A moss covered stone

It's true. A rolling stone does indeed gather no moss. Unfortunately, for the last couple of months I have been a rather stationary stone. Consequently I am covered in moss. This was proved rather embarrassingly a few weeks back when I rolled out onto the track again for the first time since my moss gathering began. 

Ok, so I do have an excuse. All racing drivers, however wannabe they are, have excuses. But, seriously, mine are good. You see, I decided to make some changes to the car. Most folk do this over the Christmas period, when there is lots of time to get everything done. Me, I decided to do it mid season. And not just a small change or two. No, a complete change of the wheels, hubs, brakes, pedal box and clutch. Of course, all for good reason.

The structure for the new top mounted pedals. Much stiffer than before!

Thing is, it always takes longer to finish than you think, especially when you are making significant changes that require aftermarket parts to be matched to an existing system. Anyway, subject to Craig's considerable skill and dedication, the niggles where all eventually sorted out and the car was ready. At this exact point I decided to go overseas on holiday with the family. So, by the time I finally drove out of pit lane, some three months later, and the Saturday before race day, I could hardly remember which way the track went, let alone how to drive my car.

Thankfully, the brain does appear to have some sort of muscle memory and within a couple of laps things started to come together. Now, the main reason for doing all these changes was, obviously, to make the car go faster. At this point in the practise session things were not looking good. I was barely managing to break 30's let along storm in the 23's as I  had been hoping. It was time for an egg and bacon roll and some expectation reassessment.

The second practise session yielded somewhat better results as I realised the car had much more grip than before (due to the wider tyres) and much better brakes. It was now a matter of finding the limits, without crashing into something hard, all the while adjusting the brake markers. By the end of the session I was back to lapping around 25's. Not stellar, but at least back to where I was before. It was only during the third, and last, practise session that I started to realise the car handled quite a bit differently. We had upsized the front tyres from 195's to 225's. Consequently, the car had a lot more grip on turn in. I had been driving as before, balancing cornering for the slight understeer I knew the car had. I was rather euphoric  about my massive discovery, so much so that I promptly spun going into turn 3. It was a neat spin though, the marshal hardly had a chance to bring out the yellow flag, before I had completed my unscheduled 360 and was scampering down the track again, a little less euphoric. I managed to sneak in a high 24 during this session, but was now painfully aware of the fact that the car was very different to what it had been, and I would essentially have to learn it all over again. This moss was proving to be rather sticky stuff.

Thus rolled on race day. It was a long weekend so numbers were a little down. I figured this was a good thing since it would mean less things for me to hit. I arrived nice and early and parked up next to Paul and his GT40. Paul was eventually back after his fire induced rebuild, but was having all sorts of small issues so was not expecting to do that well. The car, I must admit, looks awesome. It now sports a much racier look, with low front defuser and aggressive rear arches over its massive slicks. As always it sounds as good as it looks. The GT40 really is one of my all time favourite cars.

The Harper contingent was made up of myself and Alan in his turbo powered, slick shod rocket. Thankfully he was way up near the top of Class C. Craig, who was still rebuilding his car and Ant, who was running his new engine in, came to watch with Ant promising to be back for the next race day. Class D was therefore only four cars, myself, Cyril in his new GT3, Rob in his neat Lotus 7 and Nic, also in his Lotus 7. Nic had always been down in Class E and was seldom a concern for me. Clearly Nic has no issues with moss attachment as he seems to have found an indecent turn of speed with his little Lotus.

Qualifying was called and I again applied my, so far, fairly effective strategy of going out mid field. I had five clear laps and managed to notch up the fastest qualifying time for Class D. I was not all that elated, since it was only a rather yawing 26. Most of the others in Class D had run into traffic issues. Still I was on pole, so to speak.

Not that it lasted all that long. As a matter of fact, by turn three of the first race I had been taken by Cyril and had Nic dangerously close behind me. Still, I was not concerned and set off after the GT3. A brief glance in the mirror down the back straight confirmed my thoughts as Nic receded behind me. I set about the rear of the Porsche, but he was too quick down the  straights. Passing would have to be a corner manoeuvre. At the end of the front straight I gave a cautionary glance in the mirrors just in case there was something there and almost missed my brake marker. My mirror was full of Nic and his 7. There was no time to figure out how he had overcome my massive torque advantage and ended up glued to my rear, it was now all about staying ahead. And so the race progressed. I tried to badger the rear of Cyril's Porsche as best I could while trying to fend off the increasing insistent Nic. By the time the chequered flag fell I was panting like a rabid dog, but had managed to hang on to second. Predictably, lap times were not spectacular, as they seldom are when you are covering lines all over the place, but it had been a great dice and that, after all, was why we were doing this.

A post race investigation revealed Nic had only added slicks to his Lotus, the rest all coming from his rapidly improving race craft. The family duly arrived for lunch and we headed to the clubhouse for a break and catch up with the other drivers.

