When I was a young pup working the approvals desk at Ford Credit, we called it “First Payment Default”. New car buyer takes delivery of new car and just, you know, never gets around to sending in a check. Most first payments were due between thirty and forty-five days after delivery. By the fifty-day mark, we were either on the phone with the person listening to excuses or furiously skip-tracing. Happened more often than you might think. Some people simply aren’t cut out to be on the debtor side of an automotive loan.
The trackday equivalent to this is the “one and done”. New guy shows up. Sometimes he is full of braggadocio, other times he is a church mouse in a motorcycle-spec helmet. Doesn’t matter. By the end of the day, he will be on the wrecker, having destroyed or seriously damaged his rather expensive and sporty daily driver. With any luck, he’ll be unhurt, but regardless, he won’t be coming back. One-and-done stories are the Beluga caviar of lunch-break stories among seasoned instructors and racers: short and delicious.
Here’s mine.
We’ll call him Goran, because that (ignorantly, on my part) sounds about right for his Eastern European ethnicity. I worked with him at a bank in central Ohio. Tall, hard-faced, and aggressively intelligent, he’d survived the Bosnian conflict as a teenager and made it to the United States a few years later. He made good money and drove a brand-new, manual-transmission, V8-powered Audi S4.
He caught me in the parking lot one day as I was getting into my Lotus Seven clone. (What? Jack had a Lotus Seven clone? Yes. Why hasn’t Jack written about it? When I get around to it.) What did I do with a 1200-lb, 170-horsepower car? Take it to the racetrack, of course. Anybody can go. A place called Nelson Ledges. Cost you a hundred and twenty bucks. Really? He’d see me there next Saturday.
Cometh the hour, cometh the man: Goran met me at the nearly empty track with a motorcycle helmet and a handheld video camera. I took him around Ledges for a few laps in the Seven. This experience usually had an effect somewhere between “bewildering” and “terrifying” for newbies but Goran was unaffected. Enough of the passenger time-wasting. He wanted to drive. I agreed to coach him a bit.
Dear readers, I blush to consider what an excellent driving instructor I already considered myself to be, those nine long years ago. I had internalized everything my instructor had told me and could parrot him at length. I’d read the Ross Bentley “Speed Secrets” books many times and had absolutely memorized them. (A brief aside: A few years later, I took Ross’s “Coach The Coach” class and thoroughly upset Mr. Bentley with my stalker-esque ability to quote him word-for-word and cite specific page numbers in his works. I graduated the class with honors but not without a certain amount of disquiet on the part of the staff. My Facebook friend request to Ross has gone unanswered for some time now.) I’d turned a few fellow street racers into barely legitimate trackday drivers and intended to perform the same magic on Goran.
In the hundreds of coaching sessions I’ve done since that day in 2003, I’ve come to believe that I can teach a driver anything but courage. I can fix shuffle steering, I can adjust your vision, I can fine-tune your ability to sense traction, apply the throttle, and nail the exit — but I cannot give you the desire you’ll need to be truly fast. That has to be in you when you put your helmet on. Well, Goran had that courage in spades. Full throttle from the first corner, no vagueness or uncertainty, no obsession with the mirrors, no worried questions to me. I did my best to restrain the casual violence of his control efforts and temper the instant ABS which pulsed through the car whenever he braked at more or less the last moment.
Nelson Ledges was, and is, not a course for the faint of heart, but for Goran, who had once held his dying brother in his arms after a sniper had shot them both on the grimy Bosnian streets, it was a playground. After two sessions of instruction, he was fast but extremely rough.
“After lunch,” I said, “we should really work the raw effort out of your steering motions, you are relying on the stability control to save your ass and that isn’t good.”
“After lunch,” he replied, “I can drive by myself, it is okay, I know what I want to do.” I pleaded with him for the next half hour to let me get back in the car with him, but he made it plain that he thought I was holding him back from “real speed.” My ticket to ride in the S4 had been revoked. Grudgingly, he agreed that if I wanted to follow him around the track and offer suggestions, I could do that.
This isn’t the kind of situation which would fly in a NASA HPDE or with many of the other organizations for which I have coached — but there was no organization here. Goran had paid his $120 and he had the right to kick me out. Fair enough.
With my friend Miles in the right seat holding Goran’s camera, I pulled the Seven out of pit lane and started shadowing Goran. Wow. From his pace, it appeared that I had been holding him back. He was fast immediately, but very rough with it. I could see the ESP repeatedly cutting in as he sawed at the wheel and banged the brakes in midcorner. Still, he was more or less at the limit of his tires and the S4 was reasonably fast to begin with, so I found that I needed to pay a bit of attention to keep my car on his tail, particularly down the back straight where the Audi could kiss 130mph and the Seven couldn’t break a buck-ten.
