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09-28-2008, 10:46 AM | #23 |
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are you taking some sort of performance driving school? i didn't buy track insurance but i doubt you'll really need it. mine was pretty structured and idiot proof. i really wouldn't worry too much about anything...if you are taking a performance driving school, your instructors will guide you through very well and your car will do the rest. our cars are so easy to handle at full speed that its almost like playing xbox. i was a little nervous at first too, but your first time around the track all your nerves will vanish and turn to unbridled adrenaline.
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10-21-2008, 09:37 PM | #25 |
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Stunning pictures....I just can't wait to do the same!!
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10-21-2008, 09:58 PM | #26 | |
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Quote:
LOL!!! x2 nice write.
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10-21-2008, 10:19 PM | #27 |
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Nice action shots! Thanks for sharing.
I can't wait to take the M3 to the track. After a couple of years of using my nose-heavy understeering RS4 as a track car, it's going to feel good to be back in a balanced rwd car again!
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past: A4, S4, X5 4.8is, SLK55, E60 M5, RS4, ML63, E92 M3, Q5, Touareg TDI, Escalade, SQ5, RS7, Velar FE, Q7 |
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10-22-2008, 10:33 PM | #30 |
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Great pictures and write-up. I can't wait to get this puppy broken in and onto the track.
I'm curious, do you have a clear bra? I noticed that you didn't tape up the front at all.
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10-22-2008, 11:24 PM | #31 |
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10-22-2008, 11:38 PM | #32 |
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I love hearing these kinds of stories. I've been autocrossing off and on for 5+ years, and recently I started helping out as a PCA instructor. I always wish more people would drive their cars on the track an find out what real sports driving is all about.
Right now I run in my Porsches, but I can't wait to get the M3 on the track (it arrives next month). Have fun and be safe. And don't ruin it by focusing on winning - that's a losing game |
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10-23-2008, 06:20 AM | #33 |
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The first longer write up I actually read
Great "story" mate, I defenitly have to track mine too!!! Cheers |
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10-23-2008, 09:18 AM | #34 |
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Re: First Timer...
Great post, and the excited responses are even better, from my point of view. I've long been a proponent of track days, because from my perspective there is no better way to become a safer and more accomplished everyday driver than to participate in these schools, testing both your limits and the car's.
To try and add fuel to the fire, so to speak, I'm posting an article I was asked to write for the Boston Bimmer magazine (with added postscript), way back when we were looking for more driving school participants. (Of course, it's a different story now. The schools are wildly popular.) A Newbie at Driving School – by Bruce Augenstein So there we are, lined up against the pit wall, all 25 members of the freshman (AKA Group 4) class for this Boston Chapter High Performance Driving School, looking expectantly up and down track for our arriving instructors. We've just been through our first classroom session, so we've got the hot tip on curves fresh in our minds. Here's what I've learned: TURN IN - A point on the track where you ought to be on the outside (as opposed to inside - such as the administration building) and you must unfreeze your death grip on the wheel enough to actually turn it in the direction you wish to go, so as to get to the: APEX - Something in the middle of the curve on the inside, which you apparently must be on time for, or, if you're early or late, it must be on purpose. After hitting (really?) the APEX, you go for the: TRACK OUT - a point on the track that's sort of the antonym to TURN IN. All this in pursuit of THE LINE around the track. How come they don't just paint one on there for us, huh? A confident looking gentleman approaches, and says, "Hi. I'm Will. Are you Bruce Augenstein?" I admit it, and Will asks if he can drive the initial lap or two to show me the course, or if I want to drive. Since I've deposited my Machoman pills in one of the garages along with other extraneous stuff, I urge Will to drive, and we take the silver M3 (my pride and joy) out on track. Moving around slowly in traffic, Will keeps up a constant, informative patter about where suggested braking and turning points, apexes and track outs are, along with safety tips. I've heard these tips in the Drivers’ meeting, but