Christmas Came Early

Christmas came a bit early this year in the form a new race car.

You can see Santa's sleigh in the background on the right. (That's Larry Carpenter's truck and race trailer...)

We had a great day testing the new car on the track at SMMR.

If you ever find yourself lusting after a Miata race car, I would highly recommend that you contact Larry and discuss your affliction. My guess is he will be able to deliver the cure, whether you choose to create your dream or simply adopt someone else's mature race car.

Watching this:

transform:

is pretty addicting.

Thanks Larry!

Back in the Desert

The challenge of keeping a track car 1000 miles from home is proving to to be a new experience. Not necessarily a bad experience; but there are some gotchas here and there.

The broken brake rotor proved to be a surmountable problem and resulted in making a few new friends along the way. Not only that, it also resulted in an opportunity for obtaining reasonably priced track side assistance in the future. Given that I am pretty much an automotive mechanical moron, that is probably a good thing.

I have yet to decide whether to recommend motorsports to those who do not also enjoy being an amateur mechanic as well as a driver; it definitely increases the cost.

I am beginning to understand why there is something of an allure to the "arrive and drive" scenario. While there might be an initial sticker shock at the price tag for these arrangements, trust me, it will probably turn out to be a bargain in the long run.

But, there's another option; having a spare car available when something breaks would prevent being left sitting in the desert 1000 miles from home watching folks go round and round the track. Yep, that sort of rationalization leads to crazy ideas.

That crazy idea is yellow.

Broken

How could a day in the desert that started out this beautiful:

end before lunch with this:

Ahh, well.

This is a high performance, two piece brake rotor (most brake rotors are one piece) designed for increasing the diameter of the rotor while at the same time achieving significant weight savings.

Did I mention these brakes are expensive?

These things will nearly stand the Miata on its nose.

But, this also means increased complexity over the standard braking system for the Miata.

The bolts that attached the actual brake rotor to the black hub section, the two parts that parted company, are usually and can optionally be safety wired together. It's a time consuming, tedious, old school technique that has been traditionally used in race cars and airplanes.

A "thunk" is not what you want to hear and feel when you apply threshold braking at around 105MPH.

I did not find any evidence of safety wire in this bake rotor detritus.

I think from now on I'll consider options more mindfully.

In the meantime, I'm working on my ability to understand and apply the concept of equanimity...

...and waiting to see if the sunset is as beautiful as the sunrise.

I Love the Desert in the Morning

It is the end of September and the Nevada desert is beginning to become tolerable once again.

The mornings are cool and the lighting on the surrounding mountains is surreal. 

I was up early to take advantage of the cool morning air to change the tires for a track day and had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the Mojave Desert.

It heats up quick.

Autocross Mind Training

This is how you train your mind to ignore distractions.

One of the best times of the day. Go figure.

Official Existential Motorsports Graphics

The Potential of Ritual

Apathy and lassitude are the stepchildren of nihilism.

That's probably why I am writing instead of doing. I should be in central Montana enjoying 2 bargain priced track days. Granted, the venue is not a real track. It's a two lane closed loop used by the state for training purposes. It's a five hour drive from home.

I explained this all to my wife when she asked why I wasn't going. She pointed out that it was what I had, the best option that was available this weekend. I hate it when she uses better than nothing logic.

But, I still didn't go. I was too busy being lazy and apathetic.

Finally, I managed to stir up enough energy to take a bike ride; the kind of bike you have to pedal. The first ride in two weeks. That's usually a signal that I have managed to flip the switch towards taking action to subdue the twin stepchildren.

30 minutes into the ride a combination of endorphins and conditioned psychological response takes over creating a counterforce to apathy and lassitude. Of course, it's too late to load up and go. That's why I'm writing instead of driving today.

But, I just finished another bike ride. It was windy. I hate the wind. Ask any bicyclist and they will tell you that a headwind sucks. I would rather climb a hill any day. You can see a hill, how steep it is, where it ends.

A headwind is invisible, deceiving.

But, once you have a headwind, you might as well tilt the road.

I ride my bicycle in a loop. It's a ritual. When it's windy, half the time there's a headwind.

The headwind was annoying today. I bitched to myself about the headwind. But, I managed to continue pedaling, finished the loop and predictably the counter balance to apathy and lassitude gained a bit more strength.

