Part 9: The best laid schemes o' mice an' rally fans

After this dreadful year I think we can all reflect on the statement I opened 2020 with: ‘life has a funny habit of getting in the way of your plans...’ though maybe I’ll remove the word ‘funny’ after this year. Rally Quest, like pretty much everything, has been turned upside-down by old Daddy Covid.

March 2020

My Track Cruise appetiser in February left me ravenous for more motorsport bites. I was keen to kick on with the rest of my Rally Quest plans for the year. 

I’m a lucky boy – several members of my family (and avid Rally Quest readers I assume) generously chipped in to buy me the V8 Muscle Car experience I’d planned for. Wherever did they get the idea?

Now, cast your mind back to the beginning of the year (approximately 36 years ago). Something was looming on what seemed like the distant horizon. Daddy Covid had first paid a visit to New Zealand in late February. It was only a few cases and seemingly spreading slowly by my birthday in mid-March. I was on the verge of booking the V8 experience, thinking I’d be able to get it done before things got too serious, if they got serious at all. That Covid thing was just an overblown flu, right? However, thankfully (from the perspective of making the right choice for the people of New Zealand, if not progressing my motorsport dreams) Jacinda acted quickly and decisively. New Zealand went into a very strict lockdown soon after my birthday. Apparently driving a V8 Muscle Car is not deemed as an essential activity. P.C. gone mad! The event was put on ice.

June 2020

After a few nervous months of working from home, hundreds of walks around all the nearby suburbs and plenty of furious sim racing – we’d made it through. We were free from Covid in New Zealand. So, I booked one of the next available slots for my V8 experience at Hampton Downs in June – not fully thinking through the fact that there’s about a 98% chance of rain on any June day in Auckland.

The day finally arrived, and I returned to Hampton Downs. As I set off it was raining of course, though it was forecast to clear throughout the morning so I was still hopeful of getting out on track. After the safety briefing, I got kitted up in full protective gear. We were getting showered every few minutes, and the sky looked disgruntled for miles around. We delayed an hour or so to see if things would improve. I perched against the pit wall, pondering life and watching a few club members kicking up spray as they tentatively pootled around the track. One chap in a single-seater span off and had to be towed back to the pits.

After a further delay, and with rain continuing to fall, the instructor invited me for a spin in the Lexus safety car to assess the track first-hand, and to have some fun. After a few wet and wild laps of opposite locking around the corners, he said this was some of the worst track conditions he’d seen this year. The instructor also regaled me with a lesson he’d learned directly from Sir Jacky Stewart about smooth racing lines – a lesson that has now been passed onto me. So basically, I was trained by Sir Jacky Stewart. Got it? 

We returned to the pits for a bit more waiting around. By now, the rain had reduced to a gentle mizzle and the sun was starting to peek through. However, the track surface was still as slippery as greasy trout. As is often the way in this country the approach of ‘she’ll be right’ was taken and the instructor decided to let me have a crack at sailing the Mustang. I was buckled in and we pulled out of the pits. Despite the ABS and my tentative touch, the brakes locked up at the faintest tickle. It was like driving on black ice. Partway through the second lap, still at a modest speed, the car decided midway through a corner to take a novel path of its own. No harm done, but it was clear these were no conditions for a novice to be driving a racing car on slick tyres. Both with sadness and gratitude we pulled the plug and came into the pits.

I was sad to be cutting the experience short, yes, but thankful that I was able to get out at all, and that Hampton Downs generously allowed me to come back another time when the weather was better and try the full experience again. I was thankful also that next time I would be much more likely to drive on a dry track so I could really push the car and myself without too much fear of binning the car, or myself. Despite the limited track time, it was still a great day. I loved just being there, experiencing the sites and sounds of motorsports.

June–November 2020

No dramas. I’d simply have to wait a few months and book again in the spring. 

Now please re-read my opening quote relating to plans. Over the following months Daddy Covid came back to Aotearoa, uninvited, for a second, then a third visit.

Another, thankfully shorter, lockdown followed and the constant lingering threat of further lockdowns hung around for some time after.

During this time I had planned to spectate at the return of the World Rally Championship to New Zealand which, like so many other sporting events this year, was sadly, but sensibly cancelled.

I’d also booked to attend a newcomers day at KartSport Auckland. Again, cancelled.

As the year went on my frustrations were building, feeling my plans were being thwarted at every turn. I think we all have a good grasp of that feeling this year.

I did make one major step forward in my Rally Quest however. A chance discovery of a solid bargain and the heap of pent up frustration led me to buying a proper sim rig – a wheel, pedals, seat and headset. I had originally planned to wait for next year, but if I’d learned anything this year (and no, I didn’t learn to make sourdough) it’s not to put off until tomorrow what you can do today. And I’m glad I did. It’s been fantastic! And what’s more, sim racing is fairly well pandemic-proof. Take that Aunty Rona.

Coming into November and things seemed to be back under control again. I booked a new date in December for V8 take 2.

December 2020

It’s now summer in Auckland, meaning there’s no more than an 85% chance of rain. Thankfully the conditions on the day I returned to Hampton Downs were perfect. 

Putting the driving gear on was now starting to feel second nature, though I doubt I’ll ever get the hang of fastening a helmet strap properly. No delays this time, straight in the car. I was just that little bit more familiar with the car than the first time around, so there was less to think about and the noise and sensation of being in a race car no longer felt as startling.

Playing sim games with a gamepad had been somewhat useful for my previous experiences. But, playing with a serious sim rig in recent months has been a genuine game-changer for my racing skills. I didn’t need to do the mental rewiring I’d done in the past – the controls are now the same. I instantly took to the track like never before. 

As you are driving, the feeling of being fully focused is amazing. You are aware of so much, and at the same time, so little. You feel every bump, pebble and ripple on the road, but I couldn’t tell you how fast I was going, never having a moment to look at the speedometer right in front of me. You almost lose the sensation of having your own body, you become part of the car.

There was still a lot to take in. I wish I’d had another 30 or 40 laps on my own to get truly familiar with the car, the track and my own skill. A real positive takeaway for me was that each lap felt better than the last, and all of them felt far more competent than any experience I’ve had to date. I was more aware of the available grip, the acceleration lag and the power of the brakes with each corner – meaning I could push and push. 

This experience showed me without a doubt that I am making progress in my quest. Slow progress. But solid progress nonetheless. I’m vastly more experienced and confident than I would have been a couple of years ago, but there is still infinite knowledge and experience for me to acquire. But, I'm looking forward to the challenge more than ever. 

Here’s hoping 2021 is a little kinder to us all and our plans, no matter how silly and frivolous.