In an open top race car, with unpadded carbon fibre seats, its feels a lot further.
This is how it started.
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| Back in the garage again, trip counter showing total distance. |
Our regional away race was scheduled for PE this year. Aldo Scribante is a great little track. Its a mere 2.4km long and has a short main straight, but you are never bored driving Aldo. Its a constant string of tight corners, dips and hidden apexes. It's hard work, but get it all right and its the most rewarding track I have ever driven. Of course, get it wrong and ..well...you get the picture.
General consensus is that you should be lapping around 10 seconds off your Killarney time. This has the Porsche GT3's lapping at 1:06's and should have me doing 1:15's. I had done a 1:15 last year in my Lotus so set myself a lofty target of 1:12. As I have mentioned before, goals are a good thing.
We were entered and accommodation was booked when Craig suggested we should drive our cars up. He had driven up the previous year with James (the chap I bought my Lotus 7 from, and yes, James had driven up in the self same Lotus - mad bugger!).
The thought was certainly appealing. I mean, how many folks could say they had driven their race car almost eight hundred kilometres, raced it and then driven it back again. It took me a split second to decide. I was in too.
However, as I sat in my car on a dark and dreary Thursday morning, the spots of rain appearing on my visor, I was questioning my impulsiveness and sanity in general. It was cold, wet and I had never driven my car more than 150km in one go. Anyway, Craig was on his way to the rendezvous point already so there was not option but to dive into the dark deep end head first. I mean, how hard could it be?
I headed off up the highway in the semi dark and drizzle bound for the N2 One Stop to meet up with Craig. Traffic was expectedly light for 6:30 in the morning and very soon I pulled up next to Craig who had just filled up. We chatted for a moment, then buckled up and hit the road. We were schedule to meet up with our support team (my folks) just over Sir Lowry's pass so needed to press on. On the way up the pass we were treated to the most magnificent rainbow arching across False Bay. Once over the pass the weather cleared and the sun broke though warm and welcoming. We would have a few different thoughts about the sun on the return trip, but more of that later.
A few minutes later we pulled up next to the folks and transferred some of our excess baggage across to their car. We discussed our re-fueling stops for a bit and then settled in for the long drive to the Mossel Bay fuel stop. Craig had a fairly good idea regarding the fuel consumption of his car, but I had absolutely no idea of mine. My car had never actually been filled to the brim and pretty much all the driving it had done to-date was at race pace, not really a benchmark for consumption. Anyway, Mossel Bay was around 300km down the drag and I figured my 57 litre tank should get me that far, at least I hoped as much.
Shortly after we set off again I realised that I would need to change my visor as the sun was now out in full force. We pulled over at a picnic spot and Craig immediately leapt from his car and bounded into the bushes. Good timing then I figured.
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| A wee break and visor change |
Time passed fairly quickly after that with me trying in vain to maintain the national speed limit and get my left foot comfortable. The car has no foot rest for the clutch foot since you generally are using the clutch in race conditions and, besides, there is no space for one anyway. This requires a bit of fiddling to get ones left foot nicely wedged and comfortable without either resting on the clutch or brakes. After a while I got it right and settled down to enjoy the drive.
The car is remarkably comfortable. The Tillet seats are exceptionally well designed and created no pressure spots, even though they have no padding at all. The V8 has so much torque that I might as well have been driving an automatic. It cruises at 130km/h doing a hair under 3000rpm and any overtaking manoeuvre simply requires a little squeeze of the loud pedal. Under these conditions the throttle is barely cracked open. Still the fuel gauge was dropping at an alarming rate.
We were scheduled to make a late breakfast stop at the Blue Crane just outside Heidelberg where we enjoyed a great old farm-style breakfast. We check both car's vitals and everything seemed to be in order so we hit the road again. Next stop was our first refuelling at Mossel Bay.
