Another race day dawns... bright and sunny and warm.... as usual here
in South Queensland. Last week's rain seems like a distant memory as we're well
into a stretch of typical winter weather here. This is my fourth consecutive
day out to Willowbank and the car seems to be on auto-pilot today, despite all
the detours and roadwork and relocated highway exits.
No hurry to get going today.... until we all sleep in and then sit around
chatting until 11:00 am. Oops, we're late and Ken is waiting and we've still
got some work to prep the car for today's race. Thankfully, the truck and trailer
are ready, today's essentials are quickly loaded and we're off shortly after
1:00 pm -- and the gates don't open until 2 o'clock.
Despite making a couple of enroute "pit stops", I'm into the pits almost
twenty minutes ahead of the truck and trailer. When they do arrive and today's
scheduled driver, Ashley Bailey, pulls in, a small mix-up is discovered. Seems
we have two entry forms -- and only one race car. Quick solution: "Hey Bob,
you've got the Hertz-supplied Falcon right here... why not race it in Street
Eliminator?" Hey, why not? I haven't bracket raced for over twenty years (and
wasn't very good, heck, let's be honest, I was downright awful at it), but why
not give it a whirl.
Scrutineering (tech inspection) consists of filling out the entry form and
having a number shoe-polished on the passenger side windscreen. $5 for a Divisional
Drag Racing License (valid for the day only) and off I go to the staging lanes.
Oops, forgot my helmet. Back to Ken's trailer to retrieve that and then back
to the lanes. "No long sleeves?" asks the young blonde shiela at the head of
staging.... back to the trailer for my jacket. Then back to the lanes yet again.
At this point the story slows considerably, as I quickly remember what
I disliked most about bracket racing: hurry up.... and wait.... and wait....
and wait some more. Ninety minutes later I'm at the head of the lanes and preparing
for my first lap in the "rent-a-rocket". During the long wait I tried to remember
some of the key points of racing a box-stock sedan: tyre pressures up, drive
through the water in the burnout box, then spin the tyres only hard enough to
dry them off, leave at idle in drive and don't forget to turn off the air
conditioning.
Preliminaries taken care of, it's time to stage, into the rapidly setting
sun. Barely able to see the tree, I'm relieved to see the top bulb come on,
bump forward into the second one and then before I know it, sit and watch the
green light start to glow. Uh, Bob, that means it's time to go... or hadn't
you noticed your "opponent" already in motion? Despite the "rather late" start
(.713 RT), I nearly catch the Holden Ute at the finish line with a 16.44 at
85.23 mph. Not exactly "ludicrous speed" but it's only a 4-litre straight-six
four-door sedan.
Since qualifying will close in another hour, and it's going to take more
than one pass to have any idea what to dial-in at, it's straight back to the
staging lanes. (After a quick pit-stop to buy a cup of chips, a sausage roll
and a coffee). While passing the time, I tune in to the track PA on 88.0 FM
and try to review my race strategy. Yeah right, Bob. Well, I've got to work
on the reaction time if I don't want to be out in the 1st round, so I decide
to leave when the second amber goes out this time. By the way, in Australia
the sportsman tree is a three amber, .400 second light style. My second shot
comes just after 6:30 pm and the car responds to the better air (and better
driving?) with a 16.31 at 85.49 mph. And the reaction time improves -- all the
way down to .578 -- not great, but better.
Only problem is, I can't remember if I left when the second amber came
on or went out. Hmm, we'll have to think about that before the 1st round, won't
we? Highlight of this second time trail had to be the 10-second Torana in the
other lane. After a hundred foot past the starting line burnout and then another
vicious dry-hop, he finally pulled into stage. Burning me down? Hardly; I just
cranked up the stereo, kicked back and relaxed while he went through his pre-race
routine.
Back at Ken's trailer, I borrow the shoe-polish and try to pick a number
to dial-in. With no dartboard handy, I figure that since the air is getting better
and since I don't want to break-out, that 16.25 should be reasonable. After
nominating that number, I'm told that dial-ins are fixed for the evening --
no changing between rounds -- oops, that might be a problem if I go "deep" into
eliminations tonight. The first round shouldn't be a problem though, since it
should be coming up fairly soon.
10:30 pm: "First call for Street Eliminator. All Street
Eliminator cars to Lane 4". Guess which round they're calling? You got it...
FIRST round. Even with only 30 cars, this could be a long night. As I
pull out of the lanes, I'm pleased to see that I'll be matched with a car close
to my dial-in. He's at 15.98, while I'm stuck with the 16.25, picked four hours
ago. The air has dropped from 861 ft. to 221 ft. in the meantime. What the heck,
just plant the throttle and go for it. Burnouts done, we both approach the line
and then my first mistake occurs. I turn down the radio (tuned to the track
PA) so I can concentrate better on the task at hand.
Mentally flipping a coin, I decide to leave when the second amber goes
out -- don't want to risk a red-light after all -- and am "rewarded" with another
"stellar" RT (.574 this time). The bloke in the other lane regains consciousness
in time to carve an .809 light. Then I make my second mistake. Eyes focused
solely on the groove to the finish line, I fail to notice the huge advantage
I've got built up and keep my foot planted all the way through the lights. Crossing
the finish line, I reach over and turn up the radio in time to hear those fateful
words: "and he's broken out, with a 16.16 on a 16.25 dial-in." Bummer!!! I had
the race in the bag and blew it... big-time.
While all the dial-your-own racers in the audience are rolling on the
floor laughing, the only excuse I can muster is that I was running on auto-pilot.
Running a Top Alcohol car dispenses with so many of the nuances of other categories
of drag racing, and despite the complexity of building and tuning the cars,
is really much simpler in execution than bracket racing.
So now it's time for a big admission on my part. In the past, I've looked
down my noise at any class below my own... let's face it, it is partly human
nature... and partly ego... and partly stupidity. I now admit my biggest mistake:
Not being out at a drag strip at every possible opportunity, running whatever
I drove there and making lap after lap. In other words: practice, practice,
practice. For sure, it would make me a better driver than sitting in front of
a keyboard writing about it does.
Almost forgot to mention the high-point of the evening. During one of
the several oil-downs, Ken introduced me to Ray Heggie, ANDRA Steward for South
Queensland. Ray confirmed that our plan to make my Top Alcohol License passes
in Ken's A/Modified Dragster next Saturday is a "go". Good show. All I have
to do is make two full passes at the June 5 Test 'n' Tune... then a full pass
in the Top Alcohol car on the first day of the Winternats on June 11th. Too
easy, right? We'll see, won't we? Stay tuned.