it's good to hear them again. After a couple of laps, Will pulls in and it's my turn. I have been making mental notes regarding Will's comments and my observations, and I've already got it pretty well figured out how to drive this track. Meaning: NOT clockwise. I meander out on the track, and don't actually get lost. Will keeps the information and advice going in an almost constant stream, and it's invaluable, even though he must think he's dealing with some one afflicted with recent (and massive) head trauma, judging by my performance. We only get around three laps before we have to pull back in, and Will suggests I get up nearer the front of the line next time out so as to possibly get more track time. I listen hard in the next class, and by the time it's over, I'm ready to turn pro. It's simple. Watch for those cones, and don't worry too much about the other stuff. They use cones instead of a double yellow in order to mark THE LINE. I've got it now. BRAKING POINT - first cone. TURN IN - next cone. APEX - third cone, only on the other side of the track. TRACK OUT - fourth cone. I'm a little confused about what might happen on those turns that don't have marked braking points (BRAKE at TURN IN? TURN IN at APEX?), or those that have several choices for braking points, but I figure Will probably has a handle on all that, and he'll let me know. I'm confident of this because, at one point, whistling into turn three (after I'd eyeballed the braking cone and rapped the binders with perfect timing), Will suggests that I may want to brake a little harder. We then both get to determine that the 318is up ahead has an engine in perfect tune - by viewing the inside of his exhaust pipe in considerable detail, up close and personal. Sigh. OK. Maybe worrying a little about the other stuff would be a good idea, after all. The next time out by the pit wall, who should show up but my old buddy Fred. I've known Fred for years, and he's been urging me for around that long to come up and play, so he's swapped with Will for a session or two. We get out on the track, and, after the warm-up lap, I come sailing into turn one at a decent rate of knots, and begin pulling up to the left of a car out by the rail, who is signaling me to pass. Fred informs me that it would not be a good idea to pass at this point, since we can only pass out on the front straight. He uses remarkable brevity in this communication, utilizing only three words to convey the idea, the first of which is DON'T! and the last of which is PASS! I get the message immediately, I'm proud to say. Around that turn, Fred says "Maintenance Throttle", and, after consulting my Captain Video decoder ring, I feed a little more right pedal, and, COOL! We go around in a completely neutral attitude. HEY, this is neat stuff! We do a couple of laps, with Fred keeping up the same type of informative patter that Will did (with the same high value to me). Fred's line is a little different than Will's here and there, but no matter; I'm only getting acquainted with the line in the same sense that you get acquainted with the equator: If you travel a lot, you cross it from time to time. I'm pleased to say that, by all accounts, I'm crossing the line more and more often as the laps reel by. The next actual event of that session comes at turn eight, after I've gotten the speed up with successive laps. We're ripping up that hill out of turn six (aka "the bowl"), in the fat part of third gear and beginning to really haul the mail, and Fred is saying "Stay on it. Stay on it." I assume that Fred has taken an interest in the color of my glove box lid or something and has lost track of where we are. The thing is, dead ahead, there are these trees, and no road that I can actually see. I refrain from suggesting to Fred that he's lost his mind, and brake. OK. OK. I knew that there actually was a road there somewhere, but see, there were these trees. One of my sons flies F/A-18s for a living, and, in his business, when you get in a position where you're completely out of step with what's going on and have lost the ability to process inputs properly, they call that condition a "helmet fire". Happens from time to time in training, they say. OK, so I had a helmet fire. A two-alarmer. Fred suggests that it isn't a good idea to brake over that little crest, since you can get Sincerely Out of Shape by doing that if you're really cooking. Once again, he uses admirable brevity in this communication, but with the volume control set at a sufficient level for me to Get the Point. I refrain from suggesting that we're probably not really cooking at that point, since my braking has caused the kid on the ten-speed (selling lemonade to all the group four drivers through that turn) to actually over shoot me, and steam on by without a sale. OK. I made up that part about the kid on the ten-speed, but if you're an instructor, you're probably thinking that's more like a minor exaggeration than an outright lie. Other than my little exploration of "reality is merely a concept" in turn eight, though, we're beginning to get with the program. After a few more laps, Fred is really getting into it with attaboys here and