Or at least until I figure out what I forgot and decide to post again.
It's now Sunday and I've been home for a couple of days letting it all sink in a bit. I'm not sure it will all ever really sink in completely, there was just so much to do, to learn, and to absorb. We did a pretty good job of it, but a lot of it is truly a blur.
What I do know is that we had a blast and we'll be back, weather and wealth willing. If the US Dollar slips against its Canadian counterpart much further we'll all be getting second jobs to pay for this kind of adventure. Why didn't we think to do this a few years ago? Or rather, how come we didn't do this sooner? There's no good answer to that one, but it's fair to say we're hooked.
Now's the time for thanks. We have many people to thank, and I'm sure I'll make a fine muckery of it, but here goes.
First of all (NASCAR hat!), we would want to thank our sponsors, without whose support this trip would have been truly ramen noodle inducing, in that we'd be reduced to subsisting on noodles and broth for some months after the event if we didn't have the great support we did. Autobahn BMW in Fort Worth really helped us with spare parts and sourcing some other things that we ended up needing. As I type this there is a cap and rotor on the front of the motor that came fresh out of an Autobahn box. If you need a BMW or some parts, check 'em out. http://www.shopautobahn.com/
They're truly nice people and they always have an M5 or M6 or some other example of unobtanium that they let me drool on, at least for a while.
Toyo Tires, through our affiliation with the BMW CCA supplied us with a great deal on some of the new Proxes R888 R-compound tire, the much vaunted and long awaited replacement for the venerable RA-1. More on the performance of the tires anon, but the support from Toyo was invaluable and made us the subject of much envy on our voyage. They also make cool street tires for those not racing all the time: http://www.toyo.com/
CAP Software (shameless plug alert!) provided the rally computer and other computer related support and that equipment was instrumental in our ability to contest the stages with as little stress as possible. The Timewise 798A computer is a fine piece of equipment and worked flawlessly all week, giving us precision in our readings that the other teams could only dream of. If you have a retail store, we can help you out: http://www.capretail.com/
BuckDesign, run by our own Bill Buck, provided all the graphic design support and design work for us. It's his fault the car looked so good, and I can truly say we got lots of compliments on the car while we were there. Thanks Bill, we can't wait to start working on graphics for next year. Contact Bill for great design work: buckdesign@mindspring.com
Thanks again to all of our sponsors, but also to all of our supporters. Money makes the event happen, but knowing people are watching and that they care makes it worthwhile. The kind remarks we received from so many people both at the event and away from it really mean a lot and it gives us the energy to look over that next crest. Please know that it was and is very much appreciated and we're lucky people to have so many friends and "fans".
We even managed to make some friends and fans at the event too. Jim Kenzie, the Canadian journalist, took us under his wing a bit and followed our story on his blog. You can see it here:
http://en.autos.sympatico.msn.ca/Targa/article.aspx?cp-documentid=5426621
http://en.autos.sympatico.msn.ca/Targa/article.aspx?cp-documentid=5454003
Again, words of encouragement and advice from someone like Jim were really tremendous and it's great consolation at the end of the day to go back and read such things. It's actually somewhat fitting too, because it's really his fault we were even at this thing in the first place. You see, for those of you that are new to Targa, Jim was the announcer for the TV special for the first few years and Nick and I both so thoroughly enjoyed his presentation and commentary on the event that we put it on our wish list of events to attend. This year that wish came true and we got to meet Jim to boot. Thanks Jim.
Now, back to the Toyos. Nick and I both use the RA-1 on our race cars for our normal track duty. This is a long running design, but it offers a killer combination of affordability, longevity, and predictable behavior over the course of a race. It's a great tire and we were planning on using it for Targa, but then Stan Chen at Toyo offered me the new R888 and I couldn't turn it down. This tire offers a cool modern tread pattern and generous sizing, but the performance was a real treat too. The grip was excellent in the wet and the dry, and we definitely needed good wet performance for Targa. The tire was very predictable and the breakaway characteristics are excellent. I was very happy with the handling, and they're very stable under braking, even on mixed or loose surfaces. I'll definitely be buying more of these.
We were also the only team at Targa running the new tire, and it generated a lot of attention. I'm pretty sure a lot of the teams wanted to attribute our success to the tire, and it certainly helped, but I like to think we had something to do with it as well. I guess it's the old driver ego thing, but nothing helps inflate an ego like a great set of boots, and the new R888 certainly qualifies as that.
So, we're finally home. We took the long boat ride (over 15 hours) from Argentia to North Sydney and hit the road henceforth. You could call the return trip the "Hedonism" portion of the trip because get this, we stopped at a hotel. I know, what wild wimpery. But, it turned out to not be such a bad thing because we had an issue going on in the trailer that needed attention.
See, Newfoundland is a bit like Texas in that it has it's own distinct culture, and as a result, they get their own beer and liquor. There are several brands of beer, some by Molson, that are made and distributed only in Newfoundland. Well, I had to bring some of that home with me, so we filled up the trunk of the race car with six packs of foreign beers. A frothwagon indeed. I also picked up some Screech. Now, Saved by the Bell aside, Screech is a local liquor, akin to dark rum that is made and served in Newfoundland. I came to like it and brought back a fair dram to share.
So, what happened in the trailer? Well, we stashed about a dozen six packs in the trunk of the race car in the enclosed trailer. We figured this would be a secure enough place for it, and we didn't really have anywhere else to put that much beer anyway, so there it went. The problem was Connecticut. If you've never been, take your mouthguard with you if you go. The roads in Connecticut are the worst I've ever seen. I would liken it to driving on the moon after the Navy shelled it for a few fortnights. I'm quite sure that driving across the Australian Outback at 100MPH in the dark would provide a smoother ride than does the interstate in CT. Wow. The result was that many bottles of brew bashed themselves open in the trunk. The trailer smelled good, but we didn't really get the benefit of all that lost lager. What a shame.
Some consolation came from all the excellent Newfie music we picked up on our sightseeing day. Nick and I both had heard of Great Big Sea, a local band that has somewhat made it good, but we picked up some tremendous traditional stuff and some albums by The Punters and The Navigators. Check 'em out, it's kickin'. Not exactly Top 40 material, but neither am I.
As I type this some of the pics and video we have from the trip are being edited for public consumption, so hold on a little while longer please. See, I lied, there will be another post. Greg and Brian took a ton of pictures of the idyllic setting, so we'll get those up here soon.
What else? Can that really be it? I guess so for now. We had a great trip, learned a lot, did many things I never really thought I'd ever do, and we had a lot of fun doing it. I'm afraid we've started a tradition. Hopefully that inheritance I didn't know about will come through.
Thanks for reading, I'll let you know when we're off on the next adventure.
Cheers,
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Now it's actually over...
It's Saturday, and Targa Newfoundland 2007 has officially ended. Unfortunately we didn't wake up to find that it was all a bad dream, the car is still wrecked.
Surprisingly, since the race is over, we managed to break down again. More on that later. Now, we're fine from the original incident, and the car is reasonably back together. We hammered the hood and fender out and fixed the radiator, so now it looks like this:
http://www.darlingtonmediaworks.com/garth/TN07_Sept14/source/07r105f406.htm
We ran the Torbay stage, topping out at 66kph, which is pretty slow, whether you know what a kilometer is or not. The car seemed to work okay and we made the ceremonial finish at the Keg down by the water, which really felt great. The other competitors have been unbelievably supportive and positive about our incident and our efforts thus far. It makes a big difference to have friends smiling and cheering for you when you drive a broken car across the finish line out of contention, and we really appreciate it.
We went and drowned our sorrows at the after party, but not before dinner at the Athenian Cafe in downtown St. John's. Nick the Greek got to chat it up with the owner who was very gracious and the food was tremendous.
Today was the Easter Seals Charity Autocross, so we took the car out there to give rides for charity. Brian and Greg were going to be doing the driving after a solid week of supporting us and generally putting up with fussy drivers. We owe them a huge amount for the invaluable assistance during this event. Without them our lives would have been infinitely harder and it likely would have affected our ability to compete. Thanks guys.
