Snetterton, 23.10.11


I wasn't going to do this round. Thinking about it now, I am not entirely sure why I had decided that. It could have been because the new engine build planned didn't happen and felt the existing unit was well passed it's best. Well, it was. Having been a dyno mule for a while, then called in to service this season after the component issues I suffered last year. Basically it was the last man standing. Or all I had left that didn't require a big financial investment. It could also have been because I didn't think I'd have any meat left on the tyres, but that changed after failing to complete the Mallory Park race weekend. Whichever, my mate Steve Young offered to stump up the entry fee for a split drive, so how could I refuse.
Having completed the Castle Coombe event with nothing at all eventful in the mechanics of the car, nothing needed doing to it other than the cursory spanner check. Peering under the front revealed nothing leaking out at all, and nothing hanging off. Closely checking the tyres confirmed my earlier in the season thoughts - there wouldn't be enough rubber left for this event had Mallory Park been more successful. Perhaps that was destiny. A fluids check showed all OK, and a check on the battery conditioned showed it to be in rude health. This battery has astonished me. It's your usual Varley Red Top, and has performed faultlessly since being fitted to the car back in 2004. That's now seven seasons racing and it has never failed to start the car or drain down to the point f uselessness. Big thumbs up all round then. Well worth the initially seemingly high investment.
Since Steve was co-driving with me, we decided to drive down to his place just outside of Ware on the Saturday during the day. One way of avoiding the nightmare that is the British road system on a Friday afternoon/early evening. The plan was to breeze down late morning to get there for lunchtime and the feasibility of a pub lunch for a relaxing afternoon. Yeah, right. 40 minutes from home we ran slap-bang in to the end of a traffic jam on the A1 where we chugged along for some 40 minutes. And then, of course, the inevitable motorised stagger as each clutch of trucks was encountered. All in all a 3 hour journey turned in to a 4 hour one and missing the pub lunch opportunity.. Just as well as it turns out, because at one point I was not confident of me making the grid in the car, Steve very likely to have to do both driving stints. This is because on the Thursday before I had spent nearly 12 hours perched at my grinding bench groddling out several A-series cylinder heads. As I got up having finished the last one, the pain that seared through my lower back damn-near made me throw up. I couldn't move for around 15 minutes. For the following 2 days I was in extreme pain, the usual exercises not having any effect at all. I took so many pain killers on Friday I was entirely spaced out come the evening. Loading the car on to the trailer and equipment in to the MG (Merc van not needed as no over-night stop at the circuit) was a very slow and painful process. The time spent sat in the very comfortable seat in the MG eased the back pain massively. So much so that having spent the afternoon doing nothing and a night on a mattress on the floor, come Sunday morning there was barely a twinge. Very cool.
Not an early start for our series, so we left Steve's at 07:30 and got to the track in good time, got the car unloaded, signed on and scrutineered in short fashion, so we all bailed out to the café for the constitutional full English breakfast to set us up for the day. That done and dusted, and the car sorted for qualifying with fuel and tyre pressure set we were good to go. I had decided Steve would take the first stint as he needed a foam pad fitting in the seat behind his upper back to get him in a position he was comfortable in. This meant altering the harness straps, so it was going to be much easier to get him and his padding out of the car and straps shortened, than trying to get him and his padding in to the car, comfortable, and straps altered to suit. The call came over the tannoy for our group to get our butts down to the collecting area, we got Steve seated comfortably and strapped in and he headed off down to the collecting area. I have to say that standing there in my fire-proofs, holding my crash helmet and gloves seeing my car trundle down the paddock was a little odd. I had to catch myself from trotting after it...
The start of qualifying was delayed because the previous session had been red flagged after copious quantities of oil had been dumped through the esses (thanks big Yank Tanks), so the hanging around in the pit lane was even more protracted. Eventually they were released and the cars trundled up the pit lane and out on to the circuit. Steve must have been concentrating even at that point as I got no wave as he passed me. With qualifying lasting for 30 minutes, the plan was relatively simple – Steve would do the first 15 minutes, then we'd do the change over. Having discussed how we were going to do this it was agreed that Michael (Steve's son) would deal with the left side harness straps through the passenger side door. He was to lengthen the hip strap, feed it back through the seat strap hole, then I'd get in having removed the steering wheel and lengthened the shoulder straps, re-fit the steering wheel whilst Michael positioned the left shoulder strap and Karin positioned the right side shoulder strap so I could buckle up then cinch the straps tight before heading off out the pit lane. Simple plan. What could go wrong? To add interest, and for information gathering, I also asked Steve's mate Chris to check the tyre pressures whilst they were hot while we were doing the driver change over. I said I wanted the tyres at 33 psi, so let them down to that, or if they were under that, to note what they were reading. My mate Keith Manning turned up as well, so I asked him to deal with removing and re-fitting the dust caps to help Chris out and get the job done quicker.
Karin gave Steve the signal to come in, I was ready with ear plugs in and helmet and gloves on. I'd told Steve to stall the engine to save it running on when he switched off. He appeared in the pit lane, pulled in where we were waiting, and stalled the engine but forgot to keep a foot on the brake pedal... with the result the car rolled forward a short way, getting us all wrong-footed. From the on it was all a bit Billy Smarts Circus... Michael didn't get the shoulder strap sorted so I had to wrestle with that, Steve decided to throw his lot in to do the right side straps instead of Karin – not at all easy as he kept butting me with his crash helmet, then I couldn't get the bloody steering wheel on... At least the guys had no trouble dealing with the tyre pressures. Eventually I pulled out in to the pit lane and headed out on to the track. First lap was a bit odd as I didn't know what to expect. The reality was I didn't need to pussy foot about waiting for the tyres, brakes and oil to get warm. They already were on the money. I also needed to fin d out what t he new Sears Corner was all about, having been changed from the original 90 degree right out on to the long back straight to a hairpin with a short exit in to a sharp left out on to that straight. I got 3 laps under my belt then decided to get on with it... then the chequered flag came out. They must have decided to shorten the session because of the run over time of the previous one. The nett result was Steve had turned in a 1:36.491 to put us 10th on the grid out of 20-odd cars. All 3 of my timed laps were in the 1:38s.
Back in the paddock, a check over showed nothing untoward. I asked Steve if he thought anything needed changing to make the car handle more to his liking – but he said it was handling just fine and dandy as it was. I checked the tyres over, and was a little concerned that we may not have enough rubber to last the race. Particularly as it was proving to be a bonny day, sunny and warm. We had no options so it was just a case of doing the best we could on what was left.