I think that's because when I started the wind was at my back.

A Disturbance in the Force

I think anytime you can resurrect Nietzsche in a conversation, you probably should.

After a challenging week dealing with the tribe (to Nietzsche the "tribe" represented the collective set of norms that one was called on to conform to) and several rather irritating tribal members, I found myself sitting in my racing sim rig on a Friday evening looking for a rhythm to develop while running lap after lap on a new track. That rhythm was proving difficult to find, partly due to the 16 ounce Scotch Ale I had guzzled earlier hoping to calm some of the ambient irritation that had pervaded the week.

But, finding that rhythm promised to be as much a salve to ease the week's quota of irritation as the beer that was proving to be a contributor to the difficulty in finding it. Sometimes, muddling the senses a bit too much can be counter productive. Moderation is everything (or maybe everything in moderation.)

Eventually, over the course of about two hours, a rhythm began to develop.

Maybe the alcohol began to wear off.

Maybe, the repetition began to pay off.

But, as the mental image of the track became clearer, the braking points became more consistent and the racing line began to gel, the effort to maintain the rhythm grew less and less. The internal mantra of the lap became stronger and stronger and the beginnings of a calm replaced the irritation.

I honestly don't know whether that calm represents a distraction from a day to day reality - or a return.

But, I do know I got faster and faster in my simulated reality.

Labor Day Revelation

I have to admit that I am somewhat of a nihilist. Actually, I don't think "somewhat" is entirely accurate; it's more likely wishful thinking.

I find myself from time to time willing to crack the door open a bit and embrace the notion that the enjoyment of a shared experience and appreciation of a common interest argues against my usual pessimistic outlook.

One such occasion came this weekend - a two day autocross event with my local club.

For two days a group of folks who otherwise might rarely intermingle come together because of a shared interest in driving as quickly as possible through a sea of orange cones. The event starts with a parking lot; a blank slate that is transformed into a maze representing the challenge that we will set ourselves upon over the next few days. Out of nothing, we create a shared goal.

The first few runs are tentative. Slowly, each participant learns how to navigate the challenge and the group learns what will define the scope of the task for the day as the times are posted for each run. Tire pressures are tweaked. Strategies are developed and refined. The optimal racing line becomes clearer with each successive run.

And, throughout the day a sense of camaraderie develops as each participant focuses on the spontaneously created quest, testing their ability to adapt and improve, measuring themselves against each other.

The ambient chatter is constant. Is the course good or bad? Does the course flow well? What line to take through such and such turn? What's for lunch?

The seasoned teach and show, the inexperienced watch, listen and learn. Tires squeal and smoke. The stench of brake and clutch is heavy in the air. Numbers accumulate on the grid laid out on the whiteboard.

Finally, the noise stops. The accidental community gathers around the tally board. The meaning of the numbers is discussed and debated. What could have been is bemoaned. What will happen in the future is speculated upon.

Orange cones are collected, stacked and stored.

The parking lot is once again a parking lot.

More on focus

I find it interesting how much the autocross experience depends on your mental state.

The season is beginning to wind down; summer is too. The inevitable shift towards cooler mornings and shorter days is well underway in Montana. The steady shortening of the days picks up steam quickly in Montana once it starts. Cooler mornings are nice; they tend to invigorate.

Another two day session is on the agenda for this weekend - the Labor Day holiday. Preparing for the event, I began reflecting on the last outing.

Things just didn't click. When things don't click, there is no flow. When there is no flow, the results are usually poor. But, more importantly, the experience itself is not satisfying.

The ability to completely focus for that 53 (give or take) seconds is critical to a satisfying run that results in complete absorption and a maximal flow experience. That usually means a better time as well - but not always.

I think I am beginning to understand the concept of wu wei.

We'll see how this weekend goes.

No flow

Top Gun Autocross Event - Helena, Montana - 8/16/2014

There was no flow this day.

That is all.

Never build a race car.

"You never build a race car, you buy a race car."

How many times have I heard that? It is the litany of the hard core addict. Funny how many race cars there are for sale...

A couple of months ago, I realized it was inevitable that I would be gearing up for club racing this winter. Autocross, track days and time trials are just not going to be enough; time to see if I have enough life left to actually run in traffic. That means I needed a real race car. A car with everything non-essential stripped out and replaced with pure function: full roll cage, fire suppression, painted metal floors, etc.

