Every year in September, Lotus Ltd., the national club for Lotus owners, holds the Lotus Owners Gathering, or LOG. Historically, Lotus Ltd. has been, shall we say, East Coast-centric. Since I’ve been in the club, I think only four LOGs have been west of the Mississippi. Meanwhile, the Golden Gate Lotus Club and other clubs hold a West Coast Lotus Meet (WCLM), generally every other year, also around this time. As long as I’ve had the Lotus, I’ve had the sense that the two organizations may have had issues other than geographic.
It may be that relations have thawed. The title of this post does not have a typo. This year’s get-together is the Lotus United Gathering, which is what you get when Lotus Ltd. and the Golden Gate Lotus Club work together. This does not mean we won’t have both a LOG and a WCLM in the same year. The United States is a big place, and it takes a special kind of maniac to want to drive these cars three or four thousand miles (or more) in a week.
For LUG 2026, the setting is the same as LOG 40: Salt Lake City. On tap for the trip are a drive to Helper, UT for our concours; a drive to a “ghost” town (which I saw last time, so I’ll replace with an alternate); a “funkhana” (a low-speed, light-hearted obstacle course); a track day; and, on the drive home, a hike to Hanging Lake near Glenwood Springs.
Thursday, September 24
My phone’s navigation app likes to mess with me. In Death Valley, it had me going down a dirt road in the dark. It wants me to take shortcuts to bypass towns, so I miss all the restaurants and gas stations. In Missouri, it flat-out lied to me. It said the nearest gas station was 19 miles away, but at the next stop sign, I spotted one a quarter of a mile down the crossroad. I hate interstates, so I often set it to avoid highways. It directed me to a ferry across the Ohio River that operated twice a day. Once, in Tennessee, when I was on the Interstate, in a Biblical rainstorm, it had me exit the Interstate and drive a seven-mile loop, only to get back on the Interstate at the same exit1. I don’t know what I did to piss it off.
Today I decided I’d put in the address of the hotel and hit Start, then ignore whatever it said for half the day. I know it’ll want me to take I-25 to I-80, and that’s the last route I want to take. My plan was I-70 to Silverthorne, then CO 9 to US 40. I wondered how long the app would keep telling me to turn around. It gave up around Colfax. In response, it sent me, and, seemingly, dozens of other cars, on a detour around congestion on the Interstate. It took me four cycles to get through one stoplight. I’d have rather stayed on I-70. Yeah, yeah, I should have ignored it like I said I would.
Colorado Highway 9 passes by Green Mountain Reservoir. There isn’t any water in it. I don’t mean it was low. The only water in it was a largish puddle at the dam. After the junction with US 40 in Kremmling, the road passes Wolford Mountain Reservoir. This is also dry. It’s not uncommon over the years to see reservoirs quite low; this was shocking.
By now, I had finally bent the navigation app to my will2. Almost. It tried to pull the “shortcut around the town” stunt in Vernal and cheat me out of lunch. This great time-saving manoeuvre was not a time-saver because two oversized loads blocked the intersection for three cycles of the light. When I could finally make a right turn on red to grab a sandwich at Jimmy John’s, I sent the navigator app into a paroxysm of rerouting beeps.
At Duchesne, the unexpected happened. Navigator sent me onto Utah routes to bypass Strawberry and Heber City; backroads to within a few miles of I-80. Utah Route 35 is a lovely road with sweeping turns, almost no traffic, and pleasant mountain scenery. At one point, I came across a herd of sheep on the road, directed by three dogs, but no human I could see. The dogs had their charges across the road in no time.
Back in civilization, in Kamas, I came within a hundred yards of joining a group of Lotus, but my low fuel light came on, and I stopped to refuel. I gassed up in Kremmling, 338 miles earlier. It was only another 38 miles to the hotel. I’d have made it with more than a gallon left in the tank – I got 41.3 miles to the gallon on that tank.
Good fuel economy despite the car not running quite right. In the wake of the engine swap, I was getting occasional check engine lights for misfire codes. Last week, Michael and I replaced the spark plugs and ignition coils. But now the misfires are no longer occasional. The idle is very rough, but it never stalled. And at low RPMs, the misfire was quite noticeable.
I pulled into the hotel parking lot a few minutes after 5, a bit over nine hours of travel time. I got checked in with the hotel and got checked in with LUG, just in time to have dinner and a couple of beers with other Lotus enthusiasts.
In its defense, it was the most intense part of the storm, and I pulled into a parking lot for a few minutes when it started to hail. The Interstate would have been crazy, so the detour was a good thing. ↩︎
Not really. By now, this was the only route option until close to SLC. ↩︎
Lotus Ltd. is the national Lotus owners club. Each year, a local chapter hosts the Lotus Owners Gathering, or LOG. LOGs often include autocross or track days. There is a Concours d’Elegance, technical sessions, organized scenic drives in the area, and dinners with notable and interesting guest speakers. LOG 43 was held in Austin, TX.
We made a left turn off the main road and went up a narrow lane. This was the end of one map segment and the start of another. My phone, mounted at arm’s length, displayed a dialog box: end trip or continue? I can’t take my eyes off the road, and working from memory as much as sight, stabbed at what I thought was “Continue”. After a few seconds, the phone went dark. Dang.
I was second to last in the train. I hadn’t seen the front of the line in quite some time. The M100 Elan was behind me, and I was following two Esprits, one red, one black. The M100 had been tail-end Charlie all day, not always able to comfortably keep up with the crowd. The two Esprits are generally more interested in viewing the scenery than ripping through it. Still, they accelerated up and over a small hill. I lagged a bit, hoping to see the Elan make the turn. But I had to either keep up, or find a place to stop and reset navigation. So I caught the Esprits.
This is the second day of our drive, and yesterday we drove 550 miles. It was warm, and I have no A/C. I’d really like to relax. I never got the route book. On the first morning, I got the route for the phone, but I didn’t have time to preview it. I have been over many of the roads we’d be taking, but not all. I didn’t know we were taking a “spirited” detour. I would have skipped it and just gone to the hotel.
I followed the Esprits for quite a while. The road was narrow, bumpy, twisty, and had many driveways for the large properties. The road dropped precipitously for stream crossings, then rose abruptly, then repeated in the next little valley. These crossings are designed to allow water to flow over them in high water conditions. They’re concrete culverts, crenellated, and not high above the creekbeds. Crossing these carrying any speed compresses the suspension, and the surface changes from rough road to smoother concrete. You have to be careful.
I wasn’t comfortable running fast on this road and I was surprised the Esprits both kept it up. We weren’t going super fast – we caught a pickup truck, but he was moving pretty quickly himself. About when I decided to pull over and plot navigation directly to the hotel, we came to a T-intersection. The red Esprit went left, black went right, then pulled over. I followed black, who waved me by. Instead, I parked behind them and worked the phone.
When I looked up, black was gone. I caught up a couple of minutes later. We ran at a sensible speed for some minutes and came to another T-intersection. We parted ways there, them to the left, me to the right. I laughed when I saw them right behind me a couple of miles from the hotel.
We learned later that there were two incidents that we missed. One was our friend the red Esprit. Crossing one of these streams, they hit one of the crenellations and bent a wheel. The other was more serious, I am told. At the same place, a yellow Evora met with disaster. No injuries, but scuttlebutt suggests the car was totalled.
I’ve never organized a club drive, at least not for more than three cars. I have participated in dozens of club drives – one day drives, weekend drives. We’ve had our share of mechanical issues but never any accidents. I’d be mortified if anything like this happened on a drive I led. I think that back road was a poor route choice, given how long everybody had been driving.