A couple of hours later we were back and lined up for race two. I had surprisingly drawn pole in Class D for this race so was up front again. I was determined to make the Harper as wide as possible and keep both the Porsche and Nic behind me from the start. Alas, it was not to be. While I was on pole for Class D, I was also behind Class C and on my side of the grid this meant I was behind Paul and his GT40. Paul had been struggling with handling issues the whole day and was being ever so ginger into corners. At the start, the lights went out and we stormed to turn 1. I was on the inside of the corner and ended up boxed in by the GT40 up front and a string of cars passing me from behind. By the time I exited the corner I was stone last. Things can happen fast during a race. I quickly dispatched the GT40 into turn 2 and set off after the rest of the field. After a lap or two I managed to catch and pass Rob in his Lotus and slowly reeled Nic in. I was much quicker than him on the straights, but he out braked and out handled me on the back side of the circuit. Eventually after around six laps I was about ready to deal with him. The plan was simple, I would catch him down the back straight, brake as late as possible into turn 5, then overpower him down the front straight and make the car nice and wide going into turn 1. Easy stuff, now just to execute. 

Everything went exactly according to plan until turn 5. I braked late, turned in using my, now much improved, front grip and promptly lost control of the rear. You see, while the wider front had eliminated the slight understeer characteristics of the car, it had somewhat exaggerated the tendency to oversteer. And with a 60/40 weight split, once the rear let go, you needed to be a much better driver than me to catch things. Half way around the spin I did at least have the presence of mind to hit the clutch and keep the engine running. The car skidded to a halt backwards off the outer edge of turn 5, the shower of gravel bouncing musically off the back of my helmet. Through the dust I could see Rob sprint past. I cursed a bit and got the car going again, bolting off down the straight only to be met at the end by a marshal furiously waving the "change in surface" flag. I could actually see the oil on the outside of the straight, right about where the brake markers started. The thought did flash through my mind as to what would have happened had my plan succeeded. If it had, Nic and I would have been side by side at that point and one of us would have possibly ended up smeared across the barrier wall way past the turn 1 run off. We do over 200km/h at the end of the main straight.

After that, the race deteriorated into more of a cruise as turn 2 showed similar oil slick problems. Finally, after another lap, the race was red flagged and we headed back to the pits. The oil presented a bit of a conundrum for the marshals since none of the cars had shown any signs of massive engine failure usually associated with this amount of oil on the track. To mimic the Exxon Valdez you really had to spectacularly destroy your engine or gearbox, both events producing smoke clouds that would make a small WW2 tank proud. But, no smoke there was, which is why the marshals took a bit of time to notice the oil. Thankfully, it was with enough time to alert most drivers. The slick rendered turn 1 unusable and hence the race was stopped.

At the end of the day I managed to snatch a third over all, so was fairly pleased with the proceedings. I had at least managed to provide some entertainment for the crowd as well as Nic. More to the point though, while the actual race lap times were nothing special, my nifty lap timer proudly presented theoretical 23's for both races.

All I have to do now is string a couple of good sectors together per lap and I should be near the top of Class D again. That is, of course, assuming I can keep the car pointing forward! In the meantime I'm off to find some industrial strength moss remover.

-xxx-

For those who want a good chuckle, check out my parking manoeuvre in turn 5 here. 

The full races can be viewed here for race 1 and here for race 2.

A cat in a bag

The cat is out of the bag. It's an odd saying really, and always confused me as a youth until I put it to the test with our trusty, and mostly laid back, family cat. Actually getting the cat into the bag is not a problem as they are naturally curious creatures. They are also fantastically suspicious, especially around the motives of a ten year old with a sack. The furious feline exited the "bag" as a hissing bundle of fur and claws leaving me somewhat bloodied and in no doubt that the cat had left the bag, and would not be entertaining any future bag activities.

I suppose that's more what it's about. Once the cat is out, it's not going back. As it is with certain changes that are going to be taking place with my Type 6 over the course of this season.

A photo appeared on Facebook a little while back depicting some engine parts, one of which was the unmistakable shape of a large turbocharger. Craig then ran a little post on the Harper Sports Cars web site around some upgrades heading the Type 6 way. 

Go faster goodies slowly coming together

The activity drew a couple of comments, but nothing too compelling. However, during the race meeting this past weekend I was accosted by quite a number of drivers around the plans for my Type 6. More specifically they were all Class C drivers and wanted to know what power and torque figures we had in mind. Competition is a good thing, and it's always good to know as much about the competition as one can. While I appreciated the fact that they thought I might be able to compete in their class at some point, I was under no illusions that trying to harness the Type 6 when it sported twice the power output would be a job my limited skill might not accomplish all that well.

Still, you can't get better by staying the same and I tend to throw more power at the going faster problem. Probably not the best way to solve the issue, but it does make for some fun times.

However, I am not oblivious to the fact that making a car go faster has a number of side effects, the greatest of which is that, well, you end up going faster. This is all good and well, but it means at some point you have to slow down again. Upgrading the acceleration parts of a race car without looking into the deceleration parts can turn out to be a mistake you only get the chance to make once. So long before any of the go faster goodies come near the car, we are doing some more mundane upgrades. These include larger 17" rims that can take wider semi-slick tyres, but more critically can house much bigger 300mm disks for massive added breaking force. We are also looking at redesigning the pedal arrangement to a top mount direct push system for a more "connected" feel. 