We then got on to the discussion concerning the farcical driver change. Part of the problem, I was sure, was Steve's adrenalin rush – he wanted to help out. Helpless laughter ensued following my description of events, the crowning glory being Steve butting my crash helmet with his so I couldn't see what the devil was going on. Another strategy was called for. Step forward Steve's youngest, daughter Elizabeth, who got volunteered to deal with the right hand straps. Wanting to leave nothing to chance, she demanded we do a practise run. Karin timed it. The first run was pretty bad, though at 58 seconds not THAT bad. Elizabeth was determined we could do better and should try again now everybody had a better idea of what needed doing. This time around we did it in 38 seconds... Just goes to prove the point that practise makes perfect. The mood was buoyant for the race for the race change-over. The plan was simple – a 40 minute race, Steve would do the first 20 minutes, me what was left after the pit stop. Now all we had to do was wait.
Race time came around and we all headed off in our required directions – me, Karin, Elizabeth and her friend Faye to the pit lane; Michael and Chris to the collecting area with Steve in the car. The previous race took some sweeping up after, but eventually proceedings got under way. Grid formation, green flag lap, re-formed on the grid, light on, off and away they went – Steve making a decent start. A tense minute and a half-ish and the leader (friend Charley Marriott in his indecently quick Turner) appeared around Coram, followed not long after by a gaggle of cars. One of which was Steve in a very creditable 5th place! COOL! I have stated earlier that Steve is a quick driver. One of the reasons for this is an innate ability to keep what would appear to be a malfunctioning car on the track. He is most definitely in the 'loose is fast' camp, so really makes hay in the first few laps whilst others are straining every nerve and sinew to deal with a car with wayward tendencies caused by cold tyres and the like. For four laps he held off the more powerful and faster cars behind him. At this point Karin called me over to the pit wall and asked what time the race had started... I sated I had no idea, I wasn't time keeper... she was supposed to be doing that. But in all the excitement she'd forgotten to note it. Ho-hum... We'd have to wait for the 'Pit Lane Open' sign to go out, 10 minutes after the start, and work it from there.
Next time around he was 6th, with others catching him. He put up a seriously determined fight to hold off others for another couple of laps, then there was a pregnant pause as the front half dozen appeared round Coram then nothing.... I just knew there had been an altercation somewhere involving Steve. He then popped in to view, adrift by a big gap and several more places. Passing the pit, the engine still sounded fine and the car was holding a straight line, so there did not seem to be any serious damage. With around 7 minutes to go before he came in, I was stood with crash helmet in hand just taking in the proceedings. I watched as Steve rounded Coram Curve again, still holding a decent place... he then slowed and entered the pit lane. I was a little deflated, thinking that there must be a terminal problem following whatever had caused that big gap and loss of places. He pulled up where we were standing, I opened the door and asked what the problem was. The reply was 'Nothing, I thought it time I came and and handed over'. WHAT A MUPPET! I was not at all ready so had to rush the crash helmet and gloves fitting process and steering wheel removal while he clambered out, muttering something about possible damage to the front left. Credit to Michael and Elizabeth, they did their bit in an orderly and timely fashion. Had I been ready to jump in the change-over would have gone perfectly. Steve moved round to the left front side, tugged a bit, then reported all was OK. I fired the engine back up and headed down the pit lane, ready to make use of the fact everything was already at a working temperature and determined to do some decent lap times since that seemed all that was left to me after the surprise pit stop. We lost a heap of time unplanned for.
The car felt OK, so I set too with bettering my qualifying lap times. I knew where I was loosing a lot of time – Riches, the first corner after the pit straight, through the esses at the end of the back straight, and through the bomb hole. The new Coram Curve to new Russell chicane was no longer a place to make up time as it had been changed to one long curve all the way in to the chicane. Gone was the short straight section that could be used for banzai braking attacks. All you can do is carry as much speed as you could and still make the braking area work to get through the chicane. As the laps past, the car was getting more of a handful. Entirely down to the tyres wearing out. I had to take care with braking as the loss of grip meant it was all too easy to lock the front up. And more and more care needed on at the turn in points to avoid serious under-steer. Having to pay this much attention to driving smoothly paid off – post race results showed I set the quickest time of either of us on lap 23... a full half second off Steve fastest qualifying time. Jackie Stewart must be correct 'smoothest is fastest'. I lost a few places to faster cars, mostly because of the now drag race that is the back straight. The introduction of a hairpin at what used to be the 90 degree Sears corner means that you start the long straight at near walking pace. Anything with bigger horsepower would be first down to the esses. That and the engine was getting less and less energetic as the laps passed by. Hmph.
The chequered flag came out just as I was beginning to wonder how much longer the tyres would last. Back in the paddock, I clambered out as the racing family Young and friends gathered round the left front wing... damn the man! He'd bent my nice new front wing! He claimed it wasn't his fault, being attacked by a wayward MGB. Checking the tyres over confirmed that they had given all of their grip up, the left front showing some serious blistering toward the outer edge. Seems Steve had decided to come in early having had the incident to make sure all was OK... I wasn't too upset – it could have been worse and we'd all had an excellent day. The final results sheet had us 4th in class and 10th over-all. And as started earlier, I had managed a quicker lap than Steve – so that was pleasing.
Now the serious work starts... a complete strip and re-build for nest year to severely lighten the car and hopefully improve the handling further. Not to mention a quicker motor.

Mallory Park, 29.08.11

Many think Mallory Park is not a great circuit. In my opinion this is because of two things – it is short, and has an ugly bend that makes or breaks a lap time. Short – as in less than a minute lap time. Ugly bend – that'd be Gerrards – a long, long 180 degree bend that demands serious commitment and skill to get through fast enough to get a good lap time. As race car engineers will tell you – it is in the corners where most time is made or lost. Not in the straights. And oddly, it does not favour the more nimble cars either as it is a pretty fast circuit – in as much as you are travelling pretty quickly everywhere except the hair pin. Despite being a self-confessed competent only driver, I enjoy the circuit because it is difficult. It was going to be a bit more of a trial than usual though, as my poor old engine is starting to wheeze badly now. Not breathing hard and blowing oil everywhere, but definitely down on performance. Dramatically so. Still, I have no option so it'll just have to do one more event; I planned to get a replacement built before the next race. Note – 'planned'.
Rolled up at the track on the Sunday evening and sat in the queue in the outer car park until the 'friendly circuit' folk (they've obviously not told the gate staff they are the 'friendly circuit'!) until the exact minute of 18:30. When they finally allowed us all across, it was a bit like a scene from a Western, 'wagons roll' and all these vehicles towing trailers converged on the single vehicle access gate! Quite amusing. Once in and unloaded, I checked everything over. The wheel nut torques a further twice after checking them in the garage at home the night before. All done and dusted, all that was needed in the morning was a quite wash, windows cleaned/Rain-X-ed and tyre pressures set. The usual excellent barbecue and jollity with friends, bed, and around the morning rolled. Quite a late start for us for a change, so a Mallory Big Breakfast did the trick, then off to scrutineering. No problems as usual, back to 'camp' set tyre pressures and we were good to go for qualifying.
