The RAC Motorsports Challenge

Hi guys,

A few weeks ago, I spent a pleasant holiday ambling around the country lanes=
=20
of England in my GT-350 clone, taking my septuagenarian mother on a tour of=20
some of the more rural parts of the country. It was all really quite pleasa=
nt,=20
but I was itching for something a bit more aggressive, an opportunity to=20
really push the car to the limit. What I really wanted was some track time.

Bless the Royal Auto Club, for they were kind enough to stage an event that=20
would fit the bill perfectly. It was a two-day track event, to be held at t=
wo=20
different tracks, not altogether unlike the type of track events we routinel=
y=20
attend in the United States. The difference? The tracks themselves. For=20
they would not be running on weedy little piss-ant club tracks like Thunderh=
ill,=20
or even wanna-be major tracks like Laguna Seca. No, these guys were going f=
or=20
the big-time.

Day One: N=C3=9CRBURGRING!

Day Two: SPA!

Now, I have had the opportunity over the past ten years or so to drive many=20
of the legendary European F-1 tracks, including Imola, Monza, Hockenheim, Di=
jon=20
and Silverstone, as well as several other smaller, regional tracks. And I=20
even took a surreptitious lap of Spa (breaking through the barrier to get ou=
t=20
onto the track surface) in a Ford Transit van with nine terrified C-141=20
crewmembers hanging on for dear life.

But to drive these tracks at speed, all day, in my own car, was simply an=20
opportunity too good to pass up.

Initially, I balked because of the high entry cost (795 pounds, or roughly=20
$1400), arguing that I really couldn=E2=80=99t afford to do it. But upon fu=
rther=20
reflection, I concluded that I=E2=80=99d never have this sort of opportunity=
again, and in=20
that light, I really couldn=E2=80=99t afford NOT to do it!

And so it was with much excitement that I packed my bags, including my helme=
t=20
and video camera and roll bar mount for the first time, and on a Thursday=20
night, merrily skipped across the Atlantic, utilizing my American Airlines=20
employee pass privilege to recombine in the splendor of First Class aboard a=
777 to=20
London, where the car had been left a few weeks prior.

Arriving a few days early in order to ensure my body clock would be=20
sufficiently reset, on the Saturday, I accompanied Geoff Peters on a shakedo=
wn run in=20
his newly-locomotive Pantera, equipped with an all-aluminum 427-inch=20
Windsor-based stroker that delivers 550 hp and 550 ft/lbs of torque. Geoff=20=
wanted a=20
motor that he could lug, as opposed to rev, and to that end he had a ridicul=
ously=20
tall rear end ratio installed in the gearbox, which delivers a full 40 mph=20
per 1000 rpm in top gear (240 theoretical mph at redline, if the aerodynamic=
s=20
would allow it, which they won=E2=80=99t).=20

We sailed briskly down the A-3 (not quite a freeway, but close enough to it=20
for our purposes) and then via country lanes, arriving at Goodwood to meet u=
p=20
with some other UK De Tomaso club members there.

On the drive home, Geoff was feeling his oats, and we were cruising at a ver=
y=20
relaxed 90 mph or so (verified by GPS, since the speedometer hasn=E2=80=99t=20=
been=20
re-calibrated for the new gear ratio and reads a full 20 mph off!) At one p=
oint=20
progress was blocked by a dullard who failed to yield to faster traffic, ca
using us to slow briefly. Once he moved, down into third gear and whoosh, t=
he car=20
just went. In an instant we were at 125 mph, then shifting to 4th, then=20
relaxing back into 5th and slowing again. Later Geoff told me that he has y=
et to=20
find the courage to open the throttle more than halfway!

I can only imagine what this car will feel like once he comes to grips with=20
its prodigious power output.

The next morning, I packed my car (having done little to it other than=20
checking the oil and water) and set off for Dover, where the ferry would tak=
e me=20
across to France. I noted that the roads seemed unusually empty, even for a=
=20
Sunday morning, and my progress was rapid indeed, despite intermittent=20
rainshowers. When I got to the ferry I was absolutely astounded to see how=20=
early I was,=20
and then it dawned on my that daylight savings time had taken effect overnig=
ht=20
and I had forgotten to reset my watch, thus getting up (and arriving) an hou=
r=20
sooner than planned!

Oh well, that would give me that much more time to amble across France and=20
Germany.

The crossing was uneventful, and I rolled off the ferry at 9:00 a.m. and soo=
n=20
found myself on the French Autoroute.

Sailing along, I made a point of taking the time to look out the windows and=
=20
admire the turning leaves, and the splendid rolling countryside pockmarked=20
with ancient villages and isolated stone barns. The air was crisp, with the=
=20
smell of burning leaves from time to time. It was an absolutely flawlessly=20
beautiful fall day in France, with virtually no traffic on the Autoroute. A=
fter a=20
gas stop I continued on, confident that I would arrive at the N=C3=BCrburgri=
ng early=20
enough to take in the fine museum they have there.

BANG!

What was that? Sounded like I ran over something in the road, for there was=
=20
a very distinct sound of something hitting the inside of my right rear=20
wheelwell. And yet, the roadways are extremely clean and devoid of debris,=20=
and I=20
hadn=E2=80=99t noticed anything in front of me?

For a moment, I considered that I might have had a blowout, but I dismissed=20
this for two reasons:

1) The car was still driving just fine at 80 mph, and more importantly,

2) I don=E2=80=99t have a spare, meaning a blowout is an impossibility.

Having satisfied myself that there was nothing really wrong, I still took a=20
few exploratory side-to-side cuts at the wheel, and noted that the rear end=20
felt a bit, ah, mushy. At about the same time, the existing wocka-wocka-woc=
ka=20
noise that my rear end has always delivered (dunno what it is, but it=E2=80=
=99s been=20
doing it for 10 years) was augmented by an ever-so-slightly louder=20
wocka-wocka-wocka sound.

Uh-oh.

I eased over to the shoulder just a second too late to make an offramp, and=20
came to a stop just after crossing under an overpass, prior to the onramp. =20=
I=20
got out of the car, wandered around to the right rear corner, and saw that t=
he=20
tire was looking decidedly secondhand, especially in light of the fact that=20=
it=20
had two, three-inch diameter holes in the sidewall.

Hmm. My can of fix-a-flat is going to struggle mightily to cure that.

I remembered that last year, I=E2=80=99d picked up a nail in that tire which=
had been=20
repaired by plugging it, from the outside. I had always intended to pull th=
e=20
tire and have it patched properly with a mushroom plug from the inside, but=20
one thing kept leading to another, and it kept holding air just fine, so I s=
ort=20
of forgot about it....

And so I resigned myself to a rather more complicated drive than I had=20
originally envisioned. I hiked up to the crossing road, noted that it was t=
he=20
D-945, and that I was immediately abeam the town of Armenti=C3=A8res, and th=
en by=20
looking on my map, I was able to pinpoint my location exactly, at Sortie (Ex=
it) 8,=20
about 10 miles outside the city of Lille.

Thankfully I had a fully-charged cell phone with me. I am on George=20
Gordon-Smith=E2=80=99s all-singing, all-dancing Royal Auto Club recovery sch=
eme, so I called=20
the RAC emergency breakdown center in Lyon, and reported my predicament.

With Gaullic logic, they told me that although I had full roadside recovery=20
coverage, they couldn=E2=80=99t actually recover the car from the motorway,=20=
because it=20
is privately owned. Had I managed to roll up the onramp, they would have be=
en=20
glad to send a tow truck, but since I was on the motorway, there was nothing=
=20
they could do.

Wonderful.

They then told me to dial 112 (which is the French equivalent of our 911) an=
d=20
make arrangements there. The person there asked for my location, which I=20
duly provided, then transferred me to (somebody?) local, who was completely=20
incapable of understanding a single word of English. In my incredibly inept=
=20
French, I told him that I was on the A-25 at Sortie Huit, my pneu was kaput=20=
and I=20
needed a camion. Okay, okay, he said.

And so I waited.

And waited.