At this point I would like to introduce you to a new word in the english language. It's a word most sporting folk will be familiar with, but seems particularly relevant in the world of motor racing. The word is "cashcade" and describes the knock on effect of making a small change to an otherwise perfectly fine race car. Thus, to get the new 17" rims to fit means we have to swap from four bolt hubs to five bolt hubs since you don't get 17" rims in 4x100 bolt pattern. Thankfully Toyota have an off the shelf five bolt hub. Then once the hubs are replaced, the rear shocks need to move inward a bit to clear the inside of the rim. The front end does not escape either, since the, now larger, front wheel not only fouls the body work, but also come in contact with the headlights.

A box of Toyota five bolt hubs for the three Type 6's

"Spats" adding to the new brutish look of the Type 6's

Then, finally, the callipers also need to change from the rather lumpy RunX units to the similar sized, but lower profile, Corolla RXi units.  A cashcade of truly epic proportions!

New vs Old disks, quite an increase

New front brakes fitted

New rear brakes fitted

Eventually all the changes will stop, at which point, hopefully, so will the car. The final addendum to the Type 6 prior to us doubling the horses is to increase the downforce. This will allow us to make more effective use of the bigger brakes and tyres. A rear wing and front splitter is on the cards at some point. Of course, by this point the entire season might be over, or the little bits of paper fuelling the cashcade may be depleted. Time will tell which comes first.

Then, just to add to the whole effect, we are fitting a new clutch. There is a good reason for this however. A while ago my third gear synchro decided it had had enough of this track racing nonsense and went from synchromesh to just mesh. Luckily I use a standard off the shelf Audi gearbox and quickly sourced a new used one off Gumtree. However, once we came to fit the box, we discovered the source of my persistent pull off shudder. The clutch plate was basically spring-less and about to become spline-less as well. With three days 'til race day there was no time to faff about getting it rebuilt so a standard off the shelf Audi unit was quickly dropped in. The clutch felt fantastic and the race meeting went off without a hitch, although in hindsight, I might have felt a bit of slippage near the end of the second race. The following weekend was a open track day and we decided to make a bit of a day out of it. I was planning to take the kiddies for a joyride and Leigh was going to venture out in the car for only the second time. We were all poised for some fast fun when, coming down the back straight as I shifted into fifth, there was a muted bang at the rear and the car lost all forward urge. Thankfully I had enough momentum to coast around and into the pits. This put a rather immediate stop to our days planned activities and the car was duly dispatch to the doctor for analysis. 

The results, I suppose, were somewhat expected given the ask we had placed on the little off the shelf clutch plate.

Manufacturers specs somewhat exceeded

I had always been a little concerned about my clutch and, frankly, am quite surprised it has lasted a whole season. However, there was absolutely no chance the current setup would manage with any increase in power. Something better will be needed. 

After some ernest searching, conventional wisdom was that we needed to fit a more racing biased unit instead of the standard road unit we had. A little later we had procured an ex Nascar twin plate Quartermaster clutch from the fine folk at G&A Promotions. 

Then the cashcade effect once again set in and we finally ended up with a whole new flywheel and clutch assembly. 

New twin plate vs old single

On the upside, the whole assembly has gone from a somewhat hefty 15kg, down to a flyweight 7kg. This should really help the engine spin up!

By the time everything is back together again I'll pretty much have a totally different car and should, once again, be following my trend from last year by pitching up on race day with a whole bunch of new bits. Qualifying will be more fun than usual I suspect.

So what about the actual race day just gone past, you might ask? Well it turned out to be a great day of racing. The weather was fine and slightly overcast making for a cool day. I had a great battle with some Class D guys, notably Hennie in his 'vette, while sadly the other Hennie shortened the front of his Lotus 7 by slamming it into the back of Martin's 7. The two had been furiously dicing and exited Turn 4 literally nose to tail. Unfortunately, as Hennie pulled out to pass Martin, Martin missed a gear. With Hennie accelerating to pass, and Martin not accelerating any more, the two came in contact, forcing both to retire for the day. 

In race two I once again showed my lack of race craft while trying to overtake the Corvette, finally getting the job done after far too many laps. I then, surprisingly, managed to catch a Porsche GT3RS and, even more surprisingly, managed to pass him in Turn 1 while we were tangled up with the three leading Class A cars.

The day ended with a Class D win for me, and a rather nagging feeling that I should be leaving well enough alone. Ant had just fitted an aftermarket ECU to his car and had tuned things up to a nice 200kw. It did not last long, with him melting his pistons not far into the race. 

Maybe that large turbo is not such a good idea after all. But then, I fear the lure of 400kw might turn out to be just too strong to resist.

------------

You can catch some of the action, and watch my misguided attempts to pass Hennie, in the footage from race 2 here. Keep an eye out for the corner action around lap 6 when myself and the GT3 are both passed by three class A cars between the entry and exit of Turn 1.

Stripes

It is a well-known fact in the go-faster community that putting stripes on your car makes it go faster. I mean, take a look at the evidence. Buy a normal Ferrari F360 and its pretty quick, but when you want to go racing you need a Stradale - which has stripes. This fact was even known back in the sixties. Carroll Shelby knew about it. When he built his Daytona to beat Enzo Ferrari's 250GTO he knew it had to have stripes to stand a chance, so stripes it had. And it of course beat the 250.

So it should have come at no surprise to me that once I put stripes on my car it would go faster.