So, back to the autocross. Brian took the first kid out for a ride, and about two thirds of the way through the run we all heard a sickening crunch. The right front lower steering knuckle that we had welded up failed and the impact flattened the tire and broke the wheel, but that's it. We took it apart and Roy Hopkins welded it back for us so we could roll the car on the trailer at least. The back door of the trailer is shut, and it's staying that way until 76109.
In other news, Roy and Adrienne won overall in truly impressive fashion. It was really stunning to run a stage and gather points, and then see how few they collected. Just dominant really. Congratulations to them in every way.
We're off to the awards Gala tonight and then we get to check out the sights and sounds of Newfoundland at normal speeds.
It look like we'll be back next year, so maybe we can keep it on the road and bring home a better finish.
Thanks.
Surprisingly, since the race is over, we managed to break down again. More on that later. Now, we're fine from the original incident, and the car is reasonably back together. We hammered the hood and fender out and fixed the radiator, so now it looks like this:
http://www.darlingtonmediaworks.com/garth/TN07_Sept14/source/07r105f406.htm
We ran the Torbay stage, topping out at 66kph, which is pretty slow, whether you know what a kilometer is or not. The car seemed to work okay and we made the ceremonial finish at the Keg down by the water, which really felt great. The other competitors have been unbelievably supportive and positive about our incident and our efforts thus far. It makes a big difference to have friends smiling and cheering for you when you drive a broken car across the finish line out of contention, and we really appreciate it.
We went and drowned our sorrows at the after party, but not before dinner at the Athenian Cafe in downtown St. John's. Nick the Greek got to chat it up with the owner who was very gracious and the food was tremendous.
Today was the Easter Seals Charity Autocross, so we took the car out there to give rides for charity. Brian and Greg were going to be doing the driving after a solid week of supporting us and generally putting up with fussy drivers. We owe them a huge amount for the invaluable assistance during this event. Without them our lives would have been infinitely harder and it likely would have affected our ability to compete. Thanks guys.
So, back to the autocross. Brian took the first kid out for a ride, and about two thirds of the way through the run we all heard a sickening crunch. The right front lower steering knuckle that we had welded up failed and the impact flattened the tire and broke the wheel, but that's it. We took it apart and Roy Hopkins welded it back for us so we could roll the car on the trailer at least. The back door of the trailer is shut, and it's staying that way until 76109.
In other news, Roy and Adrienne won overall in truly impressive fashion. It was really stunning to run a stage and gather points, and then see how few they collected. Just dominant really. Congratulations to them in every way.
We're off to the awards Gala tonight and then we get to check out the sights and sounds of Newfoundland at normal speeds.
It look like we'll be back next year, so maybe we can keep it on the road and bring home a better finish.
Thanks.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Semi-Final Update
Well, it's friday morning and I have smashing news. As in, physically smashing.
Yesterday we hit a house. For real. It was the second stage of the afternoon leg, heading through Garnish and Nick was driving. We were looking good and made it through the right hander that caught a 944 Turbo out last year, sending him for a swim, but the next immediate right was covered with loose dirt and we got in a bit hot, locked up and slid straight into a house.
As it turns out, it's the same house that an E36 M3 hit last year. We didn't hit it as hard as they did, but we hit it hard enough. You can see it somewhat in the picture here:
http://www.flatovercrest.com/2007/09/targa-leg-4-wra.html#more
Unfortunately, the house is a frame house and the frame floor was just high enough to clear the bumper and take out our radiator and core support, as well as the cap and rotor. Also, curiously the right front steering knuckle sheared off, we're not quite sure why.
After becoming instant local celebrities and getting our TV interview out of the way, we headed to Marystown to fix the car. We got some great help from the Subaru Canada team who welded up the broken knuckle while we pulled the broken sheet metal off and replaced the radiator. We got the suspension back together but we can't be sure the weld is structurally strong enough, so we aren't running any competitive stages today.
Targa has a Finisher's Medallion award for crews completing 75% of the stages, and we're one stage short, so we're going to tow the car to the final stage this afternoon and cruise through it to the ceremonial finish.
How does it look? Not too pretty, but we did hammer the fender and hood out and get them back on the car.
How were we doing? Beyond belief, or at least my belief. We were having a great time and really raising a lot of eyebrows. Apparently you're "not supposed" to switch driver and co-driver, and certainly not in the middle of the day like we've been doing.
As of lunch yesterday we were third overall, winning the Modern division by 24 seconds, and we were over 3 minutes clear of our next competitor in class 7. We were excited as you may imagine.
How does it feel? Well, we weren't hurt and the car is going to be okay, so that's the main thing, but it's a tough thing at this point. We've really been up and down the emotional rollercoaster this week and we're sort of at the point where the coaster is screeching back into the station and you've just moved your hand on the handrail and found the last kid's wet gum with your fingers. It's just sort of a big disappointing end to a fairy tale ride.
So, we will get to the finish today and head home at the end of the weekend. But, there's no rest for the weary. As soon a we get home we get to rebuild the car for the O'Fest club race.
I'll post pics once we get them up, but that's about it for now.
I'll get the pics done and post some follow up thoughts tomorrow. For now we're off to St. John's for the wrap up.
Thanks for reading and for all the kind comments.
Cheers from Marystown, NL.
Yesterday we hit a house. For real. It was the second stage of the afternoon leg, heading through Garnish and Nick was driving. We were looking good and made it through the right hander that caught a 944 Turbo out last year, sending him for a swim, but the next immediate right was covered with loose dirt and we got in a bit hot, locked up and slid straight into a house.
As it turns out, it's the same house that an E36 M3 hit last year. We didn't hit it as hard as they did, but we hit it hard enough. You can see it somewhat in the picture here:
http://www.flatovercrest.com/2007/09/targa-leg-4-wra.html#more
Unfortunately, the house is a frame house and the frame floor was just high enough to clear the bumper and take out our radiator and core support, as well as the cap and rotor. Also, curiously the right front steering knuckle sheared off, we're not quite sure why.
After becoming instant local celebrities and getting our TV interview out of the way, we headed to Marystown to fix the car. We got some great help from the Subaru Canada team who welded up the broken knuckle while we pulled the broken sheet metal off and replaced the radiator. We got the suspension back together but we can't be sure the weld is structurally strong enough, so we aren't running any competitive stages today.
Targa has a Finisher's Medallion award for crews completing 75% of the stages, and we're one stage short, so we're going to tow the car to the final stage this afternoon and cruise through it to the ceremonial finish.
How does it look? Not too pretty, but we did hammer the fender and hood out and get them back on the car.
How were we doing? Beyond belief, or at least my belief. We were having a great time and really raising a lot of eyebrows. Apparently you're "not supposed" to switch driver and co-driver, and certainly not in the middle of the day like we've been doing.
As of lunch yesterday we were third overall, winning the Modern division by 24 seconds, and we were over 3 minutes clear of our next competitor in class 7. We were excited as you may imagine.
How does it feel? Well, we weren't hurt and the car is going to be okay, so that's the main thing, but it's a tough thing at this point. We've really been up and down the emotional rollercoaster this week and we're sort of at the point where the coaster is screeching back into the station and you've just moved your hand on the handrail and found the last kid's wet gum with your fingers. It's just sort of a big disappointing end to a fairy tale ride.
So, we will get to the finish today and head home at the end of the weekend. But, there's no rest for the weary. As soon a we get home we get to rebuild the car for the O'Fest club race.
I'll post pics once we get them up, but that's about it for now.
I'll get the pics done and post some follow up thoughts tomorrow. For now we're off to St. John's for the wrap up.
Thanks for reading and for all the kind comments.
Cheers from Marystown, NL.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday!
Brief update.
First. Beware, Gander-bound traveler. ‘Tis a beautiful place, but there ‘tis little internet here, matey, arrrrgh!
I typed the previous entry and this one in my room and put them on my thumb drive and took them downstairs to the lobby computer since there is only dial-up in my room and that’s the equivalent of semaphore or possibly even as archaic as regular mail, I don’t know which. It’s bad, that’s all I know.
Also, if you have a cell phone, the chances of it working here are about as good as the chances of your seeing a moose. Remember what I said about the moose population before responding.
So, we had the trusty crew pick up some Virgin Mobile pay-as-you-go phones for us today so we can possibly communicate in the remainder of the stages. Nothing goes with rallying like being completely incommunicado.
