STX (Street Touring X) NER Event #5 - The Eagles have landed - would anyone care for Mouse pate?
#1
07-04-2008, 09:02 AM
NER Event #5 - The Eagles have landed - would anyone care for Mouse pate?
Classic summer weather welcomed the 118 competitors to Devens for the fifth points event of the season - humid, hot, and unpredictable.
The overcast that kept the runways damp from the 7am showers persisted until mid-morning, but did not prevent the UV radiation from drying the course nor from searing any and all fair-skinned folks by the end of day. The greyness gave way to bright sun and heat before noon, and that tested all participants until the wall cloud's arrival around 4:30. More on that later.
The course was wonderful in comparison to the NT setup from the previous event - with a line that could easily be seen and no visual traps for those struggling to remember to look ahead. Two walks were all there was time for, but that sufficed due to the flow and layout. The final leg which returned down the main runway featured widely spaced and fairly tight offsets - a feature that I knew I needed practice with.
With the grid centered in the paddock area, only two run groups, and a consensus among all present that we wanted six runs the stage was set for smooth event operation. The whole day was marked by extra effort towards this end, and absent the wall cloud we should have achieved it.
With STX running in heat one I was able to proceed from course walking to course driving with little delay - coming to the line fresh, calm, and mentally prepared. There is a fascinating thread on sccaforums.com (http://sccaforums.com/forums/thread/308075.aspx) regarding the physiology of driving which in retrospect makes me wonder if calmness is an asset or not. My normal approach to 1st runs is to ensure that I am clean, on course, and to assess the difference between what I saw walking and what I see driving.
Not so on this morning however! I had a fresh picture of the course, well rehearsed in my head, and took that as the basis for overconfidence and over aggressiveness, and went out and ate two cones. The first was due to being late and off line on the taxiway and the second was due to utter brain fade on the last left hand offset three gates before the finish.
Chagrined at the howling tires and sliding chassis that characterized that run, my 2nd attempt was re-aimed at that original goal - on course and no cones...
Not so again! To my horror and frustration I managed to exactly recreate the circumstance that cost me in run 1 - again the last left hander in the offsets. I remember it in slow motion - the poor positioning, the early turn in, and that ghastly thump under the left rear wheel.
I returned to grid with little to console me as the number of things I got wrong was far longer than the list of things that went well.
One of the fun things about STX this year is seeing which of my two eagle nemesis would be first to pick my bones, and at this point I noted that Eric had a worse first run than I - spinning the Civic. Dan was setting the pace thus far, and I took some consolation from the raw times as I was indeed on the same second albeit distressingly sloppy. Of course that did not last!
Run 3 was my last chance to avoid being grumpy during my work assignment, and I managed to finally meet my goals for run one after three tries. Of course by the time I had figured out how to drive and gotten down to a 75 flat, my eagle compadres who knew how to drive immediately were sinking down into the high 73s.
By this time the sun was baking the premesis, heat two was lining up, and it was time to join Chris, Chris, and Glenn to run the grid for heat two. In the spirit of keeping the event zipping along we took pains to keep cars at the line, ensure that the two driver cars were ready and warned of our progress, and that the cart drivers did not have to succumb to heat prostration due to early donning of their nice snug driver suits and body armor. I may have been a touch too enthusiastic in my approach however, as I distinctly remember one of our senior members who snapped at me just a little while refitting the nose of a C Mod - reminding me that we were running a regional and not a National Tour!
After a short lunch break, and after admiring the battles in the other classes, I had further opportunity to redeem myself and try and close the gap from the morning debacle. With the admonition firmly in mind that one may go faster by driving slower, I took the afternoon runs focussing on being tidy but particularly on not overdriving the offsets.
I never seem to be able to resume in the afternoon where I leave off in the morning, and this day was no exception. Run four was slow, dirty, and did not help my cause except perhaps to raise my frustration level back to the point where I had adequate focus for the task at hand.
