Chalk one up for Portland International Raceway, PIR, the track in Portland.<\/p>\n
Hell, give credit where credit is due. There\u2019s a reason most fans head down to the chicane to watch a race. That\u2019s where the action is, or is likely to be. That was certainly the case at the Columbia River Classic over Labor Day. Turn One is where it came down.<\/p>\n
We\u2019re humping along at a buck fifty or so (150 mph) on the main straight past the start finish line, then we come to Turn One, a nearly 90 degree right turn, followed immediately\u00a0by an even sharper left at Turn Two, then quickly by the more easy right hand Turn Three. The pavement changes from asphalt to concrete to asphalt right in the middle of all this.<\/p>\n
Turn One is a place where you can gain an advantage. It\u2019s also where advantage can be lost in the blink of an eye.<\/p>\n
For Saturday morning qualifying, the track was sloppy with rain showers on the west end and barely dry on the east. I had new brake pads to bed in, a type\u00a0I had not\u00a0run before. The ones I liked had been cracking because the backing plate was too thin. The new ones worked, but pedal feel was different. They bit later, and a little more softly.<\/p>\n
Giving up on a better time as the rain worsened, I came in after a Porsche looped it in Turn Seven doing little more than subdivision speed. Fireball, in the gold Holman Moody Mustang, qualified first, Canuck was second. I was back in the pack at ninth or so, behind the Rex Easley Studebaker which let\u2019s you know how I dialed it down.<\/p>\n
After clawing my way to third, I had the best seat in the house watching Canuck and Fireball go at each other. My memory of any one race is always a little vague, because I\u2019m not in a remembering frame of mind when I\u2019m driving, but when one was in front, the other worked at him like a dog, going high, going low, waiting until the last second to brake and then trying to hold on.<\/p>\n
Fireball especially reminded me of a terrier, attacking left and right, on the edge and a couple of times over it and in the dirt but always keeping control of the Mustang. He\u2019s a great driver, better than me and at least the equal of Canuck. It was quite a show.<\/p>\n
Fireball eventually dove beneath Canuck going into Turn Seven, and was able to get away clean. I was inching up as whoever was in the lead drove a little defensively, but I ran out of time to make a move. All three cars seemed about equal in horsepower, or horsepower to weight, or whatever ratio you want to use that defines acceleration. Nobody was going to just run away from the other two.<\/p>\n
This weekend would be decided by something else.<\/p>\n
The next morning, the three of us took off. This time, I was in a little better position to make my presence known. My turn to play dog. I don\u2019t remember if I passed Canuck at the end of the back straight or Turn Seven, but was ahead of him and had Fireball in my sights.<\/p>\n
We were coming down the main straight and I thought I saw a chance. I moved to the right, inside, glanced left as I went by and saw I was ahead.<\/p>\n
A glance at that speed can take more time than you have. I was planning to brake late and hard, but the new brake pads bit a little later, and now I was on the edge of traction and on the edge of the track, on rumble strips where friction is low. I started to turn in, wondering if the front tires would hold.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s hard to say if I heard or felt the solid contact. Fireball\u2019s passenger door and my driver\u2019s side rear wheel tried to occupy the same space. After contact, I barely made the turn as he went through the chicane and squirted out to a fifty yard lead. Canuck got by me on the way to Turn Three as I struggled to find the right gear.<\/p>\n
The race ended just as it started, One Two Three. Officials were at my trailer before I had my helmet off.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened out there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI made the pass, came in a little hot, he probably had already started to turn his wheel, we had contact. Fireball did nothing wrong,\u201d I said. I didn\u2019t think I had either.<\/p>\n
Irish had the whole thing on video. It looked like we just came together in a bit of paint swapping, but his passenger door had a good size dent as well as a round doughnut of black from my back tire. A chunk of wheel flare was missing from Yellow Jacket.<\/p>\n
I told the Mustang\u2019s owner that his driver did nothing wrong (Fireball, a one time national champion in Spec Miata racing, is the \u201cshoe\u201d). I told Fireball the same thing. From their response, I\u2019m not sure either of them felt the same about me but they were gracious enough, and that\u2019s another conversation.<\/p>\n
There were some in each camp who felt pretty strongly that the other driver was at fault. \u201cYou were ahead. His door contacted your rear tire, end of story,\u201d said a driver who had been penalized in the past for a similar incident.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re not going there,\u201d I said. \u201cHe did nothing wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
We both had options, true enough, but decisions made early don\u2019t always work out as planned. As they say of flying airplanes, hitting the ground is what kills you but the mistake was taking off with too little fuel. Or misreading a weather report. Flying and racing are risky, and sometimes things happen.<\/p>\n