With nothing better to do, I began to phone around to various people seeking=
=20
advice on how I should deal with the not-having-a-spare-tire situation in=20
France on a Sunday. France is essentially closed on Sundays, you see.

My first call was to Claude Dubois, the former European distributor for=20
Shelby and GT-40 cars in the 60=E2=80=99s, and later the De Tomaso distribut=
or through the=20
80=E2=80=99s. He was only about 60 miles up the road in Brussels, and I tho=
ught he=20
might have some ideas. He has clients in the area who own GT-350s and he=20
thought I might be able to borrow some tires from them, but none of them wer=
e home,=20
and there were no tire shops open in the city. Ah well.

I then called Stephane Bergeron, my buddy outside Paris who is restoring his=
=20
early Pantera, and who I was scheduled to visit later in the week. I told h=
im=20
that I=E2=80=99d been waiting for over an hour for a tow truck and thought t=
hat=20
perhaps the message got garbled somehow, so I gave him my location, and aske=
d him=20
to call for me and Parlez Vous with the appropriate agency, ensuring that th=
e=20
message would get through. He wound up getting put in touch with the local=20
fire department, which then transferred him to MY local fire department, who=
then=20
transferred him to the local motorway towing service, and they said they=E2=
=80=99d=20
get right on the whole tow thing.

He called back and explained to me that not only was it going to be=20
impossible to source tires on a Sunday, but that if they were ordered on Mon=
day, it was=20
likely they wouldn=E2=80=99t be delivered until Wednesday, because Tuesday i=
s=20
November 1st, which is a holiday!

And then, depression set in....

=E2=80=9CLet me work on eet, I call you back!=E2=80=9D he said. =20

Another hour passed. I watched as several notable cars, clearly participant=
s=20
on the event I was poised to miss entirely, went whizzing past, without=20
stopping. One car did stop, a fellow who recognized me from earlier events=20=
we=E2=80=99d=20
participated on, but there was really nothing he could do, so he pressed on.

Another hour passed, Stephane called me back to find out where I was, and=20
when I told him I hadn=E2=80=99t moved an inch, he said he would take care o=
f it. A few=20
minutes later, he called me back.

=E2=80=9CI ave a friend, we have not seen each other for feefteen yeers, but=
we had=20
deener last weekend. He leeves in Lille, and will be there with you in a fe=
w=20
meenutes.=E2=80=9D

At that moment, a car materialized, not behind me, but in front of me. And=20
out stepped Paul Montmartin. Paul, as it turns out, is one of the top-ranki=
ng=20
federal law enforcement officers in France, basically equivalent to the depu=
ty=20
director of our FBI. We introduced ourselves, I explained that I=E2=80=99d=20=
been=20
there for three hours now, and he was shocked, and said he=E2=80=99d get it=20=
sorted=20
straight away. He phoned the tow company, and they told him that if there R=
EALLY was=20
a car broken down on the side of the road, the call would be coming in from=20
one of the emergency phones which are located every few miles. Because the=20
call was coming from a cell phone, they concluded it was a prank, and told h=
im=20
they would NOT send a truck!

Right. So, something else must be done. As it happens, Paul knows the home=
=20
phone number of the Chief of the CRS, the Compagnie Republicane de Securite=20=
-=20
Anti Riot Police. These aren=E2=80=99t your local town cops, these are like=
our state=20
troopers, except with big sticks and machine guns (they've since been rather=
=20
busy as you well know!) So, he calls the chief and tells him our story.

Two nanoseconds later, a CRS car appeared and two officers got out, and=20
informed us that the tow truck was proceeding in our direction with all due=20=
haste.

Okay, so things were looking up.

The CRS officers couldn=E2=80=99t have looked more different. One appeared=20=
just as=20
you might expect a CRS officer to look, with an expression that would lead y=
ou=20
to believe that the only thing that might elicit a smile would be breaking=20
somebody=E2=80=99s back. The other guy looked and acted just like Gomer Pyl=
e, and he was=20
almost peeing his pants in excitement at getting to see a Mustang up close=20
and in person!

He, also, didn=E2=80=99t speak a word of English, but I was able to figure o=
ut that=20
the Mustang is his brother=E2=80=99s very favorite car. He asked to see the=
engine and=20
was astounded at how huge it was (quatre point sept litre), and then=20
sheepishly asked if he could sit inside it for a moment. Of course! He got=
behind=20
the wheel and it was as if all his birthdays had come at once!

Soon afterwards, the tow truck arrived, and the car was winched aboard. I=20
hopped in Paul=E2=80=99s car and we followed them for about seven miles down=
the=20
motorway, taking the next exit, Sortie 8....

Wait a minute...Sortie 8? But I just spent the last four hours sitting at=20
Sortie 8, didn=E2=80=99t I?

I later looked at the map again. =20

Oh those bastards. =20

The D-945 meets the motorway from the north at Sortie 8, and continues=20
heading south at Sortie 9! So the whole time I had been telling people I wa=
s at the=20
wrong place! In fact, the tow company was located only a few hundred yards=20
from Sortie 8, and at the first two calls, they had sent a truck only to fin=
d=20
nobody there!

Grrr....

Anyway, Paul asked about the prospects of finding a matching pair of Z-rated=
=20
225/60-15 tires (any brand) and there was much shuffling of feet and=20
tooth-sucking among the garagistes. In the meantime, Stephane had phoned to=
say that=20
he had found ONE tire shop open in Paris on the Sunday, and they had exactly=
=20
two tires that would fit the bill, and did he want me to go get them and del=
iver=20
them to me that night?

Wow. That is not a trivial matter, for the distances involved are great. =20
But seeing no other option, that became the plan. Stephane would fetch the=20
tires and deliver them, and in the meantime Paul (who is not a car guy, and=20=
who of=20
course I=E2=80=99d never met) would take care of me, getting me set up and b=
ringing=20
me back out to my car in the morning.

Amazing....

So with the car locked up and Stephane launched on his mission, Paul took me=
=20
to his house, introduced me to his family, and then (due to a lack of space=20=
in=20
his home) took me to a super-cheap but perfectly adequate Comfort Inn where=20=
I=20
got a room for the night. He then asked me if I=E2=80=99d ever been to Lill=
e, and=20
when I told him I hadn=E2=80=99t, he took me on an hour-long windshield tour=
of the=20
city, culminating with another hour spent sitting at a sidewalk caf=C3=A9 on=
a lovely=20
town square, relaxing and getting to know one another, and also discussing t=
he=20
rapidly escalating situation with the Muslim rioters in the ghettos.

Then it was back to his house, where Stephane finally arrived with the tires=
=20
(Bridgestone Europa or something like that, W-speed rated, and made in=20
Poland), his whole journey taking some five hours (!) due to problems on the=
motorway=20
both going into and out of Paris. We then went for a splendid dinner in the=
=20
most noteworthy restaurant in Lille, where I passed on the mussels (for whic=
h=20
they are particularly known) in favor of a superlative Confit de Canard avec=
=20
frites.

The next morning, Paul picked me up and delivered me back to the garage,=20
where a young technician set to mounting them on the wheels (I wanted to hav=
e a=20
matched pair since I wasn=E2=80=99t able to get the same style of tire that=20=
I had=20
originally). I noticed a couple of rally cars on trailers, and learned that=
he was=20
a well-known local rally driver, so after the car was fixed, I offered to ta=
ke=20
him for a quick ride in it. He=E2=80=99d never been in a Mustang of course=20=
(and also=20
spoke not a word of English), so I grasped at my limited French to try to=20
describe its driving characteristics, then abruptly pulled over, pointed at=20=
him=20
and back at me, and said =E2=80=9Cshan-jay=E2=80=9D (chang=C3=A9, literally=20=
=E2=80=98change=E2=80=99), and leapt=20
out of the driver=E2=80=99s seat. He took the wheel and gunned it all the w=
ay back to=20
the garage with a monster grin on his face. :>)

So, by 10:30 a.m., the car was fixed, and after a heartfelt thanks to Paul,=20=
I=20
was on my way. (In fact he insisted on leading me all the way through Lille=
=20
even though I was more than capable of finding my way, just to make sure I=20
wouldn=E2=80=99t get lost). =20

The event at the N=C3=BCrburgring had already been underway for a half hour,=
and=20
it was in a whole =E2=80=98nother country, so I put my foot in it to try to=20=
get there=20
as quickly as possible; Paul told me that if I had any troubles with the Fre=
nch=20
police (CRS or otherwise), to just give him a call and he=E2=80=99d call the=
ir=20
boss=E2=80=99s boss=E2=80=99s boss and I=E2=80=99d soon be on my way again!