I was at the back of the pack, going a bit faster than I wanted to go. I enjoy the back roads. I drive them all the time. I enjoy the scenery, I drive down the main streets of dozens of small towns. I see the sights. I’m fine going 5-7 mph over the posted limit. I don’t want to be that guy in the sports car. I like driving my car fast, but I know what “fast” is and I know I can’t do it on the highway.
They were washing cars in the hotel garage. I got in line. A couple of other LoCos were there too. I “brag” all the time that my car is always the dirtiest in the group, so I caught a little grief for getting it washed. Later, I went up to the restaurant on the top floor for drinks, hors d’oeuvres, and conversation. I generally try to meet folks who haven’t heard all my stories, but I was with other LoCos. This is when I heard about the day’s unfortunate incidents.
Saturday morning was the Concours d’Elegance and group photo. These are always an exercise in cat herding to some degree. Organizing the movements of over a hundred vehicles is never simple, but this one involved a 32 mile drive from the hotel to a park on the banks of the Colorado River in Marble Falls. There was some attempt at getting photographs from a Tesla mounted with robots and using a drone to shoot us crossing over a bridge. We were given lots of instructions about hand signals from the Tesla, but I’m guessing only the first few cars in the train were involved in that.
When we got to the park, they sorted us by model. I got a lot of questions about the damage to the clam. For quite a while, until some stragglers arrived, I was the only BRG Elise there. There are always other green Elises. In the end, there were three: two BRG and one metallic. They guy I was parked next to, David, has 178,000 miles on his. His was pristine compared to mine. There were several cars there with stickers for as many tracks as I’ve been to. Even without the giant tape-covered hole in my front clam, my car has the most “patina”. It is very much the beater of the show.
Emiras and Elises
All in a row
“We can put a passenger seat in it, but it won’t carry many groceries.”
Elans
Afterwards, Kevin and I had lunch with a couple of the other guys at the River City Grill, a short walk from the park. While eating I watched the occasional jet-skier stooging around on the river. It was a warm day, and I was happy drinking an iced tea in the air conditioning.
Back at the hotel, I dealt with a couple of errors and omissions. Every trip, I play a game of “what did I forget?” This time it was my tech sheets for the track days. Michael scanned and emailed them to me. I got them printed out, then met Kevin upstairs for drinks.
For dinner, I had the $63 chicken. Tonight’s speaker was automotive journalist Sam Smith. He’s been writing about cars for twenty years, was executive editor at Road & Track for a while. He’s driven just about every interesting car over that time, has done some racing, some television, and so on. It’s not surprising that he owned a Lotus for a while, an Elan. His talk was pretty well-suited to the audience. Preaching to the choir, you might say.
Sunday was a day running laps at Circuit of the Americas. This was put on by Chin Track Days and was not the official LOG 43 track day. A number of us couldn’t resist the pull of driving on a Formula One track.
Sunday night’s dinner was pork. Both dinners included cheesecake for dessert. It’s strictly off the diet, but I enjoyed both of them anyway. Sunday’s speaker was Russell Carr, head of design for Lotus for the last decade or so. After he gave his talk, he took questions from the audience. He worked on the Emira, Evija, Eletre, and Emeya. I’d never heard of the last one. The Emira is out of my price range, the Evija is out of nearly everyone’s price range, and the Eletre is an SUV and so does not interest me. The Emeya is a 4-door. There are many design elements common across the line, and he went through the design decisions behind them. I found it quite interesting.
On Monday, we went to Harris Hill Raceway for the LOG 43 track day.
For the trip back home, I was concerned about time, so I let the phone pick my route. I knew I wouldn’t be spending a ton of time on Interstates, so didn’t select the “no highways” option. I needed to get as far down the road as possible to make Tuesday a reasonable day, so I knew I’d be driving at night, violating another of my rules. On top of that, I’m running with only one headlight now, so I wanted to be as close as possible to my overnight destination. Last time I drove home from Austin, I stayed in Snyder. This time I opted for Abilene, about an hour closer to Austin. Still, if I stayed for my last track session at 4:30, I’d be driving until after 10. So I did what I seldom do: skipped some track time.
I ended up driving in the dark for an hour and a quarter. In that time, my windshield collected more bugs than the entire drive to Austin. I don’t know why so many bugs, but by the time I got to the hotel, vision was a real problem.
There are a few trees around the entrance to the hotel. I don’t know anything about birds. Birds in my yard get quiet after dark, except for owls, which aren’t in my yard very often. The birds in these trees weren’t owls, and they weren’t quiet. I wasn’t getting the full Alfred Hitchcock The Birds vibe, but I thought it was strange. I asked the desk clerk what kind of birds they are. She didn’t know. When I park, I prefer end spots. I nearly made the big mistake of parking in the end spot under one of the trees. Somebody parked their pickup truck there. I don’t know how clean it was when they parked it, but it was covered with birdshit in the morning.
Much of the drive home was on four-lane divided highways, some Interstate, some US routes. I found the Interstate parts fairly miserable. Way too much traffic. On these four-lane stretches, I kept coming across what I call “left-laniacs”, people who can’t seem to see the signs that say, “Keep right except to pass” or the Texas version, “Left lane for passing only”. They cruise for mile after mile in the left lane. Half a dozen times, I’d slowly reel one of these in only to have them switch to the right lane just as I catch them, making me change lanes to go around them. They’ve been in the left lane all day, why move out just when I catch up to them?
Texas isn’t my favorite state to drive through. Parts of west Texas make Kansas and Nebraska downright scenic in comparison.
When I got to Dumas, I had the choice of going straight north on US 287 (through Oklahoma and eastern Colorado) or heading west on US 87 (into New Mexico and up I-25). I prefer the latter, even though it’s more Interstate. But it would have taken me about half an hour longer, and I was past ready to get home. US 287 gets quite a bit of truck traffic. More truck traffic, I think, than any non-Interstate highway I’ve been on. Luckily, the road is fundamentally straight and flat and has a fair number of passing lanes, so it’s easy to pass.
Before I left home on this trip, I was telling people that I expected to get as much as 42 miles per gallon at some point. The drive down wasn’t exactly an economy run. On the way back, I set my pace to be about 5 mph over the limit, and speed limits in Texas are higher, so my revs were up a bit. The closest I got was 39.7 mpg. I still think 42 mpg is possible.
Over the six days of this trip, I drove 2,080 miles on streets, roads, and highways and 234 on the track for a grand total of 2,314 miles.
The route back was the same as the route there, with two exceptions. I drove to Heber City via I-80 and US 191 instead of the slow, scenic route through the park. And on the other end, I took US 40 from Kremmling to Granby and over Berthoud Pass rather than through Silverthorne and the Eisenhower tunnel.
When I was just about to Heber City, I realized that I’d left my LOG 35 cap in the hotel room. I can picture it exactly as I left it: right next to the room phone, with a cloth mask in it. I called the hotel when I got home, but they say housekeeping didn’t find anything.
Coming over Rabbit Ears Pass, I encountered a few cars that were running in the Colorado Grand. The first one was an early Porsche. I don’t know that I’d have spotted him if he hadn’t waved at me. Next was a red Ferrari. There was a yellow one, I didn’t get a good look at it, could have been a Morgan. Finally, a Mercedes I think was lost. He was at the stop sign at the junction with CO 14 and pulled out and followed me. All the other guys were going the other way. He turned around before he went too far.
The drive from Kremmling to Granby was new to me. Byers Canyon is nice, if a little short.