That was the final official conclusion. A \u201cracing incident\u201d and no one at fault. They even let Fireball claim the victory after going right on through the Chicane, which was fine by me. It meant we had another equal start for what was going to be the last race between the three of us that\u00a0afternoon.<\/p>\n
My crew chief, Jakester shagged some black duct tape from Cowboy to fix the rear wheel arch with some help from Mule, who built Yellow Jacket 14 years ago. Then Jakester put on a new set tires I\u2019d bought that morning from another racer who wasn\u2019t going to make it out on the track this weekend. We were ready, and I realized, again, how indispensable my 16 -year-old crew chief has become.<\/p>\n
While they worked, I wandered\u00a0away from the emotion surrounding the car. I\u2019m not a fan of drama, and there was too much of it. Irish walked me about the paddock as I processed that morning\u2019s contact and worked myself back into racer mode, refocused on the joy of driving.<\/p>\n
Canuck got the lead at the start. Cowboy in his beautiful ruby red \u201967 Corvette, blasted ahead of both me and Fireball. He badgered Canuck for a lap or two. One thing about Cowboy: if he doesn\u2019t want to let you by, you won\u2019t get by. He can make his car 12 feet wide without seeming to do anything. But he\u2019s also willing to let others race their race, and doesn\u2019t hold anyone up just for his own finishing position. Eventually Fireball slipped past him, and then I did too.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know where I squeezed by Fireball, though\u00a0wish I did. It may have been the wide right hander Turn Seven, it may have been Turn Ten. He went into the dirt\u00a0on Turn Nine, on the outside of the back “straight” that is really one long, really soft sweeper. Maybe that\u2019s where. All I have in my mind are snapshots.<\/p>\n
But somewhere in there, Fireball was called in off the track for flames coming out his header. \u201cAs if they\u2019d never seen a backfire,\u201d someone said later. He went back to the paddock, but he was behind when that happened, and my eyes were already focused on Canuck, who was in front, where I wanted to be.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t out-pull him on the straights. There were places we weren\u2019t separated by more than a foot. Our cars were evenly matched. But Portland is my home track and maybe I have a few more laps there than he does. It\u2019s also really tough driving while having to look in your mirrors and keeping another driver behind you. Eventually, I passed him going into Turn Ten, I think, but that isn\u2019t where the race was won, or lost as the case may be.<\/p>\n
We were coming down the main straight, just as hot as we had all weekend, each of us knowing there was only a lap or two left in the race. As we headed to Turn One of the chicane, I was on the left, he was on the inside where I\u2019d been when Fireball and I got together.<\/p>\n
I\u2019d been watching Canuck from behind all weekend, and knew where he braked. I decided to apply my brakes later. In racer talk, I decided to \u201ctake him deep,\u201d as I\u2019d tried with Fireball before our contact that morning. But this time, I was on the outside where the driving line was softer and traction more secure.<\/p>\n
At the last possible second I squeezed the brake pedal with increasing firmness, which the new pads seemed to especially like. Behind me and with a view of my brake lights, Canuck held off even longer\u00a0hitting his brakes. As he whistled past me, I said out loud, \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n
He went by, but then had to hit his brakes and turn into Turn One at the same time. His wonderful car \u201cAlice\u201d decided to obey the laws of physics rather than Canuck\u2019s late request. They spun 360 degrees into the Chicane.<\/p>\n
I drove the rest of the race one eye on my mirror until they threw the checkered flag.<\/p>\n
People came over to the paddock and thanked us for the show. Cowboy walked up, still in his driver\u2019s suit, and said, \u201cTHAT was a race! I knew you could get by him!\u201d It meant a lot. After all, Cowboy got me into this craziness more than 20 years ago. I\u2019ve learned a lot from him, on and off the track, in the years since.<\/p>\n
We push ourselves and our machines and each other to the limit, but we don’t set those limits as we scramble for tenths or even hundredths of a second, a chance to beat the other guy. Time itself sets limits, as does a\u00a0track that dictates\u00a0what we can and cannot do where. I give this one to the track in Portland.<\/p>\n
Twenty years of racing. That\u2019s a long time. I should probably retire while I\u2019m still able to drive near the front. But then Cowboy said before I drove back home, \u201cYou got your hotel room in Sonoma yet? It\u2019s only a few weeks away. And, you\u2019re going to Indy next June. Don\u2019t even think about not going.”<\/p>\n
As if it\u2019s never enough.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Chalk one up for Portland International Raceway, PIR, the track in Portland.<\/p>\n
Hell, give credit where credit is due. There\u2019s a reason most fans head down to the chicane to watch a race. That\u2019s where the action is, or is likely to be. That was certainly the case at the Columbia River Classic over Labor Day. Turn One is where it came down.<\/p>\n
We\u2019re humping along at a buck fifty or so (150 mph) on the main straight past the start finish line, then we come to Turn One, a nearly 90 degree right turn, followed immediately\u00a0by \u2026 Read more\u2026