If you've read all the previous posts in chronological order, you're probably thinking, "Get on with it! I want to see what the driving was like!"
Well buckle up. Cars are on track.
The following video is from my best session of both days, and the one I referred to the most in other posts. This is just one of 6 laps for this session, and includes captions.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Getting the Idea - Theory Becomes Practice
I won't bother with recounting the on-track events day by day. I'll just give you an overview of the driving and the process in becoming quicker.
Firstly, here are some images of the track for orientation...
Turn-by-turn view, with names.
Elevation map
The Neon is very stable. It carves corners very capably. The tires I had put on just a few months prior were doing a terrific job. Way better than stock or stock-fit replacements. I'm sure I never got all the way up to the grip limit since I was holding back to protect the equipment (and let's face it, I didn't have the nerve to find what 10/10ths really was just yet). I did discover after both morning sessions that I was pushing the tires more and more. At the end of the second session on Day 2, I could easily see the telltale melted finish one sees on race car tires.
Mine were not chunking or building up gobs like this race slick shows (an extreme example), but the surface was beginning to resemble this slightly. They were noticeably warm, and even a bit sticky to the touch. Sure signs that I was pushing the car harder in the corners and getting more out of the tires.
During my second run of Day 2, I was actually pushing the car to the point where I could feel the tires squirming under me. I had already felt the telltale 'push' of understeer before... the Neon is, after all, a front engine, front wheel drive car, so its very design induces understeer. But as I got faster, I could start to feel the rear beginning to rotate just the slightest bit. Not sliding, mind you, but they were definitely doing more in the corners than just playing follow-the-leader. The visceral, seat-of-the-pants feel I'd only ever been slightly aware of was coming into sharper focus. My senses were extending out beyond my earlier limits and I was feeling the car more and more. Sight and sound were becoming secondary to the vestibular world I was more deeply entering.
Be the car? Nah.
More like becoming a human-automobile chimera.
Anyway. Enough meandering into philosophical tangents.
Where my poor little Neon suffered was in the power department. In the mid-90's, it's SOHC 2-liter four-banger was pretty potent. Rated at 132 hp and 129 lb-ft of torque, it was very capable for its class. Sadly, the grunt reaching the wheels, 100 hp if I'm lucky, is fairly outdated now. While I worked my way up to keeping pace with several BMW's in the corners, they, and everyone else, for that matter, ate me alive on the straights. It didn't help that I was ignoring almost 2,000 rpms to protect the motor. But even if I'd wrung out every last drop all the way up to redline, I just didn't have what it took to keep pace. Oh well. We're not racing. But I sure did have to give a lot of point-bys to let faster cars go around.
Braking became my real concern. During my first session on Day 1, I was quickly introduced to brake-fade. It's a disconcerting feeling when you're braking hard from high speed and the pedal starts sinking lower and lower, and you're not slowing any more. Despite the high performance pads/rotors, and higher temp fluid, I had to learn how to brake all over again. I had been braking too lightly, but for too long, and this built up heat to the point where my braking force diminished. Blake told me to stand on the brake pedal much harder, but for a shorter time to minimize the opportunity for heating. It took me a while to develop the feel for this, but within a session this became natural. I still actively thought about the braking more than I should have, so I'd sometimes screw up my timing. But by day 2, I was comfortably braking hard and keeping the system at a reliable performance level. Of course, as my speeds increased, I had to adapt my braking even further, so I still encountered fade sporadically, but never like I did the first time out.
Ok. So how fast did you go, Pete?
Average speed? Looking at my in-car video footage during my fastest session, I was lapping pretty consistently at almost exactly 3 minutes a lap (+/-1 second for off the cuff timing). At 3.44 miles per lap, that works out to an average speed of about 68.8 mph.
Top speed? At the end of the back straight I was doing around 97 mph in 5th gear. On the front straight it was around 90 mph in 4th.
Cornering speed? Well, I didn't look at the speedometer much (focusing on the tach more often), but I did manage to snag a look in certain spots. Uphill through the Esses I managed 85mph in 4th gear. Turn 6, the downhill left into The Boot, I was exiting at 70-75, depending on my entry speed and the accuracy of my turn. This was probably among the fastest corner speeds I achieved.
