Ring....

"Hello?"

"Hey Harry, it's Cris, I'm calling from Mid Ohio. Remember that problem where the vehicle just dies?"

... long silence ...

"Harry, still there? Remember that ignition problem we've been having?"

An emphatic "NO!" is heard on the line.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is ..."

Well I'm getting ahead of myself here. First some background.

After years of "we really ought to go...", all the Delaware racers decided to make this year, THE year we do Sebring. Two days of towing got us there, ready to enjoy a respite from the winter Northeast. Ah Sebring, what a great track! Even with the issues I had, I really enjoyed my trip there. Now if they only moved it another 500 miles closer I would be a more frequent visitor.

About those "issues I had". Not to worry, I don't need to see Dr. Phil yet. But my car could do with a priest and an exorcism. Throughout the race weekend, my car would mysteriously stop running and go dead. It died just idling, died cruising the pit lane, going through turn one - that was pucker inducing. Left turns, right turns, no turns, just died. Hot or cold, didn't matter. Run for an hour, then die and wouldn't start again for 15 minutes or refire immediately. It was totally random. I got towed in twice. Died while waiting for my grid assignment for qualifying, forcing all the racers to drive around me. Then fired up and ran the whole qualifying session plus the sprint race. Go figure.

We narrowed it down to an electrical problem and the rest of the race weekend was devoted to throwing as many ideas against the problem to see what could fix it. Unfortunately we couldn't solve it. After being towed in again for the Sunday warm-up session I called it quits and loaded the car into the trailer, foregoing the Enduro race.

Over the course of the next 2 months, we replaced or substituted every component in the ignition system, ran new wiring to the CDI box and fuel pumps, crimped, re-crimped, replaced connectors, added more ground straps. New points, coil, CDI box, the list went on and on. I'd do a DE and the car would run great for 5 sessions and then randomly, boom, it would fail again. Several days before leaving for Mid Ohio, the car starting failing more and more. It'll run fine for two hours and then not start again for several more. Very frustrating.

Harry put in a marathon session and handled the car over to me with a wish to go have fun and included large box of spares.

So would the car run at Mid Ohio? That was the unknown question of the weekend. As it turned out, the car ran great all weekend. Success at last!

So we had driven the devil out of the 911. But as it turns out, it didn't go far.

Back to the phone conversation. "So Harry, the good news is the 911 worked great, all weekend long, not a hiccup. The bad news, that electrical demon has infected my tow vehicle!"

Heading for breakfast on Sunday morning I turn out of the motel lot in my F250 and head down the steep hill. 100 feet later I hear a snap, the motor dies and all my gauges go dead. Oh no, not this again!

By now, being quite experienced at piloting dead vehicles at speed, I skillfully guided the pickup down the hill and into a Taco Bell lot. Hmmm, 500 miles from home on a Sunday morning. I wonder what are the chances that a Ford dealership is open today. Well, as I'm sure you can guess, slim to none. So several hours later found my dead truck deposited in the back yard of the local Ford dealer where it still sits as I type this at home. My trailer and car lie abandoned at Mid Ohio.

However, electrical demons didn't stop the racing, my race car still works, so lets go racing.

Saturday was the wet Spring Mid Ohio we all know and love. A line of thundershowers moved through the area all day long. Finally in the 3rd practice for my group (2), a dry line started to form toward the end of the session. Since this set our qualifying position for the Enduro, it was time to crank up the pace. We got about 4 laps of drying track and I managed to get my time down to a 1:52 after 2 minute+ slippery laps all day long.

With a wet track and a handful of novices required to take part, most racers sat out the fun race. I went out and had fun sliding the car around, ending 4th overall.

This was the first time Mid Ohio had an Enduro added to the weekend. Since this was a two day event, the Enduros were held at the end of each day. As luck would have it, my Enduro race was scheduled for late Sat afternoon in the rain.

I slotted into 8th position on the grid and waited. The light rain continued to splash on my windshield and then started to intensify. The officials called a 5 minute break for those who wanted to change tires. Some cars left and didn't come back by the time we head onto the track. As we head onto the track and approach the splitter, I'm gridded 3rd, right behind the pole sitter on the inside.

We do the pace lap and it's very wet out there. As we approach the carousel, the pace car pulls off and heads for the pit land, and right behind him, the lead car puts his hand out and follows the pace car into the pit.

Hey, I'm on pole! I'll take it anyway I can get it. I lead the field around the final turn and onto the front straight. The flag drops and I head for turn one. I'm on the inside getting ready to turn in, when I spot in my left side mirror a flash of white coming up fast. At the same time I hear Gregg on radio "Watch out, car coming hot on your left." I'm thinking what kind of idiot is trying a banzai move on the first turn of an 1 hour Enduro on a soaking wet racetrack. I manage to avoid being collected and keep from sliding into the car on the outside. Meanwhile, Terry Heath, on the Hoosier wets, just rockets off into the distance. It just reminds me of the saying, more races are lost in turn one than are won ...

After a couple laps in, the lead group on Hoosier wets have checked out, and I'm running in the clear. Great for me, no spray to peer through. While heading into the braking zone at the end of the back straight, I look in the rear mirror and see lots of spray and suddenly, a red 911 get sideways and goes spinning off the track and heavily into the side walls on driver's left. Soon a full course yellow is thrown and the field bunches up again behind the safety car.