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| Resting in the shade at the Blue Crane |
Some time later we pulled into the One Stop at Mossel Bay and filled the tanks. Craig had been buzzing along doing almost double my revs for the same speed, but much to our surprise, both cars took exactly 38 litres of fuel. This equated to around 10litres/100km. We were well chuffed. This also proved that my fuel gauge calibration was a little off. I had never really spent much time calibrating it and had simply used a straight line curve to convert the resistance value of the pickup to a voltage for the DASH2 display. This of course assumes the tank is totally symmetrical top to bottom, which it is not. In the end all that really happens is that the gauge drops fast to start with then slows down near the quarter mark. I could live with that.
My folks had driven the next section a little while back and warned us that it would take some time. There were some ongoing roadworks coming up and a collection of camera traps that would make any paparazzi proud. We decided to enjoy the scenery between George and Plett. We were in no major rush anyway and since this was my old stomping ground, I was keen to see what it looked like these days.
The section between Mossel Bay and George is a great bit of dual carriage way and features a couple of winding climbs. One particularly memorably section climbs and winds up out of Great Brak for a couple of kilometres. The start of the climb was heralded by a 20 valve down shift to my right and had us playing tag all the way up the hill. The sound was glorious.
The rest of the time was spent trundling along at either 80km/h our 60km/h and just enjoying the scenery. The Garden Route really is a pretty section of our country and can truly be enjoyed in an open top sports car. Of course the weather was stunning at this point which helped considerably too.
Storms River was our next fuel stop and we finally pulled in some time later, a little tired from having to concentrate so hard keeping the cars legal. Every time we stopped a little crowd would develop and Storms River was no exception. I would love to know what happens to all the pictures that get taken of us. We filled up with fuel, consumption was now down to 9.8l/100km, and accommodated some tourist photo opportunities before heading out again.
We were now on the Tsitsikamma Toll Road that features the stunning Bloukrans bridge across the Bloukrans river. This bridge, completed in 1983 and with a hight of 216m, is the highest bridge on the African Continent. For the really brave, a bungee jump operates off the upper span of the bridge and is the highest commercial bungee jump in the world. We had some motor racing to do so decided not to sample their wares.
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| Storms River stop with the usual crowd gathering |
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| The 216m Bloukrans bridge |
Sadly, the construction of this bridge allows one to bypass the Bloukrans pass and, while this significantly cuts down on travel time, one does miss out on the stunning pass down and out of Natures Valley. We briefly considered doing the pass on the way home, but discovered it was closed due to rock falls from the winter rains.
Anyway, PE beckoned and the flat, smooth and straight toll road would take us all the way there. Craig lead us out and scampered off into the distance. Talk about a horse smelling the stable! Needless to say the last section into PE yielded a slightly less favourable consumption figure.
We headed straight to the track to meet up with Ant who had towed his Harper down behind his Landy.
We finally pulled into the Aldo Scribante pits nine hours after we had left Cape Town. The cars had performed perfectly and proved themselves very capably touring cars in addition to race cars. The Harp Motorsport guys were also at the track and unloaded the two remaining Harpers they had brought up on the transporter. Once all was said and done we had a string of five Harpers lined up and ready to race.
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| Five Harpers all in a row. A rare sight. |
Practice was scheduled to start at 8:30 on Friday morning so we bundled in to the support cars and headed to the B&B for a cleanup, dinner and some much needed sleep.
I woke at some point to the sound of torrential rain. Clearly the cold front we left in Cape Town had decided to follow us. Since racing in the rain seemed to be the norm now, I was not particularly worried and went back to sleep.
PE is not called the windy city for nothing. Friday was cold, wet and windy. We delayed over breakfast as long as we could, but eventually we simply had to head to the track for some practice. We arrived in the pouring rain, but shortly afterwards the sun struggled through and it was time to go out and explore the track.
