Ticket to Ride

Every year, Rocky Mountain Vintage Racers put on a big event to raise money for the Morgan Adams Foundation to help kids with cancer. One way that I can contribute is to drive laps during the racers’ lunch break. The idea is that people make donations to get rides in cars at speed on the track. Seems I make it to these every other year for one reason or another. They do Ticket to Ride on both Saturday and Sunday; in previous years I’ve attended I’ve only managed to do one day. This year I went for both.

Saturday, August 10

They assign us to one of three groups, based on, presumably, how fast our cars are. This year, orange group cars are $50 rides, blue group cars are $100 rides, and green group cars are $250. I’m in the orange group. A few minutes before we were to go out on track, the organizers came to me and asked if I minded changing to the green group.

Not everybody has to make a donation to get a ride. In the past, I’ve given rides to the grid girls and corner workers. It’s typically sunny and quite warm at these events, and people can make a donation to get a grid girl to hold an umbrella over the drivers when they’re waiting on the grid. I think the grid girls are volunteers; I know the corner workers are. Event “ambassadors” get free rides, too. They’re kids who are cancer survivors. It seems we had an unusually high number of ambassadors at the event today, so they moved me to the green group to help with them.

Next to a 1949 MG

They have a little parking area near the table where people sign up to get rides. Usually, I arrive too late to park there. This year I made a point of getting there early so people could see the car. It’s certainly not the most expensive one there, or the most exotic. But it does draw a crowd. Ryan was there with his Exige, and we’d watch people looking at all the cars. I’m not saying they ignored the others, but ours seemed to be more the center of attention. Whenever I saw kids take an interest, I offered to let them sit in it. Not one refused; eight or ten kids took me up on the offer.

Some of the cars on offer

I gave four rides today, all to ambassadors. When the volunteers help them into my car, they tell the kids that I probably won’t be able to hear them. (It’s not “probably”: I certainly can’t hear my passengers.) If they want to go slower, give me a thumbs down. If they want to go faster, give me a thumbs up. We do an out lap, a “hot” lap, and an in lap. Usually the out lap is slower, to get warmed up, and the in lap is slower, to cool the car down. For these things, I try not to go slow.

Each lap I “asked” how my passengers were by giving them a thumbs up. Each lap, each one responded with a thumbs up.

I’m not sure how it is for the smaller kids. My first ambassador was pretty young; too short to see much out the window. And he couldn’t brace himself against the bar in the foot well, and with just regular seatbelts (I don’t have harnesses installed), the smaller kids tend to move around a bit in the seat. They all said they enjoyed the rides when they got out, though.

Afterwards, they provide lunch for the Ticket to Ride drivers. Nothing fancy, but I’m very happy to get a meal and a cold beverage. During lunch a couple of parents approached me. “You gave my son a ride. He really had a blast. Thank you.” I really can’t imagine what these kids and their families have gone through. I’ll admit that what got me out there in the beginning was being able to run some free laps, but it does give me a “warm fuzzy” to give these kids a ride.

Sunday, August 11

Things were scheduled to start a bit earlier today, and I left the house a bit later, so I didn’t get a prime parking spot. They managed to squeeze me in anyway. There weren’t as many ambassadors today as yesterday, so they peeled the green sticker off my windshield and put me back where I belong, in orange. I don’t know if they were having trouble getting people to sign up for the green group, but today greens were only $200.

It looked like the local Viper club came out in force today with five of them in attendance. Unusually, they outnumbered the Porsche contingent. Ryan was there again, and David showed up too, so we had three Lotus. Both David and Ryan were in the blue group, with their superchargers and sticky tires.

Yesterday it was a bit overcast. I somehow neglected to apply sunscreen but luckily didn’t get too badly burnt. Today the sun was shining brightly, and although the forecast indicated it would be cooler, it was pretty toasty. I applied the sunscreen right away and spent more time in the little shade that is available.