Most folk use the Christmas break from racing to fettle with their cars. Some change cars completely, as seems to be the manner with the Porsche contingent. Others change engines, upgrade suspension, removed weight or generally try to do things to their cars that will make them faster. Of course this often means they actually go slower as they now have to re-learn their car, but eventually they do go faster.

My car had been so reliable during the last season that I was a little reticent to fiddle with anything. I knew the car was still much faster than I was, so the fettling actually needed to be done on the driver more than the car. Still, it is almost considered bad form to pitch up on the first race day of the season with exactly the same car as last year. What are you going to chat to your fellow drivers about if you do that?

Then I discovered the secret of stripes. A brief googling confirmed that pretty much all sports car manufacturers that produced a go faster version of their standard car had a version with stripes. That was it then, I simply needed stripes. Since my car was vinyl wrapped and not painted, adding stripes was ridiculously easy. I contacted the "vinyl man" who came around to the house one afternoon and literally an hour later I had stripes on my car. Of course, one cannot simply add a bunch of stripes across the top of the car, everyone does that! Striping is an individual thing. Luckily the Harper body has a number of "angles" that lend themselves quite nicely to striping.

My car created quite a stir when I arrived at the track, bright and early on race day.

Showing off the new stripes - Photo courtesy of Dieter

Qualifying was a rather early 8:30, but the day was warm and bright. The preceding week had seen some furious testing on the track, as last minute changes were tested by all manner of cars and drivers. Thus, I was expecting the track to be nice and grippy with some fresh rubber having been laid down. I was following my semi successful approach from last year of going out earlier in the pack to get more clear laps. On this occasion I ended up around sixth in line. Lap one was just to get a feel for things again. By lap two I could feel the track was nice and grippy so coming into lap three I gave it beans. The stripes clearly were working as the lap timer proudly presented a 1:24 lap time. I was well chuffed with that, so as soon as the faster cars started to appear, I pulled in to the pits. I had managed five laps, two of which had been sub 1:25's. Things were looking good for the day. I was especially pleased, as I still had my last season's tyres fitted which were starting to show serious signs of the last years abuse. Why, you may ask, did I have a well used set of tyres fitted. Well, that will all become clear in the next blog entry. There is some scheming afoot, is about all I can say.

Anyway, my stripe induced lap time put me firmly at the front of Class D for the first race. Now, Class D had been somewhat depleted towards the end of the year, with the last couple of races only managing to produce two or three cars in D. Today was a little different, as no less than five cars lined up, and that was with two usual drivers, Hennie and Craig, being absent. Craig, it should be noted, is on the hunt for two extra seconds as he totally rebuilds his car for this season. We had some new folk joining the fray too. There was Robert, in his red and white Lotus 7, who had raced the last race of last year, showing a rather indecent turn of speed, and then new boy Clinton who had not even bothered to spend more than a couple of qualifying laps in Class E before posting a time in his rather well sorted Lotus 7 that punted him somewhere near the top of Class D. I can see this chap is going to be trouble this year.

Jean was also back racing after a two year sabbatical. He had brought his absolutely stunning Nardini, all painted in Ford Focus orange. Paul, of the burning GT40, was also present, but without his car, and promised to have his Grand Dame together for the next race. 

A side view of my stripes and Jean's Nardini next door

Race 1 was eventually called and we all lined up for the rolling start. True to my adage of starting slowly I managed to allow Alan's turbo charged Type 5 and the R8 past in Turn 3, but, more to the point, Martin also snuck past going into Turn 2. This would not do. This was the battle for Class D leadership. I set about making the stripes work for their living. On the second lap I had managed to reel Martin in and I took him going down the back straight. Ahead now was the Class C R8, so I set my sights on catching him. This was all going rather well until I thundered into Turn 1 on the third lap. A small black object lying on the track caught my eye just as I hit the brake marker. There was no chance of swerving at this point since I had the small issue of dumping around 100km/h in the space of 50 odd metres. I only just missed the object with the right front tyre, but the back right hopped up over it. Since the car was under heavy braking at this point it did a nice little side waltz kind of motion and shot from the right to the left of the track in the space of a couple metres. Thankfully nobody was trying to out brake me on the left, else two would have become one. I was convinced I had punctured a tyre, so backed off completely with the intent of circulating back to the pits. However, half way around the track, and once everyone had passed me, the car was feeling fine. I decided to pull in anyway and ask the marshals to check my tyres. I now have an inkling of what it must be like to be handed a drive through penalty. The pit exit marshal checked my tyres and declared them all still inflated, waving me back on to the track just ahead of Louis in his Lola. 

I was now a little annoyed.

The hard work my stripes had done earlier in the morning had been dashed by some small car part dropped on the track by another car. There was nothing to do, but to put my head down and chase whatever I could find, with serious intent. I let Louis past in Turn 2 and decided to use him as a rabbit. Louis normally laps around 1:22 so I had little hope of keeping up with him, but the incentive was there. What followed was a brace of 1:24 laps as I  wrestled and flung the car around the track by the scruff of its neck. Eventually, on the final lap, I caught up with Cyril in his Chevy powered Porsche 944 and took him on the back straight. Great, now I was at least not stone last!