I was pleasantly surprised throughout the day that the truck traffic was considerably less than on Friday. Auto traffic was pretty bad from Granby to home, exacerbated by showers from Winter Park to Golden. I didn’t actually get rained on until Idaho Springs or so, but all of Berthoud Pass was wet, and the cars kicked up a lot of spray. I’d say it improved when I caught up to the rain, but then puddles made me a little nervous.
My trip home took about half an hour less than Friday’s drive.
So that’s the story.
Now, two final thoughts.
Where Did the Oil Go?
Michael figured it out right away when I told him what Dave and TJ said. Dave and TJ would have figured it out had I thought to tell them that we did an engine swap over the winter.
Of course, the cooler and lines drained when we pulled the old motor out. So they’re empty. When we filled the new engine with oil, it didn’t fill the cooler because the thermostat was closed. It doesn’t open until I put it under “track conditions”, whatever that means. When it opens, the cooler fills with oil and we’re suddenly two or two and a half quarts low.
The problem with that theory is that when I put one quart of oil into the car, I was able to run a 12 lap session and get 3 laps in another session before having the problem again. I guess that means there was an air bubble in the cooler that didn’t come out until the heat from the 12 lap session worked it out.
Which only leads to the next problem: this was not my first track day after the engine swap.
I’ve done 4 track days at HPR. Not a lot of laps: 90 laps over 12 sessions. One day was a Thursday Evening event, one was a half-day in April, one “session” was the RMVR Ticket to Ride. And the Ferrari day. How did I run 90 laps at HPR and not put it under “track conditions”?
Things that make you go “hmmmm”.
I have now put three quarts of oil in and all is good. If I was half a quart low when I left the house and the cooler uses two and a half, that’s the three. I’m reasonably certain I’m good to go now, but I won’t know until the next time I take it to the track. (And maybe not even then.)
I never put more than a quart in at a time to get the dipstick to read full or nearly full. I’m assuming that I went from full to a quart low in an instant on the track, when I could get on the high cam one moment but not the next. The distance driven at a quart low was fairly limited and at low revs.
I’ve done more than fifty track days and I’ve never had any need for brake fluid or motor oil. Needed both in one day.
LOG 40 Reflections
The pandemic took a bit of a toll on this LOG. It was supposed to happen last year, but we all know what happened. Some things just couldn’t be overcome, like the travel restrictions. I was looking forward to seeing the speakers live. I hoped to see the Evija and the Emira. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed.
I often get lazy and refer to “the Lotus club”. But really, the cars are the excuse to meet people. It’s not a club of cars, it’s a club of people who share a passion for cars.
I met quite a few really nice people. How’s that not a good time?
I repeat: I met quite a few really interesting, accomplished, nice people. I had a great time, even if it wasn’t perfect.
I wouldn’t say that I attend LOG for the track day, but I can say I don’t think I’ll attend a LOG that doesn’t have a track day.
Utah Motorsports Campus is the seventeenth track I’ve driven, in the ninth different state.
The facilities are top-notch. Of the tracks I’ve been to, only COTA has better. In many ways, this is COTA but on a smaller scale. The garages are just as nice, only smaller. The meeting rooms are just as nice, but smaller and fewer. It has a go-kart track, an off-road track (with a giant jump). There’s a restaurant and a clubhouse. The parking lot is enormous.
As for the track, it has four configurations: East Course, West Course, Outer Course, and Full Course. We ran the Outer Course, which is 15 turns in just a bit over 3 miles. It’s not billiard table flat, but there’s not more than a couple of meters of elevation change. It’s fast: there are no second gear turns. For the most part, you don’t have to worry about hitting anything if you go off.
We were asked to arrive at the track by 8:00 so everybody could get checked in in time for an 8:45 drivers meeting. I left the hotel at 7 and was parked in the paddock promptly at 8.
I’ve been in a lot of drivers meetings. This one was perhaps the least polished. Polished or not, all the important information was covered. The four or five instructors introduced themselves then the lead instructor started running through the topics. At times, he’d falter a bit and one of the other instructors would jump in and complete the thought or provide something the others had missed.
There were a couple of things that were out of the ordinary. First, everybody got out on track and followed the instructors around a very slow lap. At the end of it, we parked in rows of three with the first row at the start/finish line. An interesting and unusual photo opportunity.
Another unusual facet for me was that we never really used the paddock. Typically, we all empty our cars, placing our things adjacent to our parking places in the paddock. Today, we all unloaded our stuff into one of the garages and parked our cars on pit road. We could park anywhere along here when not on the track as we didn’t need to park near our stuff. And it was quicker and easier to get on and off the track. The relatively small number of cars made this possible. I can’t see it working with 60 or more cars. (I didn’t get a car count, but it was only about three dozen, including the instructors’ cars.)
The advanced/intermediate group was out first. I found myself behind our ghost town drive leader, Speedy Gonzalez. Turns 5 and 6 are the slowest. Not 2nd gear slow, but nearly. Speedy Gonzalez got to turn 6 and spun out. I was saving my camera batteries for later in the day, so I didn’t get it on video. Back in the pits, I asked one of the guys what happened. This is “hearsay evidence”, so not admissible in court, but I’m told he said that he “ran out of talent” in turn 6 and blamed cold tires. You’d think, after racing Formula Fords for hundreds of hours, he’d come up with an excuse that wasn’t the crutch of novices.
I cut my first session short. I was getting a brake warning light in some of the left turns. I needed to top off my brake fluid. I asked around and found a gentleman from North Carolina who kindly donated some to me. I’m sorry I didn’t get his name, but I really appreciated it.
In the paddock, before we moved to the pits
Start/finish photo opp
Lined up on pit road
Smoking Evora
Stricken 2-Eleven
Obligatory action shot
I also cut my second session short. After a few laps, I started getting the rev limiter at 6000 rpm. Back in the pits, I tracked down Dave Simkin and TJ, who hooked their laptop up to my car. They quickly ruled out two or three possibilities and theorized I was low on oil. TJ checked the dipstick: it was dry. The switchover to the high cam is activated by oil pressure. Insufficient oil, no cam. I checked my oil before I left the house and it was okay. How am I a quart (or more) low?
To remedy my problem, I needed to make a trip into town. There’s an auto parts store about ten miles away, so off I went. I bought a quart of oil, poured it in, and now the dipstick showed oil almost to the top mark.
On the way back to the track, I decided to stop at the gas station in town to top off the tank. The pump wouldn’t accept my Discover card so I tried a Visa. Still no joy. A bit frustrated, I hopped back in the car and left. When I got back to the track, I noticed that I hadn’t closed the fuel filler door. And saw that I didn’t have my gas cap. Clearly, in my frustration, I forgot to put it back on. I’d driven off with the cap sitting on top of the car. So off I went, back to town, to find my missing cap. Luckily, someone had found it and given it to the cashier. Each trip to town was about half an hour lost.
When I got back to the track, my group was already on the track, so I quickly put my helmet on and joined the session. Each session was supposed to be thirty minutes. As I had cut my first two sessions short, I still hadn’t seen a checkered flag. In this session, when I saw that I’d done 12 laps, I knew I was well over the half-hour session length. By the time I was back in the pits, I was 14 minutes late. I never saw a checkered flag (which would have been shown to me at three different places), so I’m guessing they weren’t that strict about who was on track when. I never did see the checkered flag all day. But I get ahead of myself.
Anyway, all was good. A few minutes after the hour, I went back out. After 4 or 5 laps, I began having the limiter problem again. When I stopped back in the pits, the dipstick was dry again. Where is all the oil going? I’m not burning it; I’m not putting out any smoke at all. I’m not leaking it; there’s never a fresh drop of anything under the car, and a quart of oil would certainly overflow the undertray. And it’s not getting in the coolant, as the overflow tank is its usual pinkish color. Where’s the oil going?