Still, much of the route in Germany was on extremely beautiful but poorly=20
maintained two-lane roads, where speed was simply impossible to attain, and=20=
thus=20
I didn=E2=80=99t actually get to the track until 1:00 p.m., leaving but thre=
e hours to=20
play. Still, that I was there at all was a miracle!

After signing in and undergoing a rigid technical inspection (consisting of=20
verifying that the turn signals and brake lights worked), I unloaded the car=
to=20
prepare for taking to the track. This was the very first time that I had=20
actually fully unloaded the car since I brought it over here a year and a ha=
lf=20
ago, and it was simply astounding how much stuff I=E2=80=99ve been carting a=
round! The=20
pile of bags and boxes and tools was humongous. In fact, I had spare=20
everythings--belts, hoses, brake pads, distributor cap, rotor, wires, plugs,=
an=20
alternator, starter solenoid, and on and on---spare everything except a bloo=
dy tire!=20
(And now I had a spare tire, for I kept the good one that had been taken of=
f=20
the rear earlier in the day).

Finally, I was ready to explore the most legendary race track in the world.

Described as =E2=80=9CThe world=E2=80=99s greatest 14 miles=E2=80=9D, all of=
the superlatives that=20
are thrown at the Nordschleife (literally translated as the North Ribbon, or=
=20
Curve) are entirely justified. Constructed from 1925-27 using both local an=
d=20
federal government money, the full circuit measured an incredible 28.265 km,=
=20
with the Nordschleife portion being 22.81 km (the Sudschleife has been almos=
t=20
entirely covered up by the current GP circuit). =20

Dominated by N=C3=BCrburg Castle high on the hill in the center of the cours=
e, and=20
with three villages entirely contained within it, the track is without a=20
doubt the most challenging circuit ever built. It was legendary for both=20
rewarding and punishing bravery, and some of the best drivers in the world e=
arned=20
their reputations by achieving greatness at the =E2=80=98Ring, including Fan=
gio.

But as cars got faster, the track=E2=80=99s distinct lack of safety became m=
ore and=20
more obvious, and after Nikki Lauda=E2=80=99s horrific crash, professional r=
acing=20
finally moved away from it. But rather than letting it go to waste, it was=20=
turned=20
into a private playground, where anybody could purchase laps and drive (or=20
ride) as fast as they want. Currently the price is 15 Euros per lap, and th=
e=20
track suffers an average of one fatality each week.

The Nordschleife is used as a proving grounds by all the major auto=20
manufacturers (and in fact there is an industrial park filled with buildings=
flying=20
BMW, Porsche, Ford, GM, Toyota etc. flags) because it is so representative o=
f=20
real-world driving conditions.

Jackie Stewart described the =E2=80=98Ring as =E2=80=9C...the ultimate drive=
r challenge. =20
There was nothing else in the history of motor racing that came close to the=
=20
N=C3=BCrburgring.=E2=80=9D Featuring elevation changes of some 1500 vertica=
l feet, and some=20
174 (!) corners, it is not a track that can be figured out quickly, or easil=
y. =20
Too, the track is filled with many blind crests, off-camber corners, suddenl=
y=20
appearing decreasing corners, and sometimes all three at once! And finally,=
=20
there are at least two jumps, one of them significant enough that even at ro=
ad=20
car speeds the car will leave the ground.

With a great sense of excitement, I hooked up and turned on my video camera,=
=20
only to have it tell me =E2=80=9CBattery dead=E2=80=9D and then Pfft. Done.

AAAGGGHHH!!! I had plugged the charger in before going to bed the night I=20
left my house, and apparently I plugged it into a switched outlet, which of=20
course depowered when I turned the light off! So here I was, the opportunit=
y of a=20
lifetime, all the necessary hardware to record it for posterity, and the onl=
y=20
battery I had was stone dead.

I was borderline suicidal. But then I consoled myself by saying that I have=
=20
other people=E2=80=99s in-car videos of the N=C3=BCrburgring, and if I wante=
d to relive the=20
memory I could just play those--in slow-motion!

With that, I tentatively set out. Amazingly, there were only 36 (!) cars=20
signed up for the event, and by the time I rolled out onto the track, severa=
l=20
drivers had had their fill and had pushed off for the hotel bar, and others=20=
were=20
taking a break in the paddock, so at any given time there were probably only=
a=20
dozen or so cars on the 14-mile track, meaning it was perfectly likely to=20
perform lap after lap without actually seeing another car!

I didn=E2=80=99t feel like I had the luxury of driving especially slowly sin=
ce I only=20
had two hours of track time, so I began driving at 7/10ths, getting caught=20
out only once on the first lap by a completely blind and extremely sharp=20
left-hand corner that appeared at the end of a sequence of faster=20
corners=1F--fortunately I was purposely going slowly enough that I had plent=
y of room for error. =20
Too, I always adopt the philosophy that while everybody else=E2=80=99s track=
might be=20
40 feet wide, mine is only 30 feet wide--I make a point of never driving nea=
r=20
the track edge, so that if (or rather, when) I do goof up, I don=E2=80=99t f=
ind myself=20
cutting through the grass, or worse yet, smacking the Armco.

As I found my away around my first lap, I noted that there was graffiti=20
sprayed on the Armco in many places--memorials to those who had died there m=
ost=20
recently. One person had even been kind enough to write the word CARE in bi=
g=20
block letters right on the surface of the track at a particularly lethal bli=
nd=20
decreasing radius corner; unfortunately that person wrote it at a point so l=
ate=20
in turn that if you needed the advice, it was too late to receive it!

After two laps (which took just under 30 minutes) I pulled in, where an=20
instructor was available to coach me. By this time I had picked up some spe=
ed, and=20
in general he seemed pleased, although he had some excellent constructive=20
criticism to offer regarding a few specific points on the track.

I drained a full tank of gas, zipped outside the circuit to fill up, then=20
came back and took to the track again. To my considerable surprise, I found=
=20
myself catching and passing cars which should have been at least as fast, if=
not=20
faster than mine. I also yielded to an extremely well-driven Mitsubishi Evo=
=20
which clearly had far more potential than my car, not to mention the advanta=
ge=20
of four hours of practice!

It=E2=80=99s pointless to try to describe an entire lap; there is just too m=
uch. =20
What stands out in my mind is how fast much of the course is; it is possible=
to=20
string together long series of corners well up into 4th gear, although a fai=
r=20
amount of the track is taken in 3rd gear, with a few spots in 2nd.

One of my favorite sections of the track is Fuchr=C3=B6hre, or Fox Pipe. Du=
ring=20
the track=E2=80=99s construction, a fox was disturbed and hid in a pipe, hen=
ce the=20
name, but the section itself is somewhat like a pipe, in that it is a=20
claustrophobic, flat-out, steeply downhill plunge through a series of right=20=
and left bends=20
into a suspension-compacting dip. Initially I was taking it in third gear,=20
but as I gained confidence I was able to plant my foot to the floorboard in=20
fourth gear and keep it there, zooming downhill at well over 100 mph. =20

There was one somewhat frightening aspect of this section. The last bit of=20
the downhill section has a gentle left-hand bend. My car has quick-ratio=20
steering but still using an original-style worm-and-sector box, which has a=20=
fair=20
amount of play on-center (this is my third steering box, and they=E2=80=99ve=
all been=20
the same). Once the steering is loaded up, its wonderfully responsive (alth=
ough=20
very heavy due to the quick ratio). Anyway, in this particular section, the=
=20
car would just be easing to the left when the left front tire would hit a=20
bump. The steering would deflect to the left, through the dead spot, and th=
e car=20
would suddenly lurch to the left with no corresponding movement of the wheel=
,=20
and exit the corner right in the center of the track, instead of towards the=
=20
right edge where I wanted it to be. A touch of right steering lock would th=
en=20
ease the car over into the proper position as the suspension bottomed out on=
=20
the dip, and then hard on the brakes and a snappy heel-toe downshift into th=
ird=20
for the subsequent left-hand corner.

