I had forgotten how much fun it is to drive real racing cars. That may sound strange if you're a regular reader of this blog as I've often written about track driving but, although I raced Formula Atlantic for a while back in the 90s and did some shifter-kart driving a few years ago, most of the track driving I've done in the last dozen years has been in the context of high speed driver education events at which I'm an instructor.

My regular car is a Porsche Boxster S. It has been the beneficiary of quite a bit of suspension work but at the end of the day it's just a street car. A fun, reasonably fast, street car, but a street car nonetheless. A toy, in other words, in comparison to The Real Thing.

Thursday and Friday of this week saw another of these driver education events at Mid-Ohio, one of the most scenic and challenging race tracks in the US. The event was held during the week because this weekend the Porsche Club was having races there.

I was assigned as instructor to Michael Vong an enthusiastic, effusive, highly-engaging Chinese-Canadian who, along with his wife and cousin, had driven in from Toronto Wednesday night with two race cars, one of which is pictured here. As an A-group racer, Michael was allowed to forgo my assistance but, with no prior Mid-Ohio experience, he asked me to help show him the fast way around. So, out we went with him driving, me riding and instructing as best I could over the noise of the car.

After the first session and a little struggling with lines (Mid-Ohio is a very technical course and a lot to learn all at once), he looked at me and said, "Next session, I want you to drive my car and I'll ride. I want to see how fast I should be going."

I smiled.

This was going to be a good day.

The car is tiny and crouches impossibly low to the ground. The tops of the front fenders sit even with your knees as you stand next to it.

You climb in feet-first over the roll cage, NASCAR-style. The seat is narrow and deep, holding your hips and torso like a vise. Wriggle yourself as deeply into the seat as you can, then strap in. A six-point racing harness—two belts up between your legs, two across the lap, two over the shoulders, all connected into a single quick-release central hub. Cinch it as tight as you can so it's impossible to move anything but your head, legs and arms. You don't want to be distracted by having to hold on to stay in place.

Attach the bayonet-mount steering wheel by pulling the spring-loaded ring on the back as you snap it into place. Give it a tug and a shake to make sure it's firmly attached. Put your helmet on and cinch it tight. Check your sight lines. Attach the communicator. Check the mirror placements. Check the seat position by extending your arm forward and laying your wrist over the top of the wheel.

Just about right. It'll do.

Slip on the fire-proof racing gloves, stretch your fingers into the tips, then secure the Velcro fasteners on the gauntlets. Lick the palms once or twice to get some moisture for a better grip, then feel the wheel. Try moving yourself forward and sideways by pushing and pulling on the rim to verify everything is snug. Can't move more than a fraction of an inch? Good to go.

Check Michael in the other seat as he finishes with his gloves: Verify the belts are on correctly and snug; that his helmet is fastened. Scan the floor for loose objects. Double check everything one more time.

Check, check and check...it's time to get this show on the road.

Ignition, on.

Fuel pump, on; Hear the buzz.

Reach to the right, where the radio used to be, and press the starter button.

Immediately, there's a high-pitched whine from behind as the starter motor churns, then suddenly the world erupts with sound. There are no mufflers, of course—this is a race car—so you are simply engulfed in a sea of sound. A wonderful, powerful, sound that's so jolting you're not sure at first it's you making it. Then you touch the gas pedal and it literally jumps to your command.

It's you.

The sound is so visceral you can actually feel it. Solid motor mounts mean the whole car vibrates with the pulsing of the engine. You can feel every beat of the six-cylinder percussion section playing just behind your seat.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Blip the throttle and the motor responds instantly, revs rising and falling as quickly as you can move the pedal.

You may be looking at the photo saying, "Oh, that's just an old 914. I remember those cars. They aren't that fast." Look again. This one has a full-race, 2.8 liter, twin-plug, crank-fired, Porsche 911 motor stuffed right behind the seats where god and Ferry Porsche intended motors to be. Think 300 horsepower in a 2,000 lb car (and add short gearing for good measure). This is not your neighbor's kid's 914.

