Hocus Focus!

THE CONDITIONS WERE IDEAL. Here I found myself back at Calabogie Motorsports Park in June in only the second track session of the year, still in COVID-19 protocol, with an almost-new 718 GT4 shod with Michelin Sport Cup 2s, tires clinging to the asphalt like four geckos overdosing on coffee. What could be better on a warm and sunny early June morning than being back on track for a high-performance driver-education (HPDE) day in this thoroughbred sports car with a manual gearbox?!

My first stop was the sound check to verify that I wouldn’t, with the snarly, naturally aspirated flat-six, overly annoy the cottagers surrounding the track. After that I let Brad, my “coach,” start the day and refamiliarize me with the track, while riding shotgun with him during his second session in the advanced run group, composed of a rather eclectic mix of cars including high-flying track cars with high-mounted wings. After that, it was my turn, time to have him hang on for dear life as I piloted us around the track during the first intermediate session, paying special attention to corner entry and exit, around all 20 corners of Calabogie’s five-plus kilometres.

Apparently our recent Opti-Coat Pro paint-protection application must have made the GT4 more slippery and go faster, because it appeared that not much could stick to it — neither the other cars nor the black rubber bits flung up off the track. Once refamiliarized with the track, I found it was much like riding a bike, except one with four wheels and one seemingly infinitely faster, with speeds approaching 180 KPH. There were a few 911s out as well. Some drivers were faster than me and the slower ones cordially pointed me by, after which I watched them recede in my rearview mirror. I entered a rhythm: dialed-in, focused on the next corner, downshifting, braking, watching the entry, turning in, easing off or tightening the corner, getting back on the accelerator — I was flying! Then there I was already, thundering down the front straight, wind rushing by, power on, completing yet another lap. Too soon, the checkered flag signalled the end of the session and I backed off the speed to cool the car down, exiting to pit lane, perspiration running down my back. This is a sports endeavour, not an ordinary drive. In a Porsche — any Porsche — it becomes extraordinary!

Then it was time for our lunch break, so soon it seemed, so we opened up our cooler for our picnic lunch of sandwiches, cheese, fruit, sodas and, of course, some cold caffeine to stave off any thoughts of a post-prandial siesta.

As I blasted back out, I negotiated the blend line, and then down the back half of the front straight, heading downhill, along the wall, for the turn-in at corner two.

It seemed like forever before I was back out in the afternoon run groups and, apparently with the objective of spicing up the afternoon’s activities, some race-type cars showed up to join in both my intermediate and Brad’s advanced run groups. They were invited to join us to “test and tune” their cars in preparation for a weekend endurance race that was to start that same evening. I never gave it much thought, as the track protocols were in place for “point by passing” in designated passing zones for my intermediate run group, and anywhere, but the apex, for the advanced group.

As I blasted back out, I negotiated the blend line, and then down the back half of the front straight, heading downhill, along the wall, for the turn-in at corner two. I then swept over across the track to corner three on the right, negotiated a gradual left to “Easy” at turn four, and put down the power along the long, smooth and fast back straight known as “Rocky Road,” flooring it, braking hard at the end of the straight, then trail-braking down into the tight right-hand turn five, known as “Mulligan’s” — a common run-off area for better or for worse.

It was then that I noticed that I had some company. I had picked up another Porsche, probably a black 911 Carrera S. By then I was setting up for a tight corner at turn six, followed by a quick upshift to third gear, and then back on the accelerator, turning in to the left at turn seven and then flying down a short straight into turn eight, the famous (or “infamous” for some) “Temptation” carousel. Middling the lane, my visitor moving in and out of my blind spot. Moderate braking, turn-in, a short trail-brake, turn-in (double-apex technique), easing the steering, and then gradual power-on, before I was out and accelerating over the ridge for my “Cayman special line,” to my tree-top navigation mark. And there he was again, the black Porsche, darkening my rearview mirror, closing in on my bumper, barely a car length off, zigzagging! Was this NASCAR?! A second of incredulity, then reality, I had become prey.

He’s now on my bumper, headlights flashing. This isn’t the Autobahn, last time I saw a highway sign. What was this car, its driver, doing?

It was at this point that I applied many of the lessons taught during our club’s HPDE at CTMP and by the other pros at Calabogie. Not every driver is the best behaved on the track once he or she dons a helmet, despite the constant vigilance of the marshals and other track officials. It was an opportunity to, as a relatively new track driver, prove to myself how I could remain unflustered and stay focused on the task at hand.

He’s now on my bumper, headlights flashing. This isn’t the Autobahn, last time I saw a highway sign. What was this car, its driver, doing? For the next few corners, I opened up on him and then he closed again on the straights. I worked harder, focused, to eke out more performance from my GT4, and then I realized that I was being pushed too hard and started to lose focus, and that I should just ease off and point him by safely.

I gave him a point-by on the right, thinking the addition of a middle finger could be in order but I didn’t. He sped by, down the “Quarry” sweeper, and turned up towards the front straight. By then, I had lost some focus with these high jinks. I slowed down and signalled a pit-out, my arm out and fist up, and took a break for a track-side chat with the track pro, to try to deal with these unsanctioned tactics. That’s the second half of the lessons taught at both CTMP and CMP — stay cool and let the marshals and officials deal with the shenanigans.

I stood by my car for a few minutes first, with some “Chill” music still playing quietly in the background, realizing that for that last half-lap I hadn’t heard a single note, I was so focused. It had been an unexpected “pounce” run of “cat and mouse” out there.

“Hi,” I said to the track pro. “Did you see a dark Porsche, maybe a 911 or a GT4, go by? I think the driver missed or misunderstood the driver’s briefing.” Still watching the track and exit lane, he said, “It wasn’t a 911, it was a GT4.” Oh, I thought to myself, maybe that’s why he could hang on my bumper for so long. “I will find him,” he said after I told him what had gone on. “And I will deal with this.”

It was important not to let one person spoil my day and leave it to the officials. I needed to get both my mind and my car back on track. I was here to have fun, safely. Refocused and returning to my trusty GT4, a few of my new driver friends in the other group waving, I buckled back in and got back on the track for a few more laps, to finish off my session. A couple of my newfound track-rat friends tucked in behind and we had a great time at increasing speeds, me leading, as we lapped the track a few more times. White, Gentian Blue and Steel Grey streaks went by as a 718 GT4, 992 Carrera 4S and VW Golf R played joyfully in the sun, safely exploring our, and our cars’, limits.

What a great day! We were, after all, back on track! </>