It was a year since I had driven here last, but I could still remember some of the sections. The first few laps were rather cautious, but PE has huge amounts of grip due to the rough surface and soon we were all buzzing along merrily. I thought I was doing pretty well until Craig came past me like I was looking for parking. I gave chase for a bit, but decided on discretion rather, given that I still had to get the car home again come Sunday. Initially the laps were slow 1:20's, but as the surface dried up and we got used to things, the times came down with most folk getting into the 15's by the end of the day. We were scheduled to qualify for Saturday race day at 4pm, however a glitch with the timing equipment scuppered that idea. We would now qualify at 8am the following morning. Bruce was also en-route from East London bringing his Lotus and the BMW I drove a couple of weeks back, however a late start meant he would arrive in the dark so we packed up and headed back to the B&B.
Race day dawned clear-ish and windy, again. We all met up at the Harper end of pit lane to ready ourselves for qualifying. Bruce and Gary had also arrived and were setting up shop for the day as well.
I had a bit of a nostalgic moment when Bruce parked his Lotus, my old car, next to my Harper. We were qualifying first at 8am and engines were already being revved in the distance so the nostalgia passed and was replaced by the prerequisite butterflies instead. It was an early start and all rather hectic, as qualifying generally seems to be, but I managed a satisfactory 13.8 time. Less than half a second covered myself, Ant and Alan in the three Harpers so by all accounts we were in for a grand tussle. Craig conclusively proved that he was a sandbagger and slotted in a scorching 11.5 lap, which considering he laps Killarney at 1:24's, is a phenomenal time. The PE track was proving its moniker of being a handling cars track. Brute force and weight did not help here in the windy corner of the country.
I woke at some point to the sound of torrential rain. Clearly the cold front we left in Cape Town had decided to follow us. Since racing in the rain seemed to be the norm now, I was not particularly worried and went back to sleep.
PE is not called the windy city for nothing. Friday was cold, wet and windy. We delayed over breakfast as long as we could, but eventually we simply had to head to the track for some practice. We arrived in the pouring rain, but shortly afterwards the sun struggled through and it was time to go out and explore the track.
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| My castle for the weekend, including trendy moat |
Race day dawned clear-ish and windy, again. We all met up at the Harper end of pit lane to ready ourselves for qualifying. Bruce and Gary had also arrived and were setting up shop for the day as well.
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| The old and the new, side by side |
Race one was called and the time had finally arrived for us to race. We lined up on the grid and started off on our out lap which would end in a rolling start. The idea is that we all bunch up behind the pace car at the last corner and then sprint off when the pace car ducks into the pits. The problem with this approach is that the pit entrance is very close to the corner entering the main straight. The pace car has a couple of metres before it has to duck off or risk being the mechanical equivalent of road kill. This leaves the front of the grid with pretty much the entire main straight stretching out ahead of them. No red blooded race driver can resist that, especially with thirty odd cars queuing up behind. By the time the rear of the grid, where we were, rounded the corner we were at full race pace. I was on the inside of the track with Hennie and Craig ahead. There was no time to ponder pace car etiquette. I stomped on the go faster pedal and thundered down the inside of the track taking both Hennie and Craig in the process. The first hairpin appeared frighteningly soon, but I had the race line so slowed up and closed the door. My mirrors were a blur of cars, but I was in a zone. I managed to pile on three consecutive 1:12 laps creating a large gap between myself and the rest of the cars behind. I was even managing to keep Steve in the rotary powered Lotus 7 in sight up ahead. I was a little surprised that Craig was not right up my exhaust like he usually is if I overtake him at some point, but I would later discover he had developed a fuelling problem and pulled into the pits. Quite an inventive excuse I thought.
The race was progressing well. There was no sign of any challenge from behind, however, I could just not make any impression on Steve up front. Steve was racing in Class D with us for the day so was essentially the front of the race for me. Then, rounding the hairpin on the last lap I noticed bits of bodywork strewn across the corner. Slightly further along and parked up in the run off area was Steve and a Porsche. It looked like he had tried to cut inside the Porsche on the corner, but come off second best in the altercation. Oddly, he was driving the self same Lotus that had clouted me in turn 2 at Killarney some time back. It was once again missing the right front wheel. There was going to be some interesting phone calls later when Steve explained things to Martin who owned the Lotus. Steve was still classified as the winner in Class D with me coming second. However, I had completed one more lap than him, something that would stand me in good stead later. Sadly Ant had stripped his clutch in the early stages of the race and had also called things quits. One fellow who was slapping everyone silly in his class was Carl, up from East London. Carl drives a stock standard Birkin Lotus 7 fitted with a stock standard black top 20 valve Toyota motor. Carl was lapping in the mid to low 10's. Now there's a fellow who can seriously pedal a race car!