Sharper corners, like Turn 1, The 90, were probably around 50-ish (judging by when I shifted from 3rd gear at 5,000rpms, into 4th). In fact, most corners were taken in 3rd, so I was within the rev range for that gear, usually 50-75mph. Actually, 75mph in 3rd gear was above my chosen rev limit. I was turning 5,500 rpm's at that speed, which I did occasionally. Usually this was dictated by my speed while still in a corner. Since you don't want to shift in a turn, as this can destabilize the car, I just left it in gear and wound it out til it was safe to shift. The 2 places this happened were coming out of turn 5, the sweeping Outer Loop, and as mentioned before, Turn 6 going into the Boot. This happened if I got my braking/entry speed, turn-in, and apex all in sync, and therefore carried more speed into the corner. The more speed I could carry through the corner (while still having the right line to hold it), the more speed I carried out at the exit. Hence, hitting my limit before I could shift. This is ordinarily the most desirable outcome, because it's faster, plain and simple. But because I wanted to protect the motor, I was effectively cutting myself off early most of the time. A shame, too, as a low powered car is so dependent on momentum in order to maintain speed.
Any hairy moments out there, Pete?
During my very first session on Day 1, I did have a big 4-wheel off at turn 1, The 90. I simply misjudged my entry, as many novices do, and overshot the exit. I went wide of the exit rumble strip and out into the runoff. I kept it straight and merged back onto the track. Again, I'm glad to have seen race cars do this same thing, and so knew to just keep the car stable and rejoin smoothly. A non-event when measured against what often happens there, but it did crystallize some of my instruction in a single moment, and I came away with a better understanding of the limit there. I didn't repeat that mistake.
I also got to experience what happens to the limits when the track gets wet. On Day 2, we developed a light but pretty steady rain during lunch which persisted through the afternoon. My third session of the day was in the wet, and it was yet another re-education. Blake had me deliberately lock up under braking so we could both see what my car's new limit was reduced to. This was a controlled event, so it was no big deal. However, later on, when braking for the last corner, turn 11, I locked the car up in a wide-eyed moment. The car just wiggled and skated on ahead to the surprise of both of us. It was easy to recover, and nothing happened other than having to correct my line and lose more speed in the process. But it certainly illustrated the variable nature of wet conditions. The big plus in all this, however, was that despite my continued lack of power when compared to everyone else, I actually had one of the best handling cars in the corners. No longer was I merely keeping pace with BMW's through the turns... I was actually catching them and closing the distance between us. But rain doesn't hinder straight line speed, so they'd all take off again. But I found myself passed only once or twice during the whole wet session.
I did manage to utterly hold off one car during this whole session. A late model Ford Crown Victoria (think police cars of recent years). A freakin boat! It had twice the motor I did, but it weighed about a million pounds and possessed the handling of boulder. He fell behind me rapidly in the braking zones and corners, losing a lot of ground. In the straights he'd pour on all the extra grunt he had and catch back up to me. Wash, rinse repeat. We spent most of the whole session in this rubber band formation.
Firstly, here are some images of the track for orientation...
Turn-by-turn view, with names.
Elevation mapThe Neon is very stable. It carves corners very capably. The tires I had put on just a few months prior were doing a terrific job. Way better than stock or stock-fit replacements. I'm sure I never got all the way up to the grip limit since I was holding back to protect the equipment (and let's face it, I didn't have the nerve to find what 10/10ths really was just yet). I did discover after both morning sessions that I was pushing the tires more and more. At the end of the second session on Day 2, I could easily see the telltale melted finish one sees on race car tires.
Mine were not chunking or building up gobs like this race slick shows (an extreme example), but the surface was beginning to resemble this slightly. They were noticeably warm, and even a bit sticky to the touch. Sure signs that I was pushing the car harder in the corners and getting more out of the tires.During my second run of Day 2, I was actually pushing the car to the point where I could feel the tires squirming under me. I had already felt the telltale 'push' of understeer before... the Neon is, after all, a front engine, front wheel drive car, so its very design induces understeer. But as I got faster, I could start to feel the rear beginning to rotate just the slightest bit. Not sliding, mind you, but they were definitely doing more in the corners than just playing follow-the-leader. The visceral, seat-of-the-pants feel I'd only ever been slightly aware of was coming into sharper focus. My senses were extending out beyond my earlier limits and I was feeling the car more and more. Sight and sound were becoming secondary to the vestibular world I was more deeply entering.
