Half mast

It was a rare morning. The birds were out singing instead of draining their wellies. The sun was up and the day was warming. This made a nice change from the previous four race meetings. I relished the concept of driving to the track in a cap and sun glasses instead of a full face helmet and oil skins. Summer was finally making a long awaited return and with it came the kind of weather our open top sports car were made for. 

We were racing late, with the program putting qualifying at 9:45, race one at 1pm and race two at 5pm. This posed a bit of a challenge for me as I was attending the Louis Giglio Passion concert back in the City and needed to be there around 6pm. It was a quick decision, I decided to skip the second race of the day. This meant I would have to pack all my day's racing fun into qualifying and the first race. 

Getting cozy with the outer reaches of turn 3
Photo courtesy of Dieter Dolinsheck 

We were also a little down on numbers in Harper World with Craig doing some changes to his car following fuelling problems uncovered in PE, Alan still down after overheating his car in PE and Haydn opting out for the day. This left just myself and Ant to fly the Harper flag. Ant had destroyed his clutch in PE and had only just managed to finish the repairs to his car in time. He now boasted a heavy duty clutch and was rearing to go as always. Class D was going to be contended by myself, the ever faithful Hennie in the super quick Lotus 7 and occasional entrant William Carter in his LS1 powered red Porsche 944. We were also being joined by the stunning Audi R8 replica built by Paul Beachy Head. This twin turbo Audi V8 powered monster should really be much closer to the sharp end of the racing, but reliability issues have kept Paul in our play pen. We were happy to have him as it is always a pleasure to race with a beautiful car. I fear once he sorts out all the niggles we will scarcely see his flaming tailpipes as he disappears into the distance.

Since the start was late, my Saturday morning was fairly leisurely. I eventually packed all my clobber into the car around 8am and headed to the track. Traffic was predictably light for that time of the morning in Cape Town and the drive was stunning. I pulled into my pit and was delighted to see Paul and his grand 5.7l GT40 back again. He had last raced in June and was itching to stretch the legs of his stunning machine.

Ant was already in attendance and we headed off to scrutineer and complete the paperwork for the day. When we returned we saw Craig and Roger had arrived to spectate, effectively doubling the number of Harpers in the pit. It was a pity they were not racing, but Roger still has a few official hoops to jump through before he got his race license. Hopefully he will be joining us for the next race. We chatted cars for a while and then headed to the coffee barrow for a morning caffeine fix before qualifying. 

Finally our session was called and we lined up in the holding area according to our usual "gentlemen's agreement" of fast cars first. However, as the cars ahead of us started pulling out a Porsche near the front stalled and battled to get going again. Eventually he was push started and blasted off out the pit lane. This whole process probably only took 45 seconds or so, but would turn out to have a significant impact on the qualifying session. 

I had not ventured out in the car since our epic trip back from PE so started a little gingerly, getting to grips with the car, cold tyres and a circuit I had last driven on some months earlier. I was still busy warming up my tyres when I almost clipped Steve as he shot past in his Mallock. Owing to the delay in the pits with the recalcitrant Porsche we were now already being lapped by the couple of fast cars that had managed to get away. I was following Paul in the GT40 when, going into turn 1, he had the mother of all front lockups and produced a smoke screen more suited to maritime warfare than track racing. While I was marvelling at the spectacle, the Juno, piloted by Francis, skipped past me and speared into the cloud of smoke. Some folk are pretty brave. While this was all very exciting, it did not bode well for a good qualifying time. However, by lap two I was ready to haul the old hammer out and, coming onto the back straight, I focused in and started my hot lap.

Thus, it was a source of considerable annoyance when I arrived at turn 1 seconds later to find it festooned by yellow flags and two stricken cars. Steve had clearly caught Arno unawares as well and the two had come together in the corner. This unfortunate event lead to the session being red flagged with me completing a whole three laps and clocking a paltry 1:32 qualifying time. Thankfully most folks suffered the same effect, but the eventual grid order had me bone last in Class D. Given I was only contesting the one race for the day and was currently leading the Class D battle, I had it all to do. Nothing short of a class win would keep me in the running with a scant two outings left for the year. This was clearly something that could only be tackled after the ritual egg and bacon roll, so we all wandered off to the club house to pass the time and harden our arteries.

Time passed swiftly as we watched the Clubmans and Fine Cars ply their respective wares around the circuit. Clubmans was an especially entertaining race with a mix of super fast BMW's up front and a very competitive clutch of VW Golfs making up big chunk of the remaining field. If you want real close, hair of the teeth style racing it would seem you need to be driving a Golf. How these guys don't roll their cars into little balls more often can only be a testimony to their skill.