Both Gary and Bruce were racing in a different class to us so I went off to watch Gary doing his thing in the BMW. He was having a fearsome battle with some modified Golf Mk1s and they provided a great spectacle.
With the mornings races over it was time for lunch and then our second sprint race of the day. Again we gridded and rolled off on the out lap. The start was a little better this time, but Craig was taking no chances this time. He was gridded ahead of me with Hennie behind. We all descended on turn 1 at great speed and I passed Craig going down the straight, but he had the better line and got the corner ahead of me. He then also got the jump on Alan in the grey Harper as well. I tried to follow suite but was not close enough and ended up running wide going into the sweep towards the main straight. This allowed Hennie to sneak past on the inside. Clearly I was going to have to defend my second place in Class D rather than chase Allan who was racing in Class C. I took Hennie again going down the straight and set about trying to keep him behind me. He was braking much later than me and closed up right behind me on the back section of the track. I would then stroll away down the straight to have it all repeated around the back again. We played this game of yoyo for a good couple of laps. Hennie is a very experienced driver and I guess it was only a matter of time, but he eventually snuck past me. Once on the main straight I took him immediately again thanks to the four litres of V8 in my car. However, he promptly out braked me at the end of the straight thanks the absence of V8 weight in his car. And so it went until he managed to pull out enough of a lead to keep me at bay. We then started being lapped by the Class A cars and all bets were off. I finished third behind Hennie with Craig taking the win some way up the track ahead of us. It was a fantastic race with some real dicing for a change and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.
This ended our sprint races for the day and saw me taking first over all in Class D. It was a close call though, but served to prove the old Rick Mears adage that "to finish first you first need to finish".
All that remained now was the small matter of the one and a half hour enduro. Fourteen cars were entered for this marathon event with Craig, Alan and my cars being the three Harpers present. Considering the average sprint race was lasting around 13 minutes, driving at pace for an hour and a half was a rather daunting prospect. Added to this was the fact that we were required to pit during the race and would need to take on fuel during the stop. This required some coordination with the pit crew which is not an easy task when you only see them for a fraction of a second as you blast past on the main straight. No pit radios here! We had decided to go old school and use a chalk board counting off the time in ten minute blocks. I had calculated that I could easily do one hour before I needed fuel so the 30 minutes to go sign would be my signal to pit. My other plan was to target the index of performance rather than outright race position, as I was ever cognisant of having to drive my car almost 800km home the next day. I mentally settled on 1:15 laps and lined up on the grid with the rest of the drivers. This time should be easy to maintain and not put too much strain on the car. At least I hoped as much.
The race started without incident and I tried to settle down into a rhythm. Bruce had also entered his Lotus in this event and it was being piloted by the ever skilful Carl for the first stint. He had started behind me on the grid, but was all over the back of my car. I now had a bit of a conundrum. If I let him pass around the back of the track I would need to pass him again on the straight to maintain my lap times. This would likely repeat itself every lap and slow us both down, not to mention irritate the socks off Carl. I did the next best thing that came to mind. I put in a couple of hot laps to create a gap between us. I knew he was only driving for the first 30 minutes so did not need to much of a gap. Perfect plan I thought and bolted off in to the distance. Three laps later I was reflecting on my adequate cushion when the stupidity of my plan sunk in. The index of performance is a simple system. They take your fastest lap, multiply it by the number of laps you do and then compare this theoretical time to your actual time as a percentage. Anything over 95% means you have driven very consistently. I had just put in three fast, but entirely unsustainable, laps and effectively doomed my index of performance chances. Ah well, I was still having fun and could now rather concentrate on getting my lines right and really getting grooved into the car.
