Last week I managed to get around to posting my first article of the year and here I am, already posting my second! I am making an effort to catch up – not that anyone really relies on my blog, but please indulge me anyway.
My last post was a bit of a ramble and I want to make this a bit more targeted. Firstly, Safety Cars. A new procedure was introduced this year at Le Mans to handle Safety Car interventions. Briefly, the procedure involved sending out three Safety Cars (as normal) onto the track initially, to neutralise the field as quickly as possible. They would continue to circulate, and the pit lane entry would remain open, for as long as it took to clear the incident. The pit lane exit would be closed, until the end of the line of cars following a Safety Car went past.
So far, no change from the way it has worked in previous years. However, once the incident that caused the Safety Car had been cleared, a new process was introduced, with the aim of getting the cars lined up behind the leader of each class, with each class in a separate group. This consisted of three stages: one, the ‘merge’ – removing two Safety Cars and leaving the field backed up behind the remaining one; two, the ‘wave-by’, where every car whose class leader is behind it is allowed to pass the Safety Car and catch up with the tail of the field; and three, the ‘drop back’, where first the LMP2 cars, and then the GTE-Am cars fell to the back of the line of cars.
If it takes a while to explain, it takes even longer to execute, and relies on everyone knowing what they’re doing. Personally, I thought it was a recipe for confusion and chaos; but in practice it worked pretty well. The objective was achieved and all the cars lined up in their right class positions. The main issue was the time it took to happen. Although we had three Safety Car interludes, the first one came directly after the start of the race, so the cars were just about in class order anyway. Even then, it took an additional 14m 25s between the incident being declared ‘cleared’ and the green flag being waved. The following two uses of the Safety Car took, respectively, 34m 10s and 23m 56s. That’s a total of 1h 12m 31s of potential racing time lost, while cars were ‘faffing around’ getting themselves sorted into the right order, quite aside from the actual job of getting the incident cleared. If we would have had four classes, as in previous years, it would have taken even longer.
Apart from the time taken though, is the philosophical question of whether closing the field up behind the leader is the ‘right’ thing to do. I must admit I tend to count myself among the many hoping, as Richard Williams put it in this month’s Motor Sport magazine, “never… to see the integrity of a historic race threatened by practices borrowed from Daytona and Sebring”. The trouble is that without these practices, the field may get artificially spread out, and in these days of artificial performance-balanced racing, it is tough to come back if you do find yourself half-a-lap down.
The Spa 24 hours uses a ‘Full Course Yellow’ procedure, followed by a Safety Car, achieving the same end in a different way. The difference in SRO racing is that although it is multi-class, the classes are based on the crew composition, not the car performance, so no account is taken of the classes when sorting out the order of the cars behind the leader. So then it is pot luck whether you have your ‘ace’ driver in the car at the time of the appearance of the Safety Car or not.
I have just returned from Estoril, where Creventic were running one of their 24H Series races – a 12-hour encounter which had a 6-hour Qualification Race beforehand. Creventic do not use a Safety Car at all, but neutralise the field using ‘Code-60’ when necessary. This is a slower version of SRO’s Full Course Yellow, (operating at 60km/h rather than 80km/h) but it is restarted directly with a green flag, leaving the cars where they are, theoretically at least, when the signal to restart is given. Interestingly, this also leads to accusations of unfairness, as an awful lot can depend on the timing of the Code-60; how much fuel you have aboard, how close you are to the pit entry and whether there is a fuel pump available. Inevitably, the organisers are looking at ways of improving the process.
I mentioned Howden Haynes in my last post, and I’ll mention him again now. His objective was always to set the car up to be at its optimum at the end of the race, not at the start. It’s an especially sensible policy if you’ve got a Safety Car rule which bunches up the field.
It's not really fair to compare the Spa and Le Mans 24 hour races, but just because I can, here are some statistics. I include the Creventic race at Estoril for interest:
- Le Mans had 24 changes of lead among 8 different cars, representing five different brands;
- Spa had 68 changes of lead among 19 different cars, representing seven different brands;
- Estoril had 4 changes of lead among 4 different cars, representing three different brands (in a 12-hour race).
In addition
- Le Mans had 3 Safety Car periods, and 5 Full Course Yellows accounting for 3h 37m
- Spa had 9 Safety Car periods and 8 Full Course Yellows accounting for 4h 47m
- Estoril had 6 Code-60 periods accounting for 31m (in a 12-hour race)
Track Limits are becoming a bit of a theme, not just in Formula 1, but also at Le Mans as well as at Spa. At Spa, more than 2500 race control messages related to track limit offences.
At Le Mans, 801 messages from race control warned of track limit offences.
At Estoril, drivers were told in their briefing that the blue and white kerbs formed part of the track, and that, provided they did not stray beyond that limit with all four wheels, then they would not be penalised. It was fully appreciated that this was a more lenient approach, but the Race Control staff realised that spending too much time assessing Track Limit offences would possibly lead them to overlooking other, more serious safety issues. Hence their approach and there were only 23 warnings given and six 10-second penalties issued for track limit violations – and one of those was later cancelled.
These kinds of comparisons are futile, of course, and irrelevant for a number of reasons, not least because of the amateur nature of the entrants in Creventic races compared with the professionalism of Le Mans. But they may give some cause for consideration somewhere.
Showing posts with label Creventic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creventic. Show all posts
Saturday, 15 July 2023
Friday, 9 December 2022
Success in Kuwait
Most people reading this will know that I was in Kuwait for Creventic’s inaugural 12-hour race there. And most will, I hope, know that it was a very satisfying race for the Red Camel-Jordans.nl squad, for whom I was Team Manager. We came third overall, due mainly to a high rate of attrition in the top, GT3 and GTX classes, but equally importantly, we won the 992 class for Porsche 992 Cup cars, doing so, it has to be said, rather against the odds.
The competition was very strong: in qualifying, the Willi Motorsport Porsche (no. 955), beat us to class pole with its two very quick ‘Semi-Pro’ drivers, Sergiu Nicolae and Sabino de Castro and the less quick Fabrizio Broggi. Not far behind us on the grid was the Rabdan/Speed Lover-entered car (no. 979), which had the very quick Enrico Fernando Fulgenzi on its crew, and three cars from HRT Performance (nos. 928, 929 and 930).
In the race, our pace was good, but we could not live with the performance and agility of the Willi Motorsport car. It was able to brake much later than us, and carry more speed through the corners – according to Ivo, “it seemed as though it was on rails”.
It had a slightly different front end compared to our car: as the pictures below show. Article 9 in Chapter 3 of the Technical Regulations describes “allowed modifications for the purpose of brake cooling”, and specifies the dimensions of holes in the front bumper, but does not describe holes above the bumper. The car passed scrutineering though, so whatever Willi Motorsport had done, was obviously extremely effective!
On the grid, Rob, our chief mechanic, noticed that the Willi Motorsport car also had much thinner brake pads than we did. It was a clue that they might need to stop for a change, which of course they did, with a little over two-and-a-half hours of the race to go. The stop cost them less than four minutes, but they were unlucky, in that although they started the stop under code-60, it went green before they were back under way.
With ten minutes remaining in the race, the gap between our car and Sergiu Nicolae in the 955 was 3m 52s. At this point, Nicolae slowed his pace, realising that the chase was fruitless, allowing the gap to increase again.