Be the car? Nah.
More like becoming a human-automobile chimera.
Anyway. Enough meandering into philosophical tangents.
Where my poor little Neon suffered was in the power department. In the mid-90's, it's SOHC 2-liter four-banger was pretty potent. Rated at 132 hp and 129 lb-ft of torque, it was very capable for its class. Sadly, the grunt reaching the wheels, 100 hp if I'm lucky, is fairly outdated now. While I worked my way up to keeping pace with several BMW's in the corners, they, and everyone else, for that matter, ate me alive on the straights. It didn't help that I was ignoring almost 2,000 rpms to protect the motor. But even if I'd wrung out every last drop all the way up to redline, I just didn't have what it took to keep pace. Oh well. We're not racing. But I sure did have to give a lot of point-bys to let faster cars go around.
Braking became my real concern. During my first session on Day 1, I was quickly introduced to brake-fade. It's a disconcerting feeling when you're braking hard from high speed and the pedal starts sinking lower and lower, and you're not slowing any more. Despite the high performance pads/rotors, and higher temp fluid, I had to learn how to brake all over again. I had been braking too lightly, but for too long, and this built up heat to the point where my braking force diminished. Blake told me to stand on the brake pedal much harder, but for a shorter time to minimize the opportunity for heating. It took me a while to develop the feel for this, but within a session this became natural. I still actively thought about the braking more than I should have, so I'd sometimes screw up my timing. But by day 2, I was comfortably braking hard and keeping the system at a reliable performance level. Of course, as my speeds increased, I had to adapt my braking even further, so I still encountered fade sporadically, but never like I did the first time out.
Ok. So how fast did you go, Pete?
Average speed? Looking at my in-car video footage during my fastest session, I was lapping pretty consistently at almost exactly 3 minutes a lap (+/-1 second for off the cuff timing). At 3.44 miles per lap, that works out to an average speed of about 68.8 mph.
Top speed? At the end of the back straight I was doing around 97 mph in 5th gear. On the front straight it was around 90 mph in 4th.
Cornering speed? Well, I didn't look at the speedometer much (focusing on the tach more often), but I did manage to snag a look in certain spots. Uphill through the Esses I managed 85mph in 4th gear. Turn 6, the downhill left into The Boot, I was exiting at 70-75, depending on my entry speed and the accuracy of my turn. This was probably among the fastest corner speeds I achieved.
Sharper corners, like Turn 1, The 90, were probably around 50-ish (judging by when I shifted from 3rd gear at 5,000rpms, into 4th). In fact, most corners were taken in 3rd, so I was within the rev range for that gear, usually 50-75mph. Actually, 75mph in 3rd gear was above my chosen rev limit. I was turning 5,500 rpm's at that speed, which I did occasionally. Usually this was dictated by my speed while still in a corner. Since you don't want to shift in a turn, as this can destabilize the car, I just left it in gear and wound it out til it was safe to shift. The 2 places this happened were coming out of turn 5, the sweeping Outer Loop, and as mentioned before, Turn 6 going into the Boot. This happened if I got my braking/entry speed, turn-in, and apex all in sync, and therefore carried more speed into the corner. The more speed I could carry through the corner (while still having the right line to hold it), the more speed I carried out at the exit. Hence, hitting my limit before I could shift. This is ordinarily the most desirable outcome, because it's faster, plain and simple. But because I wanted to protect the motor, I was effectively cutting myself off early most of the time. A shame, too, as a low powered car is so dependent on momentum in order to maintain speed.
Any hairy moments out there, Pete?
During my very first session on Day 1, I did have a big 4-wheel off at turn 1, The 90. I simply misjudged my entry, as many novices do, and overshot the exit. I went wide of the exit rumble strip and out into the runoff. I kept it straight and merged back onto the track. Again, I'm glad to have seen race cars do this same thing, and so knew to just keep the car stable and rejoin smoothly. A non-event when measured against what often happens there, but it did crystallize some of my instruction in a single moment, and I came away with a better understanding of the limit there. I didn't repeat that mistake.