I had no choice but to call it quits.
The instructors were giving rides. There were four Evora GTs we could ride in, but I’ve already driven an Evora on the track. One guy, Jonathan, had his 2-Eleven there, so I asked if he’d give me a ride. I don’t know how heavily modified it is. He told me it puts out 330hp, so it’s not stock. The body also features a lot of carbon fiber. This made it interesting getting in and out, as it has no doors and you must climb over the top of the roll cage without stepping on any bodywork.
We got me all strapped in and started down pit road. At the entrance to the track, the steward reminded Jonathan that the novice session was on track and he should take appropriate care not to divebomb the newbies.
The car is pretty amazing. It’s not quite twice the horsepower of mine, and at least 400lbs lighter. He’s running slicks (Hoosier R7), naturally, and he’s done thousands of laps here. There weren’t many cars on track, so we had an open run. On our out lap, in turn 6, he missed the turn and we went wide. “OPR”, he said: other peoples’ rubber.
Next lap around, in turn 6 again, where we went straight the first time around (and where Speedy Gonzalez spun on his first lap), all hell broke loose. The engine stopped, which threw the car into a spin. Jonathan took his hands off the wheel (so he wouldn’t break a thumb), we went around twice and were in a cloud of tire smoke. He restarted and went a hundred yards down the track toward the next corner bunker, which was showing us the “meatball” flag. He pulled off the track and stopped the car. We were leaking oil. A lot of it. There was a slick from turn 6 to halfway between turns 7 and 8. There was oil inside the cockpit, in the right front wheel well, and all over the ground under the engine compartment.
The rescue truck was there very quickly and the tow truck was right on its heels. Jonathan described the incident to the rescue crew as they winched his car onto the flatbed. He rode in the towtruck, I went with the rescue crew. First, we went back to the site of the spin (driving the wrong way on the track, which I’ve never done before). Leaving there, we made our way back to the pits using some of the infield service roads. Oh, and this was the first (and hopefully last) time I got to ride in the rescue truck.
I felt bad for Jonathan. After having my day ended due to an oil issue, to be his passenger when he suffered a catastrophic oil failure, made me wonder if I was suffering some bad oil karma for some reason. I know his problem was in no way my fault, but I felt some guilt nonetheless.
The cleanup took 45 minutes. By the time the track was green again, there were only about a dozen cars left. Everybody still there got to run as much as they wanted in the last hour of the day as they stopped running by groups.
Just before I left, there was a bit more excitement. When they opened the track back up, a yellow Evora that had been parked for a couple of hours got started up. That produced a fairly big cloud of white smoke. It wasn’t clear to me if it was oil or coolant or something else.
I took this as a sign for me to make my exit and go back to the hotel.
I bought three more quarts of oil and put a quart and a half into the engine before the dipstick indicated it was full. Still no smoke, no drips, no contaminated coolant. Where did it go? I’ll just have to check the oil every time I make a stop on the way home.
Both there at the track and back in the hotel parking lot, I discussed my experience with several people. Everybody had a look under the car, both front and back (the oil cooler is in the front), checked out my coolant reservoir, and scratched their chins in wonder. Nobody had any ideas.
After dinner, I started packing the car with the idea of making an easier departure in the morning. While I was doing this, Dave and TJ came by and we discussed the situation. They said the oil coolers and lines held about two quarts, or maybe two and a half, they weren’t sure. They said the oil cooling system doesn’t operate except under track conditions. It sounded to me like they thought this would somehow explain it, but it still didn’t make sense to me.
I didn’t run enough laps to thoroughly learn the track; I know I could have picked up a few more seconds. Particularly, I know I can take turns 1 and 11 faster. That said, no Elise passed me. I did get passed by some Evoras, but most of those were instructor-driven. I got passed by the 2-Eleven and an instructor’s 911. And I got passed by a couple of Exiges and the V6 Cup car. I could only manage 118 on the long straight. It was so long I expected to be able to top 120. I am somewhat disappointed that I only ran half the number of laps I expected to, but so it goes. I think I acquitted myself well.
It was an interesting and unforgettable day, that’s for sure.
Tomorrow, hopefully, my trip home will not be so interesting.
Unless I want to leave the hotel, I’m pretty much limited to Starbucks. Luckily, they have more kinds of sandwiches than I’ll have mornings here, so no repeats are necessary. I sat down to eat my sandwich in front of the TV, which was showing the F1 race. I only missed the first ten laps. I’m so happy the cars have the halos. That halo saved Hamilton’s life, no doubt in my mind. The race kept me entertained until it was nearly time to meet for the guided group drive to the ghost town of Eureka City.
The fellow running the drive collected us in the lobby at 10. (I will refer to him from now on as Speedy Gonzales, SG for short.) He gave us a short description of Eureka City and talked about the historian who will meet us there. The museum is normally closed on Sundays, as is the restaurant, but both will be open for us. He then described the route. Somebody pointed out that his route doesn’t match the route that was published. Obviously, nobody was carrying paper and pencil, so nobody took notes. He told us, “You’ll just have to keep up.”
Exiting the hotel, I was near the end of the train, but at our first red light I switched from the center lane to the right lane. It wasn’t that I wanted to get to the front of the line but more that I didn’t want the line to be so long, people would miss the light. When the light turned green, I was third in line. A couple of miles later, we got on the interstate and were soon going quite fast. I use a speedometer app on my phone. It keeps track of driving time, total distance, average speed, and so on. It recorded a maximum speed of 98. This was on the interstate in south suburban SLC. I like to go fast, too, but that’s why I do the track day. I think we lost half the group within five minutes of leaving the hotel.
We exited the interstate and Bobbi pulled up next to me at the light. I hollered, “Does he know people are trying to follow him?” She replied, “I don’t think he gives a shit!” He didn’t make things any better when, shortly after getting on UT 68, he stopped for gas. The experienced drive leader will tell everybody to be gassed up when we meet or will arrange to meet at a gas station so folks can top off their tanks if needed. SG was the only one who needed to fill up, but I took advantage and made a comfort break and bought a beverage so it wasn’t a total waste.
When we were all ready to leave, a bunch of us LOCOs decided to make our own way and stayed at the gas station for a few minutes. Wayne was quite familiar with the area, so we put him in the lead. To our surprise, SG and the few cars that went with him were waiting for us on the side of the road not far from the station.
UT 68 goes south alongside the western shore of Utah Lake. It’s a fairly scenic drive, with a view of the lake and the Wasatch mountains behind it. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a salt lake, too. (I learn later that it’s a freshwater lake that is a bit saline because two-fifths of its outflow is evaporation.) Unfortunately, we were again going at a pretty good clip, not as fast as before, but still too fast to enjoy the scenery. It’s not a curvy road, but there are some bunny-hops that add a little lightness.
We stopped at the junction with US 6. We pulled into the parking lot of a defunct gas station. SG had mentioned the rustic ruins of a station where he had taken pictures of his car, but this didn’t look that photogenic to me. And we were all jammed in together, so I’m not sure what sort of photo one could get. In any event, nobody got out of their cars. We got going again, heading west on US 6. (On the return trip I think I figured it out: the rustic station was on the other side of US 6 from where we parked.)
Not long after, we arrived in Eureka City. It’s not what I’d call a “ghost town”. It has a population of about 700, has a nice new post office, a couple of restaurants, a museum, and a high school. And, driving around, we saw quite a few new or nearly new houses. When I think ghost town, I think nobody lives there. This, to me, seemed more like Central City before the gambling, without the tourists. A ghost of its former self, but not a ghost town.