The time came round and off we went to the collecting area. I'd given Karin instructions to get Steve (Young, mate and co-Clubby racer from CTCRC now re-building his car after a biggy at Thruxton) to give me a 10 laps done sign and I would then decide how many more laps I was going to do. The tyres are getting a bit thin on useful rubber, and there is no point hammering round for 30 minutes just for the hell of it. OK – so there is, but not on this occasion. We got the signal to fire up engines from the collecting area marshals, and we rolled out on to the circuit. A couple of easy laps to get some heat into the engine, oil, coolant, tyres and brakes and I upped the pace. The first quick lap felt good, the car with the extra stiffness in the rear springs and more toe-out track was gliding round Gerrards beautifully. So I turned up the wick a bit further. More speed through Gerrards felt good, the car pretty settled. Down the straight, dab the brakes, 3rd gear, tweak right in to the goose neck (or essess) and nail the throttle. WOW! WHAT THE DICKENS????!!!!!!! The car snapped right then slewed left.. I lifted off which didn't help much but trying to steer the car was taking all my not inconsiderable upper-body strength. I wrestled with the steering wheel, managed to prevent a spin and allowed the car to run off the outside of the circuit on to the grass, then gently eased it back on to the circuit. Touching the throttle caused the car to veer right, initially really snatching at the diff. Hmph.. now what. Initial though was a busted CV or may be out-put shaft. Because the Trannex plate type diff is such a good design, I was able to drive back to the paddock. Shortly after, the pit crew arrived, we jacked the car up, Steve fell to the floor and looked underneath – and reported a busted dive shaft. Damn me. I peered underneath to inspect the damage – and he was absolutely correct. It had sheered off just outside of the CV joint – where a circlip groove usually is, but not supposed to be on these shafts. They have a collar welded on to butt up against the CV joint to remove the weak spot caused by the standard circlip groove. So that was it. Game over as I do not carry spare shafts and CV joints – having never broken either in the past. So we loaded up and headed on home. Not impressed.
It was at this point that I decided ' to hell with this, I'll call it a season now – only 2 races to go for me. May as well save the money and start work on the car for next year. And that's because I have now decided to not build a new car but to develop the Clubby. Building a new car takes a heap more time and money. Both of which are in short supply for 'toys' right now. Plus, the Clubby as it is is only good for one championship – one that is dying on it's feet. So no where to race it competitively. And no real re-sale value should I decide to sell it. So, I will develop it to evolve in to a more suitable bollide for the championship I am floundering in now against cars much, much lighter. And faster.

Anglesey, 07.08.11

After my bout of stupidity at Cadwell Park, I took myself outside, gave myself a bit if a slapping then a right good talking to. After that I had to fix the left front wing and A-panel, the one I had just had repaired and re-painted after the Oulton Park incident. I wasn't at all impressed with myself. After having a good look at the damage, I decided to call a man that can in to do the job instead of me making things worse. Mostly because, after building a number of race cars and all manner of road cars/restorations – I foolishly sold a lot of my bodywork tooling and equipment during my many adventures moving around the country. The man concerned is one Kevin Theaker, who is really an Escort man, but he likes Minis as well, and is bloody good at dealing with bodywork. He called in to have a look, said he'd be back with some tools a few days later – and achieved in just over an hour what it would have taken me the best part of several hours at least to do. Other than the panel work, I stripped the front left hub off the car as the bottom ball joint pin had worn down so much there was barely half the retaining nut left. So a ball joint replacement was needed. I also replaced the four wheel studs just to be on the safe side – and that was all that was needed.
I have never been to the Anglesey race circuit before, so was looking forward to having a go at a new track. I had loads of reports from other racers that is was a really good track, very smooth, interesting, and in a beautiful setting. For many it is also a bit of a trek to get to, but from here it looked about 4 hours drive. It took 4.5 hours to get there because of Friday afternoon traffic around the Manchester area, 3.5 hours to get back with a straight forward drive home. So 4 hours was an accurate average. We (Karin and I) had been to Anglesey briefly before some many moons ago, and recalled what a pleasant area it was. And what with best friends racing and other friends visiting relations on the island, we decided to make a bit more of a weekend of it – so headed out Friday afternoon, the race being on Sunday. That gave us Saturday to do some walking and exploring the place a bit. And that's just what we did. With reasonably bright and sunny weather, albeit with a bit of a breeze blowing it was almost glorious. Karin even braved the sea at a private beach we were at courtesy of our friend's relation.
Saturday evening we barbecued at the track with our racing friends, though the temperature had started to fall quite quickly, clouds blocked out the sun. We all decided to do a post-eat walk around the circuit before the weather got any worse. Karin and I had walked the circuit on the previous night after our barbecue, but it was getting dark before we set off, and quite dark by the time we had completed the lap. We decided it would do no harm to do it a second time in the light. Having returned to our encampment, we started to get packed up because the weather was definitely turning and eventually rain started to fall. Retreating to my mates camper van we played cards until bed time, then retired for the night. I got 2 hours or so sleep before I woke up, I never really sleep well at the track. Don't know why, it's not like we're uncomfortable in the van. Quite the opposite really. I lay there listening to the rain for quite a while, then the rain intensified to the point where an absolutely deafening row was created as it seemed that a regiment of fusiliers was firing ball-bearings from hundreds of machine guns at the van! The row was incredible. A noise that returned in wave after wave as the rain subsided then picked up again – driven by a howling wind. I lay there thinking what a nightmare event it would be on Sunday if it persisted. The savage weather abated and I drifted off to sleep for barely an hour or so before it was time to shake a leg, being first event of the day meant an early-ish start to proceedings. I was pleasantly surprised as I emerged from the van to find the weather, although a little blowy, was brightening rapidly. Standing contemplating the clouds, wind, etc. for a short while I decided the day was going to improve and probably be as bright and sunny as Saturday had been. I wasn't wrong.
I had already done all the pre-race/qualifying checks on Saturday evening except setting the tyre pressures, so I did that before taking the car to scrutineering. No problems there as usual. Back at camp, Karin got busy cleaning the windows while I double checked everything – especially the wheel nut torques! Satisfied all was good, I donned my fire-proofs earlier than usual as I had to attend a 'newbie at the circuit' briefing before heading out on to the track. This mostly entails being advised of the entry/exit roots to the track, parc ferme and collecting area and how they deal with incidents. None of it rocket science, but can escape those with low common-sense levels.. of which there are a surprising number at race meetings. There should be a common sense test in the ARDS course in my opinion. I left the briefing, walked back to the car, clambered in and set off for the collecting area for qualifying, feeling a little apprehensive – a feeling I am having to get to know and deal with in recent times. My mate assures me it is nerves/adrenalin and proves I am taking it seriously. I nod in agreement for loss of any other explanation. Never used to be like that...
Having walked the track twice, I had a reasonably good idea of where it went, where apexes were likely to be, and confirmed my thoughts on those walks of how feature-less the track is in terms of usable visual markers, making braking and turning in points difficult to assess. There are very, very few red and white kerbs to sight on, and little by way of markers for braking and turning points. The track is amazingly smooth though – probably because it is use far less than the other more commonly used ones on the mainland. Underlined by the basic nature of the facilities – though I have to say they were excellently looked after – clean, well turned out and the café/bar was great in terms of food and drink quality as well as smiley helpful staff. A real credit to the venue. Unlike some others that should know better – like 'Stalag Silverstone'. Anyway, qualifying...