It’s interesting to look at the average lap times per driver:
As you can see, de Castro and Nicolae were lapping at least a second per lap quicker than either Rik or Luc (who did 46 laps fewer than the combined total of Nicolae and de Castro). Notice as well that Luc’s average lap time is over a second slower than Rik’s. And although Ivo’s average was 1.3s per lap quicker than Broggi, it’s interesting that Ivo did 49 laps more.
The average lap time for all drivers combined of the Willi Motorsport car was 1m 58.4s, compared to 1m 59.9s for Red Camel. That difference of 1.5s over 318 laps, means that if everything else remained equal, Willi would have nearly eight minutes of an advantage!
So how did we win? As in many an endurance race, it comes down to the time spent in the pits. The Willi Motorsport car spent 39m 26s in the pits, compared to Red Camel, who despite making 12 stops, compared to Willi’s 10, spent only 35m 06s in the pit lane. But that still doesn’t account for the eight-minute difference. To explain that, it is necessary to look at when the pit stops were made, and the use that we made of the Code-60 periods. To analyse this, I drew up a table showing ‘time in pits during green’ vs ‘time in pits during Code-60’, and came up with the following. Firstly, the numbers for Red Camel:
This gives a total pit stop time under green of 19m 23s and a total time during Code-60 of 15m 44s. Now, when taking a penalty during a Code 60, Creventic demands that you take double the original penalty time. So it seems reasonable to halve the time spent in the pit under Code 60 meaning that, our ‘effective’ time in the pits was actually only 19m 23s plus 7m 52s making 27m 15s. For Willi Motorsport, car 955, the same procedure gives:
The total pit stop time under green is 32m 52s, and under code-60 6m 34s, hence an ‘effective’ total time of 36m 09s. So the actual gain for our car in the pits was 8m 54s, which is consistent with Red Camel’s class-winning margin at the chequered flag.
Sadly, Luc was so caught up in the moment at the end of the race, that he didn’t see the chequered flag and I had to assure him over the radio that he actually had finished the race and was third overall. And of course, he then didn’t know where to go, and so there I was, while the team was congratulating one another, having to guide our driver into his well-earned spot under the podium. It was a great effort by everyone concerned, and a result only made possible by the wonderful reliability of our car – a great comeback after the disappointments in Portimão and Barcelona earlier in the season.
The competition was very strong: in qualifying, the Willi Motorsport Porsche (no. 955), beat us to class pole with its two very quick ‘Semi-Pro’ drivers, Sergiu Nicolae and Sabino de Castro and the less quick Fabrizio Broggi. Not far behind us on the grid was the Rabdan/Speed Lover-entered car (no. 979), which had the very quick Enrico Fernando Fulgenzi on its crew, and three cars from HRT Performance (nos. 928, 929 and 930).
In the race, our pace was good, but we could not live with the performance and agility of the Willi Motorsport car. It was able to brake much later than us, and carry more speed through the corners – according to Ivo, “it seemed as though it was on rails”.
It had a slightly different front end compared to our car: as the pictures below show. Article 9 in Chapter 3 of the Technical Regulations describes “allowed modifications for the purpose of brake cooling”, and specifies the dimensions of holes in the front bumper, but does not describe holes above the bumper. The car passed scrutineering though, so whatever Willi Motorsport had done, was obviously extremely effective!
On the grid, Rob, our chief mechanic, noticed that the Willi Motorsport car also had much thinner brake pads than we did. It was a clue that they might need to stop for a change, which of course they did, with a little over two-and-a-half hours of the race to go. The stop cost them less than four minutes, but they were unlucky, in that although they started the stop under code-60, it went green before they were back under way.
With ten minutes remaining in the race, the gap between our car and Sergiu Nicolae in the 955 was 3m 52s. At this point, Nicolae slowed his pace, realising that the chase was fruitless, allowing the gap to increase again.
It’s interesting to look at the average lap times per driver:
| No. | Car | Driver | Laps | Average lap |
Theoretical best |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 955 | Willi Motorsport | Nicolae | 142 | 1m 57.441s | 1m 54.980s |
| 955 | Willi Motorsport | de Castro | 129 | 1m 58.191s | 1m 55.981s |
| 930 | HRT Performance | Fjordbach | 40 | 1m 58.222s | 1m 56.191s |
| 979 | Rabdan Motorsport | Fulgenzi | 101 | 1m 58.449s | 1m 55.966s |
| 929 | HRT Qatar | Hauschild | 55 | 1m 58.645s | 1m 56.682s |
| 909 | Red Camel | Breukers, R | 71 | 1m 58.646s | 1m 56.045s |
| 909 | Red Camel | Breukers, L | 154 | 1m 59.936s | 1m 57.583s |
| 929 | HRT Qatar | Al Khelaifi | 117 | 2m 00.136s | 1m 57.405s |
| 979 | Rabdan Motorsport | Alameri | 113 | 2m 00.749s | 1m 57.698s |
| 909 | Red Camel | Breukers, I | 93 | 2m 00.901s | 1m 58.200s |
| 930 | HRT Qatar | Al Abdulghani | 108 | 2m 01.136s | 1m 57.292s |
| 930 | HRT Performance | Al Ali | 69 | 2m 01.643s | 1m 57.452s |
| 928 | HRT Performance | Bessem | 140 | 2m 01.655s | 1m 58.885s |
| 928 | HRT Performance | Hilders | 173 | 2m 01.983s | 1m 58.921s |
| 955 | Willi Motorsport | Broggi | 44 | 2m 02.265s | 1m 59.389s |
As you can see, de Castro and Nicolae were lapping at least a second per lap quicker than either Rik or Luc (who did 46 laps fewer than the combined total of Nicolae and de Castro). Notice as well that Luc’s average lap time is over a second slower than Rik’s. And although Ivo’s average was 1.3s per lap quicker than Broggi, it’s interesting that Ivo did 49 laps more.
The average lap time for all drivers combined of the Willi Motorsport car was 1m 58.4s, compared to 1m 59.9s for Red Camel. That difference of 1.5s over 318 laps, means that if everything else remained equal, Willi would have nearly eight minutes of an advantage!