With Eric drawn away in the afternoon, Dan and I had three runs to reach the best mark of the morning - Eric's 73.036. I ignored that time, and ignored the three stout runs that Dan layed down, and instead concentrated on cleaning up my act a bit. The result was, finally, two runs that didn't leave me blushing and cursing. Runs five and six were within a hundredth of a second which is good, but both were still well over a second off the pace of my feathered tormentors, which is not good.
When the dust had settled I felt that I had used what I had as well as I could, and also reinforced the lesson that it is not easy to be fast - even in fast equipment!
Resuming my labors in the grid, in equal haste to the morning, I split my attention between the starter, the competitors, and the darkening sky. Mid way through the second run of the last heat the latter won by sending the boom and crack of thunder echoing over the airfield followed by visible lightning. With an apologetic sadness I had to run down the long row of competitors - most of whom had but one run completed in the last heat - and pass out the bad news that we were done for the day. Almost as I finished this onerous task the deluge commenced. As I recall we pulled Tony out of the back of the line just before all hell broke loose out of respect for his open cockpit and the threatening weather. I noticed after the fact that he did not waste this opportunity and put in his fastest run of the day before presumably being nearly drowned with the rest of us.
From there things became a bit blurry. I remember taking down the radio antenna while wondering if I was nuts to be holding the tallest metal object in the area. I remember the hasty stacking of electrical components in dry areas of the truck, while watching a whole paddock of courageous folks each taking their own course as the rain poured down.
The last drama of the day commenced at the gas station in Ayer, where I put my last seven dollars in the tank of the Cooper (1.6 gallons) which had the low fuel warning light on during the entire afternoon heat. That measly addition didn't even turn off the warning light and so I crept back to Wenham over the fifty miles of intervening highway at an average speed of about 60 - drafting a Salvation Army truck all the way down Route 3 and up 128. It was a nerve wracking trip during which I noted that I had forgotten my cell phone, and even if I had remembered it my son was at work. Thinking about walking is not conducive to a placid drive, but I made it - possible my Salvation was that truck.
Stay tuned for the next installment of the Mouse's tale - where I examine the theory that if one can not beat them, one must join them!
Cheers,
Charlie
The overcast that kept the runways damp from the 7am showers persisted until mid-morning, but did not prevent the UV radiation from drying the course nor from searing any and all fair-skinned folks by the end of day. The greyness gave way to bright sun and heat before noon, and that tested all participants until the wall cloud's arrival around 4:30. More on that later.
The course was wonderful in comparison to the NT setup from the previous event - with a line that could easily be seen and no visual traps for those struggling to remember to look ahead. Two walks were all there was time for, but that sufficed due to the flow and layout. The final leg which returned down the main runway featured widely spaced and fairly tight offsets - a feature that I knew I needed practice with.
With the grid centered in the paddock area, only two run groups, and a consensus among all present that we wanted six runs the stage was set for smooth event operation. The whole day was marked by extra effort towards this end, and absent the wall cloud we should have achieved it.
With STX running in heat one I was able to proceed from course walking to course driving with little delay - coming to the line fresh, calm, and mentally prepared. There is a fascinating thread on sccaforums.com (http://sccaforums.com/forums/thread/308075.aspx) regarding the physiology of driving which in retrospect makes me wonder if calmness is an asset or not. My normal approach to 1st runs is to ensure that I am clean, on course, and to assess the difference between what I saw walking and what I see driving.
Not so on this morning however! I had a fresh picture of the course, well rehearsed in my head, and took that as the basis for overconfidence and over aggressiveness, and went out and ate two cones. The first was due to being late and off line on the taxiway and the second was due to utter brain fade on the last left hand offset three gates before the finish.
Chagrined at the howling tires and sliding chassis that characterized that run, my 2nd attempt was re-aimed at that original goal - on course and no cones...
Not so again! To my horror and frustration I managed to exactly recreate the circumstance that cost me in run 1 - again the last left hander in the offsets. I remember it in slow motion - the poor positioning, the early turn in, and that ghastly thump under the left rear wheel.