With a 30 minute session, it affords time for several familiarisation laps, so much better than the fraught fury of the 15 or 20 minute sessions of previous race series I'd run in. There were a couple of corners that took some sorting out, but after a half dozen laps I felt I had a good working knowledge of where to go, so upped the pace to see what I could do. The answer was – not very much. I tried all kinds of approaches to the various corners where time could be made/lost – but it didn't matter what I did, I could not break the 1:28:00 barrier. So I thought that was it, I'd just have to see what everybody else was doing when the qualifying results sheets came out. I was dismayed to discover I was well off the pace by some 4 seconds. Again. Cadwell was the same. At first I thought that I was just hitting the performance barrier of my somewhat over-weight car, being around 100 kilos heavier than the rest of the opposition in my class. A few moments of contemplation revealed to me that that was not all the problem. I had run in to the very thing that should be avoided at all costs when racing – frustration. I was trying to force the speed out of the car because I felt I was not making the sort of progress I would have hoped for. I wasn't deluding myself in to thinking I could actually be 4 seconds a alp quicker, but a second and a half off the pace would have been more representative. Not rocket science to figure out since it didn't matter what approach I used at various parts of the circuit, my lap times were pretty-much staying the same. Note to self for the race – back off! Net result was 13th out of 16. Hmph.
I entered two races here, mostly to get time on a circuit I had not been to before, and because it was a very good offer price-wise. The CSCC really make racing as cheap and available as they can for their members – a most excellent club to be involved in. So, having finished the first qualifying session, I rapidly fuelled up, checked nothing had broken, fallen off or bled out and got ready for the next qualifying session. I advised Karin that I would do the mandatory 3 laps required to qualify for the race, then depending on how things were going I may do a few more laps. I ended up doing 8 laps, again trying various strategies trying to better my lap times. However, the weather was warming up, and I think I fried the tyres in the first qualifying session as again, no matter what I did I was stuck at the 1:28-something. Part way through the session I started getting a serious vibration from the front end – synonymous with having flat-spotted the tyres when locking the wheels up under braking – except I hadn't. I purposely steer clear of out-braking myself for this very reason. It is astonishing how much a couple of narrow flat sections across the tyre can dramatically affect how the car handles. It really gives you an insight in to what the F1 pilots face having done such a baddie. Retiring to the paddock, and alighting from the car, I set too with setting the front end on axle stands (helps maintain front end ride height and spring performance) and noticed I had actually managed to blister the front left tyre – an 'in-yer-face' confirmation of how much I had been pushing the car trying to achieve a decent lap time. Fortunately I had a brand new spare I could slap on to that side for the forth-coming races. So I did. Result of this second qualifying was 18th out of 20. More on this later.
All fuelled up and ready to go for the race, the timing was appalling – we'd missed the full English breakfast by half an hour! NOW what do we do for vittles for the day? Hmph.. have to make do with butties then. Just ain't right.
Race time came around. For the first time we were going to do a pit stop with Karin present and me leaving doing the belts up to her. Karin had asked for a practise run, but there seemed to be no opportunity to do that, so I just said that the heat of battle is the best test. And could she please give me the board as soon as the pit lane opened so I could come in as soon as possible. Team talk sorted, I set off for the collecting area and the first race.
Usual drill – warm up lap, red lights on, off and away we went. I made another excellent start (seem to be getting my fast starts back in order). Slipping and sliding around the first long left hander, the pack got scruffy as those on cold tyres that had managed to 'Brundle' themselves (ambition exceeded ability) and an opportunity through brilliant driving (read – damage limitation exercise was a great choice for furthering grid position) meant I jumped a decent handful of places in to the next corner – a negative camber hair-pin 180 degree jobbie. With the tyres still not giving of their best (that's 'cold' to the unknowing) for everyone, I made a decent fist of that and headed off to the long, long, long right hander. I managed to maintain station for almost half a lap after that before folks with more powerful machinery started catching and passing me. Then the folks in the same class with much lighter cars did like-wise. Within a few laps I was relegated to 9th, where I stayed until the end of the race. The engine performed heroically again, considering it is well passed it's re-build point, giving willing performance – though it is now very, very tired. Way too many hours on the clock. The only reason I haven't messed with it is because to do so would mean a major over-haul in time I simply do not have right now – and that old adage of 'if it ain't broke don't fix it'. Compression and leak-down tests still show a plucky level of fitness despite the hours of abuse. I tried, for several laps, to contain my frustration at this lack of pace. And managed to deal with it mostly, but one or two laps were stupidly harsh on the car and tyres. It was at this point that I decided to pull out of the second race. I wasn't achieving anything except putting more time on the engine than it deserved, rubbing out tyres I wanted to hang on to for Mallory Park, and driving 'mad' – which is never good.. And, the cars in that second race were all wickedly fast – so I would be spending the whole race looking in my mirrors and getting out of (and possibly in) the way these cars way. So I reported to the race organisers of my decision, loaded up and headed home. I need to set out a plan of action to become more competitive in this series, and be happy simply to compete at all this year. We'll see what Mallory brings.

Oulton Park, 25.06.11


With the Clubby's handing transformed in to something resembling a race car, and an excellent finish at Donington, I was REALLY looking forward to racing Oulton. One of my favourite circuits. All the car required between the two races was the usual spanner check and eye-ball of all areas that could leak fluid of any sort. Everything was in fine fettle, so for once a very leisurely twxit-race time. The only major change was swapping tyres around on the four corners to even out tyre wear and get a bit more tread on the front. Oh -and a persistent oil leak that was praying oil on to the heat wrap on then exhaust manifold needed investing. After some 10 minutes scrutinising the area with bright lights it appeared to be coming from the diff output seals. So I changed them. I most definitely did not want an impromptu barbecue under the bonnet, and a couple of fire-extinguishers-full of powdered mess to deal with.
This time around it was a Saturday race, which was great because it coincided with Karin's working weekend where she has to work a Sunday. Neat. No worries about the pit-stop belts issue this time. In fact that turned out to be an 'absolutely no worries about the belts thing' because this time it was decided to make two 30 minute races instead of the usual 40 minute race with the pit-stop. None of us really new why, but assumed there was time in hand at the circuit that the club had paid for so decided to go for the two longer sessions. Fine by me. Even more time on the track for the same amount of money. Very cool.
We rolled up early evening, making reasonably good time despite the best efforts of the Devil's own road (the M62) to mire us in traffic jams. A short time later, my mate Simon and his lady Jill turned up and we pitched camp and set too with the barbecues and food. Then it started to rain. And rain. And rain. Luckily Simon has a camper van affair with an awning that allowed the barbecuing to go on unimpeded. And it rained non-stop from then until around 06:30... So a slippery qualifying was on the cards. We were third session out. Luckily there were some historic F5000 single-seaters out before us so they would clear a lot of the surface water with the immensely wide rear tyres they used.