At the end of the back straight, I see the red 911 and a black 911 together against the left side. The red 911 looks like it took a hard impact, while the black 911 looks undamaged.

As the race progresses, more rain continues to fall. Apexes sink under water, puddles and streams flow down the straights.

Now as soon as I start the turn into the chicane before the keyhole, my car starts hydroplaning and plows away at an angle at high speed. After 20 feet, the stream ends and my tires hook up and we barely make the turn into the chicane. Later I see another car buried nose first in the tire wall at the top of the keyhole. He must have locked up his tires, skidded off the track, and once on the grass, straight into the tire wall. This brings out another full course caution.

After 30-35 minutes I decide to come in for my 5 min mandatory stop and hope the track dries a little bit during the stop. I'm leading E at this point, while the leaders in F, Gary Grigsby, Jim Child and Terry Heath are far away in the distance, having already lapped me. They could just drive anywhere on the track, while I had to search for grip on the concrete. Miss the concrete patches and I went for ride. Note to self: must buy a set of the Hoosier wets if I'm going to play in the water...

My 5 minute stop is up and I'm back out into the mess. The track is still wet, but not as under water as it was. I resume my slipping and sliding around the course. Ten minutes later, my foot is to the floor as I come through the kink on the back straight and with a snap of God's fingers I'm flying backwards down the track at 100mph.

All too quickly I'm on the grass sliding and the concrete wall is heading my way. I'm still going backwards, my foot hard on the brakes - as if that would do any good, but old habits are hard to break. But I refuse to give up.

Time slows down. I look out the driver's window and the wall keeps getting closer and closer. But I counter steer and gain an inch or two. I hit a bump, the car rotates and jumps closer. I throw in some opposite lock and decrease the angle to the wall by a few degrees.

By now, the wall is less than a foot away and I'm still sliding. I know the hit won't be hard, but I will hit. I keep steering anyway and miraculously I come to slippery halt with the side of my car still 6 inches from the concrete. If I opened my door right now, I'd get a 13/13. Whew! What a ride! That slide seemed to take the whole 60 minutes of the Enduro instead of the 5 or so seconds it was in reality.

It takes me a few seconds to collect myself, and then I steer the car back onto the track. A few laps later I start to notice a vibration in the left rear. I had a CV joint that had been making a little noise before the race and we shot a hit of grease into the boot to quiet it down. I just have to get to the end of the race, maybe 10-15 minutes, just nurse this home. A lap or two later and it was getting worse. "Gregg, I'm coming in. I got a problem." I yell on the radio.

Gregg had left the pits since my pit stop was over, wisely staying out of the rain. He hurries down and meets me up pit lane. "Holy crap! your wheel's about ready to come off. 3 of the nuts are loose." I had torqued the lug nuts before the race. The spin and bumpy slide must have worked them free. Gregg disappears down pit lane. 30 seconds later he's back with a torque wrench, re-tightens the nuts and sends me back out.

Soon the checkered flag is waving and the race is over. My spin and subsequent trip to pit lane cost me two spots and I ended the Enduro in 3rd.

With the race over, everybody headed to Bucks Bar-B-Que in town for beer and food and a seemingly unlimited supply of lanyards as prizes.

Sunday dawned cool and breezy, but dry. After the debacle with the truck I made it back to the track just in time to find my sprint race qualifying session in progress. I hustled into my driving suit and jumped into the car. They had blocked all the hot pit access points, so I had to work my way through all the group 3 racers lining up for their session on the false grid. Finally I made it out on the track where I managed two hot laps. Not my greatest qualifying performance, gridding around 12th in class, 38th overall, but it wasn't DFL. Besides, this would let me pass more cars during the race.

The sprint race was fun. I spent a good part of it battling with a cup car who was slower than me but determined not let me by. I'd poke my nose in on the inside, the outside and he'd slam the door shut every time. I'd be on his bumper until we hit the front straight, where he put his foot down and gain a couple car lengths on me, keeping me from getting along side into one. I'd be caught up by the turn one track-out and glued until his bumper until we hit the back straight and it was Hello Horsepower. By Madness I'd be back, and round and round we went.

Finally I set him up on the carousel and got a good jump off the corner and drafted him 6 inches off his bumper. I popped out at the end, took the corner and I never saw him again.

Once I disposed of the cup car, I started picking off cars one by one, picking up several places until the checker flew. All in all, a satisfying race, and the car worked great. It was an enormous relief to worry about race strategy instead of ignition issues.

With the racing over, I loaded my car into the trailer. I borrowed Mark Weining's truck and delivered my trailer back behind the maintenance sheds, where the Mid Ohio folks graciously let me store it until it can be retrieved.

With the conclusion of the Group 3 sprint race, the Delaware gang loaded up and headed east. As the trailer pulled away into the night, you might have heard this phone conversation:

Ring....

"Hello?"

"Hi Honey, it's me! Remember that vacation you wanted to take? How about next weekend ... uh, huh... I was thinking about visiting Ohio, you'll love it ...Honey, … hello?, hello?... "