I also got to experience what happens to the limits when the track gets wet. On Day 2, we developed a light but pretty steady rain during lunch which persisted through the afternoon. My third session of the day was in the wet, and it was yet another re-education. Blake had me deliberately lock up under braking so we could both see what my car's new limit was reduced to. This was a controlled event, so it was no big deal. However, later on, when braking for the last corner, turn 11, I locked the car up in a wide-eyed moment. The car just wiggled and skated on ahead to the surprise of both of us. It was easy to recover, and nothing happened other than having to correct my line and lose more speed in the process. But it certainly illustrated the variable nature of wet conditions. The big plus in all this, however, was that despite my continued lack of power when compared to everyone else, I actually had one of the best handling cars in the corners. No longer was I merely keeping pace with BMW's through the turns... I was actually catching them and closing the distance between us. But rain doesn't hinder straight line speed, so they'd all take off again. But I found myself passed only once or twice during the whole wet session.
I did manage to utterly hold off one car during this whole session. A late model Ford Crown Victoria (think police cars of recent years). A freakin boat! It had twice the motor I did, but it weighed about a million pounds and possessed the handling of boulder. He fell behind me rapidly in the braking zones and corners, losing a lot of ground. In the straights he'd pour on all the extra grunt he had and catch back up to me. Wash, rinse repeat. We spent most of the whole session in this rubber band formation.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Getting Up to Speed - Highs and Lows
My Neon made it through tech without so much as a second glance. I was given my student packet, which included, most importantly, my car number window stickers!
Just call me 27c!
We're numbered alphabetically, and the car groups are lettered. Novices like myself were all C's. Intermediates were B's, Advanced were A's, and Instructors were I's. Pretty simple, yes?
I was assigned an instructor by the name of Blake Smith. He's a very decent guy with a slightly kooky sense of humor. He's also a helluva driver as I'd discover later on. His instructing style is encouraging and attentive. He always tried to push me further (as is the point of high performance) but never pushed me too hard out of my comfort zone. Just gradually encouraged me to find and then exceed each new limit.
Blake was particularly patient with my self-imposed rev limit for the event. I was not willing to risk losing the motor as this is my daily car. As I've said in earlier posts, the age and condition of the vehicle, especially the engine, limited my confidence in the stresses the car could withstand. I set a limit of 5,000 rpms, which was nearly 2,000 short of the redline. I knew I would be giving up power and speed to do so, but I simply could not afford to take the risk of breaking something. This car was about to face 2 days (approximately 200 miles) of stress I'd never subjected it to in the past.
Following a general all-drivers meeting, each group had initial classroom instruction, which in the case of the Novice group, was very basic. Extremely basic, in fact, for someone who is familiar with the concepts involved, and has experience in computer simulated racing. While I went in with the attitude that sim racing is *not* real experience, I was confident that my familiarity with the principles gave me a solid foundation to build upon.
We then went to our cars, picked up our instructors, and hit the track. We started out pretty quickly. More quickly than I was expecting. I'm glad I already knew the track, from both sim racing, as well as actual driving (both in pace car tours and traveling to flagging stations when I work at the track). I imagine the learning curve was much steeper for those who didn't know the track well.
We did two 25-minute sessions in the morning, along with additional half-hour classes. After lunch, students got to ride in their instructor's cars for a session.
Blake's car is a BMW E30 M3, I believe. Pretty similar to this, but stripped of most road-going features, and fitted with a full cage, racing seats, harnesses, etc. His car is a serious piece of track machinery.
I had never before taken a corner at 100+mph. I had never gone hurtling at 130+ before slamming the brakes on and whipping through a corner so hard you can barely hold your head up. A proper race car in the hands of a proper driver on a proper track is, without a doubt, the very best roller coaster you can ride.
Afterward we had more class instruction and 2 more driving sessions. I found that having experienced what I did in the passenger seat opened my eyes a little wider to what I could do with my own car (on a smaller scale, of course... it's still a tired old Neon). Some of the instructions and encouragements that Blake had given me earlier made more sense. So I found I was quicker than before, as the lessons and experiences were coming together.
After my last session I was scheduled to attend a car control clinic. A rudimentary autocross in the paddock consisting of a slalom, a hard acceleration and braking zone, and a figure-8. We had to complete this and be signed off in order to drive again the next day.