We met our local historian who launched into his spiel. About ten minutes later, the cars we lost back at the start of the drive showed up. With everybody assembled, after a brief introduction, we followed him up the hill to one of the mines. We were parked everywhere. One of the homeowners invited six of us to park in his driveway.
The mine itself is sealed, looks like an unpaved parking lot now. There’s a tall stake in the middle, with a series of painted markings. “That tells us if it’s sinking.” The EPA did quite a bit of work here. They took the top eighteen inches of topsoil of every lot in town (if you can call it “topsoil”). Many of the old mine buildings are still standing, and still full of derelict equipment. He took us through one, the hoist building.
This held the machinery that ran the lifts to get the miners in and out of the mine. It was dark inside, too dark to shoot pictures with the SLR. The floor was covered with debris, lots of broken glass. In one area, everything looked to be covered with feathers. I don’t think it was feathers, though, because I didn’t see or smell any bird shit. Mostly it was just dusty.
It was quite interesting, so, in spite of the problematic drive down there, it was good in the end.
After the mine “tour”, we headed to the restaurant. Somehow, I managed to get there almost last. I was the second to last to get served. I had a raspberry shake, which is strictly off the diet. It was tasty, and I only ate half. I sat at a table with three other folks, a nice couple from Scottsdale and a doctor who lives in New York but had worked for a while in Denver. Nice folks.
Most folks went to the museum after eating, but by the time I was done, it was getting pretty late and I elected to pass on the museum. I wasn’t alone – our little LOCO breakaway group was still there. We let Wayne lead us back to the hotel. We weren’t going a million miles an hour, so I enjoyed the drive a bit more. We were a small group now; the most common car was the Evora, and all three were yellow.
Evora with “track pack”
Hoist room
Hoist room
Electrical machinery
Driving shot…
Tonight’s agenda at the hotel was a buffet dinner and a virtual tour through Classic Team Lotus.
The buffet was in the same room as last night’s banquet. I figured I’d just sit at the same table as last night, but the seating chart by the door was a bit different. I’m not sure it was the same chart. Did I miss seeing two of these things? My table from last night was full tonight, so I looked for another table that had some open slots. Again, I wasn’t carrying a writing utensil, so couldn’t write my name in the appropriate blank.
I found myself sitting next to Richard and his wife, Sandy, who I visited with last night. After I sat down, a couple came in and claimed two empty chairs and went off searching for food and/or drink. While they were gone, another couple came in. They were chagrined to find that there all the seats but one were taken. They had signed up on the chart to sit here. As I hadn’t, I told them to take my seat. They insisted that I remain where I was and they found another table. I felt a little bad.
The entertainment this evening was a virtual tour of Classic Team Lotus. Richard Parramint did the tour for us, which was quite kind of him, as it was about one in the morning his time. As is usual with these things, it took a few minutes to get through the technical difficulties, but once he got going, all was good. They’re working on quite an interesting bunch of cars at the moment. But then again, I’m sure they’re always working on an interesting bunch of cars.
This is the end of the festivities for most LOG attendees. I, however, have one more day: the track day at Utah Motorsports Campus.
To that end, we had a drivers meeting in one of the conference rooms after the buffet. It’s not the same sort of drivers meeting we get at the track and not a substitution for that meeting. Here, we were handed our tech forms, told when to arrive at the track, got a count of cars by group (novice, intermediate, advanced) and based on that data decided to combine advanced and intermediate. I applauded this move. With three groups, we’d be having 20-minute sessions. I much prefer 30-minute sessions as a much smaller portion of your time is spent on in and out laps.
Our friend Speedy Gonzales ran the meeting. He made a point to stress, repeatedly, that we shouldn’t try to impress the instructors. He told us he had hundreds of hours racing Formula Fords, and nothing we could do would impress him or the instructors, and may, in fact, just scare them. So we were supposed to be on our best behavior. I wasn’t too concerned with this topic, as I won’t be needing an instructor and I always try to be on my best behavior when I’m on the track.
The last thing we were told was to get a good night’s sleep. I’m down for that!
I began the day with a breakfast sandwich from the Starbucks in the hotel lobby, which I ate at a tableful of fellow LOCOs.
The first activity on today’s agenda was the group panoramic photo and Concours. We’d drive from the hotel to a local high school parking lot. But first, everybody was out cleaning up their cars. It rained yesterday evening, so it was mostly a matter of wiping the cars dry. My car, somehow, was already dry and still quite dirty. Is there something about my car that makes any water on it dry unnaturally quickly, leaving only the water spots?
I really don’t care that much if my car is dirty. I often joke that, whenever I take it to, say, Cars & Coffee, I’m always in the running for the Dirtiest Car in Show award. Half a dozen people must have asked me, “Aren’t you going to wash it?” Nope!
We independently headed for our photo at Cottonwood High School. Arriving there, we more or less randomly parked at the west end of the lot. This felt a lot like your typical Cars & Coffee, except that almost every car was a Lotus. While we wandered around, checking out the cars, asking the owners about their customizations, and deciding who gets our votes in the various classes, it started to rain lightly. My car was no longer noticeably dirtier than anybody else’s, and I’ll admit to experiencing a bit of schadenfreude in so many people wasting so much effort cleaning their cars.
Lots of yellow here
Raindrops
Poor man’s pano
Needs a bigger scoop!
Exige with “track pack”
After a fair amount of socializing, we were told to go to the east end of the lot, with the newer cars (Elise/Exige/Evora) in one line and the older cars in another. Many of us are independent thinkers and eschewed neat lines. Let’s just say it looked a lot like people trying to get out of a parking lot after a concert, and it took about as long.
During this operation, the rain really started coming down. A number of cars didn’t have tops; umbrellas were deployed. Some people looked pretty miserable. It was a quick shower, then gone.
As soon as we were all shifted, we were moved back to the west end of the parking lot, arranged by model in a big fan in front of a scissor lift. This took even longer than it took to make the first shift. The photographer, atop the lift, directed traffic. Once all the cars were in place, we took a picture with everybody standing behind their cars, and one with no people.
The photographer starts on his left and works around to his right. When he snapped the first shot, two guys up front start running behind the lift to the other side in an attempt to be in the picture twice. I’d have had trouble doing it but these guys never had a chance. It would have been nice if they’d pulled it off, though.
As I said, this was also the Concours. I don’t take these too seriously, it’s not really my thing. But some people are pretty into it. So I was somewhat amused at how many people spent so much time looking my car over. The odometer topped 91,000 miles on the way out here, and the more than fifty track days haven’t been kind to the finish. The nose is terribly pitted, paint is coming off the tow ring, I’ve worn holes through the fiberglass, in the back there’s the damage from the loose battery, and the big chunk taken out by the incident with the dolly.
More than one person said it adds character. One guy said he’d vote for it if he had a ballot (he didn’t have one, some issue when he checked in). I always figured I’d be the last car to get votes in a Concours, but I’m a bit curious if somebody voted for me because of all my battle scars.
Those 91k miles are well above the average for an Elise, but I have nowhere near the most. I talked to one guy from San Diego with a long commute (daily from San Diego to 29 Palms?) who has put more than 120k on his, and somebody told me there was a guy here from Michigan with 160k. I’d have liked to have chatted with him.
All morning I pondered which self-directed drive to take. The local chapter had devised about ten of them. I was thinking I’d like to head to Antelope Island. I asked several others where they were going, many were non-commital, and nobody seemed that interested in Antelope Island. In the end, I stayed in the high school parking lot until there were only a dozen or so cars left.