Anyway, this will be a short update. I know no one believes that, but it’s true. It’s late and I’m tired. We’ve been doing these marathon days and then eating dinner at 9:30 and then going over the routebook for the next day, so it gets pretty late and we always have early mornings.
The first bit of news that is probably less believable than the one above. We’re not losing. No, wait, it’s true! After two full days of Targa Newfoundland, we’re actually placed fourth overall and we’re winning our class by a comfortable 1:13. We picked up 17 seconds of penalties today, in the first stage and the last, neatly book-ending our midday run of clean stages. However, nearly everyone took points on the first stage, and absolutely everyone took points on the final stage, so we managed to make up 3 places in the overall standings today. So there. I don’t believe it myself.
Second, the car broke. It had to happen, we knew it would. But, the good news is, we didn’t even notice. Actually, all that happened was the “dog-bone” link came off one end of the rear swaybar and Greg noticed it when checking under the car. There may or may not be some good dings in our skid plate, but the car is solid and really working well.
Third, I’m sorry to report that one of the other E30 M3s, the Pippy car from Pittsburgh is probably out after rolling over on the penultimate stage yesterday. We had come to know them somewhat and enjoyed hanging out with them, but there was a wooden bridge toward the end of stage 1-5 that was absolutely treacherous in the wet, and it caught them out apparently. They are okay by all accounts, but we haven’t seen them yet. The other M3 of Steve Levesque is running fine though, and he's moving right along.
They are not the only incident by a long stretch either, there has been quite a bit of damage done, but all the people are intact and unhurt, so all of this safety gear we carry is doing its job. Luckily we haven’t really had any moments and for the most part we’ve been clearing stages with plenty of time in hand, meaning we don’t have to push unnecessarily.
The day two verdict is that this whole thing was probably a terrible idea, a complete and life-changing folly, if you will. By that I mean, of course, it’s fun. Too much fun.
Gotta go to bed now, but we’re off to Clarenville tomorrow night, so maybe I’ll be able to post more regularly.
Cheers, and good night.
First. Beware, Gander-bound traveler. ‘Tis a beautiful place, but there ‘tis little internet here, matey, arrrrgh!
I typed the previous entry and this one in my room and put them on my thumb drive and took them downstairs to the lobby computer since there is only dial-up in my room and that’s the equivalent of semaphore or possibly even as archaic as regular mail, I don’t know which. It’s bad, that’s all I know.
Also, if you have a cell phone, the chances of it working here are about as good as the chances of your seeing a moose. Remember what I said about the moose population before responding.
So, we had the trusty crew pick up some Virgin Mobile pay-as-you-go phones for us today so we can possibly communicate in the remainder of the stages. Nothing goes with rallying like being completely incommunicado.
Anyway, this will be a short update. I know no one believes that, but it’s true. It’s late and I’m tired. We’ve been doing these marathon days and then eating dinner at 9:30 and then going over the routebook for the next day, so it gets pretty late and we always have early mornings.
The first bit of news that is probably less believable than the one above. We’re not losing. No, wait, it’s true! After two full days of Targa Newfoundland, we’re actually placed fourth overall and we’re winning our class by a comfortable 1:13. We picked up 17 seconds of penalties today, in the first stage and the last, neatly book-ending our midday run of clean stages. However, nearly everyone took points on the first stage, and absolutely everyone took points on the final stage, so we managed to make up 3 places in the overall standings today. So there. I don’t believe it myself.
Second, the car broke. It had to happen, we knew it would. But, the good news is, we didn’t even notice. Actually, all that happened was the “dog-bone” link came off one end of the rear swaybar and Greg noticed it when checking under the car. There may or may not be some good dings in our skid plate, but the car is solid and really working well.
Third, I’m sorry to report that one of the other E30 M3s, the Pippy car from Pittsburgh is probably out after rolling over on the penultimate stage yesterday. We had come to know them somewhat and enjoyed hanging out with them, but there was a wooden bridge toward the end of stage 1-5 that was absolutely treacherous in the wet, and it caught them out apparently. They are okay by all accounts, but we haven’t seen them yet. The other M3 of Steve Levesque is running fine though, and he's moving right along.
They are not the only incident by a long stretch either, there has been quite a bit of damage done, but all the people are intact and unhurt, so all of this safety gear we carry is doing its job. Luckily we haven’t really had any moments and for the most part we’ve been clearing stages with plenty of time in hand, meaning we don’t have to push unnecessarily.
The day two verdict is that this whole thing was probably a terrible idea, a complete and life-changing folly, if you will. By that I mean, of course, it’s fun. Too much fun.
Gotta go to bed now, but we’re off to Clarenville tomorrow night, so maybe I’ll be able to post more regularly.
Cheers, and good night.
Monday = Funday
We did it.
We didn’t crash out or blow up on the first day. We didn’t even find that we’d put the brake pads in backwards or that our ride height was obscenely low either. In fact, we had no major issues.
We made it through DAY ONE (You’re supposed to say that in your best James Earl Jones voice inside your head), it’s fairly momentous. Nick started the day driving due to the vagaries of another coin toss (I just know that someday luck will work itself out), and I was navigating. We had some issues with delays and whatnot in the morning, but Nick put in 4 really solid stints to start off, the only problem being a little balkiness in the “new to us” close ratio gearbox. He was having problems getting into second gear, but it seemed to get better.
The day dawned cold and rainy, and the transit from St. John’s to Argentia was in fact wet and foggy, but by the time we actually lined up for the start, it was dry. The first stage was relatively short and Nick felt it out nicely and got through with seven seconds or so in hand. Not a bad start at all.
The second stage was a short way away in Placentia, and this is where some others began to have issues. We came to a long left hander in the instructions and found an Austin Healey from the Touring class well and truly planted in the ditch. The driver and co-driver are reported to be okay, but it looked like a rough one. As it would turn out, a CRX from the Targa class piled into the same wreck later in the stage. Scratch two competitors. The Healey incident and the melee surrounding it caused us to slow down and take our first points of the rally, but that’s disputable. More on that later.
Then, breakfast. One of the unique/neat things about this event is that we stop during the day at local gathering places such as churches, parks, and meeting halls for meals and “meet and greets” where we basically bask in the local hospitality. To say that the people of Newfoundland welcome this event and its competitors with open arms would be an understatement on the order of saying Hitler was sort of a bad dude. It’s very special and a real treat to meet the locals and hear their take on the event, the cars, and Newfoundland itself. Thanks.
The third stage was a medium length transit away, and it was actually shortened due to road conditions, so we only ran about half of it. It was also marked Condition Two (more James Earl please) meaning that the road might be damp or wet and there might be light fog and rain. The upshot of this is that our base time is higher, so there’s an allowance for the conditions. We lucked out in that there didn’t actually seem to be any moisture on the road, so Nick was able to drive a controlled pace and clean the stage nicely.
The fourth stage was also shortened, this time due to a funeral procession or ceremony in the first half of the stage, so we only ran the last 10.4km of the original 29km. Yep, it’s a long one. This time it actually was wet so Nick got to try out the handling of our new Toyo Proxes R888 tires in the rain. The initial reports are good, not to mention that our car is quite the talk of the town. It seems that many of the other competitors had tried to get a set of these and were unable, so we have the only set at Targa Newfoundland 2007. Everyone else seems to be running the venerable RA-1, a tire I truly appreciate, but it is getting a little Methuselah-ish. Anyway, Nick handled the rain easily and we cruised in well ahead of the base time.
Then, an event near and dear to every racer’s heart. Lunch!
The good people of Gooseberry Cove welcomed us into their hillside town and fed us soup and sandwiches and lots of smiles. Very nice, and we had a long time there to relax as well. Until the score sheets came out. Then, it was time to scramble and jockey for position to see the positions. At first glance we were sitting 18th of 70 or so competitors, with three points to our name, the first eleven places being competitors with zero points. We were 18th overall and first in our class, twelve seconds clear of the next car. Hey, this was looking pretty good.
After some fist pumping and general self-congratulatory behavior we settled in to wait for the afternoon stages. It was my turn to drive.