The Vipers’ nest

My riders today were all paying passengers. One gal was particularly enthusiastic. Lots of “oh, yeah”‘s and “this is great”‘s. She waved at everybody who we passed or who passed us. When we pass, we get a point-by, and when I point somebody by, I get a little wave of acknowledgement in return. At the time, I was thinking she thought they were waving at her, so she waved back. It may be, though, that she was just enthusiastically waving at everybody we saw on the track.

The last few times I did Ticket To Ride they also had Pro-Am races so there were a bunch of professional racers in attendance. This time they were unable to source some cars so they could have a race in equal equipment, thus no Pro-Am race, and no gaggle of pros. But Randy Pobst was here. I’m pretty sure he’s here every year, whether there’s a Pro-Am or not.

With Randy Pobst

I ran into him before we gave laps and had a short conversation with him. Then I saw him again having lunch and sat down next to him for more discussion. He’s a very nice guy, very friendly. He told me he has always liked the Elise and is interested in the Evora. I asked him what his favorite tracks are (Watkins Glen, Laguna Seca, and Mont Tremblant, in no particular order) and what sort of fitness regimen he subscribes to (nothing much any more, other than good diet). I told him I lack technique: I can’t seem to figure out rev matching. He said he’s coaching somebody on that now, and he could help me, and that it’s hard to learn without a coach. I have no doubt I could learn quite a bit from him.

I enjoyed my time at the track. I didn’t get too sunburned, ran a few laps, shared some happiness with some deserving kids, spent some time with some friendly people, and made a small contribution to a worthy cause. Not a bad way to spend a weekend.

RMVR Snowmass

Sunday and Monday, September 16 & 17, 2018

I had about thirteen hundred words written up about Sunday and Monday going through things in detail. Nobody really cares, though, so I’ll just cut to the chase.

I stood around on the inside of turn 13 with David and Victoria, my co-crowd-controllers. We were keeping people out of the way and our corner workers, Tom and Brian, were on the outside of turn 13 keeping the drivers out of trouble. The biggest moment of excitement for them was when one of the Formula cars spun 180 degrees very close to Brian.

I had quite a bit more interaction with spectators than I did last year. Almost without exception (almost!), they were enthusiastic about the race. Not many were race fans, but they did get a kick out of the cars. It’s quite the sensory experience. The cars are brightly colored and moving fast, they’re loud, you can smell the exhaust. When the big bore cars get on the throttle exiting the turn, particularly when they are bunched closely together, you can feel it in your chest. It is nothing at all like watching them on TV, and words completely fail to convey the experience.

Our corner workers, Tom and Brian

RMVR fed us dinner Sunday evening. We had beer and wine and the food was prepared by King Kong Emergency Response Catering Wild Fire Team. As you may divine from their name, their specialty is feeding the firefighters who fight wildfires. It’s not your basic food truck, but is prepared to traverse somewhat more difficult terrain than your typical urban landscape.

They had a variety of food available. I selected fish, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a dinner roll. I was seated with my corner colleagues David and Victoria. When I got into the line for food I ran into Doug, so he joined us. He’s helping out a guy named Joe. Joe brought two cars: the number 17 Lotus 7 and the 007 Lotus Elan. He’s pretty fast. He asked where I was standing. I told him I was the guy giving all the Lotus cars the double thumbs up in turn 13 on the cool down lap. “Ah, I know where you were!”

David and Victoria ate quickly and retired to the hotel. Their spots at the table were taken by who I later learned were Steve and his wife. When I introduced myself to Joe I gave him my name and said, “I’m the green and yellow Elise.” That’s when Steve piped up and said he knew who I was. He’s in charge of arranging the volunteers for the lunch laps for the Race Against Kids Cancer. We had met briefly at last year’s event.

I didn’t take any of the cameras with me on Sunday. Corner captain Tom said, “If you’re watching the race you’re not doing your job.” But I wasn’t much busier here than on my station last year, so I was comfortable bringing all the cameras on Monday. I spent the first two laps or so of the first session for each group shooting with the SLR. I also found a variety of places to position the GoPros so that I’d get multiple angles.