there, and quick, valuable comments on how to set it up through here the next time if I've screwed up. We scoop up a car or two on the front straight nearly every lap, and I am having enough fun for a month of days like this. At one point, I am following a red M3 through turn eleven, and I determine that I am going to collect him when we get out on the front straight. Actually, it was an Avus Blue M3, but I am gazing at it through the Red Mist, and have assumed a role similar to Reggie Jackson's character in "The Naked Gun". (MUST... KILL... M3! MUST... KILL... M3!) I run wider than he has on the transition out of eleven (Hey! That was a really good track out!), and am on the floor earlier; before cutting through twelve and moving inside past the pit wall as we come out onto the front straight. I am also pulling up on the reddish blue M3, and there's not much he can do about it. YEEHAH! GOT 'IM! He waves us by as we walk up on him past the pits. I'm yelling and so is Fred. Given my mental state, it's probably a real stroke of luck that the yellow flags come out for the next lap, and I get to cool down as we meander around with me talking to myself. "No, idiot, you run it WIDE through here!" The line, which was a complete mystery at first, and started to suggest itself as a natural state as the rate of knots picked up, is now mysterious again on the cool down lap. No matter. This is about as much fun as one can have fully clothed, and I can't wait for session four. Out by the pit wall again, our Driving School chief calls us together; and reminds us (men and women) to not activate our blister packs of testosterone for this fourth, and last, session. Will's back for this last run, and now the pace lap is remarkably faster than that first one, earlier in the day. When we get the green, everybody's movin' right out, and is a bunch faster nearly everywhere. I'm talking to myself practically all the way around ("Bring it down. Add throttle. Add throttle. Here comes the apex. Full throttle. Start bringing it out.") By this time, I notice that the car is insisting that I start bringing it out, so it's unanimous. Will is still advising me a good part of the way around, but now it's not constant, which suggests either that we're getting closer to where we should be at any given point, or that he's mentally thrown up his hands. Once, I come into turn three too hot, with the Michelins complaining bitterly (in French, I presume), and I am laughing as I call myself a bad word involving body parts, while gathering it up and aiming just to the inside of the tire wall by the fence and the hill. I have no idea what Will is thinking about the complaining Michelins and the giggling driver (and don't want to know, thank you), but he yells "Punch it!" as we turn in on the transition up the hill. I do, and we sail up that hill very nicely indeed, thank you. It isn't until the next day that I figure out why you can actually punch it at that point, but hey, punching it is fun. No questions asked. We collect a bunch of cars that round, and get some free space for awhile, which is when I learned that even the car can suggest the line through turn two, and others as well. At the end of the last session, Will says "Awesome!" which I take to mean either that I've learned something and am doing well, or that he's never seen anyone so far off the line while simultaneously going so slowly. He's grinning as he says it, so I assume the positive, and I've been on the planet long enough to leave well enough alone and not ask. On the way back to Massachusetts that evening, I'm doing apexes at every opportunity. In fact, I notice that I'm doing apexes in and out of the family room from the kitchen when I get home. Since that school (and the subsequent ones), I find that I'm now mostly a two-hands-on-the-wheel kind of guy out on the road, and I'm paying a good deal more attention to what's going on around me at any given time. I guess that's the point, though, isn't it? See you at the next school. Bruce PS – Oh. The gentleman who displayed such laid-back assurance out on track was Will Turner. I’ve always been lucky. ☺ Last edited by bruce.augenstein@comcast.; 10-23-2008 at 10:14 AM.. |
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10-23-2008, 09:28 AM | #35 |
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Great read, Bruce. You had me laughing out loud in my office.
I wholeheartedly agree that HPDEs and track days make participants better drivers on the road.
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10-23-2008, 11:41 AM | #38 |
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10-24-2008, 08:43 AM | #39 |
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Uh oh. Sounds like someone else has caught the bug. Glad you're enjoying your M3. Very nice write-up. Thanks.
Only one tip for you. When you're pulling G's around turns don't fight it. Just lean into the side bolsters and let them hold you upright. Think of the car being turned over 90 degrees and you're in the seat. Lean on the edge (the side bolster) to keep from falling sideways. I hope this makes sense. Cheers.
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