Feb. 1, 2004


 

Friday, January 31st, was a sunny SoCal day, just like any other, except for the fact that I was about to leave the rush hour-filled freeway behind and get into a different line of traffic...at 120mph+, drafting other racecars on a banked super speedway. Yep, this was my first trip to California Speedway in a newly completed SpecMiata racecar, and this, the SCCA season opener, would prove to be an eye-opener in many ways.

I'd just raced the new car for the first time at the beginning of January, and finished on the podium in only my third wheel-to-wheel road race. It was a confidence-builder to be sure, and yes, I'd out-driven several faster cars and a gang of SpecMiata racecars like mine. But this race was to be different, largely different. It's hard to imagine what it’s like racing in a 60 (yes that's SIXTY) car field, racing side-by-side at the limit of control. But that's just what I was about to face, as the SCCA's hotly contested SpecMiata class was about to start another thrilling race season, and I'd be in the thick of it. I rolled my truck and rented U-haul trailer up to a pit next to my friends Dave Levy and Tim Buck. Dave's been racing for several years, and while he calmly checked over his car after having already tracked it for a test session Friday morning, my wife Shannon and I got to work--she was cleaning the car windows from the trailer ride up from San Diego while I connected our 2-way radio setup. It'd be great to have someone being my eyes and ears for parts of the track out of my view through radio communication. It's also a benefit if you're teamed up with another car to draft and maximize speed on the speedway section of the course. Tucking-in behind another car makes slicing through the air more efficient, allowing you to reach higher speeds than on your own.

California Speedway is a world-class facility, a D-shaped super speedway developed by racing legend Roger Penske, where Indy and NASCAR racers reach speeds over 230mph. Our road race course followed the speedway about two thirds the way around before entering the infield road section, 21 turns in total--double that of the Daytona 24hr racecourse. Coming off of the speedway into the technical infield section entails going from flat-out in 5th gear to a 2nd gear, 90-degree left-right combination. If you think some cars spin there, you'd be correct, sir! During my first test session, I pretty much made every mistake you can on that turn (and got it out of my system fortunately). First test session, I followed cars that braked too late and I went backwards thru the turn, then I turned-in too early and did a two-way tail-wag, followed by a backward slide, and the final botch was a high-speed drifting spin completely off the track, thru the infield next to the tire wall barrier that had the course workers scattering. Well, I guess sometimes, you have to hit yourself in the thumb a few times before you get the hang of hammering a nail straight and true. That turn ended up being the scene of several successful passes during the race for me later on.

The second and final test session I had time for on Friday was clean, fast and really fun. Dave Levy and I were drafting, with him taking the lead from the get-go (better to watch the line of a driver who's experienced at this track than to wing it, especially at high speed). We drove a couple of feet apart on the speedway section and picked up about 6mph over what either of us could do alone, approximately 122mph was reached before hitting turn 2 on the banking and hauling down quickly into the tight left-hander. I chased Dave, trying to stay close on the banked front straight and through turns 1 and 2, each time hearing the t-t-t-t-t-tapping of sand kicking up from his rear wheels and pelting the front of my car and windshield. I have a full-face helmet, but I removed the shield for better ventilation and I wear wraparound sunglasses to protect my eyes. Good thing, because some of the sand actually got sucked-in thru the window and was finding it's way into my helmet, and I was even spitting out grains of sand while driving. I told Dave he should draft me next time! And the nose of my freshly polished car was pretty well sandblasted into a sea-sponge-like surface. Well, that's a racecar for ya!

Oh, did I forget to mention that the test sessions were open-wheel and closed-wheel, all classes included? That meant any and all close-wheel cars were on the track at the same time, regardless of class, power or speed differences. We were sharing the turns with cars sporting over 500hp in some cases. It's pretty interesting seeing a GT-1 car getting larger and larger in the rearview mirror, knowing that he'll be into the turn at the same time as you very shortly. No sudden moves is the rule. He's gotta pick his line to get by cleanly, and you've gotta hold your line and maintain speed and control. Making contact with a car traveling the same speed is one thing, but a confrontation with a faster car could multiply the impact several times over; not something to take lightly. I kept making smooth transitions from turn to turn, and didn't tangle with anyone. Tim Buck recorded some hand-timed laps, and Dave Levy and I were running roughly 3 seconds off of last year's track record lap time. Not bad for a second driving session on the first day at a new track.