Thereafter time passed quickly. I was lapped by strings of sliding Porsches who seemed to be treating the race as a sprint and was intrigued by the new skid marks on the track virtually every lap. After a while the Porsches seemed to get less. The enduro is a little surreal as a race. After a couple of laps you are essentially all alone on the track, however, every now and then you will either catch somebody or be lapped by somebody. Within seconds though you are all alone again. The 30 minutes to go board appeared and I pulled in for my fuel stop. This all went off without a hitch and soon I was out lapping again. It was hard work, hard on the body and certainly hard on the cars. Close to the end of the race I was briefly passed by Alan's silver Harper only to have it pull off in front of me, a victim of over heating.
Eventually the chequered flag fell and I rumbled into the pits a happy, albeit rather sweaty, driver. Turns out only seven cars finished the event and I was really happy to see my old Lotus pull in behind me. Two of the three Harpers had run flawlessly with Craig taking fourth over all and third on index while I took sixth over all and somewhere further down on index.
It was now getting dark so we packed the cars, parked them up near the club house and went in for prize giving. This was a jovial and somewhat smokey affair, full of banter and camaraderie borne of competitiveness. We bid farewell to the folks there and headed back to the B&B. This proved to be quite an interesting trip. It was now fully dark and we discovered that I only had one working head light and Craig had none. Strips of rubber off the race tyres had been picked up by our tyres and flicked around under the front of the car. At some point over the day, these bits of high velocity rubber had totally decimated our head light connections, literally ripping the wires from the sockets.
Anyway, we sandwiched myself and Craig between the two support cars and made the 20km trip to safety without a hitch.
The following morning was bright and clear as we rolled out of the B&B garage and readied ourselves for the trip homeward. We paused for a while to allow photo opportunities with the excited B&B owner then gently slipped out of PE, it was early Sunday morning early after all.
Once on the national highway we slotted back into "going home" mode and upped the noise level somewhat. Both cars still had fuel from race day and we figured we should get to Storms River again. We did, but only just. I was on about 8%, but Craig had been experimenting with all manner of new "economical" driving techniques to make the stop. We filled the cars amidst the usual gathering crowd and headed out again. Or aim was to see if we could make it all the way back to Cape Town on one tank. A distance of over 500km. This was going to be interesting.
By now it was warming up nicely, a pleasant change from the trip down. Or at least that's what I thought at the time. By Knysna it was getting down right hot and trundling through the town, as one has too, did not help. Of course I have the added benefit of a large radiator out front near my feet. Great feature in the cold winter mornings, not so much on a hot summers day.
We finally stopped in Sedgefield and I oozed out of my car and stood dripping in the shade for a while. My body hugging carbon fibre seats might be very comfortable, but they have absolutely no ventilation what so ever. Making matters a little worse is that you need to wear clothes more suited to winter in the Alps while driving. Protection from wind, sun and general flying objects is important. A hemet, thick jacket and long pants are a must on a long trip such as this. I was hot. And I was now just a little wet too. A nice warm wind was blowing so I stood like a scarecrow in a poppy field for a while drying out. The usual crowd gathered, this time including some mechanical engineering students on their way back to Stellenbosch university. We had a good chat with them.
Once we had dried out a bit we set off again. Time passed quickly and traffic was light with most drivers pulling over allowing us to pass when we came up behind. While we did appreciate the gesture, it made the drive a little dull. I think I might have changed gear once or maybe twice between Sedgefield and Albertinia. Thereafter some roadworks and the diminished passing opportunities added a bit of interest to proceedings. Time passed even faster as the two Harpers mimicked that classic scene from the Gumball Rally movie, popping out in sequence to overtake cars when gaps presented themselves.
We called a halt again at Swellendam where we stopped for a ritual dry out and to sample the much touted Roosterkoek from the area. The Roosterkoek is a particularly South African thing and consists of a ball of dough cooked over an open fire then stuffed with curried mince. They can be a little greasy, but I remember them well as a kid, being fed them often at the school hostel. Needless to say, not really politically correct these days given the trend towards healthy eating and all, but if your cholesterol can handle the shock they are well worth a try.