The fifth stage had us retracing the route we had just taken, but the stage was run at the full 29km length, also in the wet, so it was pretty exciting. Lots of up and downhill corners with bumps and blind crests, all the while whizzing past houses, mailboxes, and people. It certainly gets your attention. We were starting behind the 702 car, an RX-7 run by Joe and Melissa Butler of St. John’s, and I managed to catch and pass them on the stage since it was so long. But, we were so far ahead of our base time that we had to slow down in order to not be too early. Not a bad problem to have.
Having cleared out the first stage butterflies for me, it was time to do the last stage of our first day. It was a short 4.7km, but it was also wet and quite tight and windy, with some cautions and steep crests thrown in. I had to push a bit after slowing for the caution sections, but in the end I managed to clean the stage as well. It felt good.
So, how was the first day? Long. We spent close to 11 hours in the car with some long stages and transit sections. Did my butt hurt afterward? Yes, yes it did. Sparco makes not the Barcalounger, it’s true. But, did I feel good. Yes, the answer to that is also a big affirmative.
We finished the day and made it back to the Gander Arena for the car show and some minor service. We needed a top up of oil and fuel and had the front suspension bolts checked by our handy crew, but that was it. The car ran perfectly and we didn’t hurt it at all.
And get this. We don’t suck as terribly as you may have heard. We finished the day tied for the overall lead after we got a time correction due to the Healey incident. We zeroed our first ever day of stage rallying and it felt really good. So, along with ten others, we headed into day two with everything to lose. More on that in the next chapter…
We didn’t crash out or blow up on the first day. We didn’t even find that we’d put the brake pads in backwards or that our ride height was obscenely low either. In fact, we had no major issues.
We made it through DAY ONE (You’re supposed to say that in your best James Earl Jones voice inside your head), it’s fairly momentous. Nick started the day driving due to the vagaries of another coin toss (I just know that someday luck will work itself out), and I was navigating. We had some issues with delays and whatnot in the morning, but Nick put in 4 really solid stints to start off, the only problem being a little balkiness in the “new to us” close ratio gearbox. He was having problems getting into second gear, but it seemed to get better.
The day dawned cold and rainy, and the transit from St. John’s to Argentia was in fact wet and foggy, but by the time we actually lined up for the start, it was dry. The first stage was relatively short and Nick felt it out nicely and got through with seven seconds or so in hand. Not a bad start at all.
The second stage was a short way away in Placentia, and this is where some others began to have issues. We came to a long left hander in the instructions and found an Austin Healey from the Touring class well and truly planted in the ditch. The driver and co-driver are reported to be okay, but it looked like a rough one. As it would turn out, a CRX from the Targa class piled into the same wreck later in the stage. Scratch two competitors. The Healey incident and the melee surrounding it caused us to slow down and take our first points of the rally, but that’s disputable. More on that later.
Then, breakfast. One of the unique/neat things about this event is that we stop during the day at local gathering places such as churches, parks, and meeting halls for meals and “meet and greets” where we basically bask in the local hospitality. To say that the people of Newfoundland welcome this event and its competitors with open arms would be an understatement on the order of saying Hitler was sort of a bad dude. It’s very special and a real treat to meet the locals and hear their take on the event, the cars, and Newfoundland itself. Thanks.
The third stage was a medium length transit away, and it was actually shortened due to road conditions, so we only ran about half of it. It was also marked Condition Two (more James Earl please) meaning that the road might be damp or wet and there might be light fog and rain. The upshot of this is that our base time is higher, so there’s an allowance for the conditions. We lucked out in that there didn’t actually seem to be any moisture on the road, so Nick was able to drive a controlled pace and clean the stage nicely.
The fourth stage was also shortened, this time due to a funeral procession or ceremony in the first half of the stage, so we only ran the last 10.4km of the original 29km. Yep, it’s a long one. This time it actually was wet so Nick got to try out the handling of our new Toyo Proxes R888 tires in the rain. The initial reports are good, not to mention that our car is quite the talk of the town. It seems that many of the other competitors had tried to get a set of these and were unable, so we have the only set at Targa Newfoundland 2007. Everyone else seems to be running the venerable RA-1, a tire I truly appreciate, but it is getting a little Methuselah-ish. Anyway, Nick handled the rain easily and we cruised in well ahead of the base time.
Then, an event near and dear to every racer’s heart. Lunch!
The good people of Gooseberry Cove welcomed us into their hillside town and fed us soup and sandwiches and lots of smiles. Very nice, and we had a long time there to relax as well. Until the score sheets came out. Then, it was time to scramble and jockey for position to see the positions. At first glance we were sitting 18th of 70 or so competitors, with three points to our name, the first eleven places being competitors with zero points. We were 18th overall and first in our class, twelve seconds clear of the next car. Hey, this was looking pretty good.
After some fist pumping and general self-congratulatory behavior we settled in to wait for the afternoon stages. It was my turn to drive.
The fifth stage had us retracing the route we had just taken, but the stage was run at the full 29km length, also in the wet, so it was pretty exciting. Lots of up and downhill corners with bumps and blind crests, all the while whizzing past houses, mailboxes, and people. It certainly gets your attention. We were starting behind the 702 car, an RX-7 run by Joe and Melissa Butler of St. John’s, and I managed to catch and pass them on the stage since it was so long. But, we were so far ahead of our base time that we had to slow down in order to not be too early. Not a bad problem to have.
Having cleared out the first stage butterflies for me, it was time to do the last stage of our first day. It was a short 4.7km, but it was also wet and quite tight and windy, with some cautions and steep crests thrown in. I had to push a bit after slowing for the caution sections, but in the end I managed to clean the stage as well. It felt good.
So, how was the first day? Long. We spent close to 11 hours in the car with some long stages and transit sections. Did my butt hurt afterward? Yes, yes it did. Sparco makes not the Barcalounger, it’s true. But, did I feel good. Yes, the answer to that is also a big affirmative.
We finished the day and made it back to the Gander Arena for the car show and some minor service. We needed a top up of oil and fuel and had the front suspension bolts checked by our handy crew, but that was it. The car ran perfectly and we didn’t hurt it at all.
And get this. We don’t suck as terribly as you may have heard. We finished the day tied for the overall lead after we got a time correction due to the Healey incident. We zeroed our first ever day of stage rallying and it felt really good. So, along with ten others, we headed into day two with everything to lose. More on that in the next chapter…
Saturday, September 8, 2007
It's really happening
I was standing there next to the nearly completed race car in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn in St. John's sort of basking in the thought of actually being in Targa Newfoundland. As I swooned away I thought to pinch myself to end my momentary reverie. However, ‘twasn't necessary, in my lapse I dropped the wrench I was holding on my foot and that ended any halcyon moments for the time being.
Besides, there was work to be done! Thankfully little, and easily accomplished, for the excitement has begun to overtake my senses. We’re here, and we’re ready. We spent our first day in St. Johns sleeping, which felt exceedingly good, and then doing some final prep on the car, such as wiring up the Terratrip communicators to that we can actually hear one another while in the car. Apparently these pace notes (or tulips) are pretty important, eh.
I want to interject for a moment with a clarification. I can hear all of you out there reading this and you’re saying “New-FOUND-land.” Well, stop it, all you Americans, just quit. I’ve tried actually listening to people, and while it’s a strange concept, one of the things I picked up is that the place is pronounced “New-fund-LAND”, with a little inflection on the last syllable. It’s sort of charming. Not in the nasal way people say “Co-lo-RAD-oh” instead of the clearly correct, “Co-lo-Rah-do”, but in a nice Newfie sort of way.
Back to the story.
So, we finished that stuff up by Friday afternoon and ran some errands to get a few things including octane booster. It seems that “hi-test” gasoline around here is 91 octane, so we’ll be using additives for the duration. This involved a search of St. John’s, during which we found another endangered species. A Wal-Mart of which you can see the back wall from the front. I know, how 1993. It’s just a regular Wal-Mart, not a SuperCenter, or a GroceryMogul, or any building capable of hosting the Super Bowl, should all of the beach chairs in the sporting good section be unfolded. It was sort of refreshing, although the dire situation of the US Dollar against the Canadian Dollar meant that we couldn’t have any real Wal-Sprees or anything like that. So, we just got what we needed and left. Boring, I know, but still nice.