Sunday’s activities were a bit shorter than Saturday’s. We had to give the streets back to the public no later than 4:00pm so the school buses could run. That was plenty of action for us. In total, we spent about sixteen hours standing on the street corner watching the cars and making sure nobody got in the way. The weather couldn’t have been much better; fine late summer days, a light breeze and no rain.

Sunday morning walking down to the meeting I spotted a place that said they served authentic Philly cheesesteaks. That sounded like a great idea for dinner, so after getting a shower I went to check it out. My first question was “What kind of bread do you use?” The answer wasn’t “Amoroso,” which, to me, means they’re not authentic. So I went searching for Plan B. There was an interesting looking Mexican place, but I didn’t want to spend that much so I found myself back to the New Belgium place where Jason and I ate Saturday night.

I did verify that David and Victoria were correct in that the Hanging Lake trail is closed. So I’m back to Plan A for the return to Denver: over Independence and Loveland passes.

I was back to the hotel and sacked out earlier than my usual bedtime.

Here’s a short video of the cars passing through turn 13.

RMVR Snowmass Crowd Control

A few months ago, Chad and I decided to volunteer to do crowd control for the Rocky Mountain Vintage Racers street race in Snowmass. We would be responsible for controlling pedestrian and vehicle traffic. The only better view of the race was had by the corner marshals. A big motivation for me was that the volunteers had the opportunity to run laps at Woody Creek the next day. If a free track day is involved, sign me up!

It takes a lot of people to put on a street race. A race at a track requires people to do race control, deal with the grid, and maybe a dozen corner stations. You need all the gear for those people: radios, flags, fire extinguishers, brooms. You have to be able to get the corner workers to their stations, make sure they have food and water, and you have to be able to collect them at the end of the day. For a street race, you have all that plus the town’s police department, fire department, emergency workers, and enough volunteers to control vehicle and pedestrian traffic. Before the event, somebody has to place barriers and signage and when we’re all done it all gets taken down. Oh, and there’s a massive communications effort to keep the citizenry informed.

I kept wondering just how many people were involved. I’m guessing about fifty people were required to do race control, grid, and corner workers. Another fifty for crowd control. Add in another handful of folks in supporting roles and you may be approaching 120 people. That’s before you add in the town’s side of it. And, of course, the sixty or so drivers and their support. It’s a big operation.

Our plan was to leave Denver late afternoon Wednesday, drive over Independence Pass, and check in at the hotel before ten. Thursday would start with a 7:30am meeting, then get into our positions until 5:00pm followed by a nice dinner starting at 6:00. Friday would be Woody Creek, leaving for home no later than 4:00pm. A couple of nights in a hotel, a couple of tanks of gas, a couple of pleasant days in the Colorado mountains. Sounds like a plan.

We were told that we should bring fold up camp chairs, water and snacks, sunscreen, hats, sunglasses, a fully charged cell phone, and a cooler or backpack to carry it all in. We’d be spending two nights, so we needed a couple changes of clothes. Because I wanted to run laps, we would also need our helmets. Of course, we stood no chance of getting all this into the Elise with us so we crossed off a few of the items. No chairs or coolers for us.

After all the final adjustments, we managed to be out the door before four, which meant we’d get over Independence Pass before total darkness. It was a beautiful drive. The aspen are just beginning to change. We went up I-70 then over Fremont Pass to Leadville, where we had burritos. The highlight of the drive is Independence Pass. The sun hadn’t set yet, but the road was in shadow on the eastern end of the pass. It was dusk as we descended the western side. We had to keep a keen eye out for wildlife. We saw goats, deer, and an elk.

September 14: Race Day

We were out the hotel door before seven and went to the Westin, next door, in search of food and drink. Oddly, there was none to be had until seven when the Starbucks downstairs opens.