So how did we win? As in many an endurance race, it comes down to the time spent in the pits. The Willi Motorsport car spent 39m 26s in the pits, compared to Red Camel, who despite making 12 stops, compared to Willi’s 10, spent only 35m 06s in the pit lane. But that still doesn’t account for the eight-minute difference. To explain that, it is necessary to look at when the pit stops were made, and the use that we made of the Code-60 periods. To analyse this, I drew up a table showing ‘time in pits during green’ vs ‘time in pits during Code-60’, and came up with the following. Firstly, the numbers for Red Camel:
| Stop | Pit In at | Pit Out at | Time green | Time C60 |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 00:38:59.351 | 00:41:15.632 | 02:16.281 | |
| 2 | 01:59:41.644 | 02:03:53.962 | 04:12.318 | |
| 3 | 02:30:53.253 | 02:32:38.046 | 01:44.793 | |
| 4 | 04:03:48.208 | 04:08:07.060 | 04:18.852 | |
| 5 | 05:09:34.077 | 05:12:35.125 | 03:01.048 | |
| 6 | 06:23:03.318 | 06:26:33.080 | 03:29.762 | |
| 7 | 07:07:01.636 | 07:10:02.877 | 03:01.241 | |
| 8 | 07:15:20.693 | 07:16:58.888 | 01:38.195 | |
| 9 | 08:32:53.945 | 08:37:04.079 | 04:10.134 | |
| 10 | 09:35:14.133 | 09:37:50.836 | 02:36.703 | |
| 11 | 10:14:44.099 | 10:17:55.912 | 03:11.813 | |
| 12 | 11:20:01.150 | 11:21:26.826 | 01:25.676 |
This gives a total pit stop time under green of 19m 23s and a total time during Code-60 of 15m 44s. Now, when taking a penalty during a Code 60, Creventic demands that you take double the original penalty time. So it seems reasonable to halve the time spent in the pit under Code 60 meaning that, our ‘effective’ time in the pits was actually only 19m 23s plus 7m 52s making 27m 15s. For Willi Motorsport, car 955, the same procedure gives:
| Stop | Pit In at | Pit Out at | Time green | Time C60 |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 00:43:14.642 | 00:46:15.044 | 03:00.402 | |
| 2 | 01:31:49.341 | 01:35:09.777 | 03:20.436 | |
| 3 | 02:09:19.228 | 02:11:44.028 | 02:24.800 | |
| 4 | 03:35:10.420 | 03:39:36.122 | 04:25.702 | |
| 5 | 04:56:22.853 | 05:01:10.668 | 04:47.815 | |
| 6 | 06:37:35.168 | 06:42:02.417 | 04:27.249 | |
| 7 | 07:05:17.912 | 07:07:00.637 | 01:42.725 | |
| 8 | 08:36:56.538 | 08:41:36.751 | 03:49.462 | 00:50.751 |
| 9 | 09:21:11.467 | 09:28:03.892 | 05:51.892 | 01:00.533 |
| 10 | 10:47:04.200 | 10:50:48.966 | 03:44.766 |
The total pit stop time under green is 32m 52s, and under code-60 6m 34s, hence an ‘effective’ total time of 36m 09s. So the actual gain for our car in the pits was 8m 54s, which is consistent with Red Camel’s class-winning margin at the chequered flag.
Sadly, Luc was so caught up in the moment at the end of the race, that he didn’t see the chequered flag and I had to assure him over the radio that he actually had finished the race and was third overall. And of course, he then didn’t know where to go, and so there I was, while the team was congratulating one another, having to guide our driver into his well-earned spot under the podium. It was a great effort by everyone concerned, and a result only made possible by the wonderful reliability of our car – a great comeback after the disappointments in Portimão and Barcelona earlier in the season.
Friday, 25 November 2022
Working the strategy...
In a few days’ time I shall be heading out to Kuwait for the final race of my 2022 season. And what a great season it has been. Since being diagnosed with multiple myeloma in 2020 and reaching some pretty low points; this year has surpassed anything that I could have hoped for. Just over two years ago, I was discharged from hospital after a stem cell transplant feeling pretty rough – I had no appetite, little strength and was exhausted after even the smallest of activities. Although my back remains more than five inches shorter than it was, and I rely on medication to keep me going through the days, I am a lot stronger than I was, and have recovered far more of my strength than I once thought possible. Altogether, I’ve been to 19 race events during the course of this year – Kuwait will be the twentieth – and many of those have been on local PA commentary, about which I have written recently on this blog. When I haven’t been occupied doing commentary though, I have been working with the Red Camel-Jordans.nl team at various events in Creventic’s 24H Series.
Creventic’s 2022 calendar has been a busy one: it started in January, in Dubai, where Red Camel ran their relatively recently-acquired Porsche 992 with high hopes following the washout that was the 2021 race. We had enlisted the driving talents of Jeroen Bleekemolen, Julius Adomavičius and Morris Schuring, alongside Team Owner Ivo Breukers.
Clockwise from top left, Ivo Breukers, Jeroen Bleekemolen, Julius Adomavičius and Morris Schuring. Bleekemolen should need no introduction to endurance racing fans: twice an outright winner of the Dubai 24 hours (in a Mercedes), as well as a class winner at Le Mans. Julius, from Lithuania, was just 20 years of age, but had experience of driving LMP3 as well as Touring cars. The youngster of the team was Morris Schuring at just 16, who spent 2021 driving in the German Porsche Supercup, with a couple of outings to his name in the GP-support races as well. I’ll say no more about Ivo at this stage, since he is a feature of the Red Camel team throughout the season; suffice to say that he is very much a hands-on Team Owner, in whom a fierce competitive spirit burns.
The race itself ran well – we came home third in class, without quite the pace of the two Team GP-Elite Porsches that beat us. It’s always interesting to compare driver performance within the team. For us, we had:
After Dubai, there was a break before the two-part, 12-hour race at Mugello in March. It’s a lovely part of the world, beautiful scenery, delightful cuisine and relatively accessible. When I arrived, I learnt that Thomas, our usual Team Manager, couldn’t be there and I was somewhat taken aback when the team decided that I should take on the role for the race weekend. I was quite comfortable running the strategy for the team: deciding when to stop for fuel, whether making an extra stop under code-60 conditions could prove beneficial, making sure that the team kept within driving time limits, etc., but to have to take the responsibility of making all the calls: on tyres, brakes, set-up changes, etc., put me well outside my comfort zone.
I was comfortable enough with our driver line-up though, as Ivo was joined by his two sons, Rik (24) and Luc (22). The boys are just as competitive as their father; Rik usually the quicker of the two, although on his day, Luc can push him quite hard – as is often the case with siblings.
Happily for me, GP-Elite was not entered for this race: our main competition was from HRT Performance and Red Ant Racing. From the very beginning of the weekend, though, it was clear that we had a quick car – the set-up worked very well around Mugello and a class win was on the cards. At the end of Part 1 (five-and-a-half hours) we were a few seconds clear of the HRT car and a lap ahead of the Red Ant Porsche.
A little over half-way through the second part, we had managed to establish almost (but not quite) a lap lead. In Creventic racing, in which there are no Safety Cars, being a lap ahead provides a psychological advantage but no real extra advantage, since the gaps in neutralisation periods stay (fairly) consistent. However, there came a pit stop, where we pitted immediately behind the other HRT team car. Ivo Breukers was in the car, and needed to fuel, so headed to the fuelling station, as did the HRT entry. But their car hesitated, seemed unsure where he wanted to go. Ivo could see our refueller at the first pump, and dived for the space. A few minutes later, news of a penalty for our car (a pit stop infringement) came through. We dutifully took the penalty (a 10-second stop and go) at our next routine stop, but about half-an-hour later another message appeared on the timing screens: “Team Manager car 909 to race control immediately”. I regretted taking the decision to accept the role, but made my way up the stairs and along the darkened corridors. I was introduced to the steward, who showed me video footage of our “indiscretion”.
“Look,” he said and showed me the regulation where it said there could be no overtaking in the refuelling area, and that it was not allowed to reserve a place at a pump. I agreed that it looked wrong, but explained that the driver of the HRT car had come to a complete standstill and our refueller was ready to start servicing our car straightaway. “There should be a penalty”, said the steward.
“There was!” I replied, “and we served it”. At this point the steward’s face dropped a little.