We also took the car out for an exploratory run to see if our ride heights were going to work with the road conditions that are famously “bumpy”. We drove on the TCH and the local roads and the car was working fine, so we decided that deserved lunch. Racing is all about justification. You have to justify the need for new parts, better tires, shinier paint, whatever. By the same token, you have to justify the time lunch takes by attributing great importance to the task you’ve just achieved, imparting such momentousness to it that NOT going to lunch to celebrate would be something of a kick in the shins to all involved.
So, we hit up the excellently quaint and friendly downtown harbor area and found a sandwich shop that was sort of a mix of a college hangout/hippie coffeehouse/ and gourmet sandwich place, all stirred together. I had a bagel sandwich with sun-dried cream cheese, smoked salmon, breaded chicken, and apple slices. It was pretty righteous, if you know what I mean. It was also excellent fuel for continuing onward.
Now that the car was ready, and we had run our errands, it was pretty much time to review some notes and hang out. Which we did with aplomb. We found Roy Hopkins and Adrienne Hughes outside and we ran into our friend Ian from the ferry in the hotel bar/restaurant. We sat and told stories and generally got great Targa-related advice until it was time to go to the airport.
I may not have mentioned this before. We had to go to the airport to pick up our crew. Brian Beckett and Greg Snyder agreed to be our crew for this event, but we clearly did something wrong. Everyone else had a crew that drove the truck to the event and then the driver and co-driver flew in when it was time to be here. I’m feeling like we’ve been a bit had. But, anyway, we went to the huge St. John’s regional airport and collected them and were on our way. This was at midnight last night by the way.
So, today was registration. It’s official. You can’t stop me now, I…have a name badge. Get out of my way. We got up early and got through registration and tech rather breezily. No problems other than a cold breakfast sandwich. In the grand scheme of things, that rates right below a minor earthquake and above a good toe-stubbing, so it’s pretty okay.
Once that was done we did the odometer check leg provided for us and that went off without a hitch. Our odo was off by .02 km after 43.05 km of total driving. Not bad at all. I can spit that far.
We spent the balance of the afternoon rearranging the trunk and talking to people in the arena. It’s a cool setup, they park all the cars in the local arena and then the public comes to check them out. We got to show a lot of kids the cars and take their pictures in the driver’s seat and so forth. Pretty fun.
That’s all for now. We’re off to another meet and greet and then we do our first real practice stage tomorrow. And yes, I know, “real practice” is an oxymoron, but it’s my blog, so deal with it.
Cheers, we’re almost there!
Besides, there was work to be done! Thankfully little, and easily accomplished, for the excitement has begun to overtake my senses. We’re here, and we’re ready. We spent our first day in St. Johns sleeping, which felt exceedingly good, and then doing some final prep on the car, such as wiring up the Terratrip communicators to that we can actually hear one another while in the car. Apparently these pace notes (or tulips) are pretty important, eh.
I want to interject for a moment with a clarification. I can hear all of you out there reading this and you’re saying “New-FOUND-land.” Well, stop it, all you Americans, just quit. I’ve tried actually listening to people, and while it’s a strange concept, one of the things I picked up is that the place is pronounced “New-fund-LAND”, with a little inflection on the last syllable. It’s sort of charming. Not in the nasal way people say “Co-lo-RAD-oh” instead of the clearly correct, “Co-lo-Rah-do”, but in a nice Newfie sort of way.
Back to the story.
So, we finished that stuff up by Friday afternoon and ran some errands to get a few things including octane booster. It seems that “hi-test” gasoline around here is 91 octane, so we’ll be using additives for the duration. This involved a search of St. John’s, during which we found another endangered species. A Wal-Mart of which you can see the back wall from the front. I know, how 1993. It’s just a regular Wal-Mart, not a SuperCenter, or a GroceryMogul, or any building capable of hosting the Super Bowl, should all of the beach chairs in the sporting good section be unfolded. It was sort of refreshing, although the dire situation of the US Dollar against the Canadian Dollar meant that we couldn’t have any real Wal-Sprees or anything like that. So, we just got what we needed and left. Boring, I know, but still nice.
We also took the car out for an exploratory run to see if our ride heights were going to work with the road conditions that are famously “bumpy”. We drove on the TCH and the local roads and the car was working fine, so we decided that deserved lunch. Racing is all about justification. You have to justify the need for new parts, better tires, shinier paint, whatever. By the same token, you have to justify the time lunch takes by attributing great importance to the task you’ve just achieved, imparting such momentousness to it that NOT going to lunch to celebrate would be something of a kick in the shins to all involved.
So, we hit up the excellently quaint and friendly downtown harbor area and found a sandwich shop that was sort of a mix of a college hangout/hippie coffeehouse/ and gourmet sandwich place, all stirred together. I had a bagel sandwich with sun-dried cream cheese, smoked salmon, breaded chicken, and apple slices. It was pretty righteous, if you know what I mean. It was also excellent fuel for continuing onward.
Now that the car was ready, and we had run our errands, it was pretty much time to review some notes and hang out. Which we did with aplomb. We found Roy Hopkins and Adrienne Hughes outside and we ran into our friend Ian from the ferry in the hotel bar/restaurant. We sat and told stories and generally got great Targa-related advice until it was time to go to the airport.
I may not have mentioned this before. We had to go to the airport to pick up our crew. Brian Beckett and Greg Snyder agreed to be our crew for this event, but we clearly did something wrong. Everyone else had a crew that drove the truck to the event and then the driver and co-driver flew in when it was time to be here. I’m feeling like we’ve been a bit had. But, anyway, we went to the huge St. John’s regional airport and collected them and were on our way. This was at midnight last night by the way.
So, today was registration. It’s official. You can’t stop me now, I…have a name badge. Get out of my way. We got up early and got through registration and tech rather breezily. No problems other than a cold breakfast sandwich. In the grand scheme of things, that rates right below a minor earthquake and above a good toe-stubbing, so it’s pretty okay.
Once that was done we did the odometer check leg provided for us and that went off without a hitch. Our odo was off by .02 km after 43.05 km of total driving. Not bad at all. I can spit that far.
We spent the balance of the afternoon rearranging the trunk and talking to people in the arena. It’s a cool setup, they park all the cars in the local arena and then the public comes to check them out. We got to show a lot of kids the cars and take their pictures in the driver’s seat and so forth. Pretty fun.
That’s all for now. We’re off to another meet and greet and then we do our first real practice stage tomorrow. And yes, I know, “real practice” is an oxymoron, but it’s my blog, so deal with it.
Cheers, we’re almost there!
Take a Gander
Or, maybe go past Paradise for a saintly time, John.
I realize I’ve been a bit lax in my duties lately, but it’s all for a good cause. I’ve been working diligently with Nick and our new arrivals on the race car.
You see, the last update came from the ferry-side in (no fairy jokes, children) North Sydney, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia (long name, eh?). Turn out it’s the #2 travel destination in the world, according to the sign by the ferry. We found it to be pretty, nice, quaint, and we really weren’t there very long.
What was sort of long was the ferry ride. Yep, a coupla’ ferries. It took 6 hours aboard the MV Caribou to get to Port-aux-Basques, NL, which was rather scenic, and in the current vein of the trip, cold. On the ferry we met the guys from Loose Tools Motorsports, with their Caterham Super Seven and their Datsun 510. Hi Neil and Ian! We also met Chris the Cameraman, so hopefully he’ll make us moderately famous somewhere.
Now, the ferry ride was nice, we had a good view, I got to read some and take a nap, but then I decided to get up and wander. Here’s the problem. I went in to the gift shop to see what sorts of things would be offered for sale on a ferry between two places I knew little about, other than the people seem quite tall (in depth, I know). I found the usual sorts of trinkets; shot glasses, coffee mugs, obscenely overpriced CDs, gummy candy shaped like lobsters (I almost bought some really), and cans of salted fish. That’s not a typo. Typos aren’t that long. The can was about the size of a cashew can, and apparently filled with dried salted fish. I was sort of morbidly enthralled with this concept and I wanted nothing more than to see what canned, salted fish looked like, but the actuality of it escaped me due to the total opacity of the can. In the end the overbearing grossitude of such a thing won and I backed slowly out of the gift shop, completely free of trinkets and hilarious candy. I’m just now able to talk about it.
