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Road Atlanta Revisited

The Plan

A year ago, on the night before I was to leave for the Road Atlanta race, I could be found driving back and forth on I-95. I was running the car up and down the powerband, trying to break in my rebuilt engine in the middle of the night. One of the definitions of intelligence is the ability to learn from your mistakes. So this year you would think I would be ready early. Especially since my last race was all the way back in November.

Well if you thought that, you would be wrong.

#188, happy to be at the track
The Delaware/Chesapeake corner of the paddock
I thought things were going smooth. I had replaced the cracked windshield (broken in the Carolinas race). I fixed my cracked front splitter (also broken at Carolinas). Replaced my expiring seat harnesses. Harry Hall had rebuilt my dying transmission. He hadn't gotten around yet to doing my suspension, but that should take only a day or two. There's still plenty of time. First let's take the new transmission out to Summit Point for the Driver's Ed in March.
By the end of Saturday I was having a good dice on the track. I was running 1:28's, my race pace at Summit last year, and feeling non-stressed, non-hurried. Still plenty more time to find when I push. On the last lap of the day I'm flying under the bridge before turn 10 when my clutch starts slipping. Above 4000 rpm's, the motor would just spin with no drive to the rear wheels. What's going on here? I come around to the front straight and the checker is out. The cool down lap is slow and I don't really get a chance to see or feel what's going on. I pull into my pit and jump out. What's that dripping under the engine? Pop open the engine lid. Holy Sh!!! Oil everywhere! It looks like my car had a bad night at the Deer Park saloon, mixing bourbon with pina coladas. Hey! That's not oil, the fluid is colored red. That's Swepco tranny fluid. Time to call Harry.
Fast forward several days. The clock is counting down to Road Atlanta, a long 700 miles away. Harry, not expecting to be rebuilding a transmission along with the suspension, had booked other work. Some of which turned out to be bigger tasks than originally thought. Other work had to be finished to allow my transmission and suspension to be started.
The race weekend starts Saturday morning. With 700 miles to tow, I wanted to leave Thursday around noon. I would travel the bulk of the distance Thursday, finishing up Friday. This would allow me possibly a few track sessions on Friday, shaking out the car, bedding in new brake pads, heat cycling my new tires.
That was The Plan.
The next few days were a blur. After many full days extending past midnight into the wee hours I loaded my car onto my trailer sometime after midnight Thursday night. The pile of parts left over in the garage wasn't that big. Nothing looked really important. After replacing the tranny main seal, replacing the suspension and a quick alignment, the car had been driven a grand total of 50 feet. A quick few hours of sleep and I was on the road to Atlanta by 7am Friday morning. 700 miles later that evening I was unloading the car in the paddock that evening. A quick lap of the paddock and nothing fell off. I'm here and I'm ready to race.
After some thought, I guess The Plan needed some work. There's always next year...
The Downhill - it's steeper than it looks! Working the traffic - 2001 race