Having checked all the usual pre-qualifying stuff, fuelled the car and set the tyre pressures (went for 28 front, 26 rear this time as it was a bit cooler than Donington, and tyre wear suggested the Donington settings may be a little on the low side). Signing on and scrutineering went as speedily and smoothly as ever, and with an hour's gap before qualifying it was decided we should hit the café for a full English before hitting the track. We usually wait until after qualifying. No matter, I was bloomin' starving anyway.
Running a little ahead of schedule already, we were summonsed to the collecting area a few minutes earlier than expected, so I didn't get time to put any heat in to the engine at all – an issue that showed at the noise level check. For the first time since I started racing again I was told I was a couple of dB over the limit. The nice lady let me go as I explained the engine was still cold so couldn't hold it at the usual 5,000rpm steadily. And a smile of course. She advise drilling a hole through the tail pipe and putting a bolt through it to make sure it passes in future. Interesting.
Right, unleashed on to the somewhat still damp track, I was in for several slow-ish laps whilst the tyres settled themselves in to their new positions, which also gave me time to assess how the track surface was behaving. And... find out where to drive on the full long international track that included the severely banked hairpin – first time I had ever done this. It didn't add much excitement aside from the entry to the hairpin. The hairpin was hair pin, banking or no banking. All hurry up and wait. The chicane after that was quite tricky to get through fast, but a couple of goes at it and I had it nailed. The only really troublesome corner for me is the one that is a problem to all – Druids. A double apex bend that is pretty much entirely covered by tress – which means it is slippery at the best of times, let alone when damp. Still, after a few laps settling the tyres and me in and then gradually upping the speed, things were going pretty darned well. I was gauging my progress by that Grime Reaper (an industrial cleaning agent) Mini of Clive Tonge/Vaughn Winters who where in front of me. Initially a fair ways off, but as I was settling in to the groove, getting closer all the time. I spent a few laps experimenting with the first apex/turn of Druids as it was pretty slippery, and finally found a line that seemed to offer up the best grip. Two laps later I decided to go for the quick lap, advancing rapidly on the Mini ion front. Come the entry to Druids I set the car on that good line, and blitzed the corner in fine style. Attacking the second apex on the same line I had used all the previous laps, studiously avoiding the hump/bump that extends out from the inside of the circuit to around half way across the track, the cars rear end spun round on me in the blink of an eye! Travelling at a fair rate of knots at that point, it isn't long before you are on the inside of the circuit, on the grass, and a passenger heading straight to the scene of the accident. No amount of opposite lock and standing on the loud pedal was bringing it back. Everything happens so fast, especially when you hit the grass and the seems to go into rocket launch mode – I just recall letting go of the steering wheel and heaving on the hand brake to make the car turn if it would to avoid an either head-on or side-on hit. A corner is a much better crumple zone to minimise potential damage to both human and car. Ker-RUMPH – I belted the Armco barriers left front corner first. And at such an excellent angle the car pretty much stopped apart from a gentle, slow slew sideways to rest against the barrier. That was my qualifying, and race over. I was a bit mystified as to why I should suddenly have an issue with a piece of track that had been fine for 20 minutes and a number of laps. I decided I had probably done a achieved a 'Brundle-ism' – 'ambition exceeded ability' following the much faster exit from the first exit. Hmph. First accident in 6 years.
Back in the paddock (I drove it back in after some judicious levering with a wrecking bar – so no damage to water or oil radiators), there was the usual furore of activity from other racers offering to help straighten it out so I could race. All of which I gently declined. I could see the tie-rod was bent, and with the panel work folded tight around the subframe corner/forward tie-rod bracket I was not going to take the chance of racing with a possibly damaged suspension component. Seen too many folk make that mistake over the years – rush to repair all easily visible damage, get out in to the race, then seriously trash the car when one of those unchecked components failed. I went off to report to the clerk of the course that I wouldn't be making the race. When I did so, he looked somewhat surprised and then said 'really? Didn't look like a big impact on the monitor'. Turns out he saw the whole thing beginning to end as they were trying to spot the culprit spraying oil on to the circuit. I was the first one on the scene so found the oil first. Great.
With the car back home in the garage, I hauled the engine out, stripped of all the damaged body furniture and inspected all I could. No problem with the engine or cooling systems, and the front subframe is still square and straight, and the tie-rod bracket looks to be OK. Though I really need to cut the bent panel-work off so I can give that a 100% inspection. It looks like needing a new front left wing, front panel, grille, bumper, side/indicator light unit and head light unit, and some fresh paint. It could have been an awful lot worse. And an interesting discovery – that oil leak on to the exhaust manifold was not coming from the output seals. With the engine out I examined the oil pattern and the back of the block/gearbox – and concluded it was coming from a small casting lump on the back of the engine block. A rap with a hammer and small chisel caused a small piece to chip off, revealing a very small hole through to the inside of the engine! Time to break out the JB Weld then! I hope to be out for Cadwell Park in a months time.

August 21 2010


A bit of a delay doing this post race report; a hefty work schedule after spending too much time fixing the race car in between each damned race this year has been eating up time.
Right. Following the Lydden race and subsequent discovery of the errant damper bolt – things should be pretty simple. Strip the motor, fit the race spec ACL Duraglide +0.030” rod bearings and re-assemble, look to see if there was any reason why the damper bolt came undone, then make sure it was re-assembled with fresh thread-lock. Simples. Yeah -right. Major problem – the flywheel would not come off the crank despite my best efforts with my 'butch' flywheel puller and a couple of tank-fulls of compressed air through my honking Snap-On air gun. Hmmm.... Out with the butane torch for a good warm up of the flywheel boss. Still no movement. Not good. A few whacks with club hammer and big drift, nothing. We are now in territory I have not been in for decades with any Mini flywheel issue. So I borrowed an oxy-acetylene set-up from the garage next door (big thanks to Derek at Derwent Garage) and gave it the 'hot blue spanner' treatment until the whole boss was cherry red. Nothing. More whacks with heavy duty equipment. Nothing. Poured another tank-full of compressed air in to it. Nothing. Re-heated to cherry red again – repeat.... Nothing. Drill three lines of holes to join together up the boss sides. Nothing. Finally had to drill radially around the boss centre close to the crankshaft. That got the outer section off. Had to use a chisel to get the remainder of the centre off the crank. Well and truly fret-welded on. From what I could see of what was left the flywheel internal taper must have been incorrect, that would explain why the flywheel was moving up the crank so far and causing problems with the starter motor. Now I had a trashed flywheel and crankshaft, so the +0.030” bearings were now literally spare parts....
