"aquila121" (aquila121)
09/30/2014 at 23:06 • Filed to: Projectriceball
7
14|
"aquila121" (aquila121)
09/30/2014 at 23:06 • Filed to: Projectriceball | 7
| 14 |
Friends, I have now experienced rear-wheel-drive, and it is good—let me gush.
I cannot effectively describe the stress leading up to this autocross; I've been participating in events for the last five years or so, but never in a car which felt so unfamiliar to me. Also, listening to the car run (that's a generous use of the word) is to hear a chorus of systems on the verge of collapse. One of my friends who works as a tech at a Mercedes dealer was quoted as saying, "Man, I'm surprised that car hasn't broken yet." With a similar mindset, I'd packed everything from my garage in preparation for issues that day: my full socket/wrench set, my jump pack, breaker bar, zip-ties, oil, coolant, duct tape, and anything else that I could think of was thrown into the trunk. Once I arrived at the go-kart track, I hastily applied some numbers with painter's tape and lined the car up to limp through tech inspection.
I wholeheartedly believe that the car only passed because of the morbid curiosity of one of the event organizers—I'd swear there were odds on if the car would last half the day. The exhaust was thick in the morning air, the advanced timing (to keep the engine from stalling when cold) brought a side-effect where the car would pop and bark randomly when not on full-throttle, and the hood had some screw/nut/diamonds/hell-if-I-know rattling around inside the hollowed areas of metal. Oh, and the battery seems to be connected by some weak-ass vice grip and leftover stereo wires. I'd feel more safe if it was wrapped in a faraday cage made of chicken-wire and gum wrappers. The look on the tech's face was cringe-inducing—I swear no one breathed, out of fear the car would crumble in an errant breeze. "Do you trust it?" The question was laughable; I shrugged. "Well, you drove it here, so you must…" and I saw him applying the necessary marking and he waved me forward. My grin was a mile wide, until I tried to turn the car over, and it cranked for five, six, seven seconds longer than it usually needed. This isn't good, I remember shouting internally, but then the engine finally yelled itself to life. Whatever, no turning back now.
I spent the next half-hour walking the course, realizing how narrow the course was—I've seen wider pizza crusts. But the curbing was shallow and the layout had a number of tight sections that would feel almost like hairpins in our monstrous cars. There were several reminders that this is normally for go-karts, so off-track excursions into the green stuff was discouraged. "Hit a single blade of grass, you DNF that run," they warned. Given how the karts could nearly fit into one of the ruts some of the machines' uber-wide wheels would create, it made sense. All I could keep in mind was how outgunned I felt—the stock Miatas had around the same power as Project Riceball, but most of those drivers knew their cars. It only got worse from there: there were numerous modified cars with sticky tires, forced induction, or gobs more cylinders.
The whole time preceding the driver's meeting, I pleaded with my girlfriend that she didn't have to ride-along, that the Prelude would've been faster, that Murphy's law was rubbing its hands together—the car would surely break. She looked at me once it was time to run, pulled her helmet on, and said she was down for the adventure. Okay , I said, time to see what you can do . I pretzeled my way past the cage, fired up the engine, and prayed.
The course had no straightaways whatsoever, so I floored it up to the first corner, grabbed second gear, and turned in for the first tight right-hander. The car stuck—because we were not going at a speed which would be mistaken for fast—and moved down to the apex. I fed in some gas, and on exit, I felt the rear slipping outward slightly. The complete absence of understeer left my mouth hanging open, then my brain turned back on and I centered the wheel; it was beautiful. I can't remember if my girlfriend was laughing, or me. That was corner one, and we'd survived.
The first run, I merely followed the layout of the track and dodged a couple of cones. My entry speeds were horrifying, I wasn't looking ahead. But the manual steering described every piece of patchwork in the track, and the whole car was tossable, eager. I forgot about a sharp turnaround in the layout and received a DNF for that outing. I returned to my place in line and wondered where I should push a bit more. The following run I was only trying to feel the moment when each slide began, it always seemed to be at the end of one of the tight corners. I kept my foot on the gas pedal every time, and the rear never seemed to get nervous or snappy. Admittedly, I wasn't pushing as hard as possible, and I sure as hell wasn't trying to enter a corner by sliding (I'm not drifting yet), but I had a few moments where counter-steer was employed, and yes—you feel like a bad-ass once it works out. Each successive pass, I played with when to return the steering wheel to center; wait longer, and you induce a touch of tail-out antics. It's nothing earth-shattering, and probably not noticeable to the crowd, but that also means it's confidence-inspiring that a noob like me can save it. Conversely, if you center-up the wheel in anticipation of the minor slide, the car simply plants the rear and you carry more momentum. The best I can figure out, part of driving FR cars fast is a matter of staying one step ahead of potential oversteer.