Then it was our turn to try and excite the crowds. Our end of the field, otherwise known as the back, was a collection of Class C and Class D machinery. I had William in the red 944 next to Ant ahead of me and Paul in the very large black GT40 next to me. Hennie and the other Paul in the R8 were a little way further up ahead of Ant and William. As we rounded turn 5 and headed onto the main straight for the rolling start I was determined not to miss any opportunity that might present itself. I glued myself to the back of the red 944 and gently squeezed the GT40 out of turn 1. A slight fly in the proverbial ointment was Cyril in his GT3. Cyril had failed to qualify and, as are the rules, had to start behind the last car in his class. He was in Class C which meant he was behind Paul's GT40, and thus, behind me. He's usually a lot quicker than us so started making his way through the "traffic". I considered making him work for his position, but then decided to rather let him go and focus on the rest of the Class D folk.   He was not as quick in passing as I hoped and my decision lost me a fair bit of time as I left him space. Eventually, coming out of turn 4 he slipped past on the inside and ambled off up the back straight. I set my sights on the the 944 which had by this time built up a decent gap. My V8 urge ensured that by the end of the back straight I had caught up to both Porsches as Cyril tried in vain to pass the 944 into turn 5.

Entering the main straight William pulled left to let Cyril pass and I caught a whiff of blood. I tucked in on Cyril's line and kept William on the left. This posed a problem for him as he was now off the racing line and he proved this by locking up his fronts going into turn 1. We rounded turn 1 very close and he exited slightly ahead to the left. I take turn 1 in fourth gear which means I don't have to change gears again until I hit the back straight, such is the torque of the V8. William clearly does not have the same mixture of torque and gear ratios and I watched his car pause briefly as he snatched another gear. It was all I needed as I stormed past hard on the throttle. Next up was Ant who was some way ahead, not really Class D, but always fun to dice with. There were still two Class D cars ahead as well, but races are done one position at a time. I was chipping away at Ant's lead when going into turn 5 we caught and passed Hennie with ease. He actually waved us past. Score on my side, but sad that he was out. We would later discover he had broken his gear shift. 

Duking it out with Ant in turn 3
Photo courtesy of Dieter Dolinsheck

By now I was right behind Ant and, coming out of turn 5, he expertly squeezed me towards the pit wall as he took the racing line. I was expecting this so ducked left and unwrapped a fresh bag of torque. Turbo or not, there is no substitute for cubic inches. I scampered past and retook the racing line for turn 1. Things got a little hairy then as I was going a little quicker than usual. There was a whole lot of teenage style backchat from the rear of the car, but I managed to grimly hang on and made it around the corner still pointing forward. A happy by product of my wobbly rear end was that Ant decided to give me a little room in case things got out of hand and we ended up as a Harper T-bone. I knew I was now in for a titanic battle since Ant is not one to take a pass lying down. My mirrors were full of orange and blue, but sadly, as we slithered through turn 4 Ant suddenly shrunk into the distance, the unfortunate victim of a misfire.  

As the excitement died down I realised that I had only one Class D car ahead of me. It was Paul in the R8 and I could see him in the distance. It was game time so I lowered the cross hairs once more. It turned out not to be necessary since I quickly caught him and he waved me past in turn 5 suffering again from some mechanical niggle. 

In the end, what had appeared to be a daunting task, had been fairly easy and through no skill of my own. Mechanicals had stripped the front of Class D leaving me the class winner of the first heat. A bit disappointing as I was hoping to have more of a fight, but a result is a result at the end of the day and I took it with both hands.

Thus ended my days racing, so I packed my goodies into the car, bid the folks farewell and headed home.

It was, however, not the end of the drama for the day. I was not there to see things unfold, but during the second race Paul's GT40 developed a fuel leak. In discussions afterwards he said the car had seemed down on power on the back straight and he had decided to pull into the pits to check things out. Sadly as he slowed into the pit lane the rear of the car burst into flames. He managed to unclip and roll out in time, but the car was practically destroyed before his eyes. 

Remains of a once magnificent GT40

This was indeed a chilling reminder of how dangerous this sport of ours can be. Thankfully Paul was unharmed and I am happy to report that he will be rebuilding his fine beast.

Still, it gave many a moment of pause and thought. Adrenalin sports definitely give you that feeling of being "alive", but its good to be reminded every now and then that, just like a tame lion can live for ages with it's trainer only to one day snack him for lunch, so too your sport needs to be treated with the respect it deserves.