The engine was re-built using yet another crankshaft - good job I'd recently had several done by MED... though I hadn't planned on working my way through them quite so quickly. A couple had been ear-marked for full-on new race engines. Ho-hum. I also decided to stay away from any of the steel flywheels currently available on the market right now, dug deep in to the coffers and lashed out on one of the superbly made KAD aluminium flywheel and back plates. Hopefully I wouldn't have to deal with stuck-on flywheels any more. All back in the car, it fired up first hit, everything fine after full warm up I set too with other maintenance which included fitting new brake pads – this time I went for the Ferodo F4R spec pads as I had heard good things about them. I had also planned on changing the gear change remote and lever to get away from the quick-shift set-up, but time was pressing on. I decided to leave it as is since I had not had any more gear change issues at Lydden.
Snetterton was going to be a busy meeting – qualifying and two races in the same day. Starting at 09:00 with qualifying, 1st race at 11:15, second race at 14:15... no time to deal with anything that should crop up. After qualifying I needed to check/re-set the ignition timing and the valve clearances with the engine 'race hot'. Qualifying was also going to be a bit lame as I had to bed the new brake pads in first, then properly scrub the new tyres in, then try for a decent time. All in 15 minutes. I'd got through my expensive buffed tyres in a few races instead of the expected full season, so I decided to forget going that route again and just stick to the one set of full treaded tyres. The set I had kept aside for wet weather had only seen a few tentative laps of Cadwell Park at the start of the year, so were barely scrubbed in. First two laps dealt with bedding the pads in, then another couple of laps carefully working the tyres up to full temperature, another very slow lap to let them cool of, then tried to set a good time – made damned near impossible because by then the bigger, faster cars were catching me up and lapping me so I was continually having to give way at inopportune (for me) moments. I was therefore pleasantly surprised to find myself not on the back of the grid. Albeit by two places... but then we were suffering the poorest turn-out in Post Historic this year to date – a mere 11 cars. Tragic. Back in the paddock, bonnet removed and a good look over to make sure all was well in there. Nothing bleeding out or fallen off/come undone, I re-set the valve clearances and the ignition timing, sorted fuel and checked water and oil levels. All good to go for the race.
For some reason we were lead round on the warm up lap by a pace car. Odd. Never had that before. Anyway, back to the start line and formed up on the grid. Lights on, off, and away. Mediocre start followed by damn-near driving the Mini up the exhaust pipe of a Mk1 Lotus Cortina all but stationery in front of me! Reflex reaction took me left around him, and passed a short cue of cars stuck behind a static Jaguar XJ12. Making the dive in to the first corner somewhat interesting but less cluttered than usual. Recovering from the surprise of ending up more than half way up the small grid I got on with the business that is racing. All was going pretty well, got past a couple of cars and then found myself behind my mate Tony Crates in his Mk2 Lotus Cortina... here we go again. A couple of laps of sizing him up – and what appeared, to the spectators, as a good dice for position – I found I was faster everywhere other than that accursed long back straight. So I needed to get past him as soon as possible after that to build enough of a gap to stop him sailing past me towards the end of the straight again. And it was gong to have to be through the fast, sweeping Coram Curve leading in to the chicane leading on to the pit straight. Cued him up, got right along side him going in to the chicane... and he just turned in on me anyway! I had a hell of a time using all limbs and controls getting the car stopped, turned and avoiding driving in to him. Needless to say, coming out the other side I was well off line. Not wanting to loose too much ground on him up the pit straight I nailed it, peaked rpm in second, shift to third... except I managed to stick it in 1st instead... Damn near stood the car on it's headlights... Whipped it out of 1st and in to 3rd... and carried on.
Now, I tell all my customers that once you have over-revved the engine – stop. Immediately. It may cost you the race, but it is far cheaper than mangling the whole engine when the inevitable happens – one or more of the exhaust valve heads breaks off and gets lobbed about inside the cylinder. Ultimately trashing the piston, head, bore and feasibly con rod and crank. However, the racing Devil on my left shoulder whispered in my ear that the engine was running fine, so keep going. I could catch and take that pesky Cortina... He was whispering a good deal louder than the racing angel on my right shoulder who new what was about to happen if I persisted... 2 laps later it did. I heard the noise and instantly dipped the clutch and hit the kill switch. All too late of course... And that meant no 2nd race. Mind you, even if I had of stopped I didn't have enough time to strip the head off and change the exhaust valves anyway. No consolation for being a complete pratt though. So once again its engine out... except the re-build is going to be a lot more extensive as I could see the offending exhaust valve jammed in the crown of number 3 piston.. so that'll be a damaged head as well then.
What is more annoying is that I was to make my first foray in to the Swinging Sixties series at Mallory Park, Bank Holiday Monday, 31st August. And worse than that, I simply do not have the time to hand to do that re-build any time soon... Excuse me while I take myself outside and give myself a damn good talking to.

August 5 2010


From the beautiful setting and interesting and testing/demanding track that is Cadwell Park to the stark, tedious double drag strip, chain-link fenced edifice that is 'Stalag Silverstone'. Most definitely not a Mini-friendly circuit. The track is not very entertaining at all. Mostly two longish stretched of flat-out with two stops – one a hair pin (Becketts) and one a 'hurry up and wait' series of very, very slow corners that you have to literally trundle round at idle (Luffield complex). A circuit for the power-boys then except if it is wet. And we had a double header (two races) to do here. Great. The car was in good order post Cadwell, so nothing to do on it except over-inflate the tyres and load it on to the trailer. The weather reports were not too promising (basically 'grim, may be damp, cold, over-cast') but at least there was not likely to be snow as there was a couple of years ago. Though I suspect I would have preferred it if it had snowed – fun for all the family! Instead of going straight to the circuit Friday as usual, we decided to stay over with my sparring partner Steve and his good lady Alison. They live around an hour or so from Silverstone. Seeing as the weather was not looking like being too clement, and I had picked up a heavy, horrible cold from somebody during the week immediately before, we decided that the warmth and dryness offered by a proper roof was a better deal. Plus this being a 'double header' weekend for us – we had qualifying on Saturday and two races on Sunday. The drive down to Steve & Alisons was the usual aggro that is navigating the roads in the UK. Didn't even get out of Yorkshire before we hit a traffic jam on the A1 caused by a multi-car accident. And I REALLY need to do something about the brakes on the van – they are bloody awful and down-right nervous-making. Anyway – we made it eventually, with me feeling pretty crappy health-wise. A decent Indian meal and a few beers preceded an evening of general hilarity – finally retiring to bed a little later than perhaps we ought! Kick off was quite early Saturday morning. Saturday morning dawned grey, cold, windy and damp. At least both sets of tyres were now scrubbed in. By the time our qualifying session came around it was only damp, not