Next was the official race practice session Friday afternoon, where the full racing field would assemble just as in the live race on Saturday. We had several (similar-speed) car classes running in our race, and a healthy 60-car field. To put it in perspective, a typical Indy car field is 20-30 cars. It looked like a parade out there, but without the cute dancing girls and friendly waving celeb's...no, it was more of an insane rush-hour of helmeted lead-foots. Each lap was not only an experiment to see how many cars could fit cleanly through a particular turn or chicane at speed, it was also an exercise in 360-degree awareness. I was looking several cars ahead to plan passes and drafting, while checking my mirrors to the rear and both sides, to see who might be trying to out-brake me or take up the inside line coming into a turn. Everything went very well, it was even fun, if you can believe that. Yes, after the adrenaline switch turns on, all of the intensity, complication, speed and variables combine into one thrilling multi-colored roller coaster ride, one that you can actually steer and dynamically change moment-by-moment. I pulled into the pit afterward with a big grin, tons of confidence and a relaxing mindset, now that I'd gotten comfortable with such a high-speed track and was ready for the race.

Saturday, February 1st, was race day. Dave and I were planning on drafting during the qualifying laps, to maximize our speed and give ourselves the best chance at a spot near the front of this massive field for the start of the race. Our race group was scheduled to go on track for the qualifying round at 10:20am, with the race later in the afternoon. As luck, bad luck that is, would have it, the race organizers ran ahead of schedule--something that rarely if ever happens. Dave and I pulled up in the starting grid area 10 minutes earlier than the start time, thinking we were ahead of schedule, but we never heard the announcement over the PA system, one that would let us know our group was running earlier than the schedule showed. As we pulled up to the course workers that would start us out onto the track, they informed us the checkered flag was about to fly, ending our group’s qualifying session! We were in disbelief, and frankly, I was fuming. As I motioned a "What's going on?" with my hands from inside the car, a course steward walked up and held the schedule up to my window netting, pointing to the disclaimer at top which said something to the effect of "It's the driver's responsibility to know when his group is on track." As he pointed to that, I pointed to the printed schedule two inches below it, where my group's qualifying time read "10:20" and it was now 10:10. After pulling back into the pit, with my wife and friends looking-on having heard the news from others that we'd missed qualifying, I quickly unlatched my harness, popped out of the car, and took off on a scooter toward the Chief Steward's encampment in the Driver's Meeting Room. I was going to plead for a chance to race. I mistakenly thought that if we didn't record a qualifying time, we couldn't race and the whole weekend would be a waste. No sooner had I mumbled, "We didn't hear the schedule change over the intercom, is there any way we can still race?", a nice older fella, the one who'd stuck the schedule in my window, said "Oh, you can still race, you'll just have to start at the BACK." Well, as crazy as it may seem, I was actually relieved and a little amused. There was no way we'd have a chance at finishing in the top few with such a large field, but just being able to follow through and race after all of the preparation and anticipation brought a smile to my face. I scooter'd back to the pit, rolled up to Dave, my wife, Tim and my newly-arrived second radio-spotter, Dave Kelly, and said, "Well guys, we'll just have to pass everybody, that's all! Hey, if the front pack crashes into each other coming off the banking on the first lap, and the second third panics and spins out too, we've got a good chance at this thing!" We shared a chuckle, and I resolved never, EVER, to miss qualifying again. Hammer hits thumb once again.

The race time came, and Dave and I sat at the back of the grid while cars filed out into starting positions, let me tell you...it was something to see, there were a LOT of cars. I could hear the announcer calling the crowd over to the grid area to witness the sea of cars that was assembling. There were a couple of delinquents who joined us at the back. It was like watching a fellow rule-breaker saunter into the library after school for detention. My wife called over the radio, passing on an advisory from a pro racing friend who was watching up above. He said that the BMW behind us was "Tony Rigatoni"...I don't remember his name, it was some fancy Italian-sounding racecar driver name, and that he was a fast driver, so I should hook onto him as he goes by and try to draft behind his racecar. Well, after the pace lap transitioned to a frenzied first lap launching under the green flag, I didn't see that BMW again. There were so many blaring sounds and flying colors, I just focused on making my way through to the first infield turn without wearing someone else's fenders.

