The Icebreaker, opening event of the 2009 Cumberland Airport Autocross Series season, arrived last weekend to find your wretched scribbler bereft of the Bottom Dollar Coupe. This despite carefully laid plans, liberal applications of the dinero, and the amazing work of most of the build team. Yet all was not lost, as Ron “Pinky” Hawkins generously offered me use of his steed, the familiar red and white 402 stroker Backdraft. Nursing some recent surgery that left an angry pink scar on his formerly “good” knee to match the older one on the “other” knee, he manfully drove it up Friday, through wind and rain so that I could get a time on the board for the Cobra Cup.
The promise of 100% certain rain cast a long and ominous shadow over the entire weekend, prompting many racers to bring two sets of tires for their entries. A smart move as things turned out. The forecast did not dampen an impressive CACC turnout for the “real” opener to the 2009 season.
It did result in an inordinately large pageant of trailer queens. Not wanting to miss the impromptu pre-race day social events (mainly imbibing and indulging in various forms of retrograde humor), many rolled in on Friday afternoon.
Leaving no one to mind the cough drop factory, every single Smith, father, brother and uncle, turned out, dragging their Superformances and the Saleen in a fleet of trailers. Al Paca turned out, uncharacteristically hauling his LoneStar in on an open trailer. Wayne Koi Boi Orchard, not breaking his tradition, arrived Friday with the Mrs. and his Superformance safely esconced in his Snake Hauler (the car, not Susan). Rounding out a paddock that looked like “Manny’s Trailer World (No Reasonable Offer Refused),” Zimmy and our Pappy also towed in their Contemporary Classics and CSX, respectively, I was happy to see Elder, if only for two reasons: (1) his trailer had an awning I was sure we would need, especially on Sunday, when a near 100% chance of “steady rain” was predicted; and (2) because I had missed the extraordinary “panther’s breath” white whiskey that had garnered so much praise at the Chili Cookoff, and rumor promised more would be available at the Icebreaker.
The Trailers Spew Forth Their CargosCoupe-less and none too happy about it, I rolled up in my soon to be extinct Pontiac Solstice GXP. I am ashamed to report that, Chipper, in an unforgiveable display of fruitiness, trailered up, not, as expected, with the ugly but Spartan open topped Snot Rocket in tow, but with a cushy, state of the art, all weather capable, Z06 Corvette aboard his open trailer. In fact, of Friday’s arrivals, only Pinky, reigning Cobra Cup Champ Wade “the Beaver” Chamberlain, and later in the evening, John “Assfault” Hubbell braved the elements and disdained the prissy comforts of a tow vehicle. John and his illegal tires were accompanied by faithful nephew and Native Bearer Matt Cary, who was praying for rain in his D Stock VW R38.
After slugging through cloudbursts and unholy traffic, we found pleasant sunny skies punctuated by fleecy white clouds as Friday’s gentle debauch in the shade of Elder’s trailer awning began.
Once we dragged him away from watching a golf game on TV at the hotel, Pinky was in rare form, contributing choice quotes for his memoir from the moment he opened his mouth. In fact, his first quip is as good a theme as any for the entire weekend. “Are you wet yet?” Later at dinner, he waxed eloquent about the flotational properties of the vegetable of the day – corn -- after it was ingested and reprocessed. Also, the all-purpose line “spitters are quitters” comes to mind. Later at dinner Zimmy caused gales of hysterical laughter by interpreting a question as to who brought raingear as who brought “reindeer.” Somehow, that seemed much funnier through the prism of uncanny smooth white lightning and Guiness than it looks here in print, but it is my task to record, not interpret. Adolescent shenanigans after the session at the bar included the mysterious appearance in Elder and Pinky’s shared suite of a pair of children’s briefs, complete with skid mark. As I unsuspectingly begged a nightcap to go, they excitedly displayed these, holding them out to me on the end of a stick. After my glass was full, I nervously backed out of their room, turned, and fled down the hall. For legal and moral reasons, I wanted to know as little as possible about the origins of that frightening garment and what they planned to do with it. We would see it again as the weekend progressed.