Initially I thought this was the rear tires giving way, but later I figured=20
out that it was just the nature of the car=E2=80=99s steering system, and by=
moving=20
over and failing to touch the apex properly, I was able to avoid the bump an=
d=20
more or less maintain control of the car, although my cornering speed had to=
be=20
reduced.

I only had one dramatic Moment on the track. There are two corners that=20
appear virtually identical. Both are at the bottom of steep downhill sectio=
ns,=20
and are sharp, 2nd gear left turns with formidable concrete walls painted in=
=20
alternating ribbons of red, white and whatever crashed there last.

The first one, called Wehrseifen, has as its entry a pair of fast, blind=20
sweeping right-hand corners; at the entry to the second corner, a stab of th=
e=20
brakes and a downshift is necessary, as at the (blind) exit, you are present=
ed=20
with a sharp, slow left-hand corner, that then goes uphill to a sharp right-=
hand=20
bend.

The second one, called Briedscheid (also known as Adenau Bridge) has as its=20
entry a pair of fast, blind sweeping right-hand corners; they are both taken=
=20
flat-out in third gear, and at the exit of the second one, a braking zone ex=
ists=20
where you can stand on the brakes and heel-toe down into second gear, where=20
you are then presented with a sharp, slow left-hand corner, that then crosse=
s a=20
bridge and goes uphill to a sharp right-hand bend.

So, after many laps where I had mastered both of these sections (and this=20
caused no small amount of pride on my part), I suddenly found myself perform=
ing a=20
textbook entry into Briedscheid--except that I was at Wehrseifen.

So there I was, foot flat to the floor in third gear, accelerating through=20
perhaps 80 mph, in a beautiful four-wheel slide, and just as the front tires=
=20
touched the apex of the right-hand corner and the exit became visible, I rea=
lized=20
that I was supposed to be second gear, having already accomplished a fair bi=
t=20
of deceleration way back at the entrance of the corner.

Oh dear.

I instantly pounced on the brakes, which caused all four wheels to lock and=20
the car rotated about 20 degrees to the right in a skid. Heel-toe down into=
=20
2nd gear, ease off the brake but not quite fully, hard on the gas and turn i=
n to=20
the left, and although I had missed the apex for the left corner by a mile,=20
the car slid around the corner and shot up the hill, still a fair distance a=
way=20
from the track=E2=80=99s edge.

Amazing. I have no idea where that came from, but it was a perfectly=20
executed rally-style fishtail turn, something I=E2=80=99ve never done before=
and in fact=20
never even thought about. Although it was a colossal screw-up that led to i=
t, I=20
found myself thinking that if there had been any spectators there, it would=20
have been a thing of beauty to watch.

I then made a mental note to remind myself that the faster of the two turns=20
is the second one, and not to make that mistake again!

There was another corner, Pflangzarten, that was dramatic for two=20
reasons--there were several dozen spectators watching at the fence (people t=
ravel to the=20
track just to watch whoever happens to be on it, and several areas are easil=
y=20
accessed from the village of N=C3=BCrburg below), and the location was spect=
acular=20
because there was a long third-gear swishy straight that ended with a jump=20
ramp, followed immediately by a second-gear right-hand uphill corner.

I was somewhat concerned at the prospects of getting my car physically=20
airborne, as the oil pan is very low and the suspension bottoms easily at th=
e rear. =20
But the nature of the landing zone is quite gentle, as the road gently falls=
=20
away from the car even as the car itself is falling, leading to a very gentl=
e=20
landing.

Initially, I was braking and downshifting prior to the jump, which felt very=
=20
slow as I could have easily carried more speed through the corner. Then on=20
one lap, I decided to try something. I kept my foot planted in third gear u=
p to=20
and through the jump, then as the car left the ground, I executed a snappy=20
downshift while braking, and released the clutch just after the tires touche=
d=20
down, making for an absolutely perfect landing/braking/turn-in/zoom away. I=
=20
thought smugly that the spectators must have been incredibly impressed.

So it should go without saying that on the very next lap I made a complete=20
dog=E2=80=99s breakfast of it. The car got airborne, I laid into the brakes=
,=20
downshifted, released the clutch--and the car was still airborne. With no e=
arth to turn=20
the rear tires, and the brakes on, when I released the clutch the motor died=
=20
instantly. And then I landed, still on the brakes.

The tires locked up with a screech, the rear end started hopping as the moto=
r=20
tried to bump-start itself, and I feathered the clutch with the left foot=20
while trying to modulate the brakes with the right foot. All thought of mak=
ing=20
the corner perfect went out the window as I struggled to just get things=20
properly gathered up again. The motor fired, I turned in miles from the ape=
x and=20
limped up the hill, suitably chastised.

I lost track of how many laps I turned, but it was not nearly enough, not by=
=20
a long shot. I was on the track for about two hours, minus a few minutes as=
I=20
had to go buy and burn another tank of gas! With familiarity my lap times=20
came down substantially; one of my passengers was turning laps in the 13-min=
ute=20
range in his Alfa Romeo, and reported that my lap with him was sub-10 minute=
s.=20
For comparison, professional drivers in the latest Porsche 911 turn times=20
just over 8 minutes.

During one lap, I found myself suddenly overwhelmed at the magnitude of what=
=20
I was experiencing. I had just rocketed through the Karussell, the legendar=
y=20
cement-paved bowl-shaped hairpin which is the signature corner of the track,=
=20
and was zooming up towards Hohe Acht, when I was suddenly struck with the id=
ea=20
that I was literally treading on hallowed ground, following in the footsteps=
,=20
or rather, the tire tracks, of the greatest drivers the world has ever known=
,=20
people like Nuvolari, Fangio, Moss, Hill, Ickx.... Even though I hadn=E2=80=
=99t slowed=20
down at all, I was in a groove and the car was practically driving itself as=
=20
I literally took a moment to look up at the trees overhead and imagine them=20
having exactly the same view while behind the wheel of a fearsome Auto Union=
,=20
Alfa Romeo, Aston Martin or Ferrari...it was a very special and oddly quiet=20
moment, over almost as soon as it started, and yet one of the most significa=
nt me
mories I will carry of this place.

Exiting the final corner and bombing down the long straight, the car slowly=20
accelerated and then, sadly, ran out of puff at only about 5400 rpm. It sou=
nds=20
the business, but doesn=E2=80=99t have the power to back it up, so I would m=
ax out at=20
an indicated 120 mph and just drive on forever. I was later told that the=20
fastest car clocked (on radar) was a Porsche GT3 at 188 mph (but he was gone=
by=20
the time I started driving), and an AMG Mercedes CLK55 at a software-limited=
=20
155 mph. Significantly, that car was being piloted by a gentleman in a=20
wheelchair, with hand controls!

Oddly, many of the participants had their fill of the place and had pushed=20
on, which meant that although there were some very interesting cars entered=20=
in=20
the event (the earliest being a 1952 Jaguar XK120), relatively few of them w=
ere=20
running by the time I got started. And assuredly, I was the only car left o=
n=20
the track when they called =E2=80=98time=E2=80=99. In fact, I glanced at my=
watch and had=20
figured that they would probably want to shut the track, but was determined=20=
to=20
try to =E2=80=98not see=E2=80=99 the flagger and get in one extra lap. Howe=
ver, they=20
obviously had my number, because as I roared down the straight, three marsha=
ls were=20
standing in the center of the track waving red flags at me. Rather hard to=20
miss, that.