We were now on the home stretch. Swellendam is around 250km from Cape Town and the road is wide and clear all the way. The fuel situation was looking good, but time would tell as neither of us had particularly accurate gauges. We played tag and did a few more Gumball Rally impressions before deciding discretion would be better than having to call a friend for fuel and ducked into Grabouw for a quick splash and dash. Here I met Sidney who wanted me to take his picture with the car and post it on Facebook. Well Sidney, its not quite Facebook, but here you go.
As they say in the classics, all good things come to and end. I pulled into my garage at home just short of nine hours after leaving PE. The drive had been hot, but enjoyable and I was a little sad it was all over. The next day I would be back at my desk tapping away at my keyboard literally a world apart.
I suppose its why we do these seemingly crazy things. You are, after all, defined by your experiences in life.
Would I do it again? In a heart beat. The Type 6 might be a race focused car, but it can easily hold its own on the open road and, luggage space aside - there is none - its a very comfortable drive.
How many folks can say they drove 800km, raced over 300km, won their class, then drove the same car 800km home again. And could still walk the next day.
Not many I would say, not many at all.
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For some exciting race footage, check out the link below from Craig. It's an edited video of the 90min race with some close, exciting racing. These guys were clearly in sprint race mode and not enduro mode!
The race was progressing well. There was no sign of any challenge from behind, however, I could just not make any impression on Steve up front. Steve was racing in Class D with us for the day so was essentially the front of the race for me. Then, rounding the hairpin on the last lap I noticed bits of bodywork strewn across the corner. Slightly further along and parked up in the run off area was Steve and a Porsche. It looked like he had tried to cut inside the Porsche on the corner, but come off second best in the altercation. Oddly, he was driving the self same Lotus that had clouted me in turn 2 at Killarney some time back. It was once again missing the right front wheel. There was going to be some interesting phone calls later when Steve explained things to Martin who owned the Lotus. Steve was still classified as the winner in Class D with me coming second. However, I had completed one more lap than him, something that would stand me in good stead later. Sadly Ant had stripped his clutch in the early stages of the race and had also called things quits. One fellow who was slapping everyone silly in his class was Carl, up from East London. Carl drives a stock standard Birkin Lotus 7 fitted with a stock standard black top 20 valve Toyota motor. Carl was lapping in the mid to low 10's. Now there's a fellow who can seriously pedal a race car!
Both Gary and Bruce were racing in a different class to us so I went off to watch Gary doing his thing in the BMW. He was having a fearsome battle with some modified Golf Mk1s and they provided a great spectacle.
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| A Golf sandwich with BMW filling |
This ended our sprint races for the day and saw me taking first over all in Class D. It was a close call though, but served to prove the old Rick Mears adage that "to finish first you first need to finish".
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| The support crew hanging around, something you do lots of during a busy race meet |
The race started without incident and I tried to settle down into a rhythm. Bruce had also entered his Lotus in this event and it was being piloted by the ever skilful Carl for the first stint. He had started behind me on the grid, but was all over the back of my car. I now had a bit of a conundrum. If I let him pass around the back of the track I would need to pass him again on the straight to maintain my lap times. This would likely repeat itself every lap and slow us both down, not to mention irritate the socks off Carl. I did the next best thing that came to mind. I put in a couple of hot laps to create a gap between us. I knew he was only driving for the first 30 minutes so did not need to much of a gap. Perfect plan I thought and bolted off in to the distance. Three laps later I was reflecting on my adequate cushion when the stupidity of my plan sunk in. The index of performance is a simple system. They take your fastest lap, multiply it by the number of laps you do and then compare this theoretical time to your actual time as a percentage. Anything over 95% means you have driven very consistently. I had just put in three fast, but entirely unsustainable, laps and effectively doomed my index of performance chances. Ah well, I was still having fun and could now rather concentrate on getting my lines right and really getting grooved into the car.
