July 2005 Race

NASA PRO-RACING “HAUNTED” WILLOW SPRINGS RACEWAY

(July 11-12, 2005)

With all the fluids changed, new brake pads front and rear, 50 gallons of VP race gas stowed away, we’re ready for another event filled weekend of racing at my favorite racetrack, “Haunted” Willow Springs.

We arrived at the track to gale forced 95-degree wind that created hundreds of small dust tornados that picked up everything that wasn’t tied to the ground. There were a couple of dozen trailers parked with their occupants huddling inside and maybe two race cars who dared to test on the track. We unloaded the truck and parked the Laser in our garage and headed to the air-conditioned hotel.

Saturday

It was 7AM and a comfortable 73 degrees as we headed out for our day of racing. The wind was still without a cloud in the sky and my mouth started to crack open with a silly grin. As the track started to come in sight I could see 50 new trailers and a sea of blue vinyl tarps. It was like a carnival had come in overnight less the Farris wheel and 25 cent ring tosses. Then I heard the roar of the motors and could smell oil and fuel and I knew I was home.

I got my car logbook signed and headed to our garage to make preparations for the day’s events. I was checking tire pressures when I heard my wife talking to an unfamiliar voice. I peeked over the hood of the car to see this old dude (well he was older than me anyway) wearing a red hat and red polo shirt with the logo “Bondurant Racing” embroidered on them. He looked over at me and smiled then extended his hand out as he walked towards me. It was like I recognized him but I didn’t. As I reached out to shake his hand it came to me and I said, “Bondurant racing… are you the Bob Bondurant?” He chuckled and said, “Yep, that’s me.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was in the presence of greatness. This man that was shaking my hand had won the 24 hours at Le Mans. He’s like one of the greatest road racers in the world. I asked him what he was doing at Willow Springs and for that sake standing and talking to me in my garage. He laughed and said, “I’m racing here this weekend and wanted to check out the competition.” I thought, “I’m gonna race against Bob Bondurant… oh my God how cool is that?”

We talked for another 20 minutes and he told me amazing stories of his triumphs and defeats and all about his famous racing school in Arizona. I was totally blown away and exited at the same time. It turns out he was there with his son and it was to be the first time the two of them were going to race against each other. What kinds of cars were the Bondurant’s racing you ask? Nothing less than the Factory Five, Ford, 427, Shelby Cobras. How cool is that?

Warm up laps

It’s 9AM and I’m on the track starting with some easy laps. The car sounded great like usual with good water and exhaust gas temps, and the oil pressure was as steady as a rock. I’m taking full advantage of my warm ups because there’s always something new to learn at Willow Springs, especially at turn nine. As my tires warmed up I started to push a little harder then harder. I love running early morning because the track is cold enough and your tires get hot enough to put down some decent lap times. The car was handling great with power to spare and I had a good feeling about that afternoon’s race. With my track time over I parked the car in the garage and checked my tire pressures. All was good and qualifying was only an hour and a half away.

Qualifying

“Group B to grid for qualifying!” blasted over the sound system. I’m taking my time getting in the car because I usually sit for ten minutes in grid waiting to go out on the track. It was at least 90 degrees by this time so sitting in a car without any insulation can get pretty toasty. Ready to go I drove around the corner towards grid. There was a line of at least a half dozen or more Cobras parked by the inside wall waiting to go out. Then there was a shorter line of three or four cars that I came up behind. I figured I had a couple of minutes before we went out onto the track so I usually use this time to turn on the Hoyt Tech in-car camera system. But no! The minute I pulled up behind the car we got waved onto the track. I thought, “Crap!” I kept on driving and pulled onto the hot pit lane to make my entrance to the end of the front straight. When we qualify it’s all balls out the minute your front wheels hit the track. The cars in front of me went pedal to the metal and I started to try to turn on the camera system. So there I was, looking up then looking down, accelerating, turning, braking, looking up then down again. What a friggen joke! I couldn’t get the camera switch on because I was wearing my gloves, when all of a sudden this roar of big bore 427s came flying by me. I’m lucky I didn’t run off the road. Wouldn’t that have been a sight? So do I say screw it and give my full attention to my driving? Of course not! I begin to screw with the camera again thinking, “I need to get some video of me racing against Bob Bondurant,” when another group of cars came screaming by and scared the living crap out of me for the second time.