You might wonder about the enormous complexity of marshaling a circuit as=20
large as this. The organizers solved the situation by doing away with it=20
entirely. Yes, we were all driving flat-out (well, I was anyway) on a 14.7=20=
mile long=20
circuit with 174 corners and not one single corner worker. There was an=20
ambulance positioned at Adenau bridge, which represents roughly halfway arou=
nd the=20
track, and conveniently allows direct access to the town of N=C3=BCrburg bel=
ow,=20
and there were a few officials, as well as a doctor, stationed at the=20
start/finish line, but other than that, the track was wholly unmanned. =20

Were somebody to have a shunt, it would have been incumbent upon the driver=20
of the following car to stop and sort things out, and summon help via cell=20
phone. This should have been cause for circumspection, but I felt I was alr=
eady=20
being cautious enough by effectively =E2=80=98narrowing=E2=80=99 the course.

As I exited the track, I noted that literally all the other participants had=
=20
already left, leaving only me and the event officials behind. (Some left in=
=20
less-than-idea circumstances; the hapless Bill Martland whose big-block=20
Corvette convertible is always breaking down, suffered a leaking radiator wh=
ich=20
drained all his coolant at speed; he was so concerned with keeping in betwee=
n the=20
fences that he never glanced at his gauges, the motor overheated and finally=
=20
blew a head gasket; and a BMW M-3 lunched a timing chain tensioner).

It took quite some time to load the car, and since I didn=E2=80=99t have the=
benefit=20
of a navigator (I believe I was the only person who didn=E2=80=99t have a co=
-driver to=20
share driving time and costs), I was daunted by the prospect of the upcoming=
=20
80-mile cross-country drive through countless villages via two-lane roads. =20=
So=20
I elected to simply travel in convoy with the officials. =20

At a gas stop, I offered the wheel to the driving instructor who had gone ou=
t=20
with me, just so he could experience what it was like to drive a car so=20
utterly foreign and antiquated. He really enjoyed himself, and was amazed a=
t the=20
torque, which to my mind, borders on nonexistent. In fact I know that in th=
e=20
grand scheme of things, my GT-350 clone is about the weakest one out there,=20
with a very mild motor, but to people weaned on itty bitty four-cylinder eng=
ines,=20
even an anemic V-8 is something muscular indeed.

Conversation in the car consisted mostly of reliving the day=E2=80=99s event=
s, to=20
include the heart-stopping moments that each of us had experienced, followed=
by a=20
traditionally late multi-course dinner that didn=E2=80=99t end until almost=20=
midnight.

Fortunately the morning=E2=80=99s schedule was quite relaxed, as we didn=E2=
=80=99t have=20
access to the Spa circuit surface until 10:00 a.m. So after a hearty breakf=
ast=20
and a short driver=E2=80=99s meeting in the hotel lobby, we drove the ten mi=
les or so=20
and soon entered the course.

There we were greeted by a German driving instructor, who took us all on a=20
track drive/walk. We piled into as few cars as possible and drove out to=20
examine significant areas of the circuit.
=0BOther than the N=C3=BCrburgring, Spa is by far the most epic circuit in t=
he=20
world. Originally comprised mostly of public roads, it was fearsomely fast=20=
and=20
mistakes usually were punished severely. Without a doubt the most famous an=
d=20
photogenic corner in all of Grand Prix racing is the first complex called Ea=
u=20
Rouge. The track plunges down a fairly steep hill, then flicks to the left=20=
into=20
a big dip, exiting in a wide, sweeping and extremely steep right-hand corner=
=20
whose exit is completely blind, and in fact the exit point is at the same ti=
me=20
the apex for the following corner, called Le Raidillon. This corner demands=
=20
ultimate commitment, for the exit leads onto an uphill straight that is abou=
t=20
3/4 mile long. There is an urge to try to take it flat-out without lifting=20=
for=20
the entry, but the result is usually running wide at the exit, spinning and=20
hitting the wall. So we were desperately urged to never even remotely consi=
der=20
it!

In fact, in the last few years bypass roads have been constructed and the=20
circuit has been fully modified in keeping with current F-1 safety regulatio=
ns,=20
so it is much more benign than when I saw it ten years ago. There is loads=20=
of=20
run-off room in the faster corners, and significantly the runoff is all pave=
d,=20
not grass, so regaining control and avoiding an intimate encounter with the=20
Armco is a distinct possibility, a refreshing change from the day before.

Soon it was time to take to the track in anger. I had charged up my video=20
camera and was all set to shoot some epic footage. However, the track was w=
et,=20
so I ventured forth cautiously. Spa is notorious for its ever-changing=20
weather (usually vacillating between bad and worse), and for frequently havi=
ng=20
distinctly different weather patterns in different areas of the track. But=20=
for=20
now, it was just entirely wet, and greasy.

Oddly, I felt immediately at ease on the N=C3=BCrburgring, which has this fe=
arsome=20
reputation, but on this track that seemed to be much, much safer, I was=20
strangely intimidated. I putted around feeling utterly lost, and routinely=20=
waved=20
=E2=80=98slower=E2=80=99 cars past as other drivers (perhaps with the benefi=
t of experience?)=20
sailed on by me. I was afraid that it would rain all day, but in fact the s=
un=20
was peering through the clouds and the track was drying as I pulled in after=
=20
about a half-hour of lapping.

In the paddock was a welcome sight--the distinctive profile of a Pantera! =20
Serge de Moor had driven his Pantera out from Brussels to come spend the day=
=20
spectating, and he wasn=E2=80=99t alone, for arriving in a spectacular =E2=
=80=9850s Bentley was=20
fellow Brusselian Claude Dubois, riding with the car=E2=80=99s owner, himsel=
f a=20
(genuine) GT-350 owner, although he=E2=80=99s an older man who isn=E2=80=99t=
keen to drive fast=20
(and in fact has been having the car converted to power steering and power=20
brakes!)

Claude is legendary in Shelby and De Tomaso circles. An accomplished=20
semi-pro racer, he raced at Le Mans eight times and was also highly competit=
ive in=20
international rallying in the =E2=80=9850s and =E2=80=9860s. He then became=
the sole European=20
distributor for Shelby, AC and GT40 cars; if you lived anywhere on the=20
continent and wanted one of those cars, you bought it through him. After Sh=
elby=20
folded his tent, he became the De Tomaso distributor and sold De Tomaso cars=
for=20
over 20 years, selling more than anybody else in the world.

Significantly for me, he had set the lap record at Spa in a Jaguar in 1958,=20
so I asked him to climb aboard and help me find my way around the circuit. =20=
He=20
cautioned me to go slowly, as he=E2=80=99s been in the hospital three times,=
and all=20
three times it was as a co-driver when his driver wrecked their car.

He spoke a spectacularly simple yet effective shorthand with his left hand.=20=
=20
As I was driving the track, he would occasionally extend his hand, about lev=
el=20
with the radio as to not block my view, but instead be very visible in my=20
peripheral vision. He would extend two or three fingers to indicate the des=
ired=20
gear for a given corner, point left or right and down to indicate the locati=
on=20
of the corner=E2=80=99s entry, apex and exit, and when he felt an upshift wa=
s=20
necessary, he would make a slapping down motion near the gearshift. And whe=
n he=20
wanted me to brake, he would frantically pump his hand up and down, palm tow=
ards=20
the ground.

Ah, brakes. I had fitted track pads before setting off on the N=C3=BCrburgr=
ing=20
and left them in place, and they are outstandingly effective. As the only c=
ar=20
so-equipped, I enjoyed a significant advantage over most other cars, able to=
=20
brake considerably later and deeper and harder, which is fun no matter how f=
ast=20
or slow you=E2=80=99re actually going.

The Clue light came on after several laps and I found that I suddenly had a=20
much greater understanding of the track, and how to make it work. I then se=
t=20
out to try to improve my performance, and once I felt I could drive around=20
quickly enough to avoid embarrassing myself, I began to offer up rides to al=
l and=20
sundry.