Anyway, it was time to go ashore, which we did without getting wet even. Great success! We immediately hit the road and started making Newfie tracks. Despite the considerable obstacle of a large body of cold water, the Trans Canada Highway runs resolutely from Nova Scotia right on across Newfoundland. Which is good, because if the roads were much smaller we just wouldn’t have made it.
Here’s the tricky part. It’s where I get to complain about beautiful scenery. I know, go back to Texas you unappreciative cow-kissing oaf. But really, every time we would crest a hill (and there are lots) we would be greeted with yet another idyllic expanse of virgin forest, crystalline lakes, smiling beavers, tweeting bluebirds, and apple cheeked youngsters. I may have made up some of that, but you get the idea. The problem is, how many times can you see that and still go, “Oooh, aaaah,” like the appropriately appreciative tourist you’re supposed to be? I’ll tell you. 6 hours is about my limit. That’s 437 expansive views, unspoiled and untouched, by man or by me. I really just wanted to pull over and go fishing, or maybe hike a trail, or sit and enjoy the piney goodness. But no, let’s keep driving. So we did and I hated the scenery just a little for moving so quickly backwards. I shall have to come back and love it all over again another time.
If you don’t like long windedness you probably wouldn’t have read this far anyway, but I’ll warn you that there’s more. Good for you if you’re still here. That’s tenacity right there. Targa style!
Finally though, after a hearty dinner at Jungle Jim’s in Gander, we plunged through the night and made it to St. John’s at around 12:40 pm and easily found the Holiday Inn, at which point we crashed rather heavily. Of note, we passed the 3k mile mark on this leg of the trip. Yep, we drove over 3000 miles just to get TO the race. What did Nick say the other day? Ah, I forget…
What did I learn in our trip across Newfoundland?
First, it’s possible to get tired of extreme beauty, which was sort of a bummer, but I’m okay now.
Second, there’s a place called Nosy Nick’s Cove in the north of the island that we won’t be going unfortunately, because that would be a great photo-op.
Third, it’s cold here in September. Like 36 degrees at night cold. Like, we are worried about the water in the engine freezing over night cold. Being from Texas, the occasional cold snap is always sort of a welcome relief from the continual furnace blasting we get from our solar cohort, but it’s usually just a freak thing and we think a “Cold Snap” with capital letters in September is a day in the 60s or something. I have to say that it being 36 degrees in September is unseemly. Not just a little unseemly like the otherwise reasonable neighbor who walks out to get his paper in his boxers every Sunday morning. I’m talking unseemly like the overweight French guy neighbor who comes out every morning to get the paper in his “euro-skivvies” and tank top and bends all the way over to pick it up. That’s unseemly.
Finally, I have a serious discovery to put forth. There are no moose in Newfoundland. It’s true. I know, I know, you’ll say that Newfoundland and indeed all of Canada is famous for its moose. I’ve heard all the stories, I’ve even seen the doctored photos and green-screen movies used as evidence, but I’m here to give it all a good debunking. I’ve been driving past “Moose on Road” and “Moose Warning” signs since Maine (Tuesday night for those wondering), and I have yet to see any moose. We drove for four hours through the chilly blackness of a Newfie night and saw nary a moose. I would suggest that the province is suffering from a case of “Mooselessness”. It’s a new condition I’ve discovered that is mental, economical, and mammal. Everyone believes there are moose, and indeed much of the economy seems to be based on the purveyance of moose related gewgaws, but the fact remains that there are no moose here, at least not outside the petting zoo. They have moose at petting zoos, right?
Next post, something actually car related…
I realize I’ve been a bit lax in my duties lately, but it’s all for a good cause. I’ve been working diligently with Nick and our new arrivals on the race car.
You see, the last update came from the ferry-side in (no fairy jokes, children) North Sydney, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia (long name, eh?). Turn out it’s the #2 travel destination in the world, according to the sign by the ferry. We found it to be pretty, nice, quaint, and we really weren’t there very long.
What was sort of long was the ferry ride. Yep, a coupla’ ferries. It took 6 hours aboard the MV Caribou to get to Port-aux-Basques, NL, which was rather scenic, and in the current vein of the trip, cold. On the ferry we met the guys from Loose Tools Motorsports, with their Caterham Super Seven and their Datsun 510. Hi Neil and Ian! We also met Chris the Cameraman, so hopefully he’ll make us moderately famous somewhere.
Now, the ferry ride was nice, we had a good view, I got to read some and take a nap, but then I decided to get up and wander. Here’s the problem. I went in to the gift shop to see what sorts of things would be offered for sale on a ferry between two places I knew little about, other than the people seem quite tall (in depth, I know). I found the usual sorts of trinkets; shot glasses, coffee mugs, obscenely overpriced CDs, gummy candy shaped like lobsters (I almost bought some really), and cans of salted fish. That’s not a typo. Typos aren’t that long. The can was about the size of a cashew can, and apparently filled with dried salted fish. I was sort of morbidly enthralled with this concept and I wanted nothing more than to see what canned, salted fish looked like, but the actuality of it escaped me due to the total opacity of the can. In the end the overbearing grossitude of such a thing won and I backed slowly out of the gift shop, completely free of trinkets and hilarious candy. I’m just now able to talk about it.
Anyway, it was time to go ashore, which we did without getting wet even. Great success! We immediately hit the road and started making Newfie tracks. Despite the considerable obstacle of a large body of cold water, the Trans Canada Highway runs resolutely from Nova Scotia right on across Newfoundland. Which is good, because if the roads were much smaller we just wouldn’t have made it.
Here’s the tricky part. It’s where I get to complain about beautiful scenery. I know, go back to Texas you unappreciative cow-kissing oaf. But really, every time we would crest a hill (and there are lots) we would be greeted with yet another idyllic expanse of virgin forest, crystalline lakes, smiling beavers, tweeting bluebirds, and apple cheeked youngsters. I may have made up some of that, but you get the idea. The problem is, how many times can you see that and still go, “Oooh, aaaah,” like the appropriately appreciative tourist you’re supposed to be? I’ll tell you. 6 hours is about my limit. That’s 437 expansive views, unspoiled and untouched, by man or by me. I really just wanted to pull over and go fishing, or maybe hike a trail, or sit and enjoy the piney goodness. But no, let’s keep driving. So we did and I hated the scenery just a little for moving so quickly backwards. I shall have to come back and love it all over again another time.
If you don’t like long windedness you probably wouldn’t have read this far anyway, but I’ll warn you that there’s more. Good for you if you’re still here. That’s tenacity right there. Targa style!
Finally though, after a hearty dinner at Jungle Jim’s in Gander, we plunged through the night and made it to St. John’s at around 12:40 pm and easily found the Holiday Inn, at which point we crashed rather heavily. Of note, we passed the 3k mile mark on this leg of the trip. Yep, we drove over 3000 miles just to get TO the race. What did Nick say the other day? Ah, I forget…
What did I learn in our trip across Newfoundland?
First, it’s possible to get tired of extreme beauty, which was sort of a bummer, but I’m okay now.
Second, there’s a place called Nosy Nick’s Cove in the north of the island that we won’t be going unfortunately, because that would be a great photo-op.
Third, it’s cold here in September. Like 36 degrees at night cold. Like, we are worried about the water in the engine freezing over night cold. Being from Texas, the occasional cold snap is always sort of a welcome relief from the continual furnace blasting we get from our solar cohort, but it’s usually just a freak thing and we think a “Cold Snap” with capital letters in September is a day in the 60s or something. I have to say that it being 36 degrees in September is unseemly. Not just a little unseemly like the otherwise reasonable neighbor who walks out to get his paper in his boxers every Sunday morning. I’m talking unseemly like the overweight French guy neighbor who comes out every morning to get the paper in his “euro-skivvies” and tank top and bends all the way over to pick it up. That’s unseemly.