I could talk more about the racing line, weight transfer, contact patches, but that would overlook the single thought that was screaming inside my skull: this car is ridiculous fun even though it's as slow as dial-up internet . Since the engine has no guts, you're foot-to-the-floor constantly between turns, the brakes have plenty of bite to lock up if you want to drop anchors, and the body roll is reasonably lessened. And the popping backfire of the exhaust sounds wonderfully, unabashedly offensive to people with sense. The tires never rubbed on the fenders, and the stretched rubber also probably made the loss of traction in the rear more gradual. Who cares if overall grip was lessened—I was doing exactly what I wanted with this event, learning my limits.
I wish I had video to share, but the suction cup-mount for my Replay XD was acting up and wouldn't hold—I'll address the camera mount before I drive more in the spring. But one of the staff snapped a wealth of lovely pictures, and I'll dump them below. No, I didn't drift, but there was an S2000 which was doing a far better job than I currently would. Once the day finished, I was ecstatic that the car hadn't overheated while sitting in line most of the day; it held together and I drove the car back north to my garage. While on the highway, a couple in a Mustang convertible openly laughed at my purple POS (my wearing a helmet may have had something to with it—because rollcage), but right now, I wouldn't trade this car for a Hellcat. Winter is going to seem extra-long this year, I can tell. (And no, I did not come in last, thankyouverymuch.)
Now, I give you some of the more drool-inducing cars that showed up—this kid was trying to slide his way through everything he could:
Meanwhile, a friend of mine had a more unintentional moment with FWD oversteer:
This Mercedes gets the "Most Jalop" award, I think.
Here's something for the E36 fans.
Someone wanted to have tons of shots of this drag car that got lost and did some auto-x anyways.
Lastly, if you like Mk IV Supras, I thought this was pretty. But the owner didn't drive it on the course.
(Photo credits: any shots of cars on-course were taken by Kevin Claus of the BMC—the whole club is pretty awesome. The paddock photos are just me with my potato-cam.)
Your boy, BJR
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:07 |
|
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
shit
GODDAMN
That is pretty cool.
Jedidiah
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:12 |
|
This car is sexy af
My citroen won't start
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:12 |
|
And we have liftoff!
CB
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:32 |
|
Your girlfriend sounds great if she was willing to get in that car with you.
Also, sweet ride. It's ridiculous and I love it.
Stef Schrader
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:39 |
|
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!
|
Stef Schrader
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:40 |
|
This picture wins at picturing.
|
Stef Schrader
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:41 |
|
This is so rad it hurts.
|
Stef Schrader
> aquila121
09/30/2014 at 23:42 |
|
Oh man, this color combination. THIS COLOR COMBINATION! Green car, gold wheels. Yes. More like this, please.
|
aquila121
> Stef Schrader
09/30/2014 at 23:42 |
|
Didn't I just read about you lamenting the absence of your non-turbo 944 in video games? That tells me it'd be more fun to fix and driiiiiiiiiiift.... Oh, and you're awesome for tracking your Lancer.
Jake - Has Bad Luck So You Don't Have To
> aquila121
10/01/2014 at 00:12 |
|
DAT.
VENUE.
So much better than a parking lot.
|
Stef Schrader
> aquila121
10/01/2014 at 00:29 |
|
Heh, it's a fun little hoon-monster. Shoot, both of them are fun to hoon.
|
aquila121
> Jake - Has Bad Luck So You Don't Have To
10/01/2014 at 00:31 |
|
I cannot disagree.
ADabOfOppo; Gone Plaid (Instructables Can Be Confusable)
> aquila121
10/01/2014 at 08:45 |
|
jealousy intensifies
soundman98
> aquila121
04/11/2015 at 23:33 |
|
i want to say this guy is on hidplanet.. i remember the wheel color/type on green... i believe he's modded just about everything on that car..