I looked around to buy a race car. Did I mention there are a lot of race cars for sale?

I own a race car for sale. Well, not a real race car and not actively for sale, yet.

I own a heavily modded, but still street legal 2007 Miata. I understand why the rational person would never build a race car. 

Why? 

Because go fast parts are expensive. When you put them on a 2007 Miata and try to sell said Miata, most folks think you still have a 2007 Miata for sale; one that is under a cloud of suspicion as to where it has been and what it has been doing. Never mind that this 2007 Miata has just over 8000 original miles. What has that Miata been doing for 8000 miles? Good question.

Multiple thousands of dollars of go fast parts later, I have a 2007 Miata that I might or might not be willing to sell. Somebody would probably get a pretty good bargain.

That brings me back to the new race car. I tried to be rational. I tried to make the smart decision to buy someone else's investment of time, energy and money at a bargain price because I realize that after the first lap that new race car with all those new go fast parts will depreciate faster than deviled eggs at a summer picnic. 

But, in the end, I could not resist the urge.

I chose to procreate rather than adopt.

53 Seconds of Flow

It's all about the flow.

As I was getting ready for an autocross event last Saturday evening, I started to ponder my newfound attachment to motorsports. Tomorrow's event is 55 miles away. So, after hooking up the trailer, driving to the course and unloading the car, I expect to be about 1 hour and 45 minutes into the day. The event will last about 6 or 7 hours. It will probably take longer that 1 hour and 45 minutes to load the car back into the trailer and drive home.

An autocross "run" typically lasts less than 60 seconds.

On a good day, you might get to run the course a total of 8 times.

8 minutes of seat time.

Seems like a huge imbalance in ROI.

But, those 8 minutes are the most hyper-focused time you will ever spend. Years ago, I stumbled upon the works of Mihaly Czikszentmihalyi describing and studying the state of "flow." (If you are not familiar with the concept, take a look at this video.)

Total immersion for 8 minutes.

I bet you thought when I said "flow," you thought I was talking about being smooth through the cones...

Addictions - the first hit is usually free...

I am not a car guy.

At least that use to be the case. I came to this addiction later in life.

Serendipity is a bitch.

About three years ago, bored enough to find myself cleaning up my home office, I ran across a disc (a "free" disc, mind you, but is anything really free?) for Dirt 3 that I had received several months before with a new graphics card.

What the heck, I loaded it up. It was free after all...

For those of you who are unfamiliar with racing simulations, Dirt 3 is a rally car game. I was hooked from the beginning. It was a little difficult to play with the keyboard, but the graphics were insane.

That led to a steering wheel, gear shift and pedals; more insanity as the immersion of the gameplay began to fuel the addiction. Rally racing is about time - i.e., using less of it to get from point A to point B. ("Who cares if it's midnight. I think I figured out how to take that corner faster this time... and not wrap the car around that tree just beyond the ditch.)

Then came an introduction to iRacing.com.

Then came a standalone "rig" or "cockpit" with a dedicated computer, three 27 inch monitors, much better steering wheel, pedals and various accessories.

iRacing is a true simulation of wheel to wheel racing on various tracks in various cars with various people from all over the world. The tracks are laser scanned at a resolution claimed to be within 2mm of the real thing.

Fascinating.

Did I mention the immersion factor?

I was happy with a simulation of what Ernest Hemingway considered one of the three true sports.

That was until I introduced a friend to my addiction. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this friend was a refugee from the Texas racing culture. While he was somewhat impressed with the state of simulated racing, he quickly pointed out that for the same amount of money I had invested in this diversion, a real race car could be acquired and I could join the ranks of true sportsmen (at least according to Hemingway.)

Off to Skip Barber Racing School at Road Atlanta!

I should have known. The first day we were assigned a partner that we would share a race car with for the next 3 days. My partner was a fellow of similar age who was attending with his college age son. We chatted about why we were here. I told him I just wanted to see what it was all about; thought I would probably never go any further.

He laughed.

This was his second experience at Road Atlanta with Skip Barber. A year prior he had attended a one day introductory course. A Porsche track car, a trailer and thirty track days later he was back for more.

"This is going to cost you a lot more than you realize."

He was right.