Shove the heavy clutch in, then push the forged aluminum lever into first gear. Ease out the clutch, ease on a little gas, and you're off. Wow. No power steering and 10.5-inch-wide race tires makes for very heavy steering. You burble through the paddock, past the garages filled with Porsche race cars of all vintages, then turn down the small hill toward pit lane. Wait just a moment for a racer coming off the track to go by, then you're waved into the hot pit area where you putter along in first gear toward Pit Out.

A wave and a nod from the flag marshal guarding the pit exit and the throttle goes straight to the floor. BWAAAAAAAAAA. Clawing for traction, the car leaps forward as if it has been rear-ended by a semi. No sooner than the pedal hits the floor it's time to grab second and then feather the throttle through the left-hander exiting the pits. Cold tires. You can feel it sliding. As the turn straightens, more gas, BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, up to third. Test the brakes. They're cold, too. Racing tires and brakes both have to be hot to work properly, so you cheat the system a little by holding the brake down with the left foot while pressing the accelerator with the right, all the time doing a tight slalom up the straight to get a little heat into the tires.

For the first lap or two, at every turn you can feel the tires warming, feel them sticking better and better as they gather heat. It is hard to adequately describe the difference between cold and hot race tires in a context that makes sense to someone who's never actually experienced it but the change in grip is extreme. Cold, they're vengeful, vindictive foes, constantly looking for ways to send you off the track and into the Armco. Hot, they're intimate confidants, sharing every nuance of grip and give while turning you and the car from Clark Kent into Superman.

At the end of the second lap, everything is up to temperature and it's time to get serious.

GO time

Turn one at Mid-Ohio is a blind 100+ mph left-hander just past the start/finish line. Approaching the bridge crossing the track there, you're just a touch over 7,400 RPM in third gear. A quick push of the brakes, then trail-braking into the turn as you go under the bridge. There's no roll; the car feels absolutely flat. Look under the bridge and left as you roll into the gas, feeling both ends of the car drifting. More gas. More. Full throttle, full slide, balancing the car with the wheel. Touch the apex. Slide all the way out to the edge of the track, throttle still buried. BWAAAAAAAAAAAA. Grab fourth. Move left for two.

Arc into two at close to 120. No lifting. See the braking zone between two and three. Touch the apex of two then brake hard while blipping the throttle once for a quick double-clutch downshift to third, then back on the gas, half throttle, all four wheels drifting, roll the gas all the way down, touch the second apex in three and shoot up the hill to four. BWAAAAAAAAAAA. It leaps ahead again.

Hard trail-braking and a quick blip down to second while crossing the crest of turn four, the 180-degree downhill right-hander called the Keyhole. Let the car drift out to mid-track as you roll off the brakes and back onto the gas. The car is already drifting, so add more power and get the tail to rotate a bit more, pointing the nose toward the apex. Maintain that slightly tail-out slide for a moment then, as the weight settles after the dip, roll the gas the rest of the way down to the floor, nip the apex, slide to the outside of the track and grab third as you head onto the long downhill backstraight.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Grab fourth.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Starting to go fast now.

Touch the apex of the kink and grab fifth. Third, fourth and fifth gears are so closely spaced, up-shifts almost feel like another gear the same as the one you just left but they're not, of course, and the car keeps piling on more speed. Move to the left for the braking zone. Check the tach. 7,400 RPM. Ought to be about 150 mph. At the 400-foot marker, get hard on the brakes with the left side of your foot while blipping the throttle with the right. Skip from fifth to third, then down to second for the right-hander, six, at the bottom of Madness. Could have left the braking a little later. Try 350 next time.

Begin the turn-in to six under trail-braking then get full on the gas by the apex. From here until Thunder Valley, past turn 11, you'll never not be turning. This is the technical part of Mid-Ohio and the turns come one after another after another while climbing up and down three separate hills in less than half a mile. The grade changes are significant and the linking of the corners means you can't make mistakes. One bad apex costs you speed for the next two or three turns.

Exiting six, the car drifts all the way to the bottom side of the track—to the left. Brake hard but smoothly as you come up the hill to seven while moving a little to the right to get a better angle. As you roll off the brake, rotate the car left into seven, Madness, while rolling back into the gas. Full throttle a little before the crest as the car gets light and slides an extra three or four feet to the right. Throttle planted, come back left, fast brake, roll right into 8 at the bottom of the hill while using the throttle to rotate the back of the car, then hard on the gas as you go under the Honda bridge and into the double-apex uphill left-hander, nine.

