Thanks to all of you for the kind words. After all the crummy weather we’ve had this season, the past weekend was a real gift, and the willingness of Jim and the NASA folks to go to bat with RRR for extra track time, as you can imagine, was not an easy sell.
One of my strongest memories of IFU-1 was the opening laps, when all hell seemed to be breaking loose, with cars flying by cars in and off the the pavement, and I was sure that we were going to have a Guinness record pileup of cars, and everybody would blame that sh*thead at Factory 3 for creating such a stupid race.
But, amazingly enough, everbody got by and got through, and we settled down to some excellent racing and racecraft practice.
IFU-2 seemed to start out a lot tamer, because of the mini-packs. Challenging to navigate in a different way, but not the same terror.
Until the restart. Wow, I felt like I was reliving Code Brown at T3, with Carlton at full power and full opposite lock rally-style off the starboard bow, and I don’t know who veering in from stage left. A huge firestorm of dust at T4 and me just trying to sneak through without getting nailed…And yet, somehow, everybody made the right moves, kept their heads, and it was a blast!
Let me tell you about clutch jobs…Neatness counts.
Patton’s car is so darn clean, and it’s been apart so many times, that changing that clutch was a walk in the park. Then Sasha’s shreds itself into a pile of German Hazmat, and Mr. Big Talker says to Sasha, sure thing we can change that clutch.
Well, there’s a world of difference between working on a clean car with bolts that have been off/on recently, and (no offense Sasha) a greasy mess with bolts that go back to the Bush 41 administration. Wow, what a difference.
But, Sasha was game and put in the time, and a rotating cast of many pitched in with efforts large and small, and we got the darn thing done just before last call for Sunday qualifying. Boy didn’t I feel like a chump when the darn thing outqualied me…
The race with Sasha was cool, at the beginning. I was able to sneak by him and one other guy at the start, and was trying to set my sights on Geiger and Travis, but this pesky orange crush was chomping my ass. Dang, when is this guy going to get away from me. Well, he wasn’t. One valiant effort in T9 got him sorta sideways, and a few laps later he did the full Monty in T5, and finally I was done staring at that ugly puss in my mirror.
But hey, we got a brother competitor out on track with us, and that’s what the spirit of racers in SpecE30 bring to the track. Was really neat to see all who pitched in.