(June 30: I haven’t finished editing videos or photos from this weekend. Check back for more in this post soon!)
Well those three days (plus one driving day on each end) were a lot of things; full spectrum to say the least. Where to start…
The drive down was mellow…after the 2000 mile drive each way to Road America last Fall, 920 to Laguna Seca was, well not casual, but not a strain. Pulling the trailer and stopping every 180-200 miles, and stopping to pick up my spare transmission, we make the 920 miles in 15.5 hours. That’s all of Wednesday.
Thursday we sleep in, have some coffee, and go for a nice breakfast in Carmel. At 2:30 we head up to the track, with a “6:00, maybe earlier” load-in. Getting into the lake bed staging area is simple. Getting from there into the paddock at about 6:30 is not. Not one, but two spots we are stopped and checked or checked in; the line of 200 cars stretches from the paddock entry gate all the way back into the lake bed.
Once in the paddock we discover that CSRG sets up differently that SOVREN, at least at Laguna: Instead of a single-wide, full-depth spot, we had a 2-3 wide, half-depth spot. Figuring out how to arrange ourselves in a functional way means that the first two in, me and Brad, move our trailers 3-4 times. It isn’t much of a thing, though, and soon we are unloaded and setup. At 8:00 or so we head back to my buddy’s place for some sleep.
The alarm comes early on Friday, with tech and registration opening at 7:30 and a 9:20 first practice time…and an 8:15 driver’s meeting wedged in. After waiting in the long registration line for 30 minutes or so I heard someone else being told they had to go through tech first. This is opposite of what we do in Seattle, so I left the line and drove the car to tech…which wasn’t moving very fast either. About the time I got to my turn I have to leave for the driver’s meeting…but not before discovering that “Lucas, Prince of Darkness” has struck my brake lights.
I jog over to the driver’s meeting while Sam, my trusty crew-member, finishes up with tech.
Now I have to both navigate the registration line and figure out the brake light issue before 9:20. Eek!
When the driver’s meeting turns toward discussion of things like the Crossflow Cup, I slide out the back and over to registration. Good thing, too, because within five minutes of me getting there in the 5th or 6th position, there are 25-30 people in line.
Of course, this sorts itself out as does the brake light issue. The latter thanks to my paddock family. First thought to be a faulty pressure switch, we finally discover that the circuit ground has spontaneously opened but not before me doing the upside-down in the cockpit trick, to trace the wires.
I remind myself not to rush while getting ready and only miss one lap of practice. On my way out I see Rich come into the black flag area and then leave the track. It’s a good lesson in leaving puzzles like that off the track…I forget about it and go drive around Laguna Seca for the first time…but not for the car’s first time. Yep, Jason Len raced it here in the late 70s, so it’s a homecoming of sorts for the car.
Okay, so here is what some of you are waiting for: The Corkscrew is a legit intimidating turn. While the Cyclone turn at Thunderhill is a blind-turn in, the Corkscrew is double-blind: As you accelerate up the hill all that is visible is the 300 foot marker and the sky, and that’s all you get until that marker. At that point you see the apex of the turn RAPIDLY approaching on the left and a large moat of gravel in front of a wall dead-ahead. Right-O, at least I see where to go now. But as I get to the apex another issue appears, or fails to appear: ANYTHING after the apex. Once again I’m staring at sky and, way on the other side of what I can only hope is track somewhere below, a few tree-tops. Grateful for my very conservative approach velocity, I roll over the rise and track begins to appear below me. Way below me. Most of the weekend would go by before I felt like I had the entry reasonably well dialed, and then it only took the last lap of one race to roll back that delusion.
I manage a 2:01 on the last lap, settling into the new engine, which until this practice has only been used to drive the car on and off the trailer.
Practice 2 I record a couple more 2:01s and one 2:00 even. From the paddock down in the crater, the track looks huge, like Road America size. But unlike RA, it’s a busy track for a driver: No long straights at all: The run from 11 to 2 is uphill until it isn’t and then whoa! yikes! there’s a turn I couldn’t see from the uphill side. Five to six is also uphill and six looks innocent but can bite. Six to eight, well 8 is the Corkscrew and it’s all up a steep hill with a bend to 7 and then 8 is RIGHT there. Eight to eleven is a skydive followed a section of track so wide and weirdly cambered that I have no idea where to be, to a FAST turn, to 11, where oh shit! that’s sharper than 90. At some point each session I realize I’ve not once looked at gauges.
Friday night is a Newby cook-out. The temps drop into the 50s and a stiff breeze has people moving their chairs to stay in the setting sun. When it does finally drop below the horizon, most of us scurry for bed.