wet so I went with the scrubbed tyres. It was Steve first time out for quite a while, but as he's always quick no matter what i decided to let him past me as we went out on to the track and to try and follow him. That almost ended prematurely – at the first corner (Copse) in fact, as Steve went it to it at quite a rate – somewhat quicker that I judged prudent in the conditions and straight out of the collecting area. He went VERY sideways. So much so that myself and the two cars with me (Dolomite Sprint and RS200 Escort) backed RIGHT off and waited. Steve collected it up and shot off down to Maggots, leaving the three of us looking at each other and obviously 'tutting' in our helmets and shaking our heads in a resigned fashion. The track was extremely slippery, not at all helped by various cars in previous qualifying session dumping oil here, there and everywhere. It was worse than Cadwell on brand new tyres was – so once again decided just to get the car back to the paddock in one piece. Result was Steve's quickest lap was 2.5 seconds faster than mine. Despite that he was only two spots on the grid up on me, and we weren't the slowest by some margin. Steve was pretty impressed with the engine I just built him – though how good would yet to be proven under dry racing conditions. Usual post qualifying check over and re-fuel undertaken, Steve discovered oil ejected from hat seemed to be the clutch/primary gear seal. Hmmm. He cleaned it up and decided to do the first race to see what happened. There have been issues with these seals on and off for a couple of years now – seems down to grossly inconsistent manufacturing. We then set off back to Steve's to warm up, get fed and watered and early to bed. Well – sort of early. Back at the circuit Sunday and the weather was distinctly brighter, warmer (not by much though), less windy and drier. Though I was still feeling pretty crappy with this damned cold thing. Down to the collecting area for the first of our two races of the day, out and round the circuit, back to the grid and lined up. VERY close together and almost line a-stern. Hmmmm. I wanted to get away and up behind Steve who was on the inside of the row in front of me. Lights on, off -and away. I haven't been making good starts for some time – having been excellent off the line for years. No idea why – I think it was because I was thinking too much about what I wad doing, where before I just did whatever I did sort of instinctively. So i determined not to think about it and hey presto! Great start. I couldn't get inside as a Mk1 Lotus Cortina was pushing through the middle (same bloke that pushed past me at Cadwell), so I went left and up the outside of the next row in front of me. Not a good plan as heading in to the right-hander that is Copse on the first lap means everybody is going to slide out left... where I was. I tried to hold position for as long as possible, across the kerbs, then way out on to the Tarmac apron before finally having to lift to avoid being pushed way of the track side. As soon as you lift slightly it's like you've been 'paused' and everybody else goes to 'fast forward'. Consequently going through the left kink (Maggots) then down to the big stop that is a hairpin right (Becketts) I had lost a heap of ground. Coming out on to the looonnngggggg back straight I was some 100 yards behind Steve. I doubted then that I'd catch him, and I didn't. I got tangled up with a Hillman Avenger and my mate in the Mk2 Lotus Cortina. I spent the whole race trying to catch the Cortina and fend off the Avenger. The two straight sections that make up the track between Becketts hairpin and the stupid Luffield complex meant I had to work very hard at getting the stop-go-slow-bendy sections sorted to get a good run out of them to try and stay in touch with the Cortina and ahead of the Avenger. If Avenger-man hadn't been so desperate to get by me for the bulk of the laps we could have helped each other catch up with the Cortina. But he wanted past at the soonest opportunity... Amazingly it took him until around the second to last lap to get past me – my Clubby was so quick pulling out of the slow sections that I made yards and yards on him that he struggled to regain on the straights – so it was mostly down to out-braking and track position in to the slow bits. I finally let myself down and he slipped past then drove WIDE to keep me behind to the chequered flag. Meanwhile I could see Steve ahead – having a very lonely race. BUT – at least he saw the chequered flag, so he was dead-chuffed. Downside was that clutch seal was leaking pretty bad. Rather than risk stacking the car because of oil on brakes or tyres or both he decided to take the car home whole and sort the clutch seal. A very mature decision! He was just so damned pleased he'd finished a race at last, and was even more pleased at how the engine went. Very impressed. I re-filled the fuel tank and a quick check round showed nothing else needing doing so we went off to watch some of the other championship races from our club. Then time to get prepared for my second race of the day. We had asked that the grid be a little more spread out and offset from race one as it was very cramped. The marshals duly complied. Red lights on, off, and another blinding start. I shot out left and up the outside of the two rows in front before pulling back in again. Pleased with such a good start I was hoping to get out on to that long back straight behind some of the bigger, faster cars to try and get as much of a tow as possible. Bad news was, several of the more, erm.. 'determined' mid pack drivers decided to have a bit of a coming together as nobody wanted to give way at Becketts for the first time. Sheer stupidity. As those luminaries on BBCs F1 coverage keep reminding us - you can not win the race at the first corner. 4 cars did not rejoin the race after that corner fracas. And of course it completely screwed up my excellent start and gain in position. I went wide out left to avoid all the tortured tin and plastic bits that was flying around. By the time I'd negotiated the mess, I was back behind that bloomin' Mk2 Lotus Cortina and Hillman Avenger! This time they had some distance on me, so head down and try and catch up. Except the harder I tried, the further behind I fell. I then did the one thing you should never do, and is totally uncharacteristic for me – I drove angry. Red mist came down and I started over-driving the car everywhere in an effort to catch them up. The consequences were inevitable – two missed flat-out (no lift on the throttle) up-shifts from second to third (a dodgey thing to do at the best of times with the vagueness that is the Minis gear change system) and a jarring brick-wall-hitting shift from 4th to 1st when already pulling 7,800rpm in 4th. Damn near grazed the glass off the headlights. That happened because I had started shifting down through the gears instead of slowing the car on the brakes then selecting the relevant gear for the corner like I usually do. The result of that was pretty much a foregone conclusion. Towards the end of that long back straight I felt a slight rumble, and dipped the clutch to shove the gear lever into neutral just as there was a loud bang and oil smoke everywhere.... obviously caused by a hole in the block and/or gearbox casing where the presumably busted centre main cap had made its escape. Idiot. So – load it on the trailer, take it home then strip it and take a look. This is the perfect illustration of what I try to explain to folk about main caps and main cap straps. If you drive the car properly, and do not use the gearbox to slow the car down (the brakes are FAR more effective at this) there is no need for a main cap strap. Especially if it is a cheap one that is not ground flat and square. So the vast majority of road-used engines do not need them. And race engines driven properly do not need them either. If you are an engine/gearbox abuser, you should go straight to a steel centre main cap or a proper, quality steel, ground strap. In which case the centre main is unlikely to break – but something else will eventually. You just move the problem to the next weakest link. So don't drive like an idiot.