The race was a 30-minute timed event, and the first 10 minutes were just about perfect. I worked my way up to roughly mid-pack, passing several cars each lap, and avoiding contact with others despite running 3-to-4-wide on the speedway section at times. Dave Levy made a great pass on the outside banking and was a couple cars ahead, having a great race. I had a multi-lap battle with a fast BMW from another class, passed by out braking him into one of the tighter infield turns, only to get overtaken due to a missed-shift exiting the last turn before re-entering the speedway section. A lap later, I re-passed him under braking again, and put several car lengths between us as I drafted, caught and then overtook more cars. Then, the race was slowed for another 10-12 minutes under a double yellow flag, while course workers cleared collision debris and did course repair. A few cars had bumpers removed, but nothing too serious fortunately. After the yellow was taken down and we went back to racing under the green, I just plain lost my head somehow. The rhythm and focus I'd had was lulled away under the slow-moving yellow flag traffic. I overtook 4 or 5 more cars, and then passed approaching the last infield chicane before the speedway section and braked way too late before turn-in. I'd lost the tail in the entry to that section previously, but counter-steered and throttled out of it rally-style. This time, I swapped ends quickly and completely, facing the traffic I'd just passed, bearing down on me. I clutched as I spun, so as not to stall the engine, quickly geared down and steered off the track under throttle, missing a potential collision by about a car's width. I pulled back onto the track, put the pedal to the floor and got back into the fray. I re-passed some of the cars, and then was about to overtake two cars in the decreasing-radius turn right in front of the infield bleachers, but it was not to be. These two drivers were blocking me up ahead side-by-side, and I outbraked them coming into the turn, carrying speed to make a pass, but without a line to pass. To avoid impacting one of them, I had no choice but to brake harder and pitch the car off-line. A quick 180, and a re-entry to the race line.

I was now chasing down a Porsche and there was but a lap left in the race, and in true "It's not over 'til it's over" spirit, I kept on the gas and wasn't letting up. While setting up a pass on the Porsche, I almost got hit, as he hadn't checked his mirrors during the course of a full lap, and nearly nailed me as I moved up next to him approaching an infield turn at 80mph. He never knew I was there, although I'd been doing my best to fill up his mirrors center, right and left to inform him of my intentions. Starting at the back didn't mean it wasn't a race. To the contrary, it meant it was a time to practice racing technique, full-tilt passing attempts, drafting in 5th-gear on flat-out speedway banking, and building some mental toughness all at once.

As a ski racer in high school and college years, I'd learned not to give up under adverse situations, and it not only made for a winning attitude, it also led to success that couldn't have come any other way. This race had a mixture of driving greatness and errors for me, but the satisfaction of racing in such a fast, world-class facility, conquering intimidation and keeping a cool head under the gun made for an incredible day overall. I was a little disappointed to have given up my hard-fought positions with two simple mistakes, but those scenes are now ingrained in my memory, and what I learned in those split-seconds will guide reactions the next time out. It's all about learning, programming your brain to react to situations automatically, and it takes time to build up the experience and information to fill those memory banks. I have a lot to learn, both about race driving and myself, but that’s the fun part. At high speed, it's truly amazing to see what your brain can process and what you're capable of. I'll be back racing at California Speedway March 6th and 7th for the NASA series season opener, and although commuting gives me fits, I'm looking forward to this rush hour traffic with great anticipation.

Special thanks and appreciation to my loving wife Shannon for radio-ing, snapping pictures and otherwise just making me feel good by being there for me, my good friend Dave Kelly for making the trip up to help with spotting and radio communication (it’s so great to have a buddy looking out for you during the excitement), nice guys Dave Levy and Tim Buck for helping with pit work, timing and sharing their fun and friendship, and Spec Rx7 racer Jeff Jordan for letting us duck in out of the sun in his trailer.

 Dave Cynkin: (858) 395-3490 cell
dave@imagefactory.us
www.imagefactory.us