The race duly ended with me bringing up the rear in Class D, but having posted the fastest Class D time. Ah, the irony of racing. Back in the pits we gave the car a good going over, but no apparent damage was found, so we called lunch and headed to the club house for some much needed refreshments. 

Now, our standard procedure for the second race grid positions, is to draw lots from a bag of numbered blocks. We do this during the drivers briefing in the morning and I had drawn number 6. Considering there were only five cars in Class D for the day, and adding to that, my position in the first race, my location at the rear of the grid was pretty much cemented. I would have to do it all in Race 2 if I was to have any hope of kicking off a good season of points for the year. 

But I was little worried. After all I had stripes!

Race 2 rumbled around and we squared up entering the main straight. I had Robert's Lotus 7  ahead of me and Martin's turbo rotary powered Lotus 7 next door. The lights went out and I floored the throttle, slapping Martin silly with some V8 grunt. I was focused on the rear of Robert's 7 trying not to rear-end him when a thundering black beast slid down the centre of the track and into Turn 1. That would be Hennie in the Corvette then. Hennie was a new comer to Sports & GT's, but by no means a new comer to racing. He had been campaigning his black Corvette in the Fine Cars section, until he was deemed too fast and booted out. He raced a few races with us last year, but his times were firmly in the Class E category. Clearly he had not been sitting around during the Christmas break, and he did not even have stripes! 

The Corvette locked up its rears in the corner, slid slightly and thundered out the other side. I was so mesmerised by the spectacle that I forgot to block the wily Martin who snuck past on the inside again. Bugger that for a joke, I thought, and tried to squeeze Martin out wide on Turn 2. Unfortunately I was not close enough and had to yield. I knew I was faster than him in a straight line, so figured I would just wait until the back straight and dish him up a torque sandwich. This all went according to plan except my race craft, or rather lack thereof, let me down. Instead of retaking the racing line into Turn 5, I stayed wide. Predictably Martin and I exited the corner side by side and he edged ahead onto the straight. I mumbled a few descriptive words and gave chase, trying to take him on the inside of Turn 1. We had started to catch quite a gaggle of cars now and I had to back off owing to the fact that Turn 1 was rather full. No problem, I thought, I just had to repeat the previous lap. Which is what I did, exactly, including the bit about letting Martin through again into Turn 5. I know, the definition of insanity and all that. The mumbling was a little louder this time around. There would not be a third time! Or at least that was the plan. I did a replay of the previous two laps, but this time slammed the door firmly shut in Martins face, almost rear ending Ant's Type 5 in the process. Coming out of Turn 5 I headed towards the pit wall in an attempt to take Ant, but he squeezed me out. I tried to criss cross, but was too late as Martin shot past both of us. My plans for winning Class D were not exactly going according to plan at this point. I tracked Ant around the back of the circuit and took him on the back straight. Ok, now just for Martin. Again! Meanwhile, the rest of the Class D guys were getting further and further ahead. Time was running out.

It was time to toss a little caution into the wind to see what would happen. Martin drifted towards the pit wall on the main straight, taking the racing line into Turn 1. I slipped left and speared into the corner on his inside. I had tried this once before going into Turn 5 and had almost taken Paul's GT40 out as I spun off into the bushes. Thankfully, this time I managed to control the squirming rear end and pulled out of the corner still ahead of Martin. I took the exit line, closing the door on any aspirations he might have and bolted up to Turn 2. I checked my mirrors and knew I had finally subdued the annoyingly fast 7.

Ahead I could now see Robert and the Corvette, so it was chase time. I reeled Robert in slowly, catching him at the end of the back straight, but just not enough to pass. He was awfully quick though Turn 5, but not quick enough, and I oozed past him on the inside down the main straight. 

Two down, two to go. Things were looking up.

There was now the small matter of a 5.7 litre Chevy to contend with. I was later to learn that Hennie had spent the Christmas break stripping an incredible 175kg out of his car. To put that in perspective, it's the same weight as my entire engine! I slowly caught up to the black beast, noticing that it was not that quick through the corners. On the straight, however, we were pretty much level pegged. Into Turn 5, I was on his tail under breaks and my lesser overall weight got me almost past him on the main straight. But not quite. We cornered through Turn 1 side by side, then a rush of blood seemed to infuse Hennie's brain as he waved me past into Turn 2. I suspect he mistook me for the Juno coming up to lap him. Either way, I was very thankful. I suspect the interior of the Corvette was probably a little blue once he realised it was me and not the Juno.

Now there was only Clinton left and he was going to be a major challenge. He had been showing some rather embarrassingly quick times, and as I finished the lap, the timing board announced only two laps left. I figured we were probably lapping within half a second of each other which effectively meant I had no hope of catching him since I could not even see him yet.

I lost a bit more time as the two leading Porsches blitz by and I made a few nooby errors with gear selection. I was beginning to resign myself to second place as there was still no sight of Clinton's 7.

Then I was treated to an entirely different sight coming into Turn 4. The corner was mostly obscured by a fabulous cloud of brown dust. As I entered the corner the dust became thicker. I backed off and strained into the cloud for signs of anything on the track ahead. T-boning somebody in Turn 4 would definitely end in tears. Then I caught a glimpse of a silver 7 slithering to a halt on the grass. The track was clear so I booted the throttle and ploughed through the dust storm. It took a few fractions of a second for my brain to twig that it was actually Clinton who had so effectively pulled a David Copperfield move on Turn 4.