Around and around I went, lap after lap after lap, video camera chugging awa=
y=20
and recording it for posterity. I was amazed to experience the weather=20
patterns I=E2=80=99d read about so frequently, as suddenly small cloud forma=
tions would=20
appear and it would be raining in two or three corners, but dry elsewhere on=
the=20
track. =20

After a couple of hours, I turned the car over to the RAC mechanics for a=20
clutch adjustment and brake pad inspection; I had a fresh set of competition=
pads=20
as the ones fitted were well past half worn, but they work so well that wear=
=20
was negligible so I elected to continue using them. Back out onto the track=
,=20
and now it had dried out and the speed really came.

I made no attempt to run with the Mercedes CLK, as the car was far more=20
capable and the driver far more aggressive than I am; he used all the track=20=
and=20
then some, spinning off four or five times before the day was done, yet doin=
g no=20
damage to the car. The Mitsubishi Lancer was another rocketship that I=20
happily yielded for, although the WRX STi was poorly driven and no threat (i=
n fact I=20
had let him pass me at the N=C3=BCrburgring, then found him holding me up, a=
nd=20
struggled to re-pass him and then drove away from him).

It was a lot of fun running with the =E2=80=9872 Ferrari 365 GTC/4, although=
I was=20
disappointed that I couldn=E2=80=99t hear the V-12 over the sound of my own=20=
car. At=20
that point I had let Claude take the wheel for some lapping sessions, and so=
I=20
got to sit back and enjoy the view a bit, including concentrating on the car=
s we=20
were following.

Claude was extremely smooth, very gentle with my car, and a fair bit slower,=
=20
which is fair enough since it=E2=80=99s not his car. In general he would be=
a gear=20
higher than I was in any given corner, just sort of easing around as opposed=
to=20
literally wringing the car=E2=80=99s neck as I do. He isn=E2=80=99t used to=
power brakes in=20
a vintage car, and by the end of the day, the pedal had become rather long,=20
although there were still awesome brakes living near the bottom of the pedal=
=20
travel (I really should have changed the brake fluid as it=E2=80=99s easily=20=
three or four=20
years old, but I simply forgot to do it). With no experience in my car, he=20
simply couldn=E2=80=99t come to terms with the brakes and learn to trust the=
m, although=20
I found that they worked terrific all day long, finally started to fade ever=
=20
so slightly after an extremely spirited sprint of laps that lasted a full 45=
=20
minutes without a break.

I had no Moments on the track, although this is solely due to my=20
aforementioned track-narrowing scheme. I had the Alfa driver riding with me=
, we plunged=20
down the hill into Eau Rouge, and there discovered that since we had last be=
en=20
there on the very previous lap, a cloudburst had moved in, utterly soaked th=
e=20
(heretofore dry) track, then moved on, leaving no indication of anything=20
untoward other than the sun glinting a bit excessively on the pavement. It=20=
wasn=E2=80=99t=20
until I had reached the dip, where I normally go full throttle, that I notic=
ed=20
the available traction had been sharply reduced. Had I been fully committed=
,=20
I would have therefore gone sliding off the outside of the corner and all=20
sorts of mayhem might have ensued; as it is, I was able to feather the throt=
tle=20
and skitter through the turn, just touching the exit curbing and totally=20
off-line for Le Raidillon, but at a speed reduced enough that it didn=E2=80=
=99t matter. =20
Whew!

Other than a brief break for a Kit-Kat bar and a Coke while the mechanics=20
looked over the car, I drove Spa almost continuously from 11:00 a.m., basica=
lly=20
running a six-hour enduro by myself. I pulled in to take my last passenger=20=
at=20
ten minutes to four, and was just about to re-enter the track for the last t=
en=20
minutes when the marshals indicated that a Morgan had gone off and smacked=20
the wall, and the day was done.

In fact, the driver had pushed and pushed, going ever slightly faster, and=20
aware that the end of the day was approaching, he pushed just that little bi=
t=20
too far, spun in a corner and smacked the inside wall facing backwards, crea=
ming=20
the whole left side of the car, but apparently doing no significant=20
structural damage, and more importantly, emerging completely unhurt, althoug=
h highly=20
embarrassed.

So we packed it up and called it a day. These two days had been without a=20
doubt the best track days I have ever experienced. Spa is the best race tra=
ck=20
in the world, and the N=C3=BCrburgring is so much better than Spa that it=
=E2=80=99s in a=20
different solar system. I feel so privileged to have had the opportunity to=
=20
drive them both, in my own car, and am at the same time overcome with regret=
that=20
I didn=E2=80=99t get to spend the entire day at the =E2=80=98Ring, and while=
I=E2=80=99m at it, that=20
I didn=E2=80=99t have the power to properly complement the chassis and let m=
e really=20
go nearly as fast as I would have liked.

My motor, however, seemed to have issued a bit of a protest, suddenly=20
producing what to me sounded like an Expensive Noise. A comprehensive ticki=
ng,=20
sounding like a bad lifter, bent pushrod, or ???? Actually, it sounded like=
an=20
exhaust leak, but exhaust leaks normally only manifest themselves under=20
acceleration conditions and go away under deceleration, often leading to bac=
kfires, but=20
this wasn=E2=80=99t doing that. Still, the car was running and seemed to id=
le and=20
run fine, and the mechanics on the scene said that even though they had no i=
dea=20
what it was, they had a good idea of what it *wasn=E2=80=99t* and that they=20=
thought I=20
would be fine.

So, with fingers crossed, Serge set off in his Pantera, and I followed=20
behind, some 100 miles or so back to Brussels, where we put the cars away an=
d then I=20
set up camp at his apartment, right in the middle of the old part of the=20
city. Serge is a jeweler who manufactures custom, one-off jewelry and resto=
res an
tique pieces from his home, so I got a fascinating insight into that entire=20
process. =20

One of the greatest things about being a Pantera Guy is the opportunity to=20
meet and socialize with wonderful people from all over the world, and learn=20=
so=20
much besides simple Car Stuff. I have had so much exposure to people from a=
ll=20
walks of life, who all share this common bond yet whose backgrounds and=20
experiences are so different, and it=E2=80=99s been a fascinating journey as=
a result.

We later met up with Claude and went to dinner. There, Claude entertained u=
s=20
with all sorts of stories, including telling us about his recent heart bypas=
s=20
surgery. He said that he had been having difficulty riding his mountain bik=
e=20
in the steep mountains near his French summer home in Provence (he=E2=80=99s=
about 74=20
years old, I believe), and initial checkouts had revealed nothing, but then=20
another doctor found a life-threatening condition that might have felled him=
=20
within hours had the operation not been performed. He rather unexpectedly=20
confessed that he had been having =E2=80=98sexual problems=E2=80=99 prior to=
the surgery, but=20
=E2=80=9C...now, I have ee-rection like Turkish donkey!=E2=80=9D And, he we=
nt on to add with his=20
characteristic twinkle in his eye, =E2=80=9CEef I take a little peece of a V=
iagra=20
tablet, eet becomes DANGEROUS!=E2=80=9D

Serge and I were both laughing so hard we were crying, and even now, a week=20
later, I=E2=80=99m still chuckling....

The next day, Claude took us on a tour of the local Brussels Pantera scene.=20=
=20
We went and viewed the Candy car, the genuine factory Gr 4 race Pantera=20
formerly owned by Bill Cotter in Seattle (and Jacob Shalit in Orange County=20=
before=20
that), which has recently been purchased by Patrick Hals and brought back to=
=20
his home in Brussels. Sadly, Patrick was out of town on a holiday and I did=
n=E2=80=99t=20
get to meet him. =20

The shop it=E2=80=99s stored in is owned by Bernard de Dryver, the former Be=
lgian F-1=20
driver. Claude got him started in racing when he sold him a factory-prepare=
d=20
Group 3 Pantera in 1973. Interestingly, that car, #5001, later made its way=
=20
to the USA and was turned into a street car, and more or less run into the=20
ground. Last year it found its way to PI Motorsports, Claude found out abou=
t it,=20
and de Dryver bought it back, and it is now being restored. He will campaig=
n=20
the car next year in vintage racing events, bringing his racing career full=20
circle!