Early Saturday morning, I peered out into the gathering dawn to find some mist, and wet pavement, but amazingly no rain. A quick check of the Weather Channel on cable revealed a wonder. Smack between the pressure bars of a stationary cold front pumping moist humid air from the Gulf of Mexico clear up into New York, was a bubble of high pressure, holding the steady rain at bay. Like a winter weary racer’s Shangri-La, the emerald vale of Cumberland sat tucked in the middle of this island of dry calm in the surrounding gloom and rain. This pattern was to hold up all day.
Mark Boggs laid out something of a devious but a little different course to clear out winter’s cobwebs. A sharp left hander out of the start crossed the taxiway and gave way to the featured long straight, this time running down toward the MSP chopper hanger on the far side of the tarmac. Instead of the usual constant radius turnaround, Boggs served up a tricky descending radius turn, which opened onto a fast slalom with increasingly tighter gates, followed by a short right hand jog into a funnel. This fed into a S turn crossover, in the usual location of the “kink” which led to another slalom down to the terminal end turnaround, which was shorter and tighter than usual. Back through the slalom, through another quick S turn, into a brutal speed killing right angle left hand Chicago box right at the end. The weather eventually turned into a near perfect slightly cool but sunny day.
Down . . . .
And back.All were heartened as the pavement quickly dried during the coursewalk. Those chasing FTD were disheartened to see formidable regional autocross celebrities Brian Karwan and Jason Becker walking the course, and Karwan’s heavily prepped Civic and Becker’s red hot SS Mod Imola BMW M coupe pawing the ground in the paddock. On a weekend that promised to be kind to AWD cars driven by local autocross stars, Mr. and Mrs. Francois Bru in their WRX did not miss out on Saturday’s fun.
Uh oh. Who Invited Them? Of course, native son Matt Felten was there to defend his accustomed, but wordless, position at the top of the heap. In fact, a number of the mugs from the Airport Café’s rogue’s gallery of Cumberland FTDs were there to make a grab for the title: including Jeff Duncan in his Ultralight, Greg Honeycutt in his open wheel Reynard, and Wade Chamberlain, Fast Fred Kelley, and Mr. Personality Casey in their Factory Five Cobras.
When You're a Jet You're a Jet All the WayAlso showing up was the latest incarnation of that evolving experiment in speed-- the Moran Suxass Subie -- now sporting a crazy boost controller switch perched on the steering wheel. This red “panic button” looked for all the world like a NOS trigger, but in fact prevented boost bypass and spun the turbo up to the maximum 23 psi when depressed. Mike, Jake and Jen Moran came looking for an all wheel drive bloodletting in the crowded XP class this inaugural weekend. Smooth Jim Harris, fresh from last year’s Steeltown Corvette Cup victory, crossed to the Blue Oval darkside and deployed his “So 1968” 2008 Bullitt edition Mustang. The usual APL crowd of rocket factory speed demons didn’t miss it, either. Tink, in the inspiration for the BDC, his beautiful Daytona coupe, and Bane and Loper in their full metal jacket jet black Fox body Mustang and Camaro, and the rest of their gang.
Cobra ranks were swelled by Dave Thompson drove in in his LoneStar, in gelcoat no more. Also joining in were the Pennsylvania contingent FFR, co-driven by Steve Marsh and Frank S, still in basic black gelcoat, and the West Virginia Backdraft, piloted by Barry Knotts and Will Teeter. Cementing Cumberland’s growing reputation as a playground for anything goes ground pounders, XP class crowded the grid with not less than 22 timed entries on Saturday!
In first heat action, Jake Moran pressed the button and SuxAss set the pace going into the second with a respectable 45.5. During the second heat, SCCA regulars Becker and Bru dueled each other, beating their times down deep into the 45s, each plagued by cones, with Becker emerging the victor with a clean 44.415. Each topped their classes. Matt Felten silently edged them both with his Reynard’s super quick and clean laps in the low 44s, and then sealed the deal with an incredible last pass of 43.42. That looked like FTD, but conditions were good, there were fast cars and drivers to come, and nothing was cut in stone yet.
