Club Lotus - Cambridgeshire

Saturday was the 23's, and a 30 minute qualifying session on the challenging International circuit would be very useful, (we usually race on on the ultra-dull short National circuit). But after barely 15 minutes the engine felt as if it was running low on fuel and began to 'die'; I cruised slowly into the pits and reported to Colin, but by then it was running fine again, so I rejoined the track only to have the engine die completely at the Abbey Hairpin, where I parked up on the infield until the end of the session. After a somewhat scary 'double tow' by a Land Rover of me in the 23 and a fellow competitor in his TVR, Colin diagnosed a fuel pump problem - the pump emptying the left hand tank was barely managing a trickle, only enough to fill the float chambers if I drove slowly, which is not much use for a race car. But the right hand tank's pump was fine, as long as it was primed, so the fuel was swapped over and topped up ready for the 40 minute race - the larger right hand tank being sufficient for 40 minutes on its own, by our calculations. In qualifying my best lap had been only my fourth, (the first two laps were spent bedding in the new tyres!), but that had got me within 8 tenths of the Hibberd father and son team's best in their 23, so we had high hopes of dicing with them in the race.
 

My start was perfect until it came to changing gear... A brief box of neutrals allowed eight cars to pass me before we got to the first corner! Still, with 40 minutes to go, there would be plenty of time to make amends. Two of them got in a mess at the Abbey hairpin, which is very easy to do - the track actually drops away slightly and is approached over a slight crest, all of which, combined with the left kink at entry, tends to throw cars off balance as late braking ambitions prove a little optimistic. Two more had problems with each other between Priory and Brooklands, so the damage to my track position progressively reduced. Over the next three laps I was able to get back to my starting position by exploiting the relative agility of the 23 against Lister Jaguars, E-Types and an Elva, catching the Hibberds' 23 in the process. Then, just as the  anticipated dice beckoned, I noticed my temperature gauge was rather higher than Protune recommend... I dropped a gear everywhere and eased off on the right foot until it came back within limits, losing several places in the process, of course, before pressing on again. But then I lost rather more going through Bridge, doing a quick 180 in the middle of the track before flipping a further 180 to point in the right direction and free wheel to the slip road by the marshall's post at the entry to Priory. I persuaded them to push me to restart the engine, prompting a busrt of flames through the exhaust which amused the suitably garbed helper; for the loss of thirty seconds or so in all I was back on track. Residual heat in the engine had now sent the temperature well up, so a gentle lap or two was needed to pull the gauge down. Then, looking as if I was beginning to settle down into a fast rhythm again, I turned too tightly into the Abbey Hairpin, spinning to a halt pointing the wrong way having stalled the engine and unable to restart it. So, once pushed to safety, I spent the second 20 minutes of the race watching how the experts did it through Abbey, which was helpful, but a bit of a waste. My fastest lap had been within 4 tenths of the Hibberds' best, but all in all a bit frustrating; new battery required for the next race and better radiator ducting to keep the engine cool - and a new fuel pump, too. And the driver needs to turn in rather more smoothly to apexes.

 

Sunday was the Seven's event; I thought I'd gone quite well in qualifying, but when the time sheets came out I was only 7th fastest, almost 2.5 seconds slower than Paul Tooms' Pole-sitting Elan and half a second behind Martin Halliday's Seven S3... True, there had been a lot of traffic with big speed differentials, (as usual), but I wondered if I might be losing the plot. Two spins the previous day, indifferent driving today... Should I start thinking about taking up golf?

 

Alex helped prepare the Seven for the race with these unwelcome thoughts washing through my brain. When the red lights went out I made a decent start, holding 7th place into Copse, hard on the heels of a very powerful Chevrolet Corvette. Over the next three quarters of a lap the field behind me fell gradually backwards, enabling me to start considering where I might try and pass the Vette. I tried around the outside at Luffield, and was relieved not to be squeezed unduly on the exit - clearly this chap had mirrors and used them. The Seven was no match for him down the pit straight but tried a dive up the inside under braking for Copse. The Vette held its own and accelerated to Maggotts holding the important left hand side. I didn't want to compromise my exit speed from the Beckets entry to the International section, which was flat for several seconds before the Abbey Hairpin, so dropped back slightly so I could be on his bumper on the exit but going faster. I went wide and to the right of him, positioning the car on the inside for the braking area at Abbey, confident I could go in later and deeper. I managed this, but he was now accelerating hard on my right as we headed for Bridge. I like Bridge, I think I'm good at Bridge - despite my spin in the 23 - so was confident that if I late braked, as usual, I should get my apex and be well ahead by the time we left the complex of Priory-Brooklands-Luffield, allowing me to stay ahead under braking at the end of the pit straight if I made no mistakes. And so it was - and was not - and was - and was not - this cat and mouse game went on for seven great laps; on the sixth lap we had both flashed past Peter Shaw's Elan, who was circulating a few seconds off the pace, (overheating?), but at the end of the eighth lap I was almost two seconds ahead of the Vette as we flew over the timing line, now in 5th spot. Martin Halliday was three seconds ahead of me but closing the gap to him was made much easier as I hove into his mirrors approaching the Abbey Hairpin - he obligingly locked up and went straight on, letting me carry on the lap unimpeded, posting a 1m 41.8s in the process, (which would have given me a respectable 4th on the grid earlier in the day). The two second gap to Paul Tooms' Elan was closed inside a lap. The Elan had failed to live up to its 1m41.0s qualifying promise, never bettering middle 43s in the race and so letting Julian Dodd's TVR Griffith by on lap one, James Paterson's Morgan Plus 8 on lap two. Now it was my turn, but cautiously, given that this was the chap who had taken me into the gravel trap at the end of last season, and had boasted (?) to me in the collection area prior to the race that he'd had contact damage in each of the two rounds so far this season... Nevertheless, I was a tenth in front of him and in third place at the end of lap 11, the twenty minute span of the race almost up. But I had a premonition of danger as we both approached the Abbey Hairpin on the final lap, so went deep before turning in as he tried a do or die attempt up the inside. I didn't want to die, or to damage 'Blue Streak' again tangling with him. But, of course, he couldn't carry his speed through the corner, pirouetting right in front of me, broadside across the track. I was not about to guess which way he would go next, so came to a halt next to his door as  a gratefull Martin Halliday and Roger Wills' Vette sped back past. Engaging first gear I took off after them, managing to keep Mr Tooms behind me, but the chequered flag signalled that my podium was lost.

 

Nevertheless, the car was safe, I was safe, we'd all had a lot of fun - and wasn't that what we did it all for? Thoughts of golf vanished as if they had never existed...