I returned to grid with little to console me as the number of things I got wrong was far longer than the list of things that went well.
One of the fun things about STX this year is seeing which of my two eagle nemesis would be first to pick my bones, and at this point I noted that Eric had a worse first run than I - spinning the Civic. Dan was setting the pace thus far, and I took some consolation from the raw times as I was indeed on the same second albeit distressingly sloppy. Of course that did not last!
Run 3 was my last chance to avoid being grumpy during my work assignment, and I managed to finally meet my goals for run one after three tries. Of course by the time I had figured out how to drive and gotten down to a 75 flat, my eagle compadres who knew how to drive immediately were sinking down into the high 73s.
By this time the sun was baking the premesis, heat two was lining up, and it was time to join Chris, Chris, and Glenn to run the grid for heat two. In the spirit of keeping the event zipping along we took pains to keep cars at the line, ensure that the two driver cars were ready and warned of our progress, and that the cart drivers did not have to succumb to heat prostration due to early donning of their nice snug driver suits and body armor. I may have been a touch too enthusiastic in my approach however, as I distinctly remember one of our senior members who snapped at me just a little while refitting the nose of a C Mod - reminding me that we were running a regional and not a National Tour!
After a short lunch break, and after admiring the battles in the other classes, I had further opportunity to redeem myself and try and close the gap from the morning debacle. With the admonition firmly in mind that one may go faster by driving slower, I took the afternoon runs focussing on being tidy but particularly on not overdriving the offsets.
I never seem to be able to resume in the afternoon where I leave off in the morning, and this day was no exception. Run four was slow, dirty, and did not help my cause except perhaps to raise my frustration level back to the point where I had adequate focus for the task at hand.
With Eric drawn away in the afternoon, Dan and I had three runs to reach the best mark of the morning - Eric's 73.036. I ignored that time, and ignored the three stout runs that Dan layed down, and instead concentrated on cleaning up my act a bit. The result was, finally, two runs that didn't leave me blushing and cursing. Runs five and six were within a hundredth of a second which is good, but both were still well over a second off the pace of my feathered tormentors, which is not good.
When the dust had settled I felt that I had used what I had as well as I could, and also reinforced the lesson that it is not easy to be fast - even in fast equipment!
Resuming my labors in the grid, in equal haste to the morning, I split my attention between the starter, the competitors, and the darkening sky. Mid way through the second run of the last heat the latter won by sending the boom and crack of thunder echoing over the airfield followed by visible lightning. With an apologetic sadness I had to run down the long row of competitors - most of whom had but one run completed in the last heat - and pass out the bad news that we were done for the day. Almost as I finished this onerous task the deluge commenced. As I recall we pulled Tony out of the back of the line just before all hell broke loose out of respect for his open cockpit and the threatening weather. I noticed after the fact that he did not waste this opportunity and put in his fastest run of the day before presumably being nearly drowned with the rest of us.
From there things became a bit blurry. I remember taking down the radio antenna while wondering if I was nuts to be holding the tallest metal object in the area. I remember the hasty stacking of electrical components in dry areas of the truck, while watching a whole paddock of courageous folks each taking their own course as the rain poured down.
The last drama of the day commenced at the gas station in Ayer, where I put my last seven dollars in the tank of the Cooper (1.6 gallons) which had the low fuel warning light on during the entire afternoon heat. That measly addition didn't even turn off the warning light and so I crept back to Wenham over the fifty miles of intervening highway at an average speed of about 60 - drafting a Salvation Army truck all the way down Route 3 and up 128. It was a nerve wracking trip during which I noted that I had forgotten my cell phone, and even if I had remembered it my son was at work. Thinking about walking is not conducive to a placid drive, but I made it - possible my Salvation was that truck.
Stay tuned for the next installment of the Mouse's tale - where I examine the theory that if one can not beat them, one must join them!
Cheers,
Charlie
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