Serge had some business to attend to so Claude and I went to lunch at a=20
sandwich shop. I ordered a beef sandwich, not realizing that the beef was R=
AW. =20
Not wanting to appear like an uncultured American (which, of course, I am),=20=
I=20
gamely acted like there was nothing amiss and set to eating it; it was only=20
after I was partway done that Claude confessed that he never eats raw beef,=20=
and=20
wistfully added, =E2=80=9Cgood luck...=E2=80=9D; fortunately I suffered no i=
ll effects or=20
e-coli! And, I must admit, due to the extensive seasonings and oils it had=20=
been=20
prepared with, it was actually quite good. Would have been dynamite if it h=
ad=20
been cooked though!

Later on, we went to the exotic car showroom owned by Paul Grant; he=20
purchased the one-off De Tomaso Ghia Sport 5000 from De Tomaso last year, an=
d also has=20
another genuine Gr 4 race Pantera that is for sale. This car, sadly, has=20
suffered at the hands of a former owner, with all four fenders and the nose=20=
cut=20
off and replaced with home-made panels to let the car run in Group 5. The c=
ar=20
is hideously ugly as a result, and would need extensive work to return to it=
s=20
proper configuration.

After linking up with Serge again, I hopped in my car and set off to continu=
e=20
my travels. Even before he had completely bailed me out by ferrying a pair=20
of tires to me, I had committed to going to Stephane Bergeron=E2=80=99s hous=
e outside=20
Paris and spending several days working on his Pantera with him, but after h=
is=20
efforts on my behalf I was even more motivated to do so. Driving at night i=
n=20
occasional heavy rain, my progress was slow, and I was somewhat intimidated=20
when I came up to the French border and a couple of border guards visibly=20
frowned at the fact that my car has no number plate, and then stopped me.

=E2=80=9CYoo are American?=E2=80=9D they asked. I replied in broken French,=
which they=20
seemed to appreciate greatly. There were no other cars around, and they loo=
ked=20
this way and that, then using the universal language of pointy-talky, they a=
sked=20
me to perform a burnout as I left.

Only too happy to oblige, particularly as it was so simple due to the wet=20
pavement. I looked in the mirror to see just a tiny bit of smoke and water=20
spray, and two very happy, smiling faces at the border guard station....

After yet another hideously expensive gas stop, I rolled into Stephane=E2=
=80=99s=20
house running on fumes, and after a happy reunion with the rest of the famil=
y,=20
called it a night.

The following morning, we set to trying to find the source of my motor noise=
..=20
We pulled the plugs and the compression checked out fine. I removed the=20
valve cover, then started it up, and the noise became MUCH louder. We check=
ed=20
and adjusted all the rockers arms to determine that there wasn=E2=80=99t too=
much valve=20
lash, and nothing changed.

I shot some video and e-mailed it to various Smart Guys around the world,=20
asking for opinions. It was John Christian at Roush that came up with the=20
spot-on diagnosis, one that I would never have guessed at in a million years=
: I had=20
an exhaust leak at the intake manifold.

HUH????

Well, think about it. Ford motors have ports in the #2 and #6 exhaust ports=
=20
which duct hot exhaust gasses into a crossunder passage in the intake=20
manifold, to promote carb heating and quick warmup. Aftermarket intake mani=
folds=20
normally block this passage off. What had happened in my case was that the=20=
intake=20
gasket on the left side had let go at the bottom edge, and exhaust gases wer=
e=20
leaking INTO the engine, in the lifter valley, under the intake. The gasses=
=20
were then blowing out via the holes in the heads that the pushrods passed=20
through, into the rocker arm area.

Brilliant! Okay, so that=E2=80=99s easily enough fixed, and more importantl=
y, not=20
significant enough to worry about in the short term.

We then spent 10-12 hours a day for the next couple of days working on=20
Stephane=E2=80=99s Pantera, including pulling the cover off the bottom of hi=
s gearbox (which=20
was rebuilt by ZF in France) to ensure the ring gear bolts had been=20
safety-wired (they had), mating the clutch, engine and gearbox, then install=
ing the=20
assembly into the car to check for exhaust clearance (it didn=E2=80=99t). G=
rinding of=20
the motor mounts and the headers themselves delivered the requisite clearanc=
e,=20
and we moved on to the next project, then the next, and so on--slowly but=20
surely, getting the car closer to being on the road (he bought it in pieces=20=
seven=20
years ago and has real hopes of driving it next summer).

I was intrigued by an innovation that Stephane had cooked up in conjunction=20
with the engineers who supply the Citro=C3=ABn factory rally car team; rathe=
r than=20
stock rubber suspension bushings, or the common polyurethane replacements, h=
e=20
had ultra-exotic (and expensive) roller bearing suspension bushings made! I=
=20
question whether this is very smart, but they sure look trick!

On the last evening, another local Pantera owner who doesn=E2=80=99t speak a=
word of=20
English came over for dinner, not even arriving until after 9:00 p.m. Dinne=
r=20
was a typically epic multi-course affair and lasted until 2:00 a.m. and then=
=20
we went back down to the garage!

Truthfully, I would have liked to have stayed a few more days, as I felt=20
there was some real momentum built up, but I had other engagements in Englan=
d. So=20
bidding the family good-bye, the next morning I set off back for Calais, the=
n=20
crossed to Dover and returned to Geoff=E2=80=99s house. =20

The next day dawned gray and ugly, and I hopped in the car and sped up to th=
e=20
city of Birmingham, which is sort of the Detroit of England, the heart of th=
e=20
English motor manufacturing industry except, er, they still build cars in=20
Detroit....

I was going to the NEC, the National Events Center, England=E2=80=99s larges=
t and=20
best-known convention hall. This is the site of the annual Classic Car show=
, the=20
largest show of its type in England and one of the largest in the world. =20
Even in the heavy rain, I felt confident pressing on, and because I was a bi=
t=20
behind schedule, cruised at 90-95 mph most of the way, serene due to the fac=
t=20
that the UK uses a particularly excellent style of pavement which simply suc=
ks=20
the water in and drains it off, unlike US freeways which often collect stand=
ing=20
water and become treacherous even with a light rainfall.

At the NEC, I met up with Johnny Woods, who had wisely left his Pantera=20
behind and instead drove up in his new ride, a Nissan Sunny that he picked u=
p for=20
the princely sum of $175. It=E2=80=99s the first modern car he=E2=80=99s ev=
er owned (if you=20
can call a 20-year-old car modern) and he was really knocked out by the nove=
lty=20
of a functioning heater and defroster, fuel economy, and a radio!

The show was spectacular, featuring stands from various manufacturers and=20
clubs, including a huge effort by the Jaguar Daimler Heritage Trust. =20
Representative examples of every Jaguar made were on display, including the=20=
iconic C-=20
and D-types, as well as the very first E-type coupe (the 1961 Geneva show ca=
r),=20
and the first left-hand-drive car (the seventh E-type made). There was also=
a=20
large vendor area with restoration tools, parts and automobilia for sale.

Rod Leach, England=E2=80=99s best-known Cobra dealer, had loaned an original=
=E2=80=9866 427=20
Cobra to some outfit looking to promote themselves in some way, and I spent=20=
a=20
lot of time admiring it while Johnny harshly criticized the paint and the=20
poor preparation the car had received (he sells high-end car care products a=
nd=20
thus is very critical of people who fail to treat their cars properly).

There was a Superformance stand which had a real shock--the long-awaited and=
=20
never-before-seen Superformance GT40. This is a MK II body style, and the o=
ne=20
on display was only delivered a week earlier, the second such car produced.=20=
=20
The quality seemed top-notch although I am still aggravated that they electe=
d=20
to make it left-hand-drive with center shift, instead of the proper=20
right-hand-drive with the shifter in the right sill. The European distribut=
or, a fellow=20
from Holland, told me that customer resistance to that scheme has been so=20
great that they have re-thought their plan and will now offer the car with t=
hree=20
different chassis layouts and three different body styles: LHD, center shif=
t;=20
RHD, center shift, and RHD, right sill shift, and either Mk II, late Mk 1=20
(Gulf-style wide body), or early Mk 1 body styles. In fact, just the day be=
fore,=20
McLaren F-1 chief designer Adrian Newey had loaned his own early original=20
GT40 so that body molds could be taken from it, and the molds had been dispa=
tched=20
to the factory in South Africa.