Qualifying
One of my goals during a race weekend is to manage the Process of racing. This means being effective during the various parts of the weekend. Building on each section, hopefully peaking during the final session, the Race.
It seems that a lot of people just don't get this concept. The goal of the qualifying session is not race practice, but the best possible time. This means driving the fast line as perfectly as possible. Any deviation from the perfect line, such as a slow car in the wrong place, somebody challenging you for a corner, means the whole lap is wasted and you have to start all over again.
I've gotten a lot better about managing my qualification sessions. I try to go out fast, get some clear track and click off the hot laps. I monitor my times and when I feel I've done my best, I quit and come on in. I don't try to stay out the whole session, "trying just one more lap". Usually the guys at the front understand this. The track is green at the start, not the usual practice first lap yellow, and they start out fast. It's the guys in the middle and back who don't seem to know why they're out there.
Since I'm a mid-packer I don't have the luxury of starting with the frontrunners. I have to deal with the guys swerving trying to heat their tires, acting like the yellow is out and not passing other cars. I want to get clear track and find someone who's a second or so faster than me that I can follow and chase.
We get released by the pit marshals. Of course the front guys immediately zoom off. I am gridded 27th, so there's a huge crowd of cars in front of me. A lot of them are moving slow, patiently queuing in line to go through the corners. This is not for me. I come out of the esses onto the little straight and fly down the inside passing tons of cars. I stay on the inside and go around turns 6 and 7 and onto the back straight. Finally the cars start stretching out and I get some space. I fly down the hill, under the checker and start my hot lap. Turns 1, 2, 3 are perfect. Looking good. Uh oh, I catch a slower car in the esses. This lap is done. I back out of the throttle and follow, passing him later on the back straight. I catch another slower car and instead of letting me by he starts racing me to the corner. Idiot! I get around him on the front straight with another lap gone bad. On the back straight, I close again on another 944 turbo going slow. Once again the driver starts going fast. He's not going to let me by. Well by now, there's a sizable gap behind me and the next group of cars. Doug Donsbach is close behind me in his 944 turbo. I slow down and let the other turbo get some distance on us. He seems to be up to speed now. Toward the middle of the back straight I start rolling on the throttle building my speed back up.
Clean space in front and to the back. I start my stopwatch as I flash under the checker. I get 3 good solid laps in. On my 4th I notice my times are starting to fall off. On the 5th lap I'm a full second off my best time. It's time to call it quits. I peel off into the pits. Doug stays out only to catch a slower car and he too quits on the next lap.
Go out, find some clean room, crank off your best and come in. That was the plan and it worked. I snagged a 1:45.99, over 5 seconds faster than my qualification last year!
From the Resourceful Racers Dept:
Tom (Mr. Clean) Holmes finds water in the middle of the desert so he can wash his car.
Here's Mr. Clean at Speed.
All that washing must've helped, Tom snagged 2nd place. Maybe I should start washing my racecar ... Not!

The Race
Sitting on the grid, the sun is out and it's getting hot in the car. Finally the whistle blows and we get the 1 minute signal. Out onto the track and by the splitter, where I get sent to the inside. Great! I always love the inside. I'm in the middle of the group, starting around 27th or so out of 42 cars. Around the track we go, alternatively slowing down and speeding up as the pack accordions behind the pace cars. I'm left foot braking to bring my brakes up to temp.
We come down the back straight and the pack speeds up to go under the bridge. Wasn't anybody at the driver's meeting? Don't they remember that there are 2 pace laps? I guess everybody's adrenalin is up and they forgot. The pack zooms down the hill looking for the green flag but of course they didn't get it. A bit of confusion, but it gets sorted out.
Around we go again. Again the pack speeds up going up and under the bridge. This time it's for real. I'm coming down the hill when: Green Flag! I dive down the hill passing several cars. Heading toward the middle, I tuck behind another car and we both move down the inside. 40+ cars come together in a giant ooze of confusion and brake lights at turn one. I stay on the inside and round the corner. The next corner is a left, but the speeds are still low with all the cars clogging the track. I stay to the outside and pass a couple more cars.
Turn 3 is a hard right with heavy braking before it. To get a good line you have to run the right side of the car up over the alligator/rumble strips. No room for me on the inside now, everybody is diving right. No time for half measures here, so I just jump over the curve and take the whole car inside the corner and off the track. Next section is a long downhill left sweeper leading into the famous esses
There's only room for one car in the esses so I need to be tucked in at that point. I stay out right, off-line around the sweeper picking up a few more spots as others take the normal line. I tuck behind another car 1 foot off his bumper and we both rocket up the esses. We single file it up and through the esses and the race settle downs a little. Whoa baby! I started 9th in class and now I'm 4th. That was a great start!
The adrenalin level notches back a little. No longer is there a huge cluster of cars around me. Just a few, a few who are determined to get past. That won't do.
Over the next several laps there's a knot of cars behind me. Immediately behind me is Kernie Timmons in his F class 944 turbo. Right behind him is a couple of cars in my class. Ahead of me the front runners drift away but the battle is intense among our group of cars. They catch up with me going into turn 7, the corner before the long back straight.
I think this corner is the most important on the track. The back straight is so long, over a mile, that screwing up this corner hurts your speed down the straight. Alternatively, doing this one right will payoff richly, preventing somebody from getting close enough to late brake pass at the end. I'd rather over-brake for the corner, giving up some speed, than come in too hot and having to lift in the middle to stay on track.
And it seems to be working. The group catches me at the corner, but I nail it perfectly each time, getting a solid launch down the straight. Nobody is able to get close enough to pass at the end. The next lap I screw up just a little. I get some wheel-spin coming out of the turn, not much, just enough to drop some speed. This time Kernie stays close all the way.
He moves to the inside, planning to late brake and complete the pass. This is the fastest part of the track for my car. I'm getting close to 140, going downhill before I have to stand on the brakes. Kernie waits for me to brake ... and I hang tough. The huge gravel trap is dead ahead waiting to embrace my car. And I wait ... Kernie is still behind me
Finally I stand on the brakes at the last possible moment. As I reach my turn-in point, I see in my peripheral vision Kernie hasn't passed me yet. In my rookie days I would have conceded the corner and tucked in behind Kernie. But not anymore, he's going to have to work for it. I leave 1 and 1/2 car widths at the apex for Kernie as I turn in.
Next I hear the screech of tires locking up and the sound of a car spinning and leaving the track. I jerk the car to the right to avoid the possibility of getting t-boned and flog my car through the turns and up under the bridge.