Unfortunately, my car didn't complete even one run. At the end of the slalom, making a hard left onto the acceleration section, the engine suddenly bogged and began misfiring terribly. I pulled the car off course. I had no clue what would be the cause. Despite my efforts to do my own wrenching on the car, I simply lack enough experience to know how to trouble shoot all sorts of issues.
I limped the car back to the main parking area and called my dad to brainstorm with him. I decoded the check engine code via him checking the internet back at his house. No help there. "Multiple engine misfires" was the code. Well, duh! We concluded that the car was done for the time being, but it would have to be trailered home. He would go pick up his trailer and come pick me and the car up within the hour (thankfully, we each live only 20-30 miles, respectively, from Watkins).
In the meantime I caught up with Blake and told him I was probably out for the second day. He heard my tale of woe and suggested that I go talk to another instructor named Roy. So I did. Turns out Roy is something of a mechanical whiz. He also knows Neons inside and out, having rally raced one with over 200k miles on it. I explained my problem. He grabbed a ratchet, a 10mm socket and followed me to my car. We determined which cylinder wasn't firing, and he then pulled the fuel rail off the head. He then popped the corresponding fuel injector and showed me how clogged it was, We scrounged some carb cleaner and he blasted all the injectors out. Put the works back together and the damn thing fired right up.
Ho-lee shit!
Mere moments after it started my step mom calls saying that they're just leaving. I tell her, stay home.
I'm back in business!
The only remaining thorn, though... I missed the last car control clinic. There wouldn't be any more. Zip. None. The car was running again, but I was still screwed for coming back the next day.
Roy rides to the rescue again.
I had mentioned this to him while we were beaming over the paddock repair success. He, Blake, and Boz (the guy who invited me to attend) all assured me that a mechanical problem shouldn't disqualify me. And wouldn't you know it, a short while later, Roy comes walking back to my car with the window sticker for the car control clinic (an orange cone, appropriately enough).
Yep. Now I'm really back in business.
So we all head over to the main garage where the end-of-day party is just getting going. Time to nosh some chow, drink some beer, and all around talk cars and driving with people from all different levels.
And speaking of Roy.
I learned from a fellow driver, Steve, who was Roy's B-group student, that Roy is kind of a big deal in BMW circles. Turns out, Roy Hopkins and Adrienne Hughes won the Targa Newfoundland in 2007. Now I'd never heard of this race, but when I looked it up, I found it really is a pretty big deal.
He was even driving the same '69 BMW 2002 (nicknamed "Woodstock" for it's wild paint scheme) at the Glen that had won that race.
And Roy just happened to be right there, happy to help a fellow driver fix a problem (2, if you count the sticker).
Thanks Roy.
What a helluva day.
Just call me 27c!
We're numbered alphabetically, and the car groups are lettered. Novices like myself were all C's. Intermediates were B's, Advanced were A's, and Instructors were I's. Pretty simple, yes?
I was assigned an instructor by the name of Blake Smith. He's a very decent guy with a slightly kooky sense of humor. He's also a helluva driver as I'd discover later on. His instructing style is encouraging and attentive. He always tried to push me further (as is the point of high performance) but never pushed me too hard out of my comfort zone. Just gradually encouraged me to find and then exceed each new limit.
Blake was particularly patient with my self-imposed rev limit for the event. I was not willing to risk losing the motor as this is my daily car. As I've said in earlier posts, the age and condition of the vehicle, especially the engine, limited my confidence in the stresses the car could withstand. I set a limit of 5,000 rpms, which was nearly 2,000 short of the redline. I knew I would be giving up power and speed to do so, but I simply could not afford to take the risk of breaking something. This car was about to face 2 days (approximately 200 miles) of stress I'd never subjected it to in the past.
Following a general all-drivers meeting, each group had initial classroom instruction, which in the case of the Novice group, was very basic. Extremely basic, in fact, for someone who is familiar with the concepts involved, and has experience in computer simulated racing. While I went in with the attitude that sim racing is *not* real experience, I was confident that my familiarity with the principles gave me a solid foundation to build upon.
We then went to our cars, picked up our instructors, and hit the track. We started out pretty quickly. More quickly than I was expecting. I'm glad I already knew the track, from both sim racing, as well as actual driving (both in pace car tours and traveling to flagging stations when I work at the track). I imagine the learning curve was much steeper for those who didn't know the track well.