I crossed the line at the top of Class D and well chuffed. It was one of those rare races where I had won by actually catching and passing people instead of mechanicals claiming them. Ok, two places had been handed to me, so it was not all down to my rather mediocre skill. But a win is a win as they say, and his particular one was rather satisfying.

The race 2 win put me third in Class D for the day, which, considering my race 1 performance, I was more than happy with. More to the point though, was the large field of cars around the 1:24 to 1:25 mark. Reviewing the results at the end of the day showed that two Class E drivers, Hennie with his 'Vette and Nick with his Lotus 7, had broken into Class D. Thus, once Hennie (the other Hennie with the Lotus 7) and Craig were back in the fray, there would be nine contenders in Class D. This would make us the most densely populated Class in the entire field.

I suspect some really good, close racing will be on the cards for the next race day. I just hope no one else decides to go put stripes on their car.

Here are some videos of the action. Well, ok, race 1 is a little dull, but race 2 is quite fun.

Sports & GT - Race 1

Sports & GT - Race 2

Season Finale

The folks at Porsche are a bright bunch. A couple of years back they effectively invented a race series call the Porsche SuperCup and then, conveniently, produced a car to race in the series. I suspect the sequence of events was reversed, but either way the series took off all over the world and resulted in the the Porsche Cup cars being the most successful race cars ever produced.

A Porsche Cup car is a formidable piece of kit. Its based on the 997 version of the ageless Porsche 911. It has a 450HP engine, racing suspension, stripped out interior and high tech aero kit. And it's seriously fast, lapping around 1:16's at Killarney. And you can buy then race ready from Porsche.

The Bigfoot boys in their Cup cars

Thus, it was a source of considerable surprise to me when I managed to catch up to one during qualifying for our final race meeting of the season. 

The howling South Easter of the preceding week had died down to a whisper leaving us with  a perfect summers day in Cape Town. Despite the absence of a number of usual drivers, we still had a grid of twenty six cars. Unfortunately, Hennie, my main Class D rival, was away leaving just myself and newcomer, Rob, to play in Class D for the day. Craig was also away, contesting the Bulawayo 3 hour race up in Zimbabwe. You can read about his attempts to restyle his car during the race here. The Harper continent was thus made up of myself, Ant and Steve, so still a fairly good showing for Team Harper. Haydn was also present for the day, now sporting a shiny new Black Top motor in his red Harper, but he had been invited to race with the Fine Cars for the last race of the season.

But back to qualifying. I was again trying my new tactic of going out mid field for qualifying. This had worked well for me last time out, but sadly this time proved to be a bit of a lemon. I managed two clear-ish laps and was just about to get down to action when I caught the Porsche going into Turn 5. He was going so slowly through the corner, for a Porsche that is,  that I fully expected him to pull into the pits. But, no, as soon as the corner straightened, a puff of smoke heralded six injectors dumping av gas into the flat six motor and the Porsche rapidly shrank ahead of me. I was a little bemused, especially when I caught him again in Turn 2. After a lap of this yoyo activity I figured the Porsche was either suffering from some mechanical ailment that in no way impeded its straight line speed, or the driver was new to the car. I realised I would need to pass him if I was to have any hope of a decent qualifying time. This was not to be however, as by now the front runners where starting to lap us and the prospect of passing a sickly, fast moving Porsche while being passed by a not so sickly even faster moving Porsche did not full me with delight. I called it quits and headed into the pits after posting a very pedestrian 1:31, which incidentally was on my warmup lap!

It was an omen of things to come.

The pit area was abuzz with chatter as drivers calculated theoretical results based on placings. The points for the season count both towards the classes as well as an overall championship. To win the championship you do not have to have the fastest car, in fact all you need is a decent number of cars in your class and consistent results near the top. I had come third last year, but this year was a way off down in 7th. Other drivers were much closer to the top, and with the last race of the day carrying double points, many of the categories were as yet undecided. 

Eventually, with the bacon and egg roll and coffee done and dusted it was time to race. I remembered to attach, and switch on, my camera for a change so headed to the holding area for the start.

With our warm up and line up sequence completed the race began in ernest. The aforementioned Porsche was behind me and I had Rob in his Lotus 7 ahead. All I needed to do was keep the Porsche behind me and deal with Rob and anyone else I could in front of me. However, the best-laid plans of mice and men and all that .. While I was doing my usual first lap faffing about (I really need to focus on this next year!), the Porsche snuck past in Turn 3. Well, this could effectively chuck a nice size 19 spanner into any challenge I would have with Rob. I would need to pass this beast, and fast, if I were to have any chance of taking a win in Class D.

