy, so I`ve officially decided to change what my blog is all about.

Yes, I will still write about the E-Crosser, because it is my goal to have it complete by the time I turn 45, but I thought I would expand in writing about my life as an Autocrosser, and the things I do in that life.  I will write about things I do to prep the Sentra, or even projects I do that are somewhat related to my racing life.

With this change I also changed my blog`s titlepage to reflect the new direction.

The next blog entry will be this week, and I had an idea on my commute into work on the subway.  I wrote an entire entry on my Ipod as I was listening to some excellent Real Synthetic Audio on my headphones.

I hope that it will be a more entertaining read...I hope, I really, really do.