“Wait there,” he said and disappeared off to another room. He came back a few minutes later, telling me I was free to go. So off I went, without it being really clear whether that was the end of the matter. It seemed that HRT had protested the original penalty as being insufficient for the offence. That wasn’t our problem, of course, we served our penalty and got on with the race, coming home some two minutes clear of the other HRT car. I’ll admit, it was a good feeling, watching the drivers on the top step of the podium, knowing that the combination of my strategy, quick drivers, and fast work from our mechanics in the pits had led to the class victory. But the protest left an unnecessary cloud. The season then moved on, to Spa-Francochamps, and due to clashing commitments, I couldn’t make the trip to be there in person, but the team was very clear that I was still needed to run the strategy for them. So I sat in my study at home, one computer connected to the timing feed from Timeservice.nl, a second computer connected to the car’s telemetry and a third with local spreadsheets running on it. All-in-all, it was a good set-up and I was happy with the way it was working. I communicated with the garage via a WhatsApp chat group, which was not the same as being there, but seemed to work okay. Except that it didn’t. Towards the end of part one of the race (again, five-and-a-half hours), we had a commanding class lead, a comfortable lap ahead of our nearest rival (the 903 Red Ant car). Towards the end of the first part, the plan was to come in to the pit to refuel – thus enabling us to start part 2 on very nearly a full tank.
However, it didn’t quite go to plan. I wasn’t in the garage, of course, but I established later that Ivo and Rik, who were in the garage, had seen the opportunity to get a two-lap advantage on the Red Ant car, by not getting a full tank of fuel at the final stop. There seemed to be some confusion between the refueller and the garage, and Luc was sent on his way having only taken on 21 litres of fuel. This meant that we would be starting part 2 with almost no fuel on board at all. Bearing in mind the need to drive the car a lap to the grid and a further green flag lap behind the Safety Car at the restart, before the car would be allowed to come into the pit for a proper, legal refuelling stop, it was decided to pull the car off the grid and send it directly to the refuelling station.
All of this meant that, from being a lap ahead at the end of part one, within the first 15 minutes of part 2, we were two laps behind and the Red Ant car was simply too fast for us to catch it in the second part of the race. Third in class was all we could manage. “We got too greedy,” Ivo agreed with me afterwards.
With the aim of preventing a repeat, I was all set to go to Hockenheim for round 4 of the series, but rather late in the day I received a call-up from Radio Show Limited, explaining that they were short of commentators for the race, and that they needed me to commentate more than Red Camel needed me in the pit garage. After the Spa-Francorchamps debacle, I had some doubts, but Ivo had the good grace to release me, and hence I spent my first ever trip to Hockenheim working from the commentary box on the outside of the circuit, rather than from inside Red Camel’s garage. It made a welcome change though, and on top of that, my colleagues at Red Camel had a successful weekend, bringing the Porsche home to another class win in the (six plus six) twelve-hour race.
Next up were two 24-hour races, the first of which was at Portimao in the lovely Algarve region of Southern Portugal. For this and for the 24-hours at Barcelona, the family team of Ivo, Rik and Luc Breukers would be joined by Fabian Danz, a Swiss driver regularly competing in Creventic races, but only in front-wheel drive, TCR-class cars. Apart from some outings in a BMW, it would be Fabian’s first experience of anything like the Porsche 992.
It was a long trip for the transporter, and drama for the Red Camel car, which, it was discovered on getting to the circuit, hadn’t been properly secured and suffered some damage in transit. It seemed to be largely superficial, but in the light of what happened later in the weekend, maybe that wasn’t the case after all.
There was further drama before the start, as our rival entry from ID Racing was running an illegal exhaust, and to prove that others in the class were running to the regulation, we had to remove the exhaust system to prove that our catalytic converter was in place. It was all extra work for the small but dedicated team of mechanics, and maybe, just maybe, it led to some mistakes being made.
That done, it was on with the business of qualifying, and a good job all round (qualifying takes the best lap from each of three drivers) saw us qualify second in class, eighth overall. Apart from an early puncture, the first half of the race went well – we were leading the class and up to third place overall when disaster struck in the shape of a right driveshaft failure that took just over an hour to replace. With one rival already retired, the and only three cars remaining in the race, the hard decision was taken to retire the car. We continued long enough to complete enough laps to be classified for championship points, but there really was nothing to be gained by continuing. The bonus was, having packed away the garage, the team was free to go to the beach and enjoy some sunshine. The Circuit de Catalunya was next, and the team was definitely ready to avenge the disappointment of Portimao. Fabian Danz had fitted in really well with the team in Portugal, and whilst not as quick as Rik, was certainly playing his part. Qualifying went even better than in Portimao, Rik, Luc and Fabian combining to put our Porsche on class pole. Disaster struck early on this time: Rik having completed just over an hour from the start, was in the barrier at turn 1, following a brake failure. It took nearly forty minutes to get the car back to the garage, and then over five hours to repair it. Clearly, a recovery drive was going to be out of the question, but having repaired the car, everyone was keen to get on with the race. There was still a long way to go. Through the night, we kept at it, changed the discs and pads in the early hours of the morning and were not actually losing any ground to the class leaders, remaining the same distance behind them (about five-and-a-half hours) for the remainder of the race. Until about an hour to go, the brakes started to worry us again, so to minimise risk, with nothing to gain, we parked the car and good old Luc went out to complete the final few laps to the flag.
Not a great way to end the European season. Red Camel took second place honours in the European Championship, and worthily so. But for those bad results in Portimao and Barcelona, it could have been better. But I had learnt a lot. Having been in this business as long as I have, it is so refreshing to be able to still be learning things after forty years and more. The race in Kuwait will be the final round of the Championship of the Continents, and also the first round of the Middle East Championship, which consists of points scored in Kuwait (12 hours), Dubai (24 hours), and Abu Dhabi (6 hours). Bring it on, I say!
Creventic’s 2022 calendar has been a busy one: it started in January, in Dubai, where Red Camel ran their relatively recently-acquired Porsche 992 with high hopes following the washout that was the 2021 race. We had enlisted the driving talents of Jeroen Bleekemolen, Julius Adomavičius and Morris Schuring, alongside Team Owner Ivo Breukers.
Clockwise from top left, Ivo Breukers, Jeroen Bleekemolen, Julius Adomavičius and Morris Schuring. Bleekemolen should need no introduction to endurance racing fans: twice an outright winner of the Dubai 24 hours (in a Mercedes), as well as a class winner at Le Mans. Julius, from Lithuania, was just 20 years of age, but had experience of driving LMP3 as well as Touring cars. The youngster of the team was Morris Schuring at just 16, who spent 2021 driving in the German Porsche Supercup, with a couple of outings to his name in the GP-support races as well. I’ll say no more about Ivo at this stage, since he is a feature of the Red Camel team throughout the season; suffice to say that he is very much a hands-on Team Owner, in whom a fierce competitive spirit burns.
The race itself ran well – we came home third in class, without quite the pace of the two Team GP-Elite Porsches that beat us. It’s always interesting to compare driver performance within the team. For us, we had:
| Name | Driving Time | Laps | Best lap | Ave of best 20% | Theoretical best |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Bleekemolen | 6h 10m 30s | 164 | 2m 03.362s | 2m 04.702s | 2m 03.260s |
| Schuring | 6h 06m 35s | 154 | 2m 04.070s | 2m 05.287a | 2m 03.750s |
| Adomavičius | 5h 46m 01s | 147 | 2m 04.954s | 2m 06.074s | 2m 04.904s |
| Breukers | 3h 59m 08s | 101 | 2m 06.457s | 2m 07.808s | 2m 05.854s |
After Dubai, there was a break before the two-part, 12-hour race at Mugello in March. It’s a lovely part of the world, beautiful scenery, delightful cuisine and relatively accessible. When I arrived, I learnt that Thomas, our usual Team Manager, couldn’t be there and I was somewhat taken aback when the team decided that I should take on the role for the race weekend. I was quite comfortable running the strategy for the team: deciding when to stop for fuel, whether making an extra stop under code-60 conditions could prove beneficial, making sure that the team kept within driving time limits, etc., but to have to take the responsibility of making all the calls: on tyres, brakes, set-up changes, etc., put me well outside my comfort zone.