The agenda for the evening was a cash bar at 5, a banquet at 6. I got dressed up for it, wearing a sport coat for the first time since LOG 35. I had a couple of Lotus Lagers and struck up a rather lengthy conversation with Richard, a very pleasant man who laughed at all my jokes.
When it was time to have a seat in the banquet room, I saw that there was a seating chart. Evidently, I was supposed to pick my seat when I checked in yesterday. Nobody told me. Here it was, almost completely filled in. I found an empty seat at a table in the back, but I didn’t have a pen and didn’t put my name in the blank on the chart.
Due to various travel restrictions, the guests we had planned on having in the room couldn’t make it. Instead, we got a short video with Richard Parramint talking to two Lotus mechanics from the F1 glory days. They told some funny stories of the practical jokes they used to play on the other teams.
Next up was the awards ceremony. Ross got the task of announcing the names. This went well for about two minutes. Instead of announcing the names of the winners, they used their LOG registration numbers. To add to the confusion, they somehow cross-threaded the awards and classes. That is, they’d announce a Seven owner as the winning Elan. They managed to get it squared away eventually; names in their proper categories. Ross handled it as well as anybody could have.
I didn’t count, but it seemed to me that more than half the winners were LOCOs. I’m sure it wasn’t that many. We are particularly well-represented here this weekend, though, and Lotus Colorado took more than our share of trophies home. About the only ones we weren’t in the running for were longest drive and best personalized plate.
Tomorrow I think I’ll take the guided drive down to the ghost town.
Every year, unless there’s a pandemic, anyway, Lotus Ltd, the national Lotus owners group, holds a Lotus Owners Gathering. These events are hosted by whatever local chapter wants to step up to the plate. The only LOG I’ve attended so far was the one we hosted in Colorado Springs. Most often, they’re deep in the Eastern time zone and I’ve been reluctant to make the drive. In 2020, the fine folks in Salt Lake City took on the challenge. COVID saw that challenge and said, “Not this year!” so it was postponed to 2021, where we begin our story.
I wasn’t the only one from Lotus Colorado, as you might expect. The LOCO gang is pretty devoted to group drives, so a two-day drive was organized for the trip to SLC and there was a choice of two drives for the return trip, one of which was several days and hits several national parks, including a visit to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. Unfortunately, I just started a new job and had to minimize time off, so I did the travel on my own.
Friday, September 10
I left the house at 6 am and headed up I-70 to Silverthorne. Yes, this is a violation of Rule #1. There is a fairly limited number of routes from Denver to Salt Lake City. Most people tend to use I-80. I-70 is another choice. Other than interstates, your choice is pretty much down to Trail Ridge Road and Poudre Canyon. Both are nice drives, but each would add a significant amount of time to the trip.
Between the two interstates, the next most obvious route is US 40. It covers the vast majority of miles between the two terminals, with a short stint on I-70 on the Denver end and I-80 on the SLC end. I drive the section of US 40 between its intersection with I-70 and the western end of Trail Ridge Road in Granby fairly often. A variation of this trip would be to forego Berthoud Pass and continue on I-70 to Silverthorne. From there, take CO 9 north to Kremmling. That’s a new road for me, so I went that way.
I stopped for breakfast at a bagel place in Silverthorne. There, I had a short visit with a couple visiting the area from Portland. They began the conversation by saying that they liked my car because it matches the colors of the University of Oregon.
From the top of Hoosier Pass south of Breckenridge to Kremmling, CO 9 runs downhill beside the Blue River, a tributary of the Colorado. There are two dams on the Blue, Dillon Reservoir and Green Mountain Reservoir, dividing the valley into thirds. The twenty miles from Silverthorne to Green Mountain Reservoir runs along a spectacular string of 12 and 13,000 peaks run to our left. After Green Mountain Reservoir, the valley flattens and widens. Here, trees are only growing on the slopes and the valley floor is fairly barren. North from Kremmling, we climb along Muddy Creek, which is dammed by Wolford Mountain Reservoir just a couple miles from town. Thirty miles up the road we reach Muddy Pass and the junction with CO 14.
John C. Frémont explored this area in 1844, crossing Muddy Pass, heading south. He wanted to search for the unknown source of the Colorado River but “a mob of Arapahoes in war paint” appeared from the east. His men swam their horses across the river and hustled up the Blue River to where Dillon Reservoir is. With Arapahoes everywhere in the woods now (who were actually looking to pick a fight with the Utes), they hurried up Hoosier Pass. Twelve years later, Frémont was the first Republican candidate for president.
Passing the junction with CO 14, we start to climb the eastern side of Rabbit Ears Pass. Typically, the top of a pass is a crest. Here it’s a plateau. The road runs nearly level at about 9,400′ for about four and a half miles. Drop down the west side of Rabbit Ears to Steamboat Springs, and onto the Colorado Plateau, which we’ll cross for most of the rest of the day.
Life Elevated
We follow US 40 west until Heber City, Utah. Traffic was about as light as I expected until I got to Vernal, where I had lunch. I was not terribly happy with the traffic from Vernal to Heber City. The road is nice enough: a good surface, with just about every significant climb having a passing lane. But the traffic west of Vernal was not to my liking. Lots of trucks running in both directions. I don’t know what they’re carrying, but they’re the ones that look like inverted cones, running in tandem, 38-wheelers.
Between Starvation State Park and Strawberry Reservoir, I just missed a rain squall. I’d have rather driven through the squall than missed it: the road was wet and the big trucks kicked up huge clouds of spray. So much for having a clean car.
At Heber City, Google wants me to go to I-80, but I’d rather not. Instead, I find a route through Wasatch Mountain State Park. I enjoyed this little trek: Pine Canyon Drive, S Guardsman Pass Road, and Big Cottonwood Canyon Road. Those first two were narrow, steep, and windy with no center stripe and a 15mph speed limit. Which is about right: I encountered a deer and a Bighorn Sheep ewe standing on the road.
I pulled into the hotel parking lot at 4:20 and was directed where to park: drive under the limbo pole, past the Evoras and Elans and Europas, into the upper part of the lot with the Exiges and finally my Elise brethren. I wasn’t the last to arrive, but nearly so. As usual, I have the dirtiest car in the group. Everybody who needed it washed their cars at the hotel. I barely had time to check into LOG and into the hotel before it was time for the Gathering of Lotus Owners.
Out in a tent on the back lawn, we had some food and a cash bar. Soft taco fixins, chips and various dips. A local brewery made a Lotus Lager available. I think it was more like an amber ale. I like amber ales, so I had two Lotus Lagers. Somehow, I managed to gather with other LOCOs, which I don’t have to drive 600 miles to do. I resolved to mingle as much as possible with people who haven’t already heard all my stories.
The printed schedule indicated an 8am start for track day, but this was incorrect. At the buffet last night, Ross made an announcement that we should be there at 7 instead. So it’s another early morning; I left the hotel before 6:30, stopped at the gas station to top off the tank, and headed south on I-25 to PPIR.
I was thinking I’d arrive just on time, thus being one of the later arrivals. To my surprise, the gate wasn’t open yet and we were queueing up in two lines. It didn’t take long to see that I was one of the earlier ones and we’d soon have people stacked up on the interstate. A few of us started directing traffic down the side road to a dirt lot. So much for the 7 o’clock start; the schedule would be shifted an hour.
After signing the track’s waiver at the gate, we stopped at another line before entering the track where we turned in our paperwork and picked up our numbers. I’ve done nearly 30 track days and this is the first one I’ve had to have a number.
I’ve only run laps at PPIR once before, with CECA. That time we were in the garages which was quite nice. Plenty of room to put our gear, out of the sun and wind. No garages today, though. After emptying the car and affixing our numbers and letters (I was A group, car 25) we went into the classroom for the drivers meeting.