We did two 25-minute sessions in the morning, along with additional half-hour classes. After lunch, students got to ride in their instructor's cars for a session.
Blake's car is a BMW E30 M3, I believe. Pretty similar to this, but stripped of most road-going features, and fitted with a full cage, racing seats, harnesses, etc. His car is a serious piece of track machinery.I had never before taken a corner at 100+mph. I had never gone hurtling at 130+ before slamming the brakes on and whipping through a corner so hard you can barely hold your head up. A proper race car in the hands of a proper driver on a proper track is, without a doubt, the very best roller coaster you can ride.
Afterward we had more class instruction and 2 more driving sessions. I found that having experienced what I did in the passenger seat opened my eyes a little wider to what I could do with my own car (on a smaller scale, of course... it's still a tired old Neon). Some of the instructions and encouragements that Blake had given me earlier made more sense. So I found I was quicker than before, as the lessons and experiences were coming together.
After my last session I was scheduled to attend a car control clinic. A rudimentary autocross in the paddock consisting of a slalom, a hard acceleration and braking zone, and a figure-8. We had to complete this and be signed off in order to drive again the next day.
Unfortunately, my car didn't complete even one run. At the end of the slalom, making a hard left onto the acceleration section, the engine suddenly bogged and began misfiring terribly. I pulled the car off course. I had no clue what would be the cause. Despite my efforts to do my own wrenching on the car, I simply lack enough experience to know how to trouble shoot all sorts of issues.
I limped the car back to the main parking area and called my dad to brainstorm with him. I decoded the check engine code via him checking the internet back at his house. No help there. "Multiple engine misfires" was the code. Well, duh! We concluded that the car was done for the time being, but it would have to be trailered home. He would go pick up his trailer and come pick me and the car up within the hour (thankfully, we each live only 20-30 miles, respectively, from Watkins).
In the meantime I caught up with Blake and told him I was probably out for the second day. He heard my tale of woe and suggested that I go talk to another instructor named Roy. So I did. Turns out Roy is something of a mechanical whiz. He also knows Neons inside and out, having rally raced one with over 200k miles on it. I explained my problem. He grabbed a ratchet, a 10mm socket and followed me to my car. We determined which cylinder wasn't firing, and he then pulled the fuel rail off the head. He then popped the corresponding fuel injector and showed me how clogged it was, We scrounged some carb cleaner and he blasted all the injectors out. Put the works back together and the damn thing fired right up.
Ho-lee shit!
Mere moments after it started my step mom calls saying that they're just leaving. I tell her, stay home.
I'm back in business!
The only remaining thorn, though... I missed the last car control clinic. There wouldn't be any more. Zip. None. The car was running again, but I was still screwed for coming back the next day.
Roy rides to the rescue again.
I had mentioned this to him while we were beaming over the paddock repair success. He, Blake, and Boz (the guy who invited me to attend) all assured me that a mechanical problem shouldn't disqualify me. And wouldn't you know it, a short while later, Roy comes walking back to my car with the window sticker for the car control clinic (an orange cone, appropriately enough).
Yep. Now I'm really back in business.So we all head over to the main garage where the end-of-day party is just getting going. Time to nosh some chow, drink some beer, and all around talk cars and driving with people from all different levels.
And speaking of Roy.
I learned from a fellow driver, Steve, who was Roy's B-group student, that Roy is kind of a big deal in BMW circles. Turns out, Roy Hopkins and Adrienne Hughes won the Targa Newfoundland in 2007. Now I'd never heard of this race, but when I looked it up, I found it really is a pretty big deal.
He was even driving the same '69 BMW 2002 (nicknamed "Woodstock" for it's wild paint scheme) at the Glen that had won that race.And Roy just happened to be right there, happy to help a fellow driver fix a problem (2, if you count the sticker).
Thanks Roy.
What a helluva day.
Getting There - Blood sacrifices to the car gods
So my car was by no means ready to throw around a race track. First there were basic safety concerns. GVC-BMWCCA was very clear about their requirements in this area.
I ended up having to finally replace my rotted out exhaust system (central NY salty winters tend to have this effect). I replaced it with a stock catalytic converter and a Pacesetter Monza system (very throaty growl without the obnoxious fart-can sound the rice boys seem to have an obscene fetish for).