It was on perhaps the fifth lap that Goran went wide in the Turn 5-6 complex. He put two wheels off, overcorrected, and slid down the steeply cambered grass away from the turn. Traveling at perhaps fifty miles per hour through the turf sideways, it looked like Goran was in for a mildly exciting ride. “HOPE THIS TEACHES HIM A LESSON,” I yelled through my helmet at Miles…
…and then the S4 seemed to trip. Ever so slowly, it rolled, banging the roof once, twice, then coming to rest on its wheels in the tire wall. There weren’t any corner workers around (this was a very casual affair, you see) so Miles and I pulled off and went back to help out. Goran was already out of the car with his helmet off when I reached him, laughing.
“DID YOU SEE THAT?” he said. “IT MUST HAVE LOOKED BAD FOR SURE.”
“We have the video,” I told him, and handed him the camcorder. He watched it again and again, chuckling all the while, as we waited for the wrecker to pull him back to the paddock. At some point, he accidentally erased most of it trying to show it off to one of the very few other trackday participants. Only the last few seconds of the tape remained, from which I later frame-grabbed the header picture of this article.
I felt sick. I felt like I’d let Goran down. When I expressed these sentiments to him, he laughed and clapped me on the back. “How could it be that you let me down? Was me driving the car.” I consoled myself with the fact that Goran had basically refused to let me coach him any further.
Some people have a knack for resolving situations. After a few heated conversations, State Farm agreed to pay off the S4, which had all of perhaps five thousand miles on it and was completely totaled due to a heavily creased roof and C-pillar. Goran got a new GTI. I changed jobs shortly afterwards and didn’t see him for years. When we finally crossed paths again, he regaled me with tales of “stage 3 boost” and 150-mph freeway antics. I suggested that we try going to Ledges again, perhaps this time with a full day’s worth of instruction,
“Why would I?” Goran said, while attacking a hamburger with two-fisted ferocity. “I’d just crash again.” I started to raise an objection, but then realized that sometimes it’s just best to call it quits. One and done, indeed.
Is he really one and done, or has he moved his Balkans Bravado, and rolling riskitude, from a closed course to the public roadways? 150 mph? Stupid git (him).
Forget him Jack, you may have improved his technique, but I don’t think you were really able to teach him much.
Btw, are you really sure insurance paid out? They typically include clauses which prevent paying for racing related costs. Maybe he was using a bit of face-saving Balkans Braggadocio there too.
Jack –
Great story. I got to witness similar bragadoccio at an Audi/Porsche event up at Stoddard (now Willoughby) Audi here in Northeast Ohio: At the S5 launch event that they held, Stoddard made it a car get-together, so there were lots of exotics on display. Ford GTs, Porsche GTs, Ferraris, Lambos – you name it. As I came down Mentor Avenue toward the dealership (which is nestled slightly below grade to the north of the road), I saw smoke coming from the trees on the opposite side of the street.
As I closed in I saw a Ford GT suspended about 10 feet up in the brush on the side of the road and on the other side a group of wealthy car owners laughing their asses off. Apparently the owner of the GT did not heed the advise of the wisened when told that the newly repaved Mentor Avenue was still slick from the one day old asphalt. Coming from the drive of the below-grade parking lot at the dealership this GT knucklehead made the fatal mistake of announcing to the crowd: “hey guys, watch THIS!” (a phrase that almost always precedes ambulances and insurance claims of some form). He peeled out and up into the air, straight across the street and launched himself into the trees.
The owner was unaffected by the event, but the rest of the guys there commented later, “yeah, well this is the same reason nobody wants to do laps with him out at The Ledges – he’s a disaster waiting to happen”.
Perhaps he’s a close relative of your friend Goran?
You just sold me a book, JB.
Sometimes you got to know when your ship is too close to the rocks. Being able to dial back your student to work on proper line can be the hardest thing to do for both student and instructor.
Sort have to pretend that the student is your kid and keep tight reigns on them until you, as a superior, can let them open their wings.
On the other hand, I had a NASA instructor demonstrate his bragadoccio at Road Atlanta by coming within a few feet of stuffing us into the concrete wall on the outside of Turn 5. A common result by drivers who overcook this corner. I had had plenty of on-track experience at Road Atlanta prior to this ride and when he casually asked me if I would like another go around the track with him, my pointed look at him seemed to provide a definite “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I was signed off to go solo and enjoyed the rest of my day.
Wow, no wonder his cavalier attitude. I did not know insurance covers race track accidents.
It does not. Read the fine print in your auto insurance policy. If you take your car on track, be prepared to write it off and walk away.
Or make sure you have a friend with a car trailer. Then the wreck and the debris can be removed from the track, taken to a quiet country lane, planted in a hedge, debris spread up the road and the Police called. I have seen this done on several occasions in the UK. You’d be surprised how often it works.