Usually they go over all the rules – which flags are in use (typically just yellow, red, and black) and tell us where we are allowed to pass. They did talk about flags but passing zones must have been discussed in yesterday’s meeting, which I missed due to being here at the autocross. No worries; I’ve been here before and know the drill. I did get some good news and some bad news. The good news was that I didn’t have to have an instructor with me, not even for the first session. The bad news, I had to keep the soft top on. So the camera got mounted on the harness bar rather than top center where I have the new adhesive mount. I later found out I wasn’t allowed to take a passenger.
I didn’t count the A group cars. There were perhaps a dozen for the first session. Greg in his formula car, a couple Esprits, a couple Evoras, a couple Exiges, me and few others. We were the first group to run, so I was in a bit of a hurry after the meeting. This is when I found out that after upgrading my phone, I needed to sign on to my RaceChrono account in order to get lap times and OBD data. Unfortunately, I was unable to remember my password, so no data acquisition today. Oh well.
This was my first track day since I started wearing the Fitbit. I was curious how much I really work in the car. But I didn’t think of turning it on until the third run, and then I forgot to turn it off for a half hour. Maybe next time I’ll do better.
Today wasn’t really a track day – it officially was a driving school. That’s why I couldn’t take a passenger – only instructors were allowed passengers. Much as our autocross was run by SCCA, the driving school was run with the aid of the Mercedes Benz club. I’ve never run with them; because we were using their insurance we weren’t allowed to go topless unless we had arm restraints. This has never been the case for me before.
Because this was a driving school, I was a bit surprised to see nobody had put cones out on the course. Usually the organizers place cones at the apex of each turn at a minimum, plus turn in and run out. I assume they got the cones out after our first session as they were there next time. In any event, I had my line figured out after a few laps.
This is not my favorite track. No, that’s not true. It’s my least favorite track. We run on about three quarters of the speedway plus the small infield section. The road course section of most ovals takes up the majority of the infield. Here at PPIR, more than half the infield is taken by parking lots, garages, and other buildings. With so little room for the road section it’s a bit rinky-dink. And, of course, I’m not going to push very hard on the speedway section – a mistake here and you’re in the wall. All other tracks I’ve been on have plenty of room if you go off – there’s nothing to hit unless you really screw up.
Most of the cars in my group were faster. I passed a yellow Esprit several times, and a blue Evora. But because we were not a large group, I only had to wave by faster cars a few times. In the second session, just as I was catching the yellow Esprit, Greg caught me in his formula car. The yellow Esprit waved him by, then waved me by. By the time I completed my pass, we were well into the turn on the speedway. A few corners later I was shown the black flag. Oops, I should have waited to pass him. I think I was the only driver given the black flag all day.
Between sessions I visited with a number of people. Most track days, I know many of the people from other events – the local track rats. Today I had the opportunity to socialize with folks from all over, including a couple from Ottawa. They had flown in, so weren’t participating; he said he enjoyed running at Loudon, New Hampshire. They solve their small infield problem by running a road section outside the oval.
I only ran three sessions. I normally have an extra five gallons of gas but didn’t bring the can with me on this trip. I normally try to run as many laps as I can – get my money’s worth. But missing a session here didn’t bother me that much. I was all packed up and on the road by 3:30 and home by 5:30. I’d almost forgotten how much fun rush hour traffic can be. I’m spoiled by working at home.
I couldn’t check out the Fitbit data until after I got home. I always knew I was working hard in the car – I’m often breathing pretty hard, and your basic rule of thumb is four heartbeats per breath – but I had no real sense of how hard. The Fitbit tells me I was in peak zone for three minutes and the cardio zone for fourteen. Total that’s a bit over half the time. When I wasn’t in the cardio zone my heart rate was still above 100 much of the time. So a half hour running laps in the car is not quite as strenuous as hiking for a half hour.
Our first event of the day is the group drive to the summit of Pikes Peak. We had arranged with the city (the Pikes Peak road is operated by Colorado Springs) to be on the mountain before anybody else, so that meant another early rise. We left the hotel at 6:30 in a giant caravan to the North Pole parking lot where we lined up and waited for the Rangers to give us our passes. We pretty much filled their lot. Rangers passed out brochures – these were our tickets in. They did this instead of putting stickers on everybody’s windshield.
We passed the dozen or so folks lined up at the gate. It was pretty well known that we wouldn’t be staying within the speed limit, but we were told not to go crazy – if we overstepped we would be shut down. I later learned Clive Chapman led the charge. We were nowhere near the front of the line, but it was certainly the fastest I’ve ever made it to the top.
We got there 40 minutes before the store opened. It was cold and a bit windy and several folks really wanted to use the restrooms but we had to be patient. When they finally opened, the clerks said they weren’t warned so many people would be there; they were overwhelmed. It’s always cold and windy on top of 14ers, so the weather wasn’t unexpected. The smoke was bad again, but not too bad, and we were above it.
I assume most people headed out on one of the three scenic drives. We did our drive to Cripple Creek yesterday because I had autocross in the afternoon. Genae isn’t at all interested in standing around in a parking lot for three or four hours so she went to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. I headed to PPIR.
We were on the schedule for 2pm. I’d been telling people it would be more like 3 or 3:30 but there was no general announcement. I wish I’d been able to get more people signed up the evening before. It was kind of hectic – I had forms and numbers and a notebook but no where to spread out. The wind was blowing, so everything had to be in the passenger seat of the car. At first I was able to deal with the entrants one by one but before long they were arriving two and three at a time, I eventually had everybody’s forms and had assigned a class and number.
The SCCA guys were great. We had a short meeting then set off to walk the course. Before the cars were let loose, Bill and Jon set the “slow” times in their wheelchairs. I’m pretty sure Bill has done this before – he had a more favorable final drive ratio or better charge in his batteries or both. Skip ran in his Baby 7, a one-third scale Lotus 7 go-kart. Eric and Kelly Dean not only had their Lotus but entered their Tesla as well.
I was working a corner for the first group. Second group was Elise and Exige, first group was everybody else. Nobody ever hit a cone in our sector, but we had several people DNF. The most fun was trying to get Skip to complete the course. The first time, he cut about a quarter of the course off. Each time after that I tried to point him in the right direction.
SCCA said we’d get four runs, I asked for 5 if we could be finished by six. In any event, we’d all miss the track day drivers meeting that somehow got scheduled for 5pm. We did get five runs and were done a few minutes before six so nobody would be late for the Mexican buffet that started at seven back at the hotel.
This was my second autocross. I had four different passengers on my five runs, going out solo only once. My first time was a 58 and I got better each run until the last, when I got sideways. Had I kept it straight, it would have been my fastest run. I’ll admit to being pleased that I was setting pretty good times. At my first autocross, I was about mid-pack among the rookies but only at the top end of the bottom quartile of all competitors. Today, most of our group were rookies or hadn’t done autocross often or recently.
Everybody seemed to have a good time, so I think it was a successful event. I hung around for a few extra minutes to collect the results, which Cynthia and Terry volunteered to collate.
I was back to the hotel just in time to stand in line for the Mexican buffet. After we ate, Ross made some announcements, then I got up and presented the results. People were very gracious and applauded everybody, even me when I said I’d gotten second in the Elise NA class. We all collected our trophies and sat down to watch Ross do a Tonight Show with Johnny Carson routine to chat with the evening’s guests – Clive Chapman, Arnie Johnson, and Dave Bean.