I was comfortable enough with our driver line-up though, as Ivo was joined by his two sons, Rik (24) and Luc (22). The boys are just as competitive as their father; Rik usually the quicker of the two, although on his day, Luc can push him quite hard – as is often the case with siblings.
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| L-R Rik, Ivo, Luc |
A little over half-way through the second part, we had managed to establish almost (but not quite) a lap lead. In Creventic racing, in which there are no Safety Cars, being a lap ahead provides a psychological advantage but no real extra advantage, since the gaps in neutralisation periods stay (fairly) consistent. However, there came a pit stop, where we pitted immediately behind the other HRT team car. Ivo Breukers was in the car, and needed to fuel, so headed to the fuelling station, as did the HRT entry. But their car hesitated, seemed unsure where he wanted to go. Ivo could see our refueller at the first pump, and dived for the space. A few minutes later, news of a penalty for our car (a pit stop infringement) came through. We dutifully took the penalty (a 10-second stop and go) at our next routine stop, but about half-an-hour later another message appeared on the timing screens: “Team Manager car 909 to race control immediately”. I regretted taking the decision to accept the role, but made my way up the stairs and along the darkened corridors. I was introduced to the steward, who showed me video footage of our “indiscretion”.
“Look,” he said and showed me the regulation where it said there could be no overtaking in the refuelling area, and that it was not allowed to reserve a place at a pump. I agreed that it looked wrong, but explained that the driver of the HRT car had come to a complete standstill and our refueller was ready to start servicing our car straightaway. “There should be a penalty”, said the steward.
“There was!” I replied, “and we served it”. At this point the steward’s face dropped a little.
“Wait there,” he said and disappeared off to another room. He came back a few minutes later, telling me I was free to go. So off I went, without it being really clear whether that was the end of the matter. It seemed that HRT had protested the original penalty as being insufficient for the offence. That wasn’t our problem, of course, we served our penalty and got on with the race, coming home some two minutes clear of the other HRT car. I’ll admit, it was a good feeling, watching the drivers on the top step of the podium, knowing that the combination of my strategy, quick drivers, and fast work from our mechanics in the pits had led to the class victory. But the protest left an unnecessary cloud. The season then moved on, to Spa-Francochamps, and due to clashing commitments, I couldn’t make the trip to be there in person, but the team was very clear that I was still needed to run the strategy for them. So I sat in my study at home, one computer connected to the timing feed from Timeservice.nl, a second computer connected to the car’s telemetry and a third with local spreadsheets running on it. All-in-all, it was a good set-up and I was happy with the way it was working. I communicated with the garage via a WhatsApp chat group, which was not the same as being there, but seemed to work okay. Except that it didn’t. Towards the end of part one of the race (again, five-and-a-half hours), we had a commanding class lead, a comfortable lap ahead of our nearest rival (the 903 Red Ant car). Towards the end of the first part, the plan was to come in to the pit to refuel – thus enabling us to start part 2 on very nearly a full tank.
However, it didn’t quite go to plan. I wasn’t in the garage, of course, but I established later that Ivo and Rik, who were in the garage, had seen the opportunity to get a two-lap advantage on the Red Ant car, by not getting a full tank of fuel at the final stop. There seemed to be some confusion between the refueller and the garage, and Luc was sent on his way having only taken on 21 litres of fuel. This meant that we would be starting part 2 with almost no fuel on board at all. Bearing in mind the need to drive the car a lap to the grid and a further green flag lap behind the Safety Car at the restart, before the car would be allowed to come into the pit for a proper, legal refuelling stop, it was decided to pull the car off the grid and send it directly to the refuelling station.
All of this meant that, from being a lap ahead at the end of part one, within the first 15 minutes of part 2, we were two laps behind and the Red Ant car was simply too fast for us to catch it in the second part of the race. Third in class was all we could manage. “We got too greedy,” Ivo agreed with me afterwards.
With the aim of preventing a repeat, I was all set to go to Hockenheim for round 4 of the series, but rather late in the day I received a call-up from Radio Show Limited, explaining that they were short of commentators for the race, and that they needed me to commentate more than Red Camel needed me in the pit garage. After the Spa-Francorchamps debacle, I had some doubts, but Ivo had the good grace to release me, and hence I spent my first ever trip to Hockenheim working from the commentary box on the outside of the circuit, rather than from inside Red Camel’s garage. It made a welcome change though, and on top of that, my colleagues at Red Camel had a successful weekend, bringing the Porsche home to another class win in the (six plus six) twelve-hour race.
Next up were two 24-hour races, the first of which was at Portimao in the lovely Algarve region of Southern Portugal. For this and for the 24-hours at Barcelona, the family team of Ivo, Rik and Luc Breukers would be joined by Fabian Danz, a Swiss driver regularly competing in Creventic races, but only in front-wheel drive, TCR-class cars. Apart from some outings in a BMW, it would be Fabian’s first experience of anything like the Porsche 992.
It was a long trip for the transporter, and drama for the Red Camel car, which, it was discovered on getting to the circuit, hadn’t been properly secured and suffered some damage in transit. It seemed to be largely superficial, but in the light of what happened later in the weekend, maybe that wasn’t the case after all.
There was further drama before the start, as our rival entry from ID Racing was running an illegal exhaust, and to prove that others in the class were running to the regulation, we had to remove the exhaust system to prove that our catalytic converter was in place. It was all extra work for the small but dedicated team of mechanics, and maybe, just maybe, it led to some mistakes being made.
That done, it was on with the business of qualifying, and a good job all round (qualifying takes the best lap from each of three drivers) saw us qualify second in class, eighth overall. Apart from an early puncture, the first half of the race went well – we were leading the class and up to third place overall when disaster struck in the shape of a right driveshaft failure that took just over an hour to replace. With one rival already retired, the and only three cars remaining in the race, the hard decision was taken to retire the car. We continued long enough to complete enough laps to be classified for championship points, but there really was nothing to be gained by continuing. The bonus was, having packed away the garage, the team was free to go to the beach and enjoy some sunshine. The Circuit de Catalunya was next, and the team was definitely ready to avenge the disappointment of Portimao. Fabian Danz had fitted in really well with the team in Portugal, and whilst not as quick as Rik, was certainly playing his part. Qualifying went even better than in Portimao, Rik, Luc and Fabian combining to put our Porsche on class pole. Disaster struck early on this time: Rik having completed just over an hour from the start, was in the barrier at turn 1, following a brake failure. It took nearly forty minutes to get the car back to the garage, and then over five hours to repair it. Clearly, a recovery drive was going to be out of the question, but having repaired the car, everyone was keen to get on with the race. There was still a long way to go. Through the night, we kept at it, changed the discs and pads in the early hours of the morning and were not actually losing any ground to the class leaders, remaining the same distance behind them (about five-and-a-half hours) for the remainder of the race. Until about an hour to go, the brakes started to worry us again, so to minimise risk, with nothing to gain, we parked the car and good old Luc went out to complete the final few laps to the flag.