Our Crowd Control meeting was held immediately after the corner workers meeting, so we got started a little late. The meeting was pretty quick: “Here are the position assignments, here are radios, we put the ladies closest to the porta-potties, We’ll be closing and opening the track for traffic all day, no lunch break but we’ll hand out sandwiches. Bring your radio back or you don’t get a dinner ticket.”

On the way out the door we were to collect a whistle, ear plugs, a t-shirt, patch, and poster, and our credentials. I only saw one sort of badge and grabbed it, but it turned out to be the incorrect one. The corner workers badge was blue and said “On Track Access”. The crowd control badge was green and said “Trackside Access”. I grabbed the blue one in error.

I was in CC 11, which was the western end of the driveway for Tamarack townhouses on Carriage Way. Corner 12 was directly across the street, and Chad was posted at the driveway next to them. And the porta-pottie was there.

It’s a fairly steep uphill section. I first see the cars below me, to my left, as they exit an off-camber right turn. They’re wide open throttle from there until they reach my position, where they enter a braking zone for the left hander above me on my right. It’s my job to keep people behind the tape and stopping anybody from exiting the driveway. I was to keep them the double-taped areas entirely.

They say “three is a crowd”. That’s about what it was for me. I only had to deal with one car, a bicyclist, and a few pedestrians all day. When the track was open to traffic, I’d stand at the top of the driveway. One of the corner workers at 11 said if he was driving, he’d want to put his right front tire right where I was standing. The instructions were to keep people thirty feet back, which I paced out to be at a seam in the asphalt. An easy reference point.

I put myself a few feet up toward the track. Through some trees, I could see the cars slide into view at the bottom of the hill. The cars roar up the hill and pass my driveway. I’m standing a few feet below the road, so the cars go by at eye level. There are three classes: small bore, big bore, and open wheel. When the big bore V-8’s blast up the hill it’s a very visceral sensation. I’m not particularly a V-8 fan, but there’s no denying the spectacle.

I have so little to do when the track is open that I spend a fair amount of time across the street visiting with Chad and our corner workers. They aren’t RMVR regulars, but were in town with the Porsche club who had an event on Saturday. They were a hoot. He wore the radio headset all the time and couldn’t hear us well. He clearly operated on the principle that if he couldn’t hear us, we couldn’t hear him, so he tended to yell a lot.

The corner workers were on a different channel than crowd control. Ours was almost non-stop chatter of about three stations up at the paddock and grid. A litany of “I’m sending one down, a white F-150” or “Three down, the last one a green Mazda” and once a “UPS coming down.” I did get to make call one time to say some people were in front of the tape at a station below me.

Our corner workers kept us informed. He’d signal five minutes to track closing. When the track was open, cars could go one way, counter to the race direction. We closed the track when a police car would pass us, making eye contact with each volunteer and announcing that the track was closing. He’d come by again after the session and the track would be open.

Early on, there was nearly a coming together right in front of me in the small bore group. One car catching another, got a bit unsettled by getting a bit of curb, came within inches of the car in front. That said, the event was fairly accident free. A BMW hit a barrier lightly, causing some front fender damage. A Mercury Comet was said to have caught fire, and somebody hit a hay bale.

The morning was gorgeous, and the time passed fairly quickly. After lunch, though, was a different story. Clouds had been accumulating. We had a short shower and later got hit with a bit of a downpour. We even had sixty or ninety seconds of light hail. A session for the big bores started in the dry but encountered a moderate shower. Only one of the cars had windshield wipers, but it didn’t seem to slow them down much. Then lightning was reported seven or eight miles away.

We stopped the race and they brought the truck around and picked us all up, drove us to a covered area where we waited for the storm to pass. Of course, to get back to our position with one-way traffic, we got to go around the whole course. From my place, I could also see a downhill section of Bush Creek Road. I was wondering why they weren’t going faster. Turns out there were several hay bale chicanes.

This interruption broke the flow of things; seemed to make the day longer, forced a recalibration of the schedule. Entropy set in a bit, instructions were announced, then quickly countermanded. Still, given the circumstances everything went off without any major issues.