Up until a few years ago State Farm did cover track accidents. The auto policy has since been amended and State Farm will no longer pay for this sort of thing. Was fun while it lasted.
Just haul the thing home and call your insurance co. No need to stage a crash scene on public roads or involve the the federales. You had an accident, flagged down a tow truck, paid cash, didn’t get a receipt and that’s all there is. Your insurance will assume you were drunk as a hell but will pay anyway and of course drop you as mentioned.
Good plan to be jailed for insurance fraud.
I asked about an HPDE rider from Progressive when I went to renew and the price would’ve been surprisingly renewable – $70 or so for the year.
@chaparral:
An HPDE rider from a company like Progressive is the Holy Grail.
So much so, that I think there must have been a miscommunication of some sort. Are you *sure* that you and whomever you were talking to were discussing the same thing?
If such a coverage were offered, the premium would have to be more than $70 per year. If you’re tracking a $30k vehicle, a $70 premium would only cover the car being written off once every 428 years. $70 per event is closer to back-of-the-envelope calcs I have done in the past.
Great story Jack. Keep up the good work
At the risk of further swelling your well-swollen head, Jack – it’s another great story; well prefaced and well written. Even though it seemed we knew what was going to happen to Goran, it was great riding with you for a sentence or two as it unfolded. Although track days have their own rewards which have to do with learning to deal with the traction balance and finesse along with a little bit of just scaring yourself, they wouldn’t be nearly as fun if we didn’t also have our own “Goran” stories which typically arise with each outing. Thanks again for stirring the memories.
I stopped participating in lapdays around the time events in my area started getting crowded, often with Goran-grade results. I wouldn’t go back under I can afford a caged car and more safety equipment, and in that case, I would probably just go play in their local wheel-to-wheel club series.
Real courage is riding shotgun in an uncaged car from this recent era of cheap fast. A novice (or even a trackday vet) can beat a quick path to the retaining wall when equipped with something on the order of a common WRX STi or C6 Z06.
One of my favorite tracks and is on my bucket list to get to, but first is Road America (it’s closer anyway) and maybe Blackhawk Farms but only because it is closer as well.
Finishing the race should be a student’s main concern. Learning proper line and speed in & out of turns should be secondary to keeping it on the track and in the race (when possible) when things get hairy. And they will.
This is why my wife doesn’t want me to track my Z. My brother claims its perfectly safe, he took his ‘Vette around Sebring and Homestead – the only damage: brake fluid and the entire transmission (automatic? duh!). According to my brother driving at 8/10ths is good enough to get your heart rate up, but not to kill the car (or you). He has the helmet, so the question is do I have the balls? I feel the safest course of action is a Skip Barber or similar lesson first. I have already logged countless virtual hours behind the wheel in GT5 were sadly me and the reset button have gotten to be good friends.
Track days are perfectly safe if you can keep from overestimating your or your car’s abilities. Skip barber schools are great, but a HPDE weekend is 1/10th the cost.
I’d look into the different organizations that use the track and find one with a good rep for safety. You’ll be driving with an instructor your first several events, so there is that safety net of someone who knows the track, technique and something about driving cars fast.
I did my first track weekend last year with TrackDaze (Mid-Atlantic tracks mainly) and they were very safety focused. It’s not just track time, but classroom sessions too. I was signed off for solo on my last 2 runs of the weekend.
Out of 8 runs the first 2 were spent on line and safety, the next 2 on car control and being off line, the first 2 of the second day on getting faster, and then the solos. I had the advantage of several years of autocross with my car so I had a higher level of car-control skill/knowledge than most of the new people, but it was still a great learning experience.
You’ll get a feel for your braking points the first couple laps, and as the car gets hotter if you pay attention you’ll learn to feel brake fade coming on, tires getting greasy, etc. and slow yourself down accordingly.
Now, going to the track I do reccommend a couple things:
-Tires. If you’re not already on summer rubber, you should be. I assume you are being in FL. Not to sticky though, but max performace tires are alot of fun on track while not being to sticky that they mask driving error like R-comps can.
-Brake fluid. You need some high temp fluid like ATE SuperBlu, or else in a heavy car like the Z you will boil the fluid, have no brakes, and crash and die. Especially in a brake intensive course like Sebring.
-Brake pads. Something like Hawk HP+ or Stoptech Street Performance are cheap enough and adequate for a beginner. You may start to have to pit early in your later afternoon sessions though due to heat starting to overpower them. I did and that’s why I’m moving to a track pad this year.
Good luck and convince your wife.