Not a great way to end the European season. Red Camel took second place honours in the European Championship, and worthily so. But for those bad results in Portimao and Barcelona, it could have been better. But I had learnt a lot. Having been in this business as long as I have, it is so refreshing to be able to still be learning things after forty years and more. The race in Kuwait will be the final round of the Championship of the Continents, and also the first round of the Middle East Championship, which consists of points scored in Kuwait (12 hours), Dubai (24 hours), and Abu Dhabi (6 hours). Bring it on, I say!
Thursday, 25 November 2021
Season summary - Creventic
As we head into the final few weeks of the year, I am finding it much easier to look back on 2021 than I found looking back on 2020. By the time the bells of Big Ben chime to herald in 2022 we will (we will, I know we will) have moved into our new house, and that will bring with it a sense of a new start that I haven’t experienced since becoming fully self-employed at the beginning of 2019. Inevitably, I spend time at the end of the year looking back and summarising. At the end of 2020, I was glad just to have survived!
I may only have been to four race meetings this year – but that is three more than I went to in 2020, so by no means am I complaining. More importantly, I was fit enough to attend a lot more than that and I was able to be properly involved with a number of other races during the year: not only commentating for Radio Show Limited’s network of channels, but also getting involved in a consultancy role for various teams working remotely. It is a testament to modern technology – as well as the co-operation of timekeepers and facility suppliers – that such remote working is possible. One hears many stories these days of working from home, but I can confirm that the future is here… and it works!
There is no doubt whatsoever though, that however good the technology, you can’t beat actually being at a race. I’ll admit that I was interested in cars and motor sport from an early age (not encouraged in any way by my family, I must stress), but it was not until my first visit to Brands Hatch at the age of ten that my passion was truly ignited. Since becoming involved in the sport, I have been fortunate to attend races in many categories and across the globe, mostly (although not exclusively) at someone else’s expense.
And I’ll admit that I find it more of a chore and less of a joy to talk about races without being there. Le Mans this year was an excellent example. The situation was certainly not simple as various issues were at play, but an opportunity arose for me to make the trip to see the race at first hand. However, when the music stopped, I was at home and the 62 cars that I longed to see spend the week tearing around the French countryside did so without me. It meant that I was able to talk about the race for Radio Le Mans, and the technology I referred to above allowed me access to more data and as good TV pictures as I would have had if I had made the trip there in person. But I wasn’t there: I wasn’t able to talk to anyone in person, I wasn’t able to smell, feel or touch the atmosphere. There was a wall between Le Mans and me.
I was also disappointed not to make the trip to Sebring for the inaugural 24-hour race at the Florida airfield track, run by Creventic as the conclusion of their 24H Series Championship. I’ve never been to Sebring, and it remains one of those places I would like to go someday. I generally enjoy Creventic’s races – a highlight of my 2019 season was getting to all the rounds of their championship. Everyone who knows their races speaks highly of them, and although not without their wrinkles, they do a great job organising races that people actually enjoy participating in.
The Covid-19 pandemic, along with some other economic problems, has hit them hard. Remember who organised the first post-pandemic (or in the light of later events, mid-pandemic) race back in 2020? Yes, at Portimão – a 24-hour race on the weekend of June 13th/14th. It was a brave move, the previous race in the series having been the rain-curtailed Dubai 24 hours of 2020, which had to be abandoned after just seven hours because of heavy (artificially-induced) rain.
This year has been far more successful for the Dutch organisation. Seven races comprised the season: 24-hour races at Dubai, Barcelona and Sebring, complemented by 12-hour affairs at Mugello, Paul Ricard, Hockenheim and Budapest. Entries were generally pretty good although sometimes disappointing – no-one was happy to see just 16 cars start at the Hungaroring, a late replacement for the Coppa Florio at Enna-Pergusa. Considering the uncertainty caused by travel restrictions and the ongoing global pandemic, the average number of starters over the year, at over 31, is not too bad at all.
The fact that Creventic doesn’t use Safety Cars, but uses the Code-60 procedure to neutralise races, is a good thing in my view. However, it does reduce the tactical options for teams playing catch-up. Once you drop back, it is a tough job to recover lost time. In virtually all other brands of endurance racing, the Safety Car provides the chance for slower cars to catch up. Over the course of 12 or 24 hours, it is entirely possible for a car to recover several laps, by judicious use of pit stops during Safety Car periods, and some Creventic races this year have failed to provide as much entertainment merely because one car got a lucky break with a code-60, from which others were unable to recover. You may say that Safety Cars can provide similar lucky breaks, and you would be right, but more often than not, it is the cars behind the leader that benefit. It is a reflection on the careful Balance of Performance (BoP) regulations in the series that so many Creventic races are as close-fought as they are.
There is a good mix of manufacturers represented as well. Although Porsche won every race bar one this year, there were four occasions on which there were cars from three different manufacturers on the podium, and although Herberth Motorsport won four times, four different teams took overall honours during the year and on four occasions the winning margin was a lap or less. While Creventic now looks forward – with good reason – to the opening round of their 2022 season in Dubai in the second week of January, for which the entry list has already topped 85 cars, the season is not quite over yet for SRO.
There is still the final race of the 2021 Intercontinental GT Challenge to come in the shape of the iconic Kyalami 9 hours and I’m aware that by focussing on the Creventic series in this article I have overlooked the bigger brother, properly professional SRO-organised series that go to make not only the IGTC but also the GT World Challenge: in Europe, America and Asia.
Further still up the motor-racing pecking order, there is also the matter of a Formula 1 world championship to be settled. A friend of mine recently said that his attention had been drawn far more to F1 this year than to Endurance racing, and I can see why. The entertainment factor in F1 has certainly been very high.
Fortunately, Formula 1, the World Endurance Championship, the Intercontinental GT Challenge and the 24H Series all cater for different markets, different budgets, different customers. Long may they co-exist. But, reflecting the spirit of the time of year, may they also share where resources are scarce.
I may only have been to four race meetings this year – but that is three more than I went to in 2020, so by no means am I complaining. More importantly, I was fit enough to attend a lot more than that and I was able to be properly involved with a number of other races during the year: not only commentating for Radio Show Limited’s network of channels, but also getting involved in a consultancy role for various teams working remotely. It is a testament to modern technology – as well as the co-operation of timekeepers and facility suppliers – that such remote working is possible. One hears many stories these days of working from home, but I can confirm that the future is here… and it works!
There is no doubt whatsoever though, that however good the technology, you can’t beat actually being at a race. I’ll admit that I was interested in cars and motor sport from an early age (not encouraged in any way by my family, I must stress), but it was not until my first visit to Brands Hatch at the age of ten that my passion was truly ignited. Since becoming involved in the sport, I have been fortunate to attend races in many categories and across the globe, mostly (although not exclusively) at someone else’s expense.
And I’ll admit that I find it more of a chore and less of a joy to talk about races without being there. Le Mans this year was an excellent example. The situation was certainly not simple as various issues were at play, but an opportunity arose for me to make the trip to see the race at first hand. However, when the music stopped, I was at home and the 62 cars that I longed to see spend the week tearing around the French countryside did so without me. It meant that I was able to talk about the race for Radio Le Mans, and the technology I referred to above allowed me access to more data and as good TV pictures as I would have had if I had made the trip there in person. But I wasn’t there: I wasn’t able to talk to anyone in person, I wasn’t able to smell, feel or touch the atmosphere. There was a wall between Le Mans and me.