Unfortunately, I missed much of what was said. Just after it got underway I realized our results didn’t include Phil. He’d been running autocross with SCCA all day, so he already had done his paperwork and gotten a number. I didn’t put him on our entry list, so I never got his results. Turns out he was second in our class, so I gave him my trophy. I felt I couldn’t take the third place trophy from the guy we announced, so Tatiana and Jeremy gave me the 2nd place autocross for the race prepped car class. There were no entrants in that class.
It’s a pretty cool trophy, even if it’s not exactly what I won. Tatiana and Jeremy did a fantastic job making these; it’s a pretty neat little memento.
The first event on the docket for Saturday was the panorama photo. We arranged a location with a view of Garden of the Gods and Pikes Peak. We first time LOG attendees were told that quite a few people want to arrive at the photo location early so they could get a prominent spot up front. So we volunteers had to arrive early; we were to direct people onto the lawn and get them lined up in good order. So I was up before six even though the photo wouldn’t actually happen until 9:30.
I didn’t count but we had something like a dozen folks directing traffic, starting in the street, winding through the parking lot, over the sidewalk, onto the lawn, then around in a large arc to get people lined up in concentric semicircles. Some had asked if we were going to try to arrange the cars by model or to abide by the “Ross Rule” – adjacent cars can’t be the same color. Attempting either of these would be futile and time consuming. Our task was simply to get them lined up.
Volunteering for this task had two nice side effects. First, I got a spot in the front of the photo. Second, and perhaps more interesting, I got a good look at every car as it came in and was able to chat with many of the owners. I never did see an official car count but there were something like 130+ cars there. Of course, I’d seen the cars in the hotel parking lot but generally the owners weren’t there.
Of note, there’s a rare Autumn Gold car with Colorado plates. Only eight of that color were imported to the USA. One was totaled and another went to Norway. I wondered how we had a local car like that and I’d never seen it before but somebody told me he’s from Pagosa Springs, so he’s not really local. Another interesting and rare color was Ice White. I’d never seen one before and asked if it was a custom color. No, just rare. A couple from California have an Isotope Green Elise. It wasn’t the only IG car there, but it was the only IG car with matching fuzzy dice and beanies.
The weather couldn’t have been much better – the morning was cloudless and clear of smoke.
Once we got everybody situated, we just had to wait until the sun was high enough to chase the shadows of all the cars. This allowed plenty of opportunity for folks to take pictures. Some put in more than the usual amount of effort – one guy brought out a drone. We take two pictures – one with people standing by their cars, one without. Each photo is comprised of about eight shots. I ordered a copy of the one with people.
After the shoot we headed back to the hotel. The rest of the morning was a Concours. Two, really – the judged one and the people’s choice. We didn’t enter the judged one, it’s more for the classic cars anyway. And we had no chance of winning the people’s choice for two reasons – first, there were a hulluva lot of great looking cars and second, we weren’t there. Most folks would be doing the road trips after Pikes Peak. I was doing autocross, though, so now was the time to do it.
First I had to try to resolve a dilemma. I was signed up for the track day but because I was out of town all week I didn’t have a chance to get the car inspected. BOE Engineering was a sponsor and had a large presence. So I went to their trailer and asked if they’d be kind enough to take care of it. The guy I talked to said I should return at 3 and they’d take car of me.
Three drives had been mapped out – a short one, a medium one, and a long one. Because we had to be back by three, we had little choice but the short one. Which worked out fine, as that was to Cripple Creek. I’ve lived in Colorado for more than forty years but have never been there. Genae’s never been there either.
US highway 24 headed west from I-25 is always crowded. On a summer weekend, it’s your basic stop-and-go bumper-to-bumper slog. It started loosening up once we passed the turnoff for Pikes Peak, tomorrow morning’s destination. Before long we were in Woodland Park. I’m pretty sure I’ve never been west of Woodland Park on US 24 before.
At Divide, we make a left turn to head south on CO 67. The road was bumpy and crowded but scenic. I say “crowded” but it wasn’t too bad. There were no long strings of cars, and we were even able to pass a few slow ones. It’s a very scenic drive. The route we took had us loop back to US 24 via Teller County Road 1. It carries less traffic and was quite pleasant.
We’d like to go back explore more of the region. The town itself is no longer interesting to us. When limited stakes gambling was first allowed, one of the big selling points was that the revenue would be means for historical preservation. I view it along the lines of the Vietnam war: “we had to destroy the village to save it”. I have no basis of comparison for Cripple Creek, but huge swaths of old buildings were removed and replaced by casinos in Black Hawk and Central City.
We stopped for a bite at Arby’s in Woodland Park and in spite of two navigational errors were back to the hotel a few minutes before three. I went over to the BOE trailer but the guy I had talked to earlier wasn’t there. The BOE guys said I should talk to the Concours Auto guy next door. He said I could show up at their shop Monday morning and get my inspection. Clearly, he wasn’t tuned in to the fact that track day was Monday. I thought I had him talked into doing one there in the parking lot but he decided not to. He said his liability insurance wouldn’t cover him if he did the inspection away from his shop. Does them doing an inspection actually imply liability? I don’t think so, but whatever.
So I went back and cornered one of the BOE guys. He and his colleagues closed up their trailer, then they abandoned him with me. I told him I’ve been throwing lean codes with the new intake. He told me a tune would run me eight hundred bucks. I think I’ll pass on that and just put the stock airbox back on. He also suggested I replace the bullet studs the previous owner installed and use the ones I have on the left rear. I will take that under advisement. He was very friendly and helpful.
Saturday evening was the big banquet. Genae had talked to Ann about the dress code so I planned to get all dressed up. My maximum is a sport coat and a tie. I think it’s the second time I’ve worn a tie in six or seven years.
The banquet starts at seven, with a social hour prelude. Instead of being social, I needed to get set up at a table and try to register my autocross attendees. We gave no notice we were doing this, and I didn’t even get a table until the last minute. Ross told me to share the table with the panorama photographer. He needed the whole table. The other table already there was for Bobby Unser to sign autographs. Finally the banquet staff brought me a table.
I needed to get each entrant to fill out SCCA’s weekend membership form and assign them a class and number. I had printed a bunch of numbers to be taped on the cars. I had a dozen of each digit. So I spread all this out on my table. It was funny watching people trying to figure out what I was selling. Something like 35 people had signed up for autocross but I only managed to get a dozen taken care of.
Not long after I got set up, Bobby Unser and his wife arrived and sat at the table to my left, signing autographs. He had a line of five or six people at one point, but generally there were only ever one or two people at his table. A woman approached me and said, “I understand you’re signing autographs.” I’ve either been mistaken for an 81 year old man or somebody was looking to get an autograph of somebody they know nothing about. I point to Unser and tell her, “You probably want him, but I’d be happy to give you my autograph.”
Later I made the same joke with another woman. She said, “You’re very attractive and all, but…” just as Genae walks up. “She was flirting with you.”
At seven I packed up my numbers and forms and headed to our table. Genae had the beef, I had the chicken. We’d been carrying the dinner coupons on the back of our name tags. Chicken was on yellow paper, salmon on pink, beef on red. When my name tag was showing the wrong side out, it identified me as “Chicken”. After we ate, Bobby Unser got up on stage and told stories of Pikes Peak and Indy, then answered questions. He’s a fairly entertaining fellow.
One question was, “How did the deaths of other drivers affect him?” He says he never feared death, and, as bad as it might sound, was indifferent to the deaths of his competitors. He had to be. He was injured many times; spent a lot of “sheet time” (time in the hospital). He now has difficulty walking and can’t stand for any amount of time.
Festivities wrapped up at ten to end a full day of LOG.