Saturday starts with another driver’s meeting and then we are second out for a final qualifying session for the Saturday race. We are often first out, and not rushing from the driver’s meet to get in the car feels luxurious.
Learning the track and where I can use the hills and camber to carry more speed, I manage a 1:54 and 1:56 in the last two laps.
Just after lunch CSRG runs “mechanical picnics” for drivers to shake-out cars a bit, and for passenger ride-alongs. It’s a real treat to be able to take Jen, wife of my long-time buddy Scott, and their son Zach out for a couple laps at speed on the track. As a bonus, I get four additional practice laps.
Then we get to the Sprite-Midget Challenge race. It turns out to be the single most weird and exciting race I’ve been in during my short four years of racing. It’s a split grid race, with the rest of Group 1 going out well ahead of us. Will Carson and Nick Stoffregen drop in from Group 2 to run it with us. Very experienced on this track and very fast, they are in the front row with direction to slow down and bunch us up for a photo-op coming down the Corkscrew on the pace lap, and also to not start until they get to start-finish.
This all goes very well until we make the turn at eleven and start up the hill. In the second row I see that there is NO green flag: They are going to give us a separate green-wave start. The flag comes out before we get to the stand and Stephen and I, in the second row, GUN it and go outside Will and Nick, sandwiching them. By the time we get to start/finish we’re fully four wide and the announcer, the aptly named Geoff Pitts, goes wild (I was later told).
Miraculously I get to turn 2 in the lead and hold onto it for several laps until, coming out of 11, I get a sudden case of “I don’t know how to shift” and can’t find 3rd gear. As I fumble about and pull to the outside, Stephen, Nick, Will, and Pete roar past me. I’m still not sure what happened, but I decide to put it in second and get off the track, except that I then find third gear and thunder off in pursuit.
I spend several laps getting caught back up, helped considerably by the leaders coming into slower traffic at the tail of Group 1. By lap 6 I’ve caught up as we go up the steep hill to the Corkscrew. Stephen is on the main driving line to the left, Pete is to the right. I move right to draft off Pete, as I’m catching Stephen. Pete then moves left onto the line ahead of Stephen and I’ve got open track and a great head of steam as we approach seven. At this point I look left, confirm it’s Stephen and make a choice I would *only* have made with Stephen: Instead of lifting, I stay in it and we get to turn 7 side by side, with me on what is briefly the inside but about to be the outside. Stephen pushes me just a bit and I drift onto the curbing, which I’d discovered earlier looks like the curbing at Road America, but is much less harsh. I consider braking hard and then decide: I want to go down the Corkscrew two-wide with Stephen. And that is exactly what we do. I leave him racing room on the left and then he returns the respect at 8a. Down the track we plummet side by side until I somehow inch ahead and can sneak back over at Rainey Bend. As long as I race I’ll never forget the thrill of this 18 seconds of racing at Laguna Seca.
But the action is far from over. Pete gets past Nick going into ten and I slide past just after, so it’s Pete, me, and Nick barreling toward 11 with several slower cars coming up fast. Having followed one of the cars during practice I have an idea what’s about to happen, so I’m prepared when they brake early and hard. Pete and I stay in line, hard on the brakes and suddenly Will and Stephen flash past me on the right, in the dirt. It was close! With about seven cars coming together at a slow, tight turn.
Pete and I pass an MGA from the front grid before 2 and I dive inside and momentarily get in front of Pete. But he’s carried more momentum and rockets into the short straight and back in front. Going into 4 Pete dives inside a big Jaguar…one that I’d been unwilling to try that move on all weekend. But with Pete paving the way and keeping the car off the apex, I follow and get past, too. Just after five I get a very considerate point past a Fiat and press the chase to Pete. He has less power but is a much better driver with infinitely more experience on this track. Following him down the Corkscrew and through Rainey is the best education I get all weekend.
He’s ahead through 11 and I tuck in behind going up the hill to start/finish. Just before the tower I pull out left and we start to overlap; I have momentum but he makes me earn the pass, pinching down until there is less than two feet of space on either side of me: Him on one side, the wall on the other. I hold my line, keep my foot in it, and am in the lead at turn 2.
One lap later I’m still out front, but Nick, as experienced here as Pete and with a faster car, is bearing down hard. Through 3, 4, and 5 I’m braking later and carrying more speed. I nail 6 but Nick is all I see in my rear-view mirror. Before 7 I make the decision to brake a bit later for the Corkscrew; let it run to the 300 marker. What I didn’t factor in is that I was carrying more speed, so the brake point that would have worked earlier should have been moved in not out. By the time I got on the brakes I knew I’d seriously over-cooked the corner. I turn the wheel but the car (and tires) LOL at me and straight we go into the gravel and toward the tires on the wall.