I also had a nasty fuel leak in the filler neck. Another salt-rotted part, and hideously expensive to purchase a new replacement. I ended up finding one through salvage, fortunately, but it was a long search.
I also flushed the brake system with higher temp fluid, and replaced the front pads and rotors with high performance parts. Neither case was necessary for street use, but on the track I'd need the better quality. The rear brakes had been rebuilt new about 6 months prior, so I was good there.
Lastly, for whatever reason, Dodge had not felt that my Base model, despite having a 5 speed manual tranny, would need a tachometer. I'd wanted one for a long while, but never justified the effort. But with much higher revs looming in my near future, I wanted to once and for all see what the motor was turning. Like I said in my previous post, this car is 11 years old and a touch neglected. I would be keeping a very vigilant eye on the stresses I would be putting on the motor. This is, after all, my only vehicle, and I would still need to be able to drive this thing afterward. Anyway, I located a tach-equipped cluster for cheap in salvage and swapped it with my existing one. Bingo! Plug and play. Worked like a charm.
I didn't do anything about tires, as I had bought fresh rubber just a few months earlier. I upsized the rims from 14" to 15", but stayed with the generic black, stamped steel. Sporty cast/forged rims were just too expensive. And besides, I like the sleeper look they give the car (again, I just hate that whole rice-boy, fake racer look). I wrapped the rims in Hankook Ventus HRII's in 205/50 R15, which is a big jump from the 185/65 R14 that came stock. The difference was immediately noticeable in street driving. So in preparing for the school, I felt pretty good about the shoes my car was already wearing.
I did leave one item unattended, and that was a leaking rear strut. I hadn't noticed any change in the car's handling since I discovered the leak a month or so before, so I was hoping it would go unnoticed at inspection. There was simply no way I could afford, in both money and time, new struts on top of everything else I'd spent already. I'd just have to make do.
I did all the work myself, along with help from 2 indispensable people. I doubt I'd have gotten through the hurdles I faced without their assistance and camaraderie.
I ended up having to finally replace my rotted out exhaust system (central NY salty winters tend to have this effect). I replaced it with a stock catalytic converter and a Pacesetter Monza system (very throaty growl without the obnoxious fart-can sound the rice boys seem to have an obscene fetish for).
I also had a nasty fuel leak in the filler neck. Another salt-rotted part, and hideously expensive to purchase a new replacement. I ended up finding one through salvage, fortunately, but it was a long search.
I also flushed the brake system with higher temp fluid, and replaced the front pads and rotors with high performance parts. Neither case was necessary for street use, but on the track I'd need the better quality. The rear brakes had been rebuilt new about 6 months prior, so I was good there.
Lastly, for whatever reason, Dodge had not felt that my Base model, despite having a 5 speed manual tranny, would need a tachometer. I'd wanted one for a long while, but never justified the effort. But with much higher revs looming in my near future, I wanted to once and for all see what the motor was turning. Like I said in my previous post, this car is 11 years old and a touch neglected. I would be keeping a very vigilant eye on the stresses I would be putting on the motor. This is, after all, my only vehicle, and I would still need to be able to drive this thing afterward. Anyway, I located a tach-equipped cluster for cheap in salvage and swapped it with my existing one. Bingo! Plug and play. Worked like a charm.
I didn't do anything about tires, as I had bought fresh rubber just a few months earlier. I upsized the rims from 14" to 15", but stayed with the generic black, stamped steel. Sporty cast/forged rims were just too expensive. And besides, I like the sleeper look they give the car (again, I just hate that whole rice-boy, fake racer look). I wrapped the rims in Hankook Ventus HRII's in 205/50 R15, which is a big jump from the 185/65 R14 that came stock. The difference was immediately noticeable in street driving. So in preparing for the school, I felt pretty good about the shoes my car was already wearing.
I did leave one item unattended, and that was a leaking rear strut. I hadn't noticed any change in the car's handling since I discovered the leak a month or so before, so I was hoping it would go unnoticed at inspection. There was simply no way I could afford, in both money and time, new struts on top of everything else I'd spent already. I'd just have to make do.
I did all the work myself, along with help from 2 indispensable people. I doubt I'd have gotten through the hurdles I faced without their assistance and camaraderie.