Thereafter time passed quickly. I was lapped by strings of sliding Porsches who seemed to be treating the race as a sprint and was intrigued by the new skid marks on the track virtually every lap. After a while the Porsches seemed to get less. The enduro is a little surreal as a race. After a couple of laps you are essentially all alone on the track, however, every now and then you will either catch somebody or be lapped by somebody. Within seconds though you are all alone again. The 30 minutes to go board appeared and I pulled in for my fuel stop. This all went off without a hitch and soon I was out lapping again. It was hard work, hard on the body and certainly hard on the cars. Close to the end of the race I was briefly passed by Alan's silver Harper only to have it pull off in front of me, a victim of over heating.
Eventually the chequered flag fell and I rumbled into the pits a happy, albeit rather sweaty, driver. Turns out only seven cars finished the event and I was really happy to see my old Lotus pull in behind me. Two of the three Harpers had run flawlessly with Craig taking fourth over all and third on index while I took sixth over all and somewhere further down on index.
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| The remaining three mobile Harpers parked up in the gathering gloom |
It was now getting dark so we packed the cars, parked them up near the club house and went in for prize giving. This was a jovial and somewhat smokey affair, full of banter and camaraderie borne of competitiveness. We bid farewell to the folks there and headed back to the B&B. This proved to be quite an interesting trip. It was now fully dark and we discovered that I only had one working head light and Craig had none. Strips of rubber off the race tyres had been picked up by our tyres and flicked around under the front of the car. At some point over the day, these bits of high velocity rubber had totally decimated our head light connections, literally ripping the wires from the sockets.
Anyway, we sandwiched myself and Craig between the two support cars and made the 20km trip to safety without a hitch.
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| The Beast, caged for the night, at the B&B |
Once on the national highway we slotted back into "going home" mode and upped the noise level somewhat. Both cars still had fuel from race day and we figured we should get to Storms River again. We did, but only just. I was on about 8%, but Craig had been experimenting with all manner of new "economical" driving techniques to make the stop. We filled the cars amidst the usual gathering crowd and headed out again. Or aim was to see if we could make it all the way back to Cape Town on one tank. A distance of over 500km. This was going to be interesting.
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| Storms River with two models posing with the car |
We finally stopped in Sedgefield and I oozed out of my car and stood dripping in the shade for a while. My body hugging carbon fibre seats might be very comfortable, but they have absolutely no ventilation what so ever. Making matters a little worse is that you need to wear clothes more suited to winter in the Alps while driving. Protection from wind, sun and general flying objects is important. A hemet, thick jacket and long pants are a must on a long trip such as this. I was hot. And I was now just a little wet too. A nice warm wind was blowing so I stood like a scarecrow in a poppy field for a while drying out. The usual crowd gathered, this time including some mechanical engineering students on their way back to Stellenbosch university. We had a good chat with them.
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| Sedgefield, drying in the shade |
We called a halt again at Swellendam where we stopped for a ritual dry out and to sample the much touted Roosterkoek from the area. The Roosterkoek is a particularly South African thing and consists of a ball of dough cooked over an open fire then stuffed with curried mince. They can be a little greasy, but I remember them well as a kid, being fed them often at the school hostel. Needless to say, not really politically correct these days given the trend towards healthy eating and all, but if your cholesterol can handle the shock they are well worth a try.
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| Craig, updating his Facebook page prior to stressing his arteries with the local cuisine |
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| Roosterkoek. Ours looked a little different, but tasted good |
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| Sidney posing on Craig's car |
I suppose its why we do these seemingly crazy things. You are, after all, defined by your experiences in life.
Would I do it again? In a heart beat. The Type 6 might be a race focused car, but it can easily hold its own on the open road and, luggage space aside - there is none - its a very comfortable drive.
How many folks can say they drove 800km, raced over 300km, won their class, then drove the same car 800km home again. And could still walk the next day.
Not many I would say, not many at all.
-------------------
For some exciting race footage, check out the link below from Craig. It's an edited video of the 90min race with some close, exciting racing. These guys were clearly in sprint race mode and not enduro mode!
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