Thanks for the info. And yeah summer tires here in FL. My brother got his track days as part of ‘Vette owners group. I’ve already seen where the local Z group books days down in Homestead which is only 60 miles away for me. My parents live 20 miles outside Sebring (close enough to HEAR when something is going on up there) so I’m lucky in that regard. Getting the wife onboard… well that’s 50/50 – some days she loves the idea of driving the Z hard & fast, other days she thinks I’m crazy to even drive to the end of block for fear of something bad happening. In general she supports the idea, mainly because she knows how much of a “racing” guy I am (big F1 and IRL fan, been to several races).
This one screams out to me. I’ve had remarkably similar experiences teaching people how to ride horses in college. In fact, I’d hazard a guess that riding and skiing are probably the only two sports as open to the same “one and done” phenomenon as track driving.
6 foot plus 30-something “athletic” gentleman with mild childhood experience and too much horse (bought to upstage his equestrian wife and kid). He watches me jump and ride (not giving a lesson) and assumes this is going to be easy, not realizing just how difficult it really is to get your weight “low” without bending over, the years of conditioning required for the sport and how little (almost none) hand input goes into it. I mistakenly suggested that at his height he should start really slow when jumping, at notably fewer inches than his 12 year old daughter was just managing. 10 minutes later he’s rolling on the ground with a caved in collar bone and a ruined face. He never came back, but his wife was hot enough that it didn’t bother me too much.
Years ago I participated in the BMW track schools with a 2002. Usually I was the oldest and slowest car on the track. At each and every event someone would stuff a newer car into a wall. At Road America when there was still the “kink” a guy turned in too early and made his M3 about 3 inches narrower, his helmet actually hit the concrete giving him a mild concussion. The next day after it had rained a guy slid his track 911 off in the carousel on the inside, the concrete edge ripping off the bottom of his engine, it was a mess. At Heartland Park Topeka a brand new M Coupe driver ignored the passing rule and tried to take the inside line in a corner, when the overtaken driver turned in (not expecting a pass) the M coupe driver lifted and hit the inside wall at about 50 mph, totaled. As for insurance, supposedly since these are non-timed events and schools for driving improvement they will cover a loss but drop you immediately or severely raise you to high risk.
“he regaled me with tales of “stage 3 boost” and 150-mph freeway antics.”
haha
“I’d just crash again.”
Smart.
That’s why, back when I had reflexes and money, I stayed with the 1/4 mile crowd.
Jack: how terrible an idea would it be to put a 1964 Falcon on a track?
Not interested in being fast, so much as driving that car to the limits of its tires and suspension.
The cognoscenti rightly point out that it’s all too easy to have too much car for too cheap, and that a lesser vehicle is the better learning tool. Hard to get much “lesser”.
The front suspension and brakes are upgraded to the point where it doesn’t fall all over itself on a back road, but it’s rocking crappy tires and soft rear leaves.
I suppose the lap belts and bench seat might not pass safety, though.
This can’t be much worse than older machines which are enlisted into “vintage racing”, but recognize that even a couple of laps are going to demonstrate many of the problems inherent in this chassis and attendant hardware. Expect to eat wheel bearings and brakes while exploring whether or not the engine can keep the oil supply near the oil pickup in spirited cornering. Although getting a ’63 Falcon into fighting trim can take some effort, a recent track day I attended included a ’65 Fairlane which had been tricked out for track days (including a fuel cell and full cage) and he was FAST!
Falcon has not a piece of high strength steel in it.
Impact it, or roll it, at speed and learn what it is like to take a ride in a trash compactor.
Maybe start with autocross? I’d be pretty afraid of a higher-speed crash in a 1964, but I’ve seen big old boats out running autocross before and it looked really fun.
There’s a guy with my local club who runs a mostly stock Corvair and it’s hilarious to watch it go round.
I’ve worked with a few people like this over the years.
And they always crater. These are the guys who do stuff like bringing down AIG and Barings Bank.
…What’s that old saw about this type? -If you’re not at least a little bit scared, you’re probably stupid.
.
Good story, Jack. Thanks.
Great read, Jack. Ahhh, the hubris…
I recall one of Jay Leno’s lines – something along the lines of “every guy thinks he can make love like a pro and race a car, until he sees someone better doing it”
I ride sportbikes as my daily drivers. I have many friends who egg me on to go on a trackday. I always politely turn them down, because I know my limitations, and would prefer not to have my prized classic Ducati binned into a tire wall. I’m realistic about my skill level after riding for 10 years and have no delusions of motorsports grandeur to cloud my judgement. The same applies to “spirited” backroad blasts. I keep things sane and with a wide margin of safety. I’ve seen too many people get off and get killed hooning around on public roads.
Largest hooning accident on record? Costa Concordia of course!
As Harry Callaghan might have said: “Man’s gotta know his limitations and Captain Schitto did not.”
I just had a teacher suggest those books to me.
I really do need to pick some of them up!