- My dad is a long time car guy, and was just completing a restoration on a 1960 TR3A. I've frequently made use of his well stocked garage and his considerable experience in other maintenance jobs in the past. On this job, he added a third hand when I was wrestling with the fuel filler neck.
- Ron Clark is a friend of mine from work. He's a former dirt modified racer, and mechanic/crew member on his bother Jeremy's NASCAR Nationwide-East car. Ron helped me the most on this project, particularly with the exhaust and the brakes. He also loaned me his helmet for the school.
Getting Started - Introductions
On August 27th and 28th of 2008, I participated in a high performance driving school at Watkins Glen International race track. This was hosted by the Genesee Valley chapter of the BMW Car Club of America (GVC-BMWCCA). I was invited to participate at no cost as part of an agreement between the club and Race Services, Inc, who I volunteer with at the Glen (see my blog, Waving Yellow, on my ongoing experience as a flagging and communications worker. It's woefully out of date as of today, 9/13/08, but it will get you started).
My invitation came directly from a fellow flagger by the name of Bill 'Boz' Boswell. He's a BMWCCA member and what I would call the ambassador between both groups. Every year BMWCCA extends an invite like this to a flagger as a way of saying thanks for the work. This is way better than a barbecue some other groups provide (not that I mind BBQ, thank you very much, but driving trumps everything in my book).
Now I just want this to be perfectly clear from the start. I don't have a BMW. Most of the participants in the driving school do, because they're mostly club members. But the school is open to the public as well, and all sorts of track-worthy cars are permitted. In my case, I would be sporting my 1997 Dodge Neon. A SOHC Base model at that. It's old, it's a bit tired, and it's been a bit more neglected in the maintenance department more than I'm proud to admit. However, it's only got 84,000 miles on it, and I've tended to be fairly conservative with how much I pushed it in the 11 years I've owned it.
But a Neon? Isn't that a wheezy, girly econo-box?
In some eyes, almost certainly. But back when this was new, Neons (specifically the ACR model) were dominating in SCCA racing around the country. They were ahead of their time in terms of power. Sure, Honda Civics had superior handling, but the Neon had gobs more torque and horsepower than most cars in their class. And this was in stock trim. When prepped for racing, they were a force to be reckoned with.
OK. Enough rationalizing. My Neon is simply no longer capable of keeping up with most production cars in the same general class. Just a fact of advances in technology. But it is a perfect starter car for a novice in high performance driving. It's got good response, adequate power, and some very capable handling. In short, it's a solid rolling classroom.
But prior to taking my car to flog around the legendary and incredibly fast circuit that is the Glen, I had to put some work into the old girl.
My invitation came directly from a fellow flagger by the name of Bill 'Boz' Boswell. He's a BMWCCA member and what I would call the ambassador between both groups. Every year BMWCCA extends an invite like this to a flagger as a way of saying thanks for the work. This is way better than a barbecue some other groups provide (not that I mind BBQ, thank you very much, but driving trumps everything in my book).
Now I just want this to be perfectly clear from the start. I don't have a BMW. Most of the participants in the driving school do, because they're mostly club members. But the school is open to the public as well, and all sorts of track-worthy cars are permitted. In my case, I would be sporting my 1997 Dodge Neon. A SOHC Base model at that. It's old, it's a bit tired, and it's been a bit more neglected in the maintenance department more than I'm proud to admit. However, it's only got 84,000 miles on it, and I've tended to be fairly conservative with how much I pushed it in the 11 years I've owned it.
But a Neon? Isn't that a wheezy, girly econo-box?
In some eyes, almost certainly. But back when this was new, Neons (specifically the ACR model) were dominating in SCCA racing around the country. They were ahead of their time in terms of power. Sure, Honda Civics had superior handling, but the Neon had gobs more torque and horsepower than most cars in their class. And this was in stock trim. When prepped for racing, they were a force to be reckoned with.
OK. Enough rationalizing. My Neon is simply no longer capable of keeping up with most production cars in the same general class. Just a fact of advances in technology. But it is a perfect starter car for a novice in high performance driving. It's got good response, adequate power, and some very capable handling. In short, it's a solid rolling classroom.
But prior to taking my car to flog around the legendary and incredibly fast circuit that is the Glen, I had to put some work into the old girl.
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