This would prove easier said than done. The Porsche was certainly having no issues with straight line speed. I suspected it might be the driver that was having the issues so set about trying to force an error. I could catch up around the rear of the circuit and under braking into Turn 5. I tried my best to poke my nose in everywhere I could. The idea was to fill his mirrors up with black Harper and be ready to pounce if he ran wide somewhere. He was having none of that though and we tussled for the entire race like this. I must admit, it was actually quite fun. Eventually, on the last lap, the leaders caught us coming out of Turn 1. This was my chance, all I had to do was duck in behind them and follow them through. Except for a small flaw in my plan. It was the Juno and the Mallock, two of the fastest cars in the race. I came out of Turn 1 on full throttle, but they caught and passed the Porsche before he even reached Turn 2, a distance of some 100m or so. He had plenty of time to close the door behind them. Anyway, I was now close on his tail and decided to throw a bit of caution to the wind for Turn 3. It was not needed though as the Porsche ran slightly wide into Turn 3 and I grabbed the opportunity with both hands and foot flat. Its not the best place to pass a faster car since they can usually stroll past you again on the back straight. However, I had a plan. I was going to drift across the straight making it difficult to pass. This seemed to work a treat and I was very happy to see the chequered flag at the end of the main straight. I had beaten a Porsche Cup car! How cool was that.

In the after race paddock I went over the chat to the Porsche driver. We shook hands and I thanked him for the dice. "Sorry to hold you up" he said "but may car has only got two working gears, its a bit of a challenge getting out of corners". He smiled, I smiled. Mine was a little fake I suspect. Great, I had just had my ass handed to me by a Porsche with only a third of working gearbox. Fantastic. I slunk back to my car.

Race two was a repeat of race one, except for the fact that I did not manage to pass the Porsche this time. Still, once I managed to put the whole broken gearbox thing out of my mind and just enjoy the dice, I actually had quite a good time. It was a good change to practice race craft, something I am sorely lacking. They say, when you start racing, it takes you a year to figure out you can't drive, then a year to learn how to drive and, finally, a year to learn how to race. Since this was only my second year I figured I still had a bit of time to learn to race. 

In the end, it was a great day. I had a two fantastic races with a Porsche Cup car and, although by default, came second in Class D. This secured me the overall win for Class D for the year and left me 7th in the championship. 

More to the point though, I had competed in every race day and only failed to finish one race due to my broken gear shift cable. The Type 6 prototype had taken everything I had thrown at it  and just smiled. We had driven on the hottest recorded track to date in Feb, we had driven in the rain, we had driven almost 1000km to PE, raced, and driven back. I had changed the oil once and Craig had replaced the suspension bushes. This and the occasional wash was pretty much the only maintenance I had done on the car the entire season. 

Of course, this could mean one of two things. Either the car is exceptionally well designed and built, or I am not racing it hard enough. I think it's a combination of both. The car is exceptional, but I am always cognisant of the fact that I need to drive it home afterwards. I suspect this does temper my racing aspirations slightly.

Still, it is a testimony to the design. Racing is probably the hardest thing a car can be subjected too and will quickly bring out any flaws or weaknesses.

So that was the 2012 racing season with Sports & GT's. A fun time was had by all, except maybe Paul who set fire to his GT40, other than that we have had a great season with consistently big fields of cars and some good, clean, close racing.

On to 2013 then. I'm not planning on doing anything new to the car at this point. There is still much untapped potential and most of it is being held up by the driver's lack of skill at this point. I might look at retrofitting the larger 17" wheels the two new Type 6's are being build to take. This could help to tame the rampant rear end and could assist in getting out of corners quicker, but again, there is something to be said for getting the best out of what you have before making changes.

But we will have to wait and see what comes of the near year.

Starting slow

I'm a slow starter. Its just one of those things. When I rode my mountain bike semi seriously it would take a good 10km for the various body parts to give up complaining and start working together for the greater good. This trend seems to have followed me to motor racing as well! I was hoping it would not, but there you have it.

Of course, over a five hour bike race, there is quite a bit of opportunity to make up for a slow start. In a 12 minute sprint race, not so much. The good news is that, unlike in mountain biking, its probably something I can fix fairly easily since its mostly a mind thing. 

So why am I telling you all this? Well, because it was made abundantly clear to me during the race day this past weekend.

We had finally rotated to the top of the program again which put us first up for qualifying at 8am and had our races at a decent 10am and 2pm. Much better timing now that it was fully summer and the sun was getting up early again.

I caught up with Ant at the set of traffic lights just before the track where he was causing some traffic chaos owing to a blown fuse. He seemed to have things in hand so I headed on and parked up in my pit. I collected my paperwork and headed off to scrutineer. By the time I got back to the pits Ant had arrived and was busy tracing the source of his blown fuse. By now qualifying was rapidly approaching so we all suited up and rumbled off to the holding grid.

I was trying a new tactic for qualifying. I usually start as close to the back as I can owing to my aforementioned slow starting. This time I was going to try starting a little higher up the order and was determined to throw the preverbal caution to the wind. I figured its far better to spin off during qualifying than during the race itself. The plan of starting higher up the field was to try and get a few more clean laps in before the front of the field arrived on the scene and messed things up. 

The whistle blew and we were waved onto the track. It was fairly cold still, but I did a bit of tyre warming for half a lap and then set to things. My plan seemed to work as I managed around six clean laps and second on the grid in class D. I was pipped to pole by Paul in the R8 who was showing a slightly indecent turn of speed for the day. It was a sign of things to come for Paul as he seems to be getting issues on the R8 slowly sorted.