It was raining again before Robert came by in the van to collect us after the last race. Everybody reconvened in the room we had our morning meetings and we had a beer. Then it was off to dinner. We took the gondola from the hotel down to the restaurant. We rode with the BMW driver who hit one of the barriers. He showed us a photo; the damage didn’t look to bad, but that’s easy for me to say.

They had closed the restaurant for us and we packed the place. Chad and I were among the first to arrive. Nobody asked for our tickets, other than the guy at the door who was curious what they looked like. I had the pulled pork, corn bread, and raisin coleslaw.

I had a good time, really enjoyed the day. I talked to a couple of locals who said the village was more crowded than usual for this time of year – summer over, but the aspen not yet turned. They enjoyed seeing the cars and said they thought it was a successful event. If they do it again next year, I think I’ll volunteer again.

RMVR/RAKC

Saturday, July 29

It’s that time of year again, when Rocky Mountain Vintage Racers do their big event and raise money for the Race Against Kids’ Cancer, benefiting the Morgan Adams Foundation.

On the road to the track, it was overcast and cool, and a few raindrops fell on me. I was looking forward to a cool day. It was not to be. At the track the sun was shining brightly through scattered clouds, and it was warm and muggy.

My contribution to the event involves giving rides during the lunch hour. It’s called ‘Ticket to Ride’, and people donate $50, $100, or $250 for a ride, depending on the car. A couple years ago I was a $100 car. This year I’ve been demoted to a $50 car, which is where I figured I should be, given the other cars that were there.

Photo courtesy Mike Rogers, Driven Imagery

This year the goal is to raise $150,000 that will be used to purchase a machine called an IncuCyte ZOOM. It’s used by cancer researchers in the Pediatric Brain Tumor Research Program. Just before I went on track, Heike came out of race control and chatted with me a bit while I was lined up waiting to get into pit lane. She said they had already exceeded their target. It gives me a bit of a “warm fuzzy” to be able to contribute, even just a little.

The program says people are buying three laps: out lap, fast lap, and in lap. I did this year what I did last year, and ran a second fast lap. I asked them all if they wanted to do that extra lap, and the all gave me the thumbs up. Sometimes we got stuck for a while behind slower cars, so I felt that was a good excuse to put in that second lap.

I gave four rides. My first rider was a kid who could barely see out the windshield. You can’t even see his helmet in the video. My second rider, maybe 20 years old, told me the Elise was his childhood dream car. Third and fourth riders were grid girls. They get free rides. The first girl screamed a lot. It was her first time in a car on track. At first I thought they might be cries of terror but she kept giving me two thumbs up. The second grid girl had just gotten a ride in a BMW.

The first thing I did when I got out of the car was turn off the cameras. The rear mounted one wasn’t running. It was powered up but not recording. I was sure I had pressed the shutter. The battery wasn’t dead, and the memory card was empty when I started so I’m not sure why it stopped. My lap timer recorded for 54 minutes, I got 54 minutes on the front facing camera, but only 44 minutes on the rear one. Seems like it’s always something. If my major malfunction for the day is losing 9 minutes of video it’s a good day.

Each year, the array of cars running lunch laps gets more interesting. This year, Kent brought his BMW i8. There was a 2006 Ford GT, a fully race prepared Aston Martin Vantage, an Ariel Atom, a Porsche Carrera GT, a Subaru rally car, and an assortment of 911s, a Corvette, a recent Mustang, and a 350Z. A few of the RMVR racers had passenger seats, and these ran as well: a classic Mustang and Firebird, and an old MG. Ralph Schomp BMW brought out a bunch of BMWs and Minis. I was the only Lotus today.

With Tanner Foust. It looks like I’ve been sucking on a lemon.