I was also disappointed not to make the trip to Sebring for the inaugural 24-hour race at the Florida airfield track, run by Creventic as the conclusion of their 24H Series Championship. I’ve never been to Sebring, and it remains one of those places I would like to go someday. I generally enjoy Creventic’s races – a highlight of my 2019 season was getting to all the rounds of their championship. Everyone who knows their races speaks highly of them, and although not without their wrinkles, they do a great job organising races that people actually enjoy participating in.
The Covid-19 pandemic, along with some other economic problems, has hit them hard. Remember who organised the first post-pandemic (or in the light of later events, mid-pandemic) race back in 2020? Yes, at Portimão – a 24-hour race on the weekend of June 13th/14th. It was a brave move, the previous race in the series having been the rain-curtailed Dubai 24 hours of 2020, which had to be abandoned after just seven hours because of heavy (artificially-induced) rain.
This year has been far more successful for the Dutch organisation. Seven races comprised the season: 24-hour races at Dubai, Barcelona and Sebring, complemented by 12-hour affairs at Mugello, Paul Ricard, Hockenheim and Budapest. Entries were generally pretty good although sometimes disappointing – no-one was happy to see just 16 cars start at the Hungaroring, a late replacement for the Coppa Florio at Enna-Pergusa. Considering the uncertainty caused by travel restrictions and the ongoing global pandemic, the average number of starters over the year, at over 31, is not too bad at all.
The fact that Creventic doesn’t use Safety Cars, but uses the Code-60 procedure to neutralise races, is a good thing in my view. However, it does reduce the tactical options for teams playing catch-up. Once you drop back, it is a tough job to recover lost time. In virtually all other brands of endurance racing, the Safety Car provides the chance for slower cars to catch up. Over the course of 12 or 24 hours, it is entirely possible for a car to recover several laps, by judicious use of pit stops during Safety Car periods, and some Creventic races this year have failed to provide as much entertainment merely because one car got a lucky break with a code-60, from which others were unable to recover. You may say that Safety Cars can provide similar lucky breaks, and you would be right, but more often than not, it is the cars behind the leader that benefit. It is a reflection on the careful Balance of Performance (BoP) regulations in the series that so many Creventic races are as close-fought as they are.
There is a good mix of manufacturers represented as well. Although Porsche won every race bar one this year, there were four occasions on which there were cars from three different manufacturers on the podium, and although Herberth Motorsport won four times, four different teams took overall honours during the year and on four occasions the winning margin was a lap or less. While Creventic now looks forward – with good reason – to the opening round of their 2022 season in Dubai in the second week of January, for which the entry list has already topped 85 cars, the season is not quite over yet for SRO.
There is still the final race of the 2021 Intercontinental GT Challenge to come in the shape of the iconic Kyalami 9 hours and I’m aware that by focussing on the Creventic series in this article I have overlooked the bigger brother, properly professional SRO-organised series that go to make not only the IGTC but also the GT World Challenge: in Europe, America and Asia.
Further still up the motor-racing pecking order, there is also the matter of a Formula 1 world championship to be settled. A friend of mine recently said that his attention had been drawn far more to F1 this year than to Endurance racing, and I can see why. The entertainment factor in F1 has certainly been very high.
Fortunately, Formula 1, the World Endurance Championship, the Intercontinental GT Challenge and the 24H Series all cater for different markets, different budgets, different customers. Long may they co-exist. But, reflecting the spirit of the time of year, may they also share where resources are scarce.
Thursday, 12 November 2020
The busiest weekend of the year?
I do not need to begin another post here by asserting that 2020 has been a crazy year (so far), but I will do anyway – because it sets the context for nearly everything – whether on the personal front or in terms of worldwide issues. The global coronavirus pandemic, and the mass cancellation and postponements of races earlier this year, inevitably led to one of the most congested periods I have ever seen, as the calendar has been squeezed this way and that to ensure that as many rounds as possible can be run in those championships lucky enough to have a title sponsor and that have money to organise and promote races and thus keep the wheels of the industry turning through these turbulent times.
There have been some busy weekends along the way over the past few months, but this weekend coming up is going to pretty much take the biscuit, as far as I can tell, with four international sportscar meetings being held, in Italy, Bahrain, the USA and France. Not only do these races take place across the same weekend, but for a half-hour period on Saturday afternoon (UK time), you could be following three races simultaneously (broadband data and internet permitting).
Personally, I’m quite looking forward to the prospect. From the health point of view, having escaped from the confinement of my hospital room at the end of last week, I am now under instructions to get lots of rest and relaxation, to try to distract myself and to take as much exercise as possible. What better way to provide that distraction than to turn on some computers and follow the racing for which I have so much enthusiasm through live TV streams where available, or failing that, live timing / scoring or live radio commentary – on radiolemans.com, where else? I’ll admit that the “take as much exercise as possible” box isn’t really ticked, by sitting in front a computer, but I have promised to take regular breaks from the screens and stretch my muscles whenever I can. Happily, I can report that those muscles are slowly regaining strength, and my recovery from the rigours of the stem cell transplant seems to be proceeding well.
So let’s get down to the detail, shall we? First off, there is the Mugello 12-hours, organised by the ever-friendly and efficient people at Creventic on the 24hseries.com website. Originally planned to take place at Zandvoort, itself a replacement for a race that should have been held at COTA, this will be the final round of both the 24h Series Continents’ Championship and for the 24h Series European Championship. There are trophies for both championships, awarded in the GT and TCE divisions as well as individual classes, and separate points tables for Teams and Drivers, so after the race #thisisendurance will be further tested by the awards presentations!
One thing that Creventic can never be accused of is to over-simplify things – and in addition to the complexity of the championship points, there is the structure of the race itself. As is often the case in 24H Series races, Mugello will be a two-part affair, this year’s 12 hours comprising of a 5-hour race on Friday afternoon and a further 6h 15m scheduled to take place on Saturday, with the chequered flag scheduled for 5pm local time. No-one has told me where the missing 45 minutes will go – most likely in the handing out of the trophies at the end!
It is certainly a disappointment to have only 17 cars on the entry list, especially considering that more than 50 took the start last year, but such has been the pattern this year. In the TCE division, a good race is always a certainty – there are six cars in the TCR class featuring VW Golf, Audi RS3 and Cupra TCR. In the GT4 class are three contenders: ProSport Racing’s fast but sometimes fragile Aston Martin Vantage led by the super-quick Nico Verdonck, against EBIMotors Porsche Cayman and the BMW M4 GT4 from the ever-reliable Sorg Rennsport squad. It is entirely possible that the overall GT division champion in both European and Continents championships could come from this class as well, with Sorg Rennsport leading the Continents and ProSport leading the European.
Meanwhile, in GT3, there are five entrants – two Mercedes AMG GT3s, two Herberth-run Porsche 911 GT3s and a Lamborghini Huracan Super Trofeo. You can take your pick, but mine would be the Herberth car (#91) which Robert Renauer will share with Daniel Alleman and Ralf Bohn.
While it is true that the entry list for Mugello is a little disappointing, and it also fair to say that the Creventic series is aimed more at the Gentleman driver than at professionals, the next two elements of the “four-way clash” this weekend are very much at the other end of the international scale of racing. The final round of the 2019-2020 World Endurance Championship (WEC) season (a super-season of its own in some ways) will take place at the Sakhir circuit of Bahrain, over a duration of 8 hours. If you’re watching from the UK, it is an 11am green flag on the Saturday, by which time you will have already had the opportunity to watch over an hour of Part 2 of the Mugello race. However, at 3:30pm on Saturday afternoon, if you’ve a mind to, there will be the call to tune in to the Sebring 12 hours.