I’m no fool! Two times in a row! Give me a break! I down shifted to second hit 7000 rpm and it was off to the races. I could see the Cobras were about a half of a lap in front of me but I kept my cool knowing my tires weren’t warm enough to give chase. “I mean this is qualifying what do I have to prove?” I thought to myself. That thought lasted about a second and a half as my right foot went to the floor.
Down the front straight my yellow DSM took chase like a flying hornet about to attack its first victim. When I hit turn one I could feel the back end swinging out and I accelerated hard pulling the car forward. The tires heated up as I flew around the little turn two sweeper. I could see little Cobra butts getting closer and closer. I thought to myself, “I don’t know which Cobra Bob Bondurant is driving, I guess I’ll just have to pass them all!” By the second lap I’d passed four of them with two of them waving me by. By lap four I had two Cobras to go and by lap six they were only a memory in my past. I mean how sweet was that, my little 1990, four cylinder, turbo charged Laser, blowing by a bunch of big bad Ford 427 Shelby Cobras.

With qualifying complete I put the car in the garage for a little nap before the race.

The race

Super Unlimited class consisted of eight cars that race. A 800HP tube framed Pro-truck took pole, followed by the Axis twin turbo Nissan Z, an SRT turbo dodge, two fully built American Iron Mustangs, my Laser, a CMC V8 Camaro, and a second gen RX7. The top four of us qualified within 4 tenths of a second apart from each other.

The field was set and the rolling split start put the Super Unlimited class just behind four Super 7 tube framed 3rd gen RX7s. The rest of the race groups started behind us with a second flag. Air temperature was about 97 degrees making it about 120 degrees in the car. I wore my Cool Shirt, which is a cotton T-shirt with I-V type pipes sewn about an inch apart around the entire shirt. Then there’s a cooler in the back of my car that holds a block of ice and water with an electric pump that pumps the cold water through the I-V lines on my shirt. It works really well and is a total luxury when you’re sitting in a hot sardine can.

It’s race time and we’re on our warm up lap rounding turn nine towards the front straight behind the pace car. We formed up in a tight two by two group creeping down the track waiting for the green flag. I’m thinking about how these two Mustangs managed to qualify in front of me so I’m a man on a mission.

Green, green, green, and we were off. I got right on the butt of the Mustang in front of me and he was fast enough to pull away from the Mustang on my side. With just enough room I steered right in front of the Mustang on my side and blew up the middle leaving the other Mustang behind. Then the whole race group bunched up at turn one with brake lights and smoking brake pads. The lead tube framed RX7 was going so fast around turn two his car flew off the track, skidded 100 feet, and hit a six foot high dirt burm. The front end of his car was totaled. We got a full lap in at race speed before they double yellow flagged us for an emergency crew. After a lap behind the pace car we were off again. The Axis Nissan, the SRT, and myself were dicing it up pretty good. We matched each other’s turns and speeds with a little friendly blocking by the Axis car. Every time I looked in my mirrors I saw nothing and when I could see far enough in front of me the remaining RX7s seemed within striking distance.

We blew down the front straight to turn one when I went to down shift and nothing. There was not a gear to be found. I blew my tranny. Holy crap!! It happened again at “haunted” Willow Springs. Another DNF. I couldn’t believe it. I was speechless. I limped off the track to the inside of the apex of turn two and watched as the field of cars blew by. My wife was manning a video camera at the balcony and said she started to cry when she didn’t see my car go by. With another double yellow flag and a pace car lap they towed the Laser to the garage. I climbed out shaking my head in total disbelief.

Aftermath

We towed the car home the following day and rolled it into the garage. Today is Wednesday and I have yet to look at it.

I did watch the Hoyt Tech in-car video and was really pleased with what I saw. I had the picture in picture mode on with one camera shooting out the front windshield and the other one out the rear. It was so cool to see how we diced it up during the beginning of the race and after the second green flag. It was especially cool to see how I left the cars in the dust behind me once we got racing.

I’ve got a whole month and a half until the next race to fix the car. I already contacted John Shepherd so I guess it’s getting time to go in to the garage. The only thing that concerns me is my next race; it’s back to “haunted” Willow Springs.

Greg