Johnny and I must have walked 20 miles to ensure that we saw each and every=20
little thing, then saw it again, and finally left around 6:00 p.m. The show=
=20
was hideously expensive at $25, and they socked us another $12 for parking,=20=
so=20
we were determined to get our money=E2=80=99s worth!

We drove down the M-6 motorway and then peeled off into the inky darkness,=20
taking ever smaller roads until we were down to one-lane goat tracks with a=20
lightly falling rain, and eventually we pulled up to the home of George=20
Gordon-Smith. George sadly sold his Mangusta but is still keen, and in fact=
is really=20
itching to buy himself a GT-350 clone like mine. We enjoyed a nice dinner w=
ith=20
him and his wife Sue, then had a wonderful sitdown by a crackling fire and=20
all talked late into the night.

The next morning, Johnny and I set off in opposite directions, and I headed=20
back to London and prepared to return home. It has been yet another excelle=
nt=20
European driving adventure, as well as a fantastic social occasion, as I had=
=20
the good fortune to be able to meet up with friends (and make new ones) in s=
ix=20
different cities/towns in three countries.

Sadly, as the driving season draws to a close, I had to swallow a bitter=20
pill, for this was to be my car=E2=80=99s last day in Europe. After spendin=
g the last two=20
seasons domiciled in England and France, the car=E2=80=99s temporary importa=
tion=20
deadline was fast approaching, and my airline travel benefits (which enable=20=
me to=20
fly from LAX to London for $51, for example) are going to be terminated=20
shortly, not to return until I get called back to work by American Airlines,=
=20
probably sometime in 2007. And so I emptied the car of various flotsam and=20=
jetsam,=20
washed it and prepared to take it down to the Southampton docks to be loaded=
on=20
a ship bound for the USA.

The next morning, I climbed in the car one last time and set off for the=20
motorway. After the nightmare that is the M-25 ring road, I turned onto the=
M-3=20
and headed south. Traffic was flowing smoothly, the weather was cool and=20
overcast but mostly dry, and I was feeling my oats, so I stayed in the fast=20=
lane=20
with the hammer down and cruised at 90 mph or more, in the knowledge that it=
=20
would be a long time before I could again speed with a feeling of utter impu=
nity.

After many miles, up ahead a weedy-looking car pulled out of the slow lane t=
o=20
pass a lorry, and I had to slow down; I was just beginning that process when=
=20
I spotted two nasty-looking little men astride motorcycles equipped with=20
little blue lights on sticks, lurking in the bushes and eyeing me with conte=
mptuous=20
looks on their faces.

Oh great, that=E2=80=99s just what I need, to get popped by the cops on the=20=
way to=20
catch a boat (sailing that afternoon) on the car=E2=80=99s last day in Europ=
e. As I=20
slid out of view behind the lorry I booted the brakes to ensure I wouldn=E2=
=80=99t come=20
visibly shooting out the other side, then watched my mirrors attentively,=20
pleasantly surprised to see that the men on their little motorbikes decided=20=
to stay=20
put and give me a miss--whew! Others weren=E2=80=99t so lucky, as further d=
own the=20
road there were a couple of speedy looking cars (including a BMW M-3) that h=
ad=20
been pulled up and were suffering various indignities at the hands of the la=
w=20
for their gross indiscretion of driving in a straight line down an empty=20
highway at perfectly reasonable (though admittedly high) speeds.

I pulled onto the pier and dropped off the car, which was to be loaded on a=20
ship otherwise entirely filled with new Range Rovers, Land Rovers and BMW=20
Minis. As I climbed into a taxi for the ride to the train station that woul=
d=20
return me to my point of origin, I turned and took one last look at the car=20=
that=20
had served me so well, had seen so many adventures (both planned and otherwi=
se),=20
had consumed so much ludicrously expensive fuel (each fillup normally cost=20
between $65 and $75, and I normally filled the tank twice a day; I burned th=
ree=20
full tanks of gas at Spa alone!), and in general, allowed me to live out wha=
t=20
had only been a fantasy for so many years. =20

Looking back at all I have done in that car over the past two years, all the=
=20
places I=E2=80=99ve seen, things I=E2=80=99ve done, and far most importantly=
, all the friends=20
I=E2=80=99ve made, I feel so profoundly grateful that I find I am unable to=20
adequately express it in words. How lucky have I been! To get called away=20=
from my=20
civilian job to fight a war in the middle east, then to return home only to=20=
lose=20
my civilian job a few weeks later, leaving me with time on my hands, a huge=20
stack of money in the bank (considerably less huge today, I can assure you),=
and=20
most importantly, with kind-hearted and charitable friends in Europe who wer=
e=20
more than happy to extend themselves on my behalf, and not only store my car=
=20
for me, but also shuttle me back and forth to the airport, and occasionally=20
act as a go-between to smooth bumps with various bureaucratic agencies, etc.=
=20
etc. I have been able to live the life of a European aristocrat of 40 years=
ago,=20
criss-crossing the continent behind the wheel of a rare and desirable GT car=
,=20
enjoying racetracks, museums, attending classic car meetings and race events=
,=20
and socializing with like-minded people from all walks of life, from one end=
=20
of Europe to the other.

And I owe all of that to the worldwide fraternity of Pantera owners. Yes,=20
these arguably silly Italian cars that were, and are, the Rodney Dangerfield=
of=20
the exotic car world, attracted a very special kind of owner, the kind of=20
person that I have tried, over the last two years, to describe to each of yo=
u. =20

Although on one level, it could be argued that the purchase of my rustbucket=
=20
chronic restoration project Pantera (now entering its 15th year of dormancy)=
=20
was a huge mistake, in light of all the doors that it has opened and all the=
=20
opportunities it has provided for me, I couldn=E2=80=99t disagree more. For=
were it not=20
for that car, and the membership in the Pantera Owners Club of America (whic=
h=20
has members in 17 countries), and the friendships that the car seems to=20
naturally engender, none of the things I=E2=80=99ve done these past few year=
s would have=20
been possible.

I have learned a lot in the past two years, and have seen many ways that my=20
GT-350 clone could be improved to optimize it for the type of driving I=E2=
=80=99ve been=20
doing. To that end, it is currently on the way to Detroit, where it will=20
receive a new, much more powerful engine, a five-speed gearbox, and at the s=
ame=20
time have some long-overdue paint and body issues dealt with (the car is a=20
typical California car with no rust underneath, but a bit of rust is just no=
w=20
starting to appear at the base of the back window, and the car really wants=20=
to be=20
stripped to bare metal and repainted). I don=E2=80=99t know when it will ac=
tually=20
return home, but I am hoping that it is up and running in time for the summe=
r=20
driving season.

And although it will be many years before I have again achieved the type of=20
financial stability and occupational seniority that would make keeping the c=
ar=20
in Europe a feasible prospect, I find that I am totally hooked on the idea,=20
and it is my long-term ambition to utterly perfect the car for that mission,=
and=20
then perhaps in five or seven or ten years, re-export it, this time to becom=
e=20
a more or less permanent resident in Europe.

As I was faced with limited track time, I didn=E2=80=99t even bother pulling=
my=20
camera out of the bag during my two days at the N=C3=BCrburgring and Spa, so=
my=20
traditionally huge JPG photo collage is therefore much smaller than usual. =20
Nevertheless, it still provides a last look at European continental motoring=
at its=20
finest:

http://members.aol.com/mikeldrew/mot...schallenge.jpg

Now that my travels are winding down (although not entirely finished, as my=20
benefits actually run through the end of February), I will be spending more=20
time at home, attending to various responsibilities there, aggressively work=
ing=20
on my own Pantera for a change, and taking road trips in the USA, territory=20=
I=20
haven=E2=80=99t really explored for several years now.

I=E2=80=99m looking forward to it!

Mike