And that’s when things slowed way down. This has happened to me several times racing…space-time seems to stretch, giving me more time to consider what’s going on. And so, as the car screeched forward on locked up brakes and the sound of crunching gravel was heard, I also heard two other things:
- Richard Goldsmith: “Don’t stop in the gravel or you’ll never get out.”
- Pete Smith: “You haven’t heard about the Zanardi Pass on the Corkscrew where he drove through the gravel to make a pass and win the race on the last lap?”
And with those sage (?) words in my head I took my foot off the brake, recovered steering, and aimed the car down the Corkscrew hill…in the gravel. It bounces and yaws and crunches downhill and in a similar moment of divine clarity, I get it turned parallel to the track to re-enter and put it in second and pop the clutch to refire it. I’m certainly no Alex Zanardi though: Nick, Pete, and Stephen drive past my off-roading antics. I’m certain all three of them were as surprised by what they were seeing as I was to be in the middle of it.
I manage to make it close at the finish: Pete, Stephen, Nick, Loren. It was a 1:59 lap. The 8th lap, where I was alone in first, was my best of the weekend: 1:53.1…not too shabby for an amateur his second day ever at Laguna Seca.
IMPORTANT: The Corkscrewup makes for a compelling story and video, but it was flat-out BAD driving. Just some of the errors:
- I let what was happening in my mirror over-influence my driving.
- I failed to properly comprehend the driving dynamics.
- I let my desire to keep the lead overwhelm driving safely/in control.
On top of that, I have mixed thoughts about my decision to keep going: Driving down the gravel onto the track wasn’t the safest move, but stopping in the runoff for that corner wouldn’t have been either. Later in the weekend another situation came up and I made a different kind of decision; I take some comfort in my capacity, in these two situations, to make disparate choices.
The entire race:
My “Corkscrewup”:
Saturday night we feast on taco-truck food and hang with the Newbys, while other drivers go out with friends and family.
Sunday we get to sleep in a bit: No driver’s meeting and a 9:20 start for qualifying. Starting to trust that the car is okay on the curbing, I manage a couple 1:54s and a 1:53. Getting respectable.
Lunchtime brings more picnic rides, this time my buddy Scott and crew-member Sam. Three laps each, and six more practice laps to work on the driving line.
After the excitement of the Sprite-Midget Challenge split grid race on Saturday, we offer to do the same on Sunday and CSRG agrees. Nick and Will opt to run with their normal group, so it’s seven of us gridded up behind the front group.
On race lap 3, with Stephen and Pete hot on my heels, I accelerate out of turn 2, shift to 3rd gear and the car makes a loud clang and then rattles. I pull off right on the inside of turn 3 as the engine sputters and dies. I don’t know what it is, but it sounds bad. I signal for a flat tow as the race continues with me as a spectator.
It’s a bummer to end the weekend like that, especially with a great duel brewing with Stephen and Pete. As much of a bummer as that was though, it was outdone when I got home. What we suspected was a transmission or clutch failure turned out to be internal to the engine, the engine that had just been rebuilt. As I type this it’s entirely torn down again. The block will go to a machine shop for eval, the head checked for bent valves, rods checked for viability. Ugh. This is a HUGE bummer for me, as I’ve been looking forward to our annual big event: The Pacific Northwest Historics, and its feature race, The Battle of the Brits.
Sunday evening we go to Cannery Row, hit Ghiradelli’s for hot fudge sundaes, then go to a nice Italian place for dinner. I’m definitely in an “eat dessert first” mood.
On Monday Sam, my wife, an I make the 920 mile drive home, taking 16 hours due to traffic around San Jose and Portland. Still, with three drivers, it’s easy, if long.
Tuesday evening, after pulling the pan off the engine and seeing the mess, I put down my tools and went to bed. I didn’t look at the engine again until I tore it down on Saturday, and was in a dark mood on Wednesday. But Thursday and Friday options begin to appear, including an offer to shake-out a newly acquired Spridget and an offer of a spare engine. Stay tuned to find out what goes down in just a few day’s time at the 2025 Pacific Northwest Historic Races.
My deep gratitude to:
- The Golden family for hosting us and trusting me to give safe ride-alongs.
- CSRG for hosting such a fun event.
- My lovely wife for coming along and taking no less than 8500 photos.
- Sam, my trusted crew-member, for taking time off work to come help at the track and with the tow. Seat time is coming your way, Sam!
- Steve Poyrena and Devon Newby for helping with the brake light issue on Friday.
- Stephen Newby, and the rest of the rest of the Newby clan, for organizing the Sprite-Midget Challenge and making it so much damn fun.