Some like it Wet

It was naive to think that we could go to Phillip Island in the months from April-November without expecting at least one day of freezing cold and constant rain. Most race drivers say of wet racing: "it's not the lack of traction that's the problem, it's the lack of visibility...". Well, actually, I think both are pretty annoying.

Lagler's Cameron Luke made the trip to the 'Island and pit crewed for me, as did my 7-year old boy Sam. When we saw it would be wet, I mentioned that extra weight actually helps in the wet. Fortunately, Sam, being a remorseless eating machine, was able to help, and suggested a high powered race driver diet of:
- a bag of fat chips,
- meat pie
- box of bbq cheezles
- some milky-ways (I forget how many)
- homemade cup-cakes
- six cups of coffee

And that was just breakfast. So my main problems in the wet races were zero traction, zero visibility, fogging visor, and chronic heartburn.

What didn't help was that, before my first race meeting two months ago, in my haste to ensure I had all equipment neccessary, I purchased a second-hand set of wet weather tyres. I did this in the assumption that I would never actually use them. But fate called my bluff and I did have to use them. And they were as hard as old bricks. Not even flooring adhesive would stick to these babies

Morning practice went okay despite a damp track and the rock hard wet tyres meaning I had to stay out of the throttle a lot. I fear I'm getting old and have developed an annoying sense of self-preservation. After a few laps I went into Honda Hairpin mostly backwards to avoid a stricken kart parked right where I wanted to go. The spin put me into the pit's slip road so I figured I may as well drive straight back in there. I tried to drive all the way around to the entry grid and see if I could go back out again. But the grid marshal girl, who looked suspiciously like Britney Spears, said the session was over. Oh well, if you're going to accidentally drive back into the pits, you may as well do it right at the session's end.

After all the tension the track actually dried out by Race 1. Again we shared the meeting with PIARC circuit sprints and the cars helped form a dry line. Marcus Zukanovich of Commodore Cup/ V8 Ute fame was there with the ute, giving us some drift action in the final corner onto the straight. Impressive stuff. Oh, and I gotta mention, amongst the PIARC field and pitted next to us was my favourite car ever, well, a replica thereof... a Ford GT40, the 1960's Le Mans legend. 40 inches tall, style way ahead of it's time, and 380ci/ 500 horses of Ford grunt. Yumm-meee. Next to him, a replica Ford AC Cobra. If it wasn't so drizzly I'd think I was in heaven.

Race 1

Again I couldn't quite understand why but despite being a P-plater I started from what appeared to be my qualifying position, around 30th out of 40-odd. The start was uneventful except I made up several spots before the first corner, then had a lonely race in around 25th outright (actual class positions unavailable at time of writing). The track seemed to coming to me nicely as the race went on, albeit still a little greasy and slow. There were also fuel richness problems which caused the engine to miss and pop and bang occasionally. A change of carby jets between races was the order.

Race 2

Immediately after race 1 the rain began to fall and set in all day. The penguins must have been thrilled. Back on with the wets and starting from around 30th again the start was frightening. You've heard V8 Supercar/ F1 drivers etc talk about visibility...there was none. With 30 karts ahead it was all spray, and I could barely make out shapes.

Traction wise though I can say at least the grip levels were consistent. But again, those wets of mine were teaching me a lesson. Don't skimp on tyres. Still, I managed to last the race without throwing into the mud. Job done. Sadly, our mates with the beautiful replicas had grown weary of all the mud, slush and fear of destroying their $100K + babies so they retired to the Cowes pub, wishing me luck. Thanks...

Race 3

The start was a complete dog's breakfast. The lights went yellow, red, red off (which normally means "go") then yellow. Most of the field worked out that meant aborted start and eventually trundled to a halt a few metres up the grid, parked in various awkward positions. But some juniors who don't bother with little trivialities like learning the rules bolted off the the line. Which meant those of us who had done the right thing and stopped were at the mercy of these over-excited youngsters who weren't looking further than two metres ahead of themselves. One of them went between me and pit wall, missing me by inches.

As if it couldn't get worse, they waved a green flag which meant "do another warm-up lap", but some thought that meant "you can start racing now" and while I tried to maintain my grid position for a lap, everyone behind me took off up the road and acted all surprised when then returned to the start finish line to find stationary karts waiting for the lights. By this stage the grid had been jumbled like lotto balls. I have no idea whether I was anywhere near my correct grid slot. Again yellow lights came on but this time we all made the unilateral decision to start racing regardless of stalled karts and we all set off into the wall of spray.

After the start line shenanigans it was clear this would be one of those races. Eventually I settled into a lonely race, but sure enough, just when I thought I was getting some grip from my old concrete tyres, I threw it into the outfield at Honda Hairpin and dropped to last. Rejoining, I thought to still be running was a bonus, as there were many muddy karts parked around the track.

But in conditions like these, you never spin just once. My problem is, I reach what is known as my "threshold of stupidity", where you subconsciously try to save face after a spin by trying not to go too slow, then you lose it again... This time I spun into the tight little right hander (MG) after the frightening Lukey Heights descent, a corner I'd managed to survive all day.

Trying to rejoin from MG is more dangerous, although I watched others do exactly that. With the 250cc Gearbox karts coming over the hill full bore, it was dicey. As we keep saying to our children.."It's all fun until someone gets hurt..."

So, having passed my threshold of stupidity and with that sense of self-preservation kicking in I sat it out on the infield like a sulky wet duck. Wet weather racing is a part of life, in fact I used to be quite good at it. But when you get caught short with ridiculous tyres it becomes a hiding-to-nothing. Rest assured when I get a decent set I will most likely relish some wet races with a grin on my face.

Fortunately nobody did get hurt, despite episodes like Shaun Trounson's (Hyperracer). He managed to spin an impossible number of times halfway down the front straight after hitting standing water in a straight line. It was quite a spectacle apparently.