This is the seventh year RMVR is doing this. This is the fourth time I’ve driven the lunch laps. The whole event seems to get bigger each year. I think this is the second or third year they’re doing a Pro-Am race. This years pro drivers include Alex Figge, Nick Ham, Robb Holland, Robby Unser, Randy Pobst, Tanner Foust, and a couple of others. One of the others is a guy called Paul Gerrard, who was The Stig for the American version of Top Gear.

Last year, after we were done giving laps, we drivers were treated to a lunch and plenty of cold beverages. I looked around but didn’t see where to go. I was hungry and thirsty so I bought a burger and soda and sat in the pavilion and ate. While I was eating, William came by and told me he had gotten a ride with Randy Pobst. William told him he wanted to learn something, so Pobst kept up a running commentary of how to get around the track, all the while going at a pretty good clip. William particularly wanted to see Pobst’s footwork, but said taking his eyes off the track made him a bit queasy.

About half way through my burger I saw where the lunch drivers were congregating. I didn’t need any more to eat, but certainly could do with some more hydration so when I finished my burger, I went over and joined the crowd.

The driver of the Ford GT was there. I needed to apologize to him. He was going quite slow and I needed to pass him a couple of times. The first time was between turns 2 and 3. I was sure he pointed me by on his right but before I was around him he was moving toward me. He was pretty casual about it. It looks pretty close to me on the video. Rather than pointing me by, he was putting his fist in the air, which signals he’s going into the pits. That was inappropriate here, we were nowhere near the track exit. Fortunately, I passed him pretty quickly and there was no drama. In viewing the video, I see that he was always using this gesture.

I grabbed my second bottle of water and a tiny square of dessert and took a seat. I was with Foust and Pobst and a few other guys. It didn’t take long to figure out that they were the pros. It turned out to be Ham, Figge, and Holland, but nobody was using any names. Robb Holland and I finally introduced ourselves to each other in the end, but I didn’t know who they were until later. I had it pretty well narrowed down, but didn’t know which names went with which faces.

I would say that I spent an hour chatting with them. It may be difficult to believe, but I didn’t say much. I just listened. It started with somebody asking Foust if he was going to watch the new season of Top Gear, which led to him to talking a bit about his time working on the show. He said it was one hundred fifty days of work a year, and the days were long with every hour planned. He said nobody on the show knew who the Stig was except whoever wrote the paychecks. He knew who it was, though, as he knew Paul and helped get him the job. When he was on the set he never spoke and didn’t shake hands with anybody. But sometimes Paul would show up for dinner on shooting days, “just coincidentally” in the area. Nobody ever suspected he was the Stig.

Foust got up and left after a while. The rest of the guys kept chatting. They had all raced against each other for years, sometimes as teammates. They were waxing nostalgic. “Remember that time at Miller where my car broke?” “And mine broke at the same time and I parked behind you?” “And the time you had that crash at Miller.” “That was a bad one, but the crash in Detroit was the worst.” I could have listened to them for the rest of the day.

I wonder how many of the pros were on track while I was doing laps. William tells me that only a couple were doing lunch laps, but that many of the others were out with their Pro-Am partners testing the cars. I know Pobst was driving the Focus and I did see a couple of the Schomp Minis in and out of the pits. Although I was running laps with five or six or seven pro drivers, I don’t think I passed or was passed by any of them.

I’m a big football fan but I’ve never had the delusion that I could ever do what Joe Montana or Terrell Davis could do. I was never going to throw a perfect spiral fifty yards down the field while stepping up in the pocket, facing a safety blitz or catch a screen pass in the flat and go the distance. I also don’t have the delusion that I could do what Michael Schumacher or Lewis Hamilton could do. But I can watch a sports car race or a touring car race and imagine doing it, and doing it well. Sure, it’s a delusion too. But I just ran a bunch of laps on a race track with a half dozen accomplished professionals and never got passed. My delusion survives intact!

And I think it’s pretty cool that I got to see some pretty cool cars get out on the race track.

I had a really good time.