Finally, I have a serious discovery to put forth. There are no moose in Newfoundland. It’s true. I know, I know, you’ll say that Newfoundland and indeed all of Canada is famous for its moose. I’ve heard all the stories, I’ve even seen the doctored photos and green-screen movies used as evidence, but I’m here to give it all a good debunking. I’ve been driving past “Moose on Road” and “Moose Warning” signs since Maine (Tuesday night for those wondering), and I have yet to see any moose. We drove for four hours through the chilly blackness of a Newfie night and saw nary a moose. I would suggest that the province is suffering from a case of “Mooselessness”. It’s a new condition I’ve discovered that is mental, economical, and mammal. Everyone believes there are moose, and indeed much of the economy seems to be based on the purveyance of moose related gewgaws, but the fact remains that there are no moose here, at least not outside the petting zoo. They have moose at petting zoos, right?
Next post, something actually car related…
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
First Update!
North Sydney, Nova Scotia, 2680 miles from home.
If anyone tells you that one cannot drive from Fort Worth, TX to North Sydney, Nova Scotia, Canada in under 48 hours, not only are they wrong, they’re so wrong that you should point at them and laugh, shaking your head as if you’re dealing with a simpleton beyond amazement.
I say this with such confidence because in fact Nick and I have just accomplished the same, despite the chain of events that I will from now on refer to as, "The Goodyear Conspiracy." Let us just say that not all tires are your benign partners in rolling safely down the road. We had our first blowout in Arlington, TX. Now, for those of you not sitting in front of a map (it’s okay, Americans are no good at this), Arlington is so close to Fort Worth as to practically be before the beginning of the trip. To add insult to injury, we were literally merging onto the highway after having checked and properly inflated all six trailer tires and four truck tires.
This particular tire let go with an audible "Poof!" and, upon stopping, we found that a baseball sized patch was missing from the sidewall. Your faithful narrator had thoughtfully gotten a spare spare, so we threw the spare on and headed for Pep Boys in Dallas to get the other spare mounted on the now available rim. With this easily dispatched, we were back on the road.
For a very little while, as it were. We made it to exit 142, County Line Rd. I don’t know which county, or where the line went, but that’s where we lost tire number two on the trailer. We changed that flat with our last spare in a rest stop under the watchful eye of the fanny pack and visor crowd and were on our way again.
Despite the fact that we were now up to a ratio of 1/3 brand new tires to old tires, we were not feeling too confident. We began the hunt for more spares. I have thus far not mentioned that this was Labor Day and we were rapidly approaching the vast emptiness of Arkansas. A quick call to our pit crew (sitting at home, eating bon bons no doubt) revealed the availability of some of the very same trailer tires at a Wal-Mart in Texarkana. The astute among you will surmise that this place is a border town of sorts and we made a run for it.
We spent an hour at the Wal-Mart while they exchanged some of Nick’s valuable legal tender for 3 new trailer tires and mounting services. Make note, this will be the longest stop, from 5pm to 6pm, of the trip until arriving at the ferry terminal in Nova Scotia.
Having exorcised our demons with time, money, and a generous offering of Wal-Mart finger foods, we then set off on our nearly trouble free portions of the trip. Nick took over the driving duties at this point and headed off into the torrential rain to be found to the east. This would be the only substantial trouble we would have from this point onward.
I do have to say that Nick looks very businesslike while driving in a yellow slicker, hat and all. Very Captain Ahab. He managed to get all of the rainy stints on the trip, and we did share the dark hours pretty evenly.
This is the boring part. For the intervening 30 odd hours from Texas to Canada, almost nothing happened. Really. I saw a car, once we stopped for diesel, plus nine more times, and we stopped for McDonald’s in Pennsylvania. We may or may not have also taken "road showers" in the bathroom there near Harrisburg, PA.
I may have mentioned that the hour at Wal-Mart was the only extended stop of the trip, and that’s true. No hotels, no long meals, no nothing. Just diesel and driving, and lots of beef jerky.
Day Two of the trip dawned in the early morning tendrils of the foggy bottoms near Bristol, TN. I had just taken the wheel once again and as Nick curled himself up in the camper section of the truck (read: back seat with pillow), he remarked that he finally agreed that we were crazy. I noted the time, 6:09am EST. We had only been driving seventeen hours straight at that point. There were thirty more to go. Don't you call me crazy yet! Leave that to everyone else.
Important Travel Tip: Spraying Febreze on one another after a full day in the car with no other smell remediation efforts is actually fairly effective. Try it. Your parents/kids/significant other (whichever applies) won't mind unless they're awake.
We made it through the east reasonably quickly due to the ever shrinking size of the states over there. They get really tiny by the time you get very far north. The problem of course is that despite their diminutiveness, these places are increasingly packed with people driving cars equipped with multiple horns and no turn signals. It must be a factory option out east. The people like to swerve and brake and honk, seemingly at random, with imaginable results.
This is usually just somewhat annoying, maybe even comical. But, as we approached New York City (everyone remembers that Pace picante commercial, right? Because that’s how I was saying it for hours as we drove across Pennsylvania and New Jersey) we crested a rise at the exit for I-95 and the Holland Tunnel and traffic was at a dead stop.
This is also predictable and not hugely surprising, except for the fact that we were doing 75 with a large trailer attached to the posterior of the truck. I hate to call it panic braking, so let’s call it mild hysteria braking, or possibly "Just this side of damp underpants braking". As we slowed and came to a stop just clear of the car stopped ahead of us, we noticed a clear smell of hot brakes.
Fine, except for smoke is usually bad. There’s a proverb about that, I’m pretty sure. The right rear wheel was billowing smoke. It doesn’t usually do that. Here’s where our crack mechanical skills came into play and we waited it out. It stopped…eventually.
We made it across NYC in an hour and then hit the moonscape of Connecticut. These roads are a new level of bad, but again, it’s a small place. New Hampshire was even smaller and Massachusetts disappeared into the night. I took over the wheel at a truck stop in Maine and we were shocked to find out that the temperature had gone from 96 to 46. Brrrr. Make that double brrrr.
Maine was something of a surprise in that it was big, and so it took while to cross, but it was also empty. Seriously, almost empty. I passed something like 4 cars in 4 hours. It was also dark and cold. The overnight low according to my flawless Ford thermometer was 38 degrees. It was September 4th. For real. Yipes. And get this, I saw at least a dozen signs warning of all the moose in the area, and I saw not one moose! We drove across Maine, and then Canada for twelve hours with no moose. Just a couple deer and some small foxes.
But, after stopping at the border and registering the race car with US Customs, we were on our way on the final 8 hours of the first part of the trip. New Brunswick and Nova Scotia were relatively empty and plain, but once we passed onto Cape Breton we hit some really scenic and interesting places along Canada’s Inland Sea. I knew nothing about this place and it was quite a nice surprise. Lots of stunning views and quaint little towns led us to North Sydney, adjacent to the Newfoundland Ferry Terminal.
Total drive time including tire woes: 47 hours.
We’re off again at 6am for a 5-7 hour trip to Port-Aux-Basques and our drive across the island of Newfoundland.
All this and the real fun hasn’t even started yet.
If anyone tells you that one cannot drive from Fort Worth, TX to North Sydney, Nova Scotia, Canada in under 48 hours, not only are they wrong, they’re so wrong that you should point at them and laugh, shaking your head as if you’re dealing with a simpleton beyond amazement.
I say this with such confidence because in fact Nick and I have just accomplished the same, despite the chain of events that I will from now on refer to as, "The Goodyear Conspiracy." Let us just say that not all tires are your benign partners in rolling safely down the road. We had our first blowout in Arlington, TX. Now, for those of you not sitting in front of a map (it’s okay, Americans are no good at this), Arlington is so close to Fort Worth as to practically be before the beginning of the trip. To add insult to injury, we were literally merging onto the highway after having checked and properly inflated all six trailer tires and four truck tires.
This particular tire let go with an audible "Poof!" and, upon stopping, we found that a baseball sized patch was missing from the sidewall. Your faithful narrator had thoughtfully gotten a spare spare, so we threw the spare on and headed for Pep Boys in Dallas to get the other spare mounted on the now available rim. With this easily dispatched, we were back on the road.
For a very little while, as it were. We made it to exit 142, County Line Rd. I don’t know which county, or where the line went, but that’s where we lost tire number two on the trailer. We changed that flat with our last spare in a rest stop under the watchful eye of the fanny pack and visor crowd and were on our way again.
