The chance to drive two tracks in five days sounded like a dream come true. With one of those days being free, I felt I should contact the Vatican to report that a miracle had occurred. But there was a catch. One of these days would have to be spent instructing with the Miata club. Now that in itself wasn't bad, but a friend of mine had told me some real horror stories about aggressive driving by inexperienced students in cars without roll bars. Hmmm. The risk of disfigurement and crippling injuries for a free day on the track. I didn't need a Masters degree in the Actuarial sciences to know that this was a deal too good to pass up. So it was set. Three days at the Glen with the Riesentoter folks, followed up with two days at Pocono with the Miata club.
Ahhhhh.......the Glen. What an awesome place. The last time I was there I was doing forced labor on a pit crew, but this time it was all about the driving, or should I say, MY driving. As always, the driving was great, and the weather even better. Aside from a few scares, the weekend was without incident. Until the trip to the next track.
It started out peacefully enough with a few of us traveling "Gypsy Wagon Train Style" across route 17 en route to Pocono International. Can anyone say "Hey Rube"? While trailers generally annoy me on the road, the converse is true when the possibility exists that one of these trailers may end up carrying my car home from an event. So we're driving for about an hour when the call is put in for a rest stop. Sounded simple enough....until a guy named Ian decided to demonstrate the innate engineering genius built into all electric/automatic vehicle locking systems. Yep, he shut the door and the locks kicked in as expected. What was unexpected was that the keys were still in the ignition. So there we were, standing around staring at a locked vehicle. Call me a cave man, but I would have just calmly picked up a rock and smashed out the smallest window if it were my vehicle. The benefits here would be twofold: entry to the vehicle, along with a chance to administer damage to a painfully antiquated General Motors engineering debacle. Instead, a member of our crew with a past life in the security industry concocted a plan that would have put a tear in McGyver's eye. He crafted a makeshift slimjim from a paint can handle. Using this crude, but effective device, he and our resident computer geek gained access to the vehicle within minutes. I'd never want to be in prison with this guy. Get on his bad side and he would probably shank you with a sharpened spork(spoon and fork combination utensil). Once back on the road the trip continued without incident, and we were in the "majestic" Pocono Mountains by ten o'clock.
Monday morning dawned gray and drizzly as we set out to begin day four on the track. We arrived at seven o'clock and were lucky enough to find some garage spaces, as the day looked like a rainy one. By seven thirty I was hanging off the tailgate of the aforementioned GM vehicle setting up turn-in, apex and track-out cones. Despite the rain, I was never happier.
The first thing you notice when attending a Miata club event is the people, or should I say lack thereof. Where it is not uncommon for us to have 120 folks present at our RTR events, the Miata folks had about 30. Which is OK by me, as it just serves to put me that much closer to the "ticket window". As well as providing for plenty of open track. The sun actually came out during the driver's meeting, so spirits began to lift along with the fog. Now the time was here for me to try my hand at instructing.......
My first student was in the "advanced" group, or the equivalent to our blue. It was with some trepidation that I entered her car. No harnesses, no roll bar...........no problem. Turns out that the fastest we went was about eighty miles per hour, or in other words, about as fast as most of us drive on the way to the Wawa for a hoagie. That she was the wife of the event organizer made me want to instruct her all the better. And she was fine. We worked on smoothing out her shifting and braking, as well as my pleading for her to pick up the pace a bit. She did a great job, and I actually felt as if she had improved.
The other student was a first timer. Our first session out we learned how to "connect the dots", as represented by the cones in the corners. He picked up on the idea really fast, and was getting better with each proceeding lap. He continued to improve as the day went on. During the final session I asked him if this was something he would like to do again in the future. "Not really", he replied, "I just wanted to see what all this track stuff was about". It was like a knife in the back. How could anyone NOT become addicted to the track? Rather than blame myself, I just wrote it off to the fact that he was most likely an "adult bed wetter" with deep-seated oedipal issues.
Aside from instructing, there was plenty of open track time. Now this was more like it. A chance to go out and play in an environment not unlike an inner city dog-fight. Those little Miata's are fast! One even had a vanity plate that spelled out "Turbonator"(Get it?, Like the "Terminator"). My sides are still aching from the belly laughs provided by this brilliant word play. Such biting wit. Such whimsy.
While the Miatas were fine, I feel compelled to level my sights on the abomination known as the Subaru WRX Wagon. Our aforementioned computer geek friend needed a sporty car with the ability to haul the equipment used in his computer consulting business. On the surface the WRX looked like an excellent choice for him. It was on the track that reality made itself known. Fresh off his "auto lock incident", our friend Ian decided to see what he could do with this beast. I followed from a safe distance, and what I saw was shocking. Not only was the car sideways through every turn, but there was actually smoke coming from all four wheels. It looked like a scene straight from "Everglade Jimmy's Alligator Wrasslin' Ranch", only in this case the alligator said WRX, and Ian was the "wrassler". So of course I had to give this car a try for myself. In four years I have never left a session early, but that was about to change. Within three laps I was so nauseous I had to pull in. The suspension was just way too soft. It's obvious that Subaru and I define the term "rally car" quite differently. Work is currently underway to tame our friend's overly compliant suspension, and hopefully the next report will be a bit more complimentary.
And so it ended, five days spent on the track with some great folks. The Miata club members were just great all around. In fact, I would highly recommend spending a few days with another group should the opportunity arise. It will make you leave your comfort zone. And you just may meet some pretty cool people along the way.
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Author:
Starting with a $99 “American Auto” minibike at age 9, Christopher Mahalick has spent the past 30 years frittering away his hard earned cash feeding a completely irrational car and motorcycle obsession. He currently writes a monthly column for “Der Gasser”, a monthly publication produced by the Porsche Club of America’s Riesentoter Region. In addition to a monthly column, he is also active in Drivers Ed as a participant, as well as being the region’s track registrar.
His style could be best described as “car articles that even chicks read”. Employing equal doses of humor and practicality, his mission is to bring “speed to the masses” by dispelling the myth that the car/motorcycle hobby is restricted only to the ultra-rich. Mr. Mahalick’s current “fleet” includes the following: a 1984 911 Targa, a 1971 914, a 1977 Yamaha RD-400 café bike, and “Thrashy”, a 1988, $150 Volkswagen Jetta beater.
Copyright (c) 2003 by Christopher Mahalick. All Rights Reserved
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