Race Against Kids Cancer

Saturday was day one of Rocky Mountain Vintage Racers big weekend at High Plains Raceway. One of the objects of the event was to raise a bunch of money for the Morgan Adams Foundation “Race Against Kids Cancer” to buy a flow cytometer, whatever that is.

One of the many ways of generating cash was to sell rides in cars during the lunch hour. Rides were available at the $200, $100, and $40 level. For $200 you get to ride in a race car. Those were fairly limited as not many of the race cars have passenger seats. The forty dollar ride was in a “guest car”. I figured that would include me. Rides were an out lap, fast lap, and in lap.

I’ve done lunch laps a couple times before. There are two basic types – fast laps with corner workers or parade laps behind a pace car. This was more of a mix – helmets were required, but other passenger attire rules (long sleeves, long pants, no open toed shoes) were waived. Also, kids under 18 were allowed. Grid girls got a free ride in a $100 car, and corner workers also got free rides. I had six passengers – four who made contributions, a grid girl, and a corner worker.

I got there a bit before 11 thinking I’d need to get an inspection after checking in, and I wanted enough time to grab a bite to eat as well. I found the booth where they were selling the rides and they pointed me to one of the carports where I signed in and got my wrist band. Turns out I didn’t need an inspection. After I ate I stuck fairly close to the pavilion. Schomp BMW had several cars there, which turned out to be lunch lap cars too.

The races were running a bit late so we didn’t grid up until about 12:30. This was in the pit lane rather than where we grid up for club days. One of the grid workers said a few words to each driver. He told me I was a $100 car and was lined up in the proper place. That was a pleasant surprise. I was sure I was a $40 car – most of the cars gridded up were faster and much more expensive. Chalk another one up to the Elise’s drop-dead good looks!

Photo by William Taylor, Coterie Press

Photo by William Taylor, Coterie Press

I asked each rider if they wanted to go fast. They all said “yes”. Of course they did, that’s pretty much the object of the game. But I don’t know that they really have the same idea of fast as I do. I’m guessing most of them had never been on a track before. I’m going to enter corners twice as fast as many of them have ever experienced. Most of them obviously enjoyed it. But I wonder if I freaked out the kid a bit. He was too short to brace himself with his feet. I’m belted in with a CG lock, but I don’t have one for the passenger. He got tossed around a fair amount, and I’m not sure how well he could see.

On track days cars get released from the grid several seconds apart. Here you made your way out whenever you got somebody strapped in. With my first passenger we were in a line of cars fairly close together. A Porsche GT-2 and a BMW flew past us half way down the highway straight. I didn’t wave the second BMW through, but he passed me at the last moment. I admit I took more than a little pleasure knowing he shouldn’t have done it. His acceleration and top speed weren’t much better than mine, but he missed apexes and had to brake much earlier than me. He let me by less than a lap later, in turn 2.

Due to the lax attire rules, the grid girls all got rides. Luckily, I had the top off. They were leggy and wore high heels and form fitting outfits that barely covered their bottoms. My rider managed to ingress and egress without major loss of dignity. I chatted with her briefly afterwards. She made two observations. First, she couldn’t help but notice that while she was wearing what she was wearing, I was dressed head to toe in a fire resistant suit. And second, when we were going down the highway straight I pointed out a truck carrying a wind turbine blade. She felt I should have been keeping my eyes on the track. That’s about the only place on the track I can relax!

2014-08-02 14.13.16sWhen I was hanging around the pavilion before getting on the track, there was a giant pickup truck nearby. At one point there was another truck of the same model and year parked next to it. Quite a size difference. So on the way out I had to get next to it for a picture. It’s just a few inches too low for me to drive under.

This video is a bit longer than I usually post – just short of 11 minutes, and it only includes one lap. A good time was had by all. I got to run 17 laps (6 out, 6 in, 5 flying) for free and got a bit of a “warm fuzzy” for helping out a charity.

Epilog

Today I received an email reporting that RMVR raised $137,000. I think their goal was $87,000, so it’s great they exceeded it by a good margin.