Third heat as always was big and tough, packed with contenders chasing Felten. Wade showed what a Cup champ is made of by getting into the 44s on his recon run, and shaving time until his last best pass of 44.34, netting him fifth overall for the day. Mr. Personality Larry was in spitting distance, too, with his last run of 44.413, finishing sixth overall, and just squeaking by Becker by a hundreth. Jeff Duncan, who ran his Ultralight in the 3rd, was the hottest shoe of the heat with a smoking 44.15 lap, good for his class win and third overall. As usual, the rest of the Cobras battled each other mercilessly for the scraps over lousy tenths and hundreds. Upstart Keystoner Steve Marsh’s 44.9 bested Hubbell’s clean 45.6, Tink’s 46.2, while Fast Freddie marred a good 44.8 run with a cone. We couldn’t believe that the Pa. car was running nothing fancier than a well tuned 302. Suspicions continue. Al Paca proved he still is a contender with a 47.4, good enough to edge out the Smith Brothers’ lesser 47s. Last year’s CACC Cone King Dave T., proved that talent will out, and humiliated more experienced drivers, including me, with his very respectable 47.7. I, ahem, had trouble mastering Pinky’s car. Jen Moran whipped me good, by a half a second. But I make no excuses. My thanks to Pinky for letting me drive his beautiful Backdraft. I regret I could do no justice to it.
Thunder on the Mountain Fourth heat had its ringers. Mike Moran used the awesome forced induction on demand might of the turbo Subie to battle Brian Karwan’s nimble handling Civic. Moran pulled out a blistering 43.88 on his last lap. That was good for second overall raw, and the coveted, Cobra-killing XP class win. Brian, tight to the cones across the slalom heavy course, nicked a few, but finally cleaned it up on his last run to finish with a 44.2, good for fourth overall and the SM mod class victory. This time, top ten CACC finishes included only Wade and Larry. Hail to them, but we obviously still have some ice to chip.
The Winner: ScienceSaturday’s results show an interesting development. From where I sit, the spirit of competition at Cumberland emphasizes heads-up car and driver vs. car and driver performance more, and intraclass placement and homoglation less. Let a hundred mechanical flowers bloom and they will. So now what we see is a dazzling variety of platforms, each expressing a different approach to speed and handling, all finishing within a second or so of one another. What did we see at the top of the heap Saturday? A Reynard open wheel race car, a turbo Jekyll & Hyde AWD Subie, a Lotus clone S2000 powered Ultralight, a seriously prepped Civic, a couple of home brewed Cobras, and a built M coupe. All within a few ticks. . . . That’s pretty cool. Where it could go from here is even cooler.
Art and CB Bill arrived before the end of the fourth heat and CB stuck around for the party. At Doc Mike’s picnic, a stubborn wild bird had decided to nest in the gravel of Doc’s driveway apron. It squawked angrily but would not budge when anyone approached. Someone thoughtfully placed a chair over the brave but silly bird so a Porsche wouldn’t park on it, making a raw bird omelet. We also had to keep CB away from it. We had drinks at the bar afterward with Jen and Mike Moran, the Brus, and Jason and his Dad.
Kooky Bird
Classic Doc Mike's Scene After drinkies, back at the hotel, Elder sought misguided revenge for the underpants incident. Aided by Pink Pedals and an unnamed technical advisor, he attempted to trap Chipper in his room using the old college stack of coins in the doorjamb trick. His ninja-like stealth was compromised when Gary, awakened by Pappy’s peals of maniacal laughter, and jerked open the door, a bit bewildered, to find a shower of small change falling at his feet. Yes, some of these men have children of their own.
Showers were what the forecast had in store for the next morning. Followed by steady rain. The near-perfect conditions of the day vanished in the dreams of that night.
The next day dawned grey cold and wet. The day of the new generation of treaded near-R compound tire had arrived. . . .
Stay tuned for Part II.