05.06.10,  Brands Hatch


I am not sure why, but I don't really enjoy Brands Hatch. It is a quite technically difficult circuit to set fast lap times on. It is most definitely one of those circuits that 'be slow to go fast' applies to. You can not hustle or hurry it. I am speaking from the point of view of having to use treaded tyres that don't give a tremendous amount of grip. And probably a circuit where 'loose is fast' applies... but I am still building confidence enough to make the car looser than it is now. Positively stable in comparison to my mate Steve Young's car. All the forgoing was very obviously illustrated by our qualifying session. More in a minute on that. So – having built the gear/diff assemblies in to a new casing to replace the aerated one from Silverstone (one third of my new 3-piece centre main cap was ejected through it), a steel 4-bolt centre main cap fitted to the block, and a replacement crankshaft fitted (the Silverstone explosion one was perfect aside from a 0.016” bend in it – straightenable according to my local engineering shop.... but I wasn't taking any chances) all reinstalled in the car and fired up for basic checks, all was in order for the trip south. I had considered doing a suspension geometry check/re-set-up but time became an issue with a still burgeoning workload. It will get done after Brands before we go to Thruxton. A mightily fast circuit where everything needs to be perfect in the suspension department. Having messed about with thermostat blanking devices of one sort or another over the past few years – the last ones being simply large flat washers with variously sized holes drilled in them – I decide to go back to running a thermostat. Something I would now be re-recommending to all my engine customers. Mainly for two reasons. One, modern unleaded or super-unleaded fuels appear to need engine coolant temperatures of 85-90 degrees C to get best performance from – that's why modern engines run at more elevated temperatures than those of some 15 or more years back, nothing to do with improving cabin heater performance! And two, completely erratic climate conditions we are now experiencing. The Brands race was set to be a fair test of whether the cooling system would cope as very hot and heavy conditions were predicted. And they were not incorrect! Having stopped off on the trip down for dinner with very good friends, we arrived at the circuit around 22:30 Friday night, quickly unloaded the car in a very vacant-looking paddock, and hit the hay. Saturday morning dawned very, very bright and sunny. An expanse of clear blue skies (excepting all the busy jet vapour trails) great my eyes as I emerged from the van. Lovely. Qualifying was at 09:50, so not too much hurrying around to sign on, get scrutineered, sort fuel levels, set tyre pressures, torque wheel nuts, and check oil and coolant levels. But as usual, before you knew it, it was time to get suited and booted and get over to the collecting area. We were qualifying session 3. The first two sessions had been stopped by red flags, and several cars in each session had liberally lubricated the track surface with the contents of their engine fluids. To say it was slippery would be an understatement once we hit the track. So much so that one of our brave boys managed to loose it on said oil, just sliding it in to the kitty litter at the bottom of the hill that is the fearsome Paddock Hill Bend. Red flags out, back to the pit lane and wait. We were then told we'd get 3 more minutes on track. I did think of not bothering as I couldn't see how I was going to get a faster lap time, but decided I'd paid my money, what the hell. Back out on to the circuit, some more slithering and sliding, and that was it. Qualifying over. Now, back to what I was saying in the opening paragraph. Because it was so damned slippery, and wanting to avoid the stupidity I fell in to at Silverstone, I drove very, well, laid back. Braking very early, careful and positive down-changes, waiting along time to get on the loud pedal – all of which resulted in a mere 3 tenths of a second off Steve's best, and both only very marginally off the lap record! Despite all the surface lubrication! Which was added to by two of our championship compatriots. Lesson learnt then. And Steve and I qualified 10th and 11th out of 17. The vast majority of which were serious engined/horse-powered cars. Very satisfying. More so for Steve as he had completed another full qualifying session with the engine running perfectly. Qualifying continued and every last one was red flagged for cars loosing it on the slippery surface and ending up in dangerous places. Back in the paddock, with the engine still hot I re-set the valve clearances and checked/re-set the ignition timing, retarding it two degrees because of the hot weather. Sorted re-fuelling and after the cooling system had cooled sufficiently, checked the coolant level. The coolant temperature gauge showed a steady 80 degrees C – so the 82 degree thermostat was doing it's job, and the cooling system coped easily. No coolant loss – so that was fine. By the way, another couple of benefits of running a thermostat is that the engine warms up much quicker, and makes sure there is a healthy amount of coolant pushed out the heater tap take off point. All leading to a more balanced water jacket temperature around the engine. Also negates pratting about blanking sections of the cooling system off in cooler weather. Food ingested, and a heap of water, off to watch some of the other qualifying and then the first race before once again clambering in to battle gear. This was going to be a very sweaty affair as the temperature had climbed considerably and it was very close. Threatening thunderstorms type thing. Twenty minute race coming up – around 18 or 19 laps. Usual drill – red lights on, off, and a not brilliant start, but not as bad as some others. Starting on the inside of the track, I determined to stay there. The outside line around Paddock first time round is not a good place to be. Unfortunately once again I made the incorrect choice as I got boxed in and stuck behind a line of cars hugging the inside line all the way up to Druids hair-pin. So the second part of my plan of sticking close to Steve went out the window. Having negotiated Druids, there was several cars between me and him and the ensuing Whacky-Racers style gaggles of cars that is the first lap of most races meant I struggled to catch up with him again as I was busy fending off some and trying to over-take others. A couple of laps in and I'd got past several road blocks and ended up out on my own, with Steve in a similar situation around 100 yards ahead. I have obviously upped my game in terms of driving ability as our laps times were within tenths of a second of each other – consequently I wasn't catching him. And we weren't catching the Mk1 Lotus Cortina in front of him either. However, a threat was looming in my rear view mirror. There was a Hillman Avenger catching me. He'd been skittled early on and was making his way up through the field. I was determined to make me the end of his progress. By now the tyres had given of their best. The engine was still absolutely singing, so the only place he was able to make up ground on me was Clearways where I just couldn't get the car turned fast enough to get on the power soon enough. The last few laps was a real fight. I purposely held him up in every corner I could because my little Clubby really hauls and I could pull away from him. Driving so defensively, Steve was easing away from he. I realised he knew what was going on as all of a sudden he was coming back towards me, having eased off. Anyway. I had my mirrors full of bright yellow Avenger, so that was my job – keep him behind. Hard on the brakes at ever corner, chug round just to keep him behind then nail it and the little engine responded in lion-hearted fashion every time. It was just Clearways.... Then another ingredient was added in to the mix. The race leader was fast coming up behind – a Triumph Dolomite being piloted by the immensely capable Nigel Garrett. Coming through Clearways I saw the first blue flag being waved. Crap. Can't pull over or back off now, that damned Avenger will come through. Hugged the inside of the track up to and around Paddock. Another waved blue flag. Damn – I've got to let him past before I get flagged again at Druids... but if I do that, Avenger-man is going to follow him through. Made all the worse by us already hugging the inside line. I could just step out left in front of the leader, he really wouldn't be impressed with that, so I rrsigned myself to both he and Avenger-man coming past me around the outside at Druids, which meant Avenger-man would have the inside line down in to the bend at the bottom of the hill. ARRGGHHH!!! They both swept passed, I took the fastest line possible through that bottom bend in order to out-drag the Avenger along Graham Hill Bend in to Clearways the try and fend him off there again. All to no avail. I just couldn't get the power down soon enough to then out-drag him to the line. It was damned close though.... a mere tenths of a second. So I finished 9th instead of 8th. Very hot and very sweaty. The car was all still in one piece though, the engine singing along. Coolant temp a rock steady 80 degrees C. And Steve saw his second chequered flag in as many races – so he was all smiles and a happy bunny.