Turn 10a - the end of the back straight. Here's Ernie Fink
taking the inside pass in last year's race
All this evasive maneuvering has scrubbed speed off and I had a terrible line coming onto the front straight. Two cars fly past me. Damn! Those are both E class cars. That aborted pass cost me two positions. Here comes a black 911, Eric Huffman, another E car. He late brakes me into turn one and takes another position away.
I dog Eric the next couple of turns, looking for a weakness. Hello! He brakes for the start of the esses. That caught me by surprise, I almost kissed his rear. I'm flat on the floor through that section. I follow him through the turn 5 and 6 combo. Coming through turn 7 I nail it perfectly and get a good launch. I'm faster off the corner than him and I'm able to pass him down the back straight. Eric can't get close enough to stick a pass in 10 and we both rocket unto the front straight.
Eric's able to do the downhill much better than I am, resulting in being able to re-pass me at turn one again. The next couple of laps are a repeat of this: Eric sticking the pass at turn 1 and me retaking it after 7.
I wonder how many laps we have raced. I've lost track - something I need to work on. What I really need is a radio and some pit crew at the other end. If I'm able to continue like this I'll be in the best position, leading when we take the checker.
The next lap around I bobble the turn 7 corner, going up on the gators and having to lift. This is trouble! I'm not able to complete the pass on the straight and Eric stays in the lead. I follow him around the track telling myself: perfect, perfect laps, be smooth ... I'm following this strategy, executing a perfect turn 7 when as I'm rolling onto the power, the engine note changes.
What the ...? My power is down, damn I've dropped a cylinder!
And that was that. Eric started steadily moving away while my lap times increased by 4 or 5 seconds. Doug Donsbach, who I had passed back on the start, motored past me on the back straight. Finally I was lapped by the 2 front D cars, Bryan Hayworth and Allen Hoveck. As we came down the hill we caught the checker and the race was over.
Final result was 7th place, an improvement of 2 spots from last year. Once again, my fastest time of the weekend was during the race. Most impressive to me, my fastest time was over 4 seconds quicker than last years. I guess that suspension did help.

I had a great weekend but PCA Club racing is really a team sport. I wouldn't have made it to Road Atlanta without the contributions of many people: Harry Hall and his many hours of labor beyond the call of duty; Gregg Wilson who pitched in on my transmission; Steve Timmins who came up with needed parts; and even Mark Weining who donated several hours of his labor just because he's a nice guy. At the track is a community also. My paddock mates Tom ("pretty good for an old man") and Fran Holmes, Eric and Beth Rupert, Ken Maynor and Harley Ewell were always ready to laugh, sympathize, bench race, cook, drink beer and pitch in. The racing's fun, but what makes it great are the people. Thanks guys!

- Cris Brady
1973 911 RS - Class E
Delaware PCA Region Webmeister
Ken Maynor with his sharp GT1 racer.
Part of the back straight with the turn 10a/b combo at the bottom.

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