As you crest the rise at the top of 9, while the car is light, move the wheel all the way from left to right in one smooth movement as the back tires fight not to spin. Keep the throttle planted. As the car settles it touches the rev-limiter—make a mental note: you need a higher rev limit or third gear through here—then touch the apex of 10 on the right at the bottom of the hill and immediately get hard on the brakes while you try to get over to the left, then, while finishing braking, rotate the car to the right, roll off the brakes and back into the gas for 11, another blind over-the-crest corner. Let the car slide left as you cross the crest, catch the tail-wag, and you're off into Thunder Valley.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Grab fourth under the bridge. Stay left a bit longer heading into 12 to get a good braking zone for 13. Run down to the right side of the track. Brake hard just long enough to grab third. Touch the alligator bumps on the right then turn up the hill into 13, full throttle. Slide past the apex and across the track in a massive headlong rush up to 15, the Carousel, another 180-degree right-hander and the slowest turn on the track.

Heavy braking just before the crest of the little rise that drops you down into the Carousel. Ease the brakes over the top so they don't lock up, then get on them hard again as the weight settles, then ease back out so the car can begin to turn, then rotate, as you blip down to second and start easing back into the gas, sliding the rear again just a teench to point the nose at the apex, then roll the throttle to the floor. Nip the apex of 15 then grab third quickly during the moment you're going straight before making the left-hander, sixteen, which takes you back out onto the front straight and across the start/finish line.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

One lap down, now move to the right again for turn one....

We stayed out for the rest of the 30-minute session, adding more speed, shortening braking distances, quickening laps. The car was so responsive, so tossable, so willing to do anything I asked of it. Throw it into a turn slightly out of control at triple-digit speeds and, with tiny adjustments of throttle and steering wheel, collect it all up and rocket out onto the next straight.

A go-kart on steroids.

Michael's generosity with his car was amazing and hugely appreciated. I drove it during three more sessions over the two days for a total of close to two hours of track time. Over the course of it we worked out a few set-up issues, making it run and handle better each time. Along the way, Michael's lap times improved significantly because he had a better idea of what the car could actually do and where it should be going fast.

So, it was good for everybody but, as far as I'm concerned, I was the Big Winner. There were moments during my sessions when I would realize I was in The Zone, that I was totally concentrating, totally focused on what the car was doing. I could feel what each of the tires was doing, how much they were sticking or slipping, how hard I could brake or turn. I could make it take any attitude, point in any direction, even though it was constantly sliding. It was as though it was a part of me.

It was wonderful—euphoric, even. There's really not a whole lot better word for it. I can't think of any time I've ever had as much fun doing anything (yes, probably including that, too). Of course, all it does is make me want another race car of my own even more. This is way too good a thing not to do more of it.

Hm. Now, how to get the budget....?

1. David Bockes05/14/2005 09:29:27 PM
Homepage: http://www.inthestorm.com

Drool, drool..... Heavy jealousy here. You did a great job describing that lap. I could hear, smell and feel it. Thanks for sharing. Drool drool...

2. Stan Rogers05/16/2005 12:33:46 PM
Homepage: http://stanrogers.blogspot.com

Just curious -- do you know if that was a reworked 914 or an original 916? I always wanted to find me a 916....

3. Scott Good05/16/2005 04:12:59 PM
Homepage: http://www.scottgood.com

It was an original 1970 914-6, not a 916. That would have been too cool! I had a '71 914-6 back in the late 70s for a while but it was stock (read: 120 bhp). Even so, one of the most-fun cars I've ever had.

4. TTTony06/30/2005 08:41:38 AM

I too have drive Mid-Ohio in a Formula Dodge. Although the power and top speed aren't nearly the same, that was an excellent description of a hot lap. I was getting sweaty hands all over again as we cleared the blind crest down into Thunder Valley. Awesome story!

5. MELANIE03/04/2008 02:05:21 PM