Ant also managed to score a decent qualifying time, but then Ant is a pro at getting out of the blocks at a full sprint.

Ant in action. Photo curtesy of Dieter

We now only had a couple of hours to wait before our first race so we headed to the club house for the ritual breakfast roll and coffee.

Soon it was race time and we dutifully lined up on the holding grid. We had 19 cars racing with only two Harpers and three members of class D in attendance. Craig was getting ready to head off up North and race in Zimbabwe while Haydn was still finalising his new engine after letting all the smoke out of his old one. Class D comprised myself, Hennie in his every trusty Lotus 7 and Paul in the fabulous R8. Sadly Alan, in the only other Harper, had done his gearbox in during qualifying so was forced to sit the first race out while his crew frantically dismembered his car.

We finally rolled up to the start and, as usual, by the time we arrived on the main straight the field was in full flight. My grid placing put me on the outside going into turn 1. I had Hennie on the inside just behind me and Paul up front.

Which brings me neatly to the issue of starting slowly. Hennie does not have this problem at all and neatly slotted his Lotus between me and the inside of turn 1. I was then further distracted by Cyril in his Porsche, who had qualified badly, and was behind us again. His car has considerably more urge than ours and he was elbowing he way between us going into turn 2. I don't care much for his colour scheme and did not really want any of it on my car so I gave him some room. By the time the frenzied activity of the first two corners was over Hennie, Paul and Ant where some way up the track. Eventually, after around 5 laps, I was starting to get my times down into the early 25's and had halted the rampantly widening gap between myself and the rest of class D. I then slowly managed to start reducing the gap, helped in no small way by the fact that Ant and Hennie were locked in battle. Paul and the R8 were nowhere to be seen. 

The race ended with Ant taking Hennie and me not quite getting close enough to be anything of a challenge. Paul's R8 turbo's had clearly enjoyed the cooler air, with him posting a handful of 23's that effectively shoved him into class C for the next race day. He would, however, finish the day with us in class D leaving Hennie and I to fight for the lesser placings. Round one was to Hennie then.

Our next race was scheduled for 2pm so it was time for an early lunch. Around this time Paul of the burning GT40 fame arrived and we chatted about his resurrection plans. He is pretty much totally rebuilding his GT40 and, while everything is in bits, he's making a few changes. He was a bit cagey about the changes, but assured us he would be ready for next season. We are all looking forward to the reappearance of the grand old lady of racing. The car that is, not Paul.

We spent lunch having a fascinating chat with Gunther from G&A Promotions (local supplier of all things racing). He has just finished building a V8 Masters car and gave us some interesting insight into these amazing one make machines designed by the late Owen Ashley.

A V8 Masters car

I wandered back to the pits and had a stern chat with myself about getting going from the word go. No more Mr Nice Guy or waiting for "things to settle down". It was time for a little more gung and a little less ho(hum). I had draw pole for race 2 and really needed to make the most of this little gift.

However, turn 2 was a case of serious deja vu as both Paul and Hennie strolled past me on the inside. I was so busy cursing and swearing into my helmet that I failed to notice the large black Corvette driven by new comer to Sports & GT, Hennie Bosman, starting to fill up my mirrors. It was clearly the jolt I needed. There's nothing like a big black car bearing down on one to focus the mind. In no time I was clocking early 25's and was right on the tail of Hennie's Lotus. Something that surprised him almost as much as me, considering my previous results. I briefly mused on being the filling to a Hennie sandwich before setting about rear of the Lotus in all ernest. Hennie is a seasoned campaigner and can really pilot his car. It's amazing how wide he can make a little Lotus 7 appear to be! He is quicker than me on the twisty bits, but I have the edge on the straights. My grunt advantage is somewhat offset by Hennie's ability to brake virtually as he starts turning in. Eventually, however, I was placed close enough to take him down the main straight. He slowly wandered across the track leisurely taking the racing line. I ducked left and passed him on the inside then, remembering Craig's advice of making the other driver work for his place, cut across onto the racing line for turn 1. We swung though turn 1 and blasted up to turn 2 where I took my usual line. Needless to say Hennie simply ducked inside me and took the corner. It was the second time at the same corner in the same race that I was cursing and swearing into my helmet, but mental notes were been made.

I managed to mostly stick with him all the way around the back of the circuit and coming out of turn 5 I was ready for his cross circuit amble. I held left and, as soon as there was enough space, blasted past retaking the racing line for turn 1 as before. Again we slithered through turn 1, but this time I dived right into the middle of turn 2 and slowed up enough to keep control. Hennie had no choice, but to follow me though. The rest of the race was rapidly consumed by determined attacks from Hennie and equally determined defences from myself. It was all out racing.

By the time the chequered flag fell I was breathing hard and sweating a lot more than the mildly warm day demanded. Round two was to me! Hennie pulled up next to me as we coasted to park ferme and gave me the thumbs up. It was by far the best race I had been involved in to date. Its a real pleasure to race with somebody like Hennie who races hard, but clean. 

Final results had Paul, in his last outing with us class D mortals, taking first while Hennie took second and myself third overall. We now have one more race day left this season, the last race of which counts for double points. With only 12 points separating the two of us, this season is going down to the wire! Slow starting is not going to be an option.

Personally, I would not have it any other way!

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.