Trackday

Here's some ramblings from my day at the track last Friday. I'll try to post more later...

One of the things I enjoy most about track events is the anticipation. Beginning about the night before the event, you start thinking about unwinding from the daily grind, and just removing yourself from your usual routine. I’ve read about climbers who love to climb because it forces them to focus on the task at hand, and helps them take their mind off things. Perhaps my regular life is not so intense that I need to expose myself to such risk in order to get into that “zone”, but I think I know what they are talking about. (Although, I suppose some people would conclude that driving a street car at triple digit speeds to be just as risky behavior.)

Driving a Lamborghini around the highways and hills of the Bay Area is certainly a lot of fun. But it’s always a bit stressful if you want to drive it fast. You’re always looking out for CHP, and with other cars on the road, it just doesn’t work well. So I generally don’t push it around town. On the track, you have no such restrictions. Sure there are other cars, but it’s not congested, and you can usually find space if the starters place you right. It’s just you and your nerve out there.

I’m fortunate enough to live between one to two and a half hours from three different race tracks. So I usually get up early the day of a track event and just drive there, rather than stay at a nearby motel. The night before is where you go through your checklist of things and make sure you’re ready for the following day. Going through that checklist, you start feeling little bits of that adrenaline rush. Helmet, check. Torque wrench, check. Tire pressure gauge, check. Plastic ties, blue tape, water bottles, folding chair, check. And the list goes on. I usually end up with a bin of items and the chair that I stuff into the passenger seat. The helmet and extra oil is all that will fit in the trunk of a Gallardo. I’ve contemplated getting a trailer since I have a pickup truck, but there’s just no place to park it where I live. (Anyone know of any cheap garage storage?)

Sometimes I’ll get so worked up that I won’t sleep well the night before. But I don’t sleep that much in general so that’s not new. This night, I get in a good five hours. Good enough. I wake up before the alarm goes off. Funny how your body does that sometimes. I turn off the alarm so my wife won’t wake up and climb out of bed. In the dark, I reach for the pile of clothes that I stacked the night before and slip out to get dressed and gather all my stuff.

As I enter the garage, I peer over at the G, and I swear the car is smiling at me. It knows where we’re going, and we can’t wait. Last minute run-through of the checklist, bin and chair in the car, radar detector, extra water, some nuts and gum for the drive. We’re all set. Last minute tire pressure check, can’t forget that. One of the cool things about getting up at four in the morning to drive to the track is that usually cops are not out on the streets that early. Nor are other cars. Today I am off to Thunderhill with a track group. Thunderhill is about an hour north of Sacramento, and there are usually few cars going in that direction early in the morning. Perfect time to try some high speed runs if you’re up to it. But if you’re going to do that, you need to make sure your tires are good. Bad things can happen to perfectly good people when tires go bad at speed. Ask “Hamster.”

So I’m all set. I open the door and hear the e-gear motor spool up and climb in. Anyone who owns a G will know that from a cold start, that first firing of the engine when you turn the key is one of the best sounds created by man/woman (sorry, I live in Northern California where it’s sort of required to be PC). I’m certain I’ve woken either my wife or my kids. It’s ok, I tell myself. I’ll be out of here soon.

It’s pitch black outside. The easy 1st/2nd gear drive out of my neighborhood is a bit guilt-ridden at such an early hour. It’s times like these I thank Lamborghini for keeping a lower volume exhaust setting for low speeds. By the time I reach the freeway entrance, the engine is nice and warmed up. This is where I will usually gun it for the first time, but, surprisingly, there are a number of cars around me on the freeway as I get on. So I decide to just take it easy. In general though, not too much traffic getting out of town.

A few bridges and freeway changes later, I reach a stretch of open road that is completely clear. Not a car in sight in either direction. It’s still pretty dark, so the risks are related to not seeing any potential road hazards or turns in the freeway. A faint headlight is flickering on the other side quite a distance out. It’s time to go for a high speed run. Drop to 4th and floor it. What’s amazing about the G is how stable it feels at speed. I used to have an NSX a while back, and that car started bumping a bit after about 125mph. It had the removable top, which also had a tendency to start rattling at 130mph. At Laguna Seca, I once witnessed an NSX lose its top as it sped down the main straight, flying a good 20 feet in the air as it ripped off. The G on the other hand, there is simply no fuss.

It’s always a bit tricky trying to figure out how fast you really are going in this car, however, since the speedometer is so inaccurate. Depending on your speed, it can read anywhere from five to ten miles per hour faster than what you’re really doing (the faster you go, the more inaccurate it gets). Something the factory apparently will not “fix.” The speed rushes up to me. But the car doesn’t seem to notice or care. Rock steady, no fuss, no drama. I look down and the meter reads x50. I look up. Is the road turning a bit? Can’t quite tell since it’s so dark. ****, it is. Ok, slow down slowly. One thing you have to keep in mind is that abrupt stops at such speeds (if not necessary) are generally things to be avoided. Everything about driving should be nice smooth. Abrupt is what sets a car off balance. It’s what can cause you to react abruptly with the controls, and sometimes over-correct. And then you can get in that place where you’re just all wrong and wrong things can happen.

I get her down to about x35 and I’m not sure it’s enough for the turn that’s coming since I can’t really see all of it (mental note to self: not-so-good decision making trying to run in the dark). The turn comes, my stomach twists a bit, anticipating some adhesion limits…but, nothing. The turn is not so bad, and the car is handling it fine. Not even a squirm out of the tires. Whew. Ok, save it for the track.

As I drive farther north, daylight begins to take hold of the morning. I’m passing by mile after mile of open fields. In the distance stands incredibly large processing and storage bins for some sort of vegatation or grain. One day, our cars will be connected to the net and our GPS/computer systems will allow me to hook up to Google Earth and I can ask it what the heck that is. For now, all I know is that the yellow/red light of the morning sun is giving this giant behometh a beautiful, sweet glow that just puts me at ease somehow. It’s on drives like these that you have a sense of how small you really are, and how rich and textured this land is.

It’s ten miles to the track. Adrenaline is starting to kick in. I push my speed a bit, thinking that as soon as I get off the freeway, I need to stay at the limit since the locals there don’t appreciate track guys speeding around town. I’m passing a few cars on the right. An overpass approaches, and ****! CHP. I slam the brakes and instantly get down to 70 mph. What happened to my V1?! ****. Volume was set too low. It had been blaring all this time. As I pass the CHP, I see his tires smoke and he is on the run. Not a good sign. He’s not speeding up too fast though. So maybe I’m in luck. I move over to the right lane. He follows me. We’re both going the speed limit. He waits a bit, then the lights go on. Crap! Great. I just got my first ticket in this car just a few weeks ago. Not again! I pull over.

 

Your post was great, and did an excellent job conveying the feeling you get taking your car to the track. I had a similar experience putting my spyder on the track at Sebring a few months ago; it was so exhilarating driving the car in ways you could never do on the street, having the instructor coax me to fully exploit the brakes and cornering abilities of the car, beyond what I'd have ever experimented with on my own, and learning that the car was more than happy to respond in kind. I, like you, did not have a trailer, so I drove the car the 90 miles to Sebring, tracked it for two days and then drove it home, what a fantastic machine.

The only downside to this whole experience is damn did it make me want more. So last weekend I bought a Radical SR3 and I'm picking a trailer up today so I can start taking it to events around the southeast. While my Gallardo has been an awesome experience on the track, the high-downforce version of the Radical on a tight course with it's 2g+ turns and 3g braking is like a roller coaster times three in intensity and it doesn't end after 60 seconds. Hopefully this one will hold me over for a while, it's an expensive hobby.