Grassroots Racing: AutoX with MSNE
It takes a special kind of motivation to be up and on the road hours before the birds start chirping - by choice. My dog didn't even stir when I made breakfast and stepped outside to sip my coffee under the dusty, charcoal, transparent sky. Stars dotted the darkness through the yellow and orange trees, still apparent in their colors, even in the heavy darkness. The blinking strobes of air traffic floated by above. It was cold; a stark reminder that summer tire season was winding down, and events like this day's were dwindling.
Autocross is something I'd never checked out before, and in this magical summer of my automotive re-awakening, I found it fitting to close my season with a grassroots Motorsports Northeast (MSNE) AutoX event with my buddies from Machinelush. Metlife stadium parking lot was the venue, and as my BRZ grumbled to life, I thought about the last time I was at Metlife: Sir Paul was playing a show. At that time, I didn't even own a car; little did I know that my walking path to the concert would become a mini road course some seven years later.
I shivered as my BRZ warmed up; a good reminder to take it easy on my hard-as-a-rock summer tires, something I hadn't even thought to consider when this year began. The green eyes watching me from across the street turned as I flipped my headlights on, and I watched a racoon butt waddle off into the forest. I pushed in the clutch and rolled out of my driveway into the leaf-covered street.
The sun kissed the tops of the trees and the low-lying clouds as it rose over the eastern mountains. Eventually clearing all obstructions, orange brilliance pierced between the trees as I drove, flashing like a strobe the faster I went. After an hour of driving, I found the lot with the cones and the cool cars, and nestled my BRZ in with the familiar ones.
At the driver's meeting, the sun was still low enough in the sky that I could see everyone's breath. The drivers were reminded that their tires were also cold, among other things, but for the shooters, there weren't many rules: wear a vest and stay off the hot track. Easy enough; we walked the course together with some of the more seasoned wheelmen guiding the first-timers, talking and walking through each corner and getting a very rough feel for the line the drivers would all be taking, picking up any sharp debris along the way.
With everyone clearing inspection and the course adjusted to fit conditions, everyone was divided into heats and sent off to rage. I was able to adjust my position as necessary to find the angles that seemed to work, and in the process, watched the drivers adjust to the course. There was a gap between each run, but the organizers kept it moving and there were two or three cars on course at any given time. With penalties for knocking over cones or going off course, each driver generally kept it rather tame on the first run as they got familiar with the course setup, and warmed up the tires.
After that, all bets were off. A few of the veteran drivers were pushing it hard. You could hear the car's suspension rocking, you could smell the straining brakes. Tire smoke and whiffs of high-test gas were always close by, as car after car groaned by against the stress. As a spectator, even safely on the sidelines, one is rarely afforded the opportunity to watching real-deal racing action from this proximity.
Jon Chin gave me a warm-up lap ridealong in his modified Toyota 86, and I got a look at the course at quarter-speed. There were many things to note, but what struck me the most were the elevation changes. I had previously noticed cars getting upset around certain corners; a bump or dip at the limit of traction usually means a loss of traction, and adjusting your line for these was paramount to a fast lap. They were difficult to spot in the tough glare of the late-fall low sun; the entire parking lot became a big mirror for the sun. Jon and I talked through each corner, reading the story in the cones.
Many drivers lost it and went around during the course of the day, exploring the edges of what was possible with their machines, but due to the environment and the MSNE guidance, everything was well within safe limits. I admired such a situation; a low cost, low speed (relative to a full-up track, don't get it twisted, some of these cats were haulin'), low risk arena to safely find you and your car's limits. In order to find those limits, you've got to push beyond them, and these parking lots are the proving grounds.
I'm sure this has all been written before, I'm sure this ground has been beaten to death. But that doesn't make this kind of thing any less significant or less important to automotive motorsports. And the joy it brings can not be discounted. This is therapy. It's you and the cones, tearing around a huge parking lot at the top of 2nd gear in your car, trying to beat your best time. And you don't need a full-up racetrack, sponsors, a team and trust fund to do it. The line you choose, the flick at the apex, the balance of throttle and slip angle for maximum exit speed -- this is racing, baby.
Thanks to Motorsports Northeast for being great hosts, and Machinelush for letting me tag along.
~ Nicholas Pascarella // @nicksglasseye
Photos: Nicholas Pascarella