Despite the fact that we were now up to a ratio of 1/3 brand new tires to old tires, we were not feeling too confident. We began the hunt for more spares. I have thus far not mentioned that this was Labor Day and we were rapidly approaching the vast emptiness of Arkansas. A quick call to our pit crew (sitting at home, eating bon bons no doubt) revealed the availability of some of the very same trailer tires at a Wal-Mart in Texarkana. The astute among you will surmise that this place is a border town of sorts and we made a run for it.
We spent an hour at the Wal-Mart while they exchanged some of Nick’s valuable legal tender for 3 new trailer tires and mounting services. Make note, this will be the longest stop, from 5pm to 6pm, of the trip until arriving at the ferry terminal in Nova Scotia.
Having exorcised our demons with time, money, and a generous offering of Wal-Mart finger foods, we then set off on our nearly trouble free portions of the trip. Nick took over the driving duties at this point and headed off into the torrential rain to be found to the east. This would be the only substantial trouble we would have from this point onward.
I do have to say that Nick looks very businesslike while driving in a yellow slicker, hat and all. Very Captain Ahab. He managed to get all of the rainy stints on the trip, and we did share the dark hours pretty evenly.
This is the boring part. For the intervening 30 odd hours from Texas to Canada, almost nothing happened. Really. I saw a car, once we stopped for diesel, plus nine more times, and we stopped for McDonald’s in Pennsylvania. We may or may not have also taken "road showers" in the bathroom there near Harrisburg, PA.
I may have mentioned that the hour at Wal-Mart was the only extended stop of the trip, and that’s true. No hotels, no long meals, no nothing. Just diesel and driving, and lots of beef jerky.
Day Two of the trip dawned in the early morning tendrils of the foggy bottoms near Bristol, TN. I had just taken the wheel once again and as Nick curled himself up in the camper section of the truck (read: back seat with pillow), he remarked that he finally agreed that we were crazy. I noted the time, 6:09am EST. We had only been driving seventeen hours straight at that point. There were thirty more to go. Don't you call me crazy yet! Leave that to everyone else.
Important Travel Tip: Spraying Febreze on one another after a full day in the car with no other smell remediation efforts is actually fairly effective. Try it. Your parents/kids/significant other (whichever applies) won't mind unless they're awake.
We made it through the east reasonably quickly due to the ever shrinking size of the states over there. They get really tiny by the time you get very far north. The problem of course is that despite their diminutiveness, these places are increasingly packed with people driving cars equipped with multiple horns and no turn signals. It must be a factory option out east. The people like to swerve and brake and honk, seemingly at random, with imaginable results.
This is usually just somewhat annoying, maybe even comical. But, as we approached New York City (everyone remembers that Pace picante commercial, right? Because that’s how I was saying it for hours as we drove across Pennsylvania and New Jersey) we crested a rise at the exit for I-95 and the Holland Tunnel and traffic was at a dead stop.
This is also predictable and not hugely surprising, except for the fact that we were doing 75 with a large trailer attached to the posterior of the truck. I hate to call it panic braking, so let’s call it mild hysteria braking, or possibly "Just this side of damp underpants braking". As we slowed and came to a stop just clear of the car stopped ahead of us, we noticed a clear smell of hot brakes.
Fine, except for smoke is usually bad. There’s a proverb about that, I’m pretty sure. The right rear wheel was billowing smoke. It doesn’t usually do that. Here’s where our crack mechanical skills came into play and we waited it out. It stopped…eventually.
We made it across NYC in an hour and then hit the moonscape of Connecticut. These roads are a new level of bad, but again, it’s a small place. New Hampshire was even smaller and Massachusetts disappeared into the night. I took over the wheel at a truck stop in Maine and we were shocked to find out that the temperature had gone from 96 to 46. Brrrr. Make that double brrrr.
Maine was something of a surprise in that it was big, and so it took while to cross, but it was also empty. Seriously, almost empty. I passed something like 4 cars in 4 hours. It was also dark and cold. The overnight low according to my flawless Ford thermometer was 38 degrees. It was September 4th. For real. Yipes. And get this, I saw at least a dozen signs warning of all the moose in the area, and I saw not one moose! We drove across Maine, and then Canada for twelve hours with no moose. Just a couple deer and some small foxes.
But, after stopping at the border and registering the race car with US Customs, we were on our way on the final 8 hours of the first part of the trip. New Brunswick and Nova Scotia were relatively empty and plain, but once we passed onto Cape Breton we hit some really scenic and interesting places along Canada’s Inland Sea. I knew nothing about this place and it was quite a nice surprise. Lots of stunning views and quaint little towns led us to North Sydney, adjacent to the Newfoundland Ferry Terminal.
Total drive time including tire woes: 47 hours.
We’re off again at 6am for a 5-7 hour trip to Port-Aux-Basques and our drive across the island of Newfoundland.
All this and the real fun hasn’t even started yet.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Zero Hour
Well, it is nearing the time when we must go. Go North, that is.
You see, Newfoundland is just this side of China, or Greenland anyway. They're all so far as to defy comprehension, so why try? What I do know, is that we're driving somewhere in the middle of the ocean. This seems counterintuitive, I know. Luckily, an enterprising Nova Scotian (don't you think "New Scooter" is a bit catchier? I do.) somewhere in the past decided that he'd like to take his car to see his cousins in Newfoundland and started a ferry service. So, we'll be driving 2600 miles for a boat ride.
Seriously though, tonight is the last night of wrenching on the car and finalizing details. This weekend is "Load the Trailerfest", admisson is free, strong arms encouraged. Then, Sunday afternoon, we hit the road.
These sorts of journeys are always a bit anticlimactic, at least in the short run, because the first place you arrive upon exiting Texas is Arkansas...not exactly the ideal destination location. But, being almost east of the Mississippi, it's one of them 'itty bitty' states that only takes about 5 hours to cross, so it's easily dispatched.
We're leaving and we're not coming back for another month, or at least we're not coming back until it's a different month. Nick Papayianis and I (Will Atkinson) are towing the race car, a 1988 BMW M3 to Newfoundland for the Targa Newfoundland. http://www.targanewfoundland.com/
We have a faithful crew in Greg Snyder and Brian Beckett flying up to man the support vehicle and eat all of our beef jerky. The event starts on September 8th, so hopefully we'll be there and be ready by then.
Keep your eyes peeled for updates, pictures, and video. We're taking a raft of photo equipment and even a computer, so hopefully we'll be able to avail ourselves of some sort of connection to the wider web. Post comments and questions, keeping in mind that we already know this is a stupid idea and our mothers are sure we're going to be eaten by a moose.
That's all for now, more soon. Very soon.
You see, Newfoundland is just this side of China, or Greenland anyway. They're all so far as to defy comprehension, so why try? What I do know, is that we're driving somewhere in the middle of the ocean. This seems counterintuitive, I know. Luckily, an enterprising Nova Scotian (don't you think "New Scooter" is a bit catchier? I do.) somewhere in the past decided that he'd like to take his car to see his cousins in Newfoundland and started a ferry service. So, we'll be driving 2600 miles for a boat ride.
Seriously though, tonight is the last night of wrenching on the car and finalizing details. This weekend is "Load the Trailerfest", admisson is free, strong arms encouraged. Then, Sunday afternoon, we hit the road.
These sorts of journeys are always a bit anticlimactic, at least in the short run, because the first place you arrive upon exiting Texas is Arkansas...not exactly the ideal destination location. But, being almost east of the Mississippi, it's one of them 'itty bitty' states that only takes about 5 hours to cross, so it's easily dispatched.
We're leaving and we're not coming back for another month, or at least we're not coming back until it's a different month. Nick Papayianis and I (Will Atkinson) are towing the race car, a 1988 BMW M3 to Newfoundland for the Targa Newfoundland. http://www.targanewfoundland.com/
We have a faithful crew in Greg Snyder and Brian Beckett flying up to man the support vehicle and eat all of our beef jerky. The event starts on September 8th, so hopefully we'll be there and be ready by then.
Keep your eyes peeled for updates, pictures, and video. We're taking a raft of photo equipment and even a computer, so hopefully we'll be able to avail ourselves of some sort of connection to the wider web. Post comments and questions, keeping in mind that we already know this is a stupid idea and our mothers are sure we're going to be eaten by a moose.
That's all for now, more soon. Very soon.
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