To me, to have Sebring in anything other than March is as crazy as having Le Mans in September – but it has been that kind of year. And the DPi concept has certainly worked pretty well (taking an admittedly distant view from across the Atlantic), with cars from Acura, Cadillac and Mazda providing some great racing through the season (Daytona sure seems like a long time ago now). As a principal prototype category, it is not at all bad; and you only need to look across to Bahrain where there are going to be just two Toyotas – deliberately handicapped so that one is more than half-a-second a lap slower than the other – in a race for overall victory. I apologise if I suggested Creventic can over-complicate things, surely what they are doing makes more sense to the non-initiated than what WEC is up to?
Additional apologies as well, as I am falling into the trap of my own making and entangling the WEC, IMSA and Creventic. But those who are familiar with all the branches, it is fun to draw out their different characteristics.
A crucial element to both WEC and IMSA is the LMP2 category: but such is the way of LMP1, that LMP2 is much more crucial to WEC. More fundamental is the long-overdue restructure of prototype racing – whatever FIA/ACO comes up with, it does matter, and will have an influence on endurance racing on both sides of the Atlantic. This weekend marks the end of another season of IMSA and of WEC – I feel looking forward, not backward is the best approach and I hope that next year, we will be able to do so with optimism and enthusiasm.
I will try and give both the WEC and IMSA races their fair share of my attention – but I just have a feeling in my bones that Sebring will have more to offer than the race in Bahrain will be able to serve up, even if you take into account the unusual (in WEC terms) 8-hour race format. And however off-kilter the date, the Sebring 12 hours simply has a tradition and reputation that will draw in public interest.
There will be those who spend their time comparing the numbers – 24 WEC entries vs. 31 IMSA; 8 WEC prototypes vs. 12 IMSA; 16 WEC GT cars vs. 19 IMSA. Others with access to different data will be comparing spectator interest, twitter engagements, Facebook likes instead, but at the end of the day, the fact that the sport is in a state where it can survive such a date clash is surely quite a good sign?
Where the action will probably come from in the WEC race will as likely come from the GTE class, and that will probably be just as intense in Bahrain as in Sebring. What might have been though? Corvette, with Jordan Taylor and Antonio Garcia, have already wrapped up the IMSA championship, just as Aston Martin has in the WEC courtesy of Maxime Martin, Alex Lynn and Harry Tincknell’s Le Mans victory. A shame that Alex won’t be able to participate due to a late positive Covid-19 test, but Richard Westbrook is a worthy replacement. Will the fact that the championships have already been sorted reduce the intensity? Yes, probably, but it will still be good to see.
And if you’ve not had your fill – either of endurance racing in general, or GT racing in particular, the weekend is rounded off by the final round of the 2020 GT World Challenge Europe (SRO) – this a six-hour blast up and down the straights of Paul Ricard a mere three weeks after the chequered flag fell on the gruelling Spa 24-hour race.
With nearly all the championship trophies still up for grabs, tensions will likely be running high, and with a good live stream service available on www.gt-world-challenge-europe.com/live, entertainment is guaranteed!
It is interesting how racing manages to tread the balance between entertainment and pure sport. The various series taking place this weekend cover the different elements well: Creventic, catering for the enthusiastic amateur; WEC, in theory at least, the top of the FIA tree for sportscar and endurance racing, IMSA, a national series attracting worldwide interest and manufacturer commitment and SRO, for the more wealthy amateur wanting to push at the limit of what GT3 racing can deliver. I have written before how there often seems to be too much racing, how the market seems to be flooded and yet, there is space for weekends like this. Let’s not over-think this all too much; instead, let’s enjoy what’s good about it all!
There have been some busy weekends along the way over the past few months, but this weekend coming up is going to pretty much take the biscuit, as far as I can tell, with four international sportscar meetings being held, in Italy, Bahrain, the USA and France. Not only do these races take place across the same weekend, but for a half-hour period on Saturday afternoon (UK time), you could be following three races simultaneously (broadband data and internet permitting).
Personally, I’m quite looking forward to the prospect. From the health point of view, having escaped from the confinement of my hospital room at the end of last week, I am now under instructions to get lots of rest and relaxation, to try to distract myself and to take as much exercise as possible. What better way to provide that distraction than to turn on some computers and follow the racing for which I have so much enthusiasm through live TV streams where available, or failing that, live timing / scoring or live radio commentary – on radiolemans.com, where else? I’ll admit that the “take as much exercise as possible” box isn’t really ticked, by sitting in front a computer, but I have promised to take regular breaks from the screens and stretch my muscles whenever I can. Happily, I can report that those muscles are slowly regaining strength, and my recovery from the rigours of the stem cell transplant seems to be proceeding well.
One thing that Creventic can never be accused of is to over-simplify things – and in addition to the complexity of the championship points, there is the structure of the race itself. As is often the case in 24H Series races, Mugello will be a two-part affair, this year’s 12 hours comprising of a 5-hour race on Friday afternoon and a further 6h 15m scheduled to take place on Saturday, with the chequered flag scheduled for 5pm local time. No-one has told me where the missing 45 minutes will go – most likely in the handing out of the trophies at the end!
It is certainly a disappointment to have only 17 cars on the entry list, especially considering that more than 50 took the start last year, but such has been the pattern this year. In the TCE division, a good race is always a certainty – there are six cars in the TCR class featuring VW Golf, Audi RS3 and Cupra TCR. In the GT4 class are three contenders: ProSport Racing’s fast but sometimes fragile Aston Martin Vantage led by the super-quick Nico Verdonck, against EBIMotors Porsche Cayman and the BMW M4 GT4 from the ever-reliable Sorg Rennsport squad. It is entirely possible that the overall GT division champion in both European and Continents championships could come from this class as well, with Sorg Rennsport leading the Continents and ProSport leading the European.
Meanwhile, in GT3, there are five entrants – two Mercedes AMG GT3s, two Herberth-run Porsche 911 GT3s and a Lamborghini Huracan Super Trofeo. You can take your pick, but mine would be the Herberth car (#91) which Robert Renauer will share with Daniel Alleman and Ralf Bohn.
While it is true that the entry list for Mugello is a little disappointing, and it also fair to say that the Creventic series is aimed more at the Gentleman driver than at professionals, the next two elements of the “four-way clash” this weekend are very much at the other end of the international scale of racing. The final round of the 2019-2020 World Endurance Championship (WEC) season (a super-season of its own in some ways) will take place at the Sakhir circuit of Bahrain, over a duration of 8 hours. If you’re watching from the UK, it is an 11am green flag on the Saturday, by which time you will have already had the opportunity to watch over an hour of Part 2 of the Mugello race. However, at 3:30pm on Saturday afternoon, if you’ve a mind to, there will be the call to tune in to the Sebring 12 hours.
To me, to have Sebring in anything other than March is as crazy as having Le Mans in September – but it has been that kind of year. And the DPi concept has certainly worked pretty well (taking an admittedly distant view from across the Atlantic), with cars from Acura, Cadillac and Mazda providing some great racing through the season (Daytona sure seems like a long time ago now). As a principal prototype category, it is not at all bad; and you only need to look across to Bahrain where there are going to be just two Toyotas – deliberately handicapped so that one is more than half-a-second a lap slower than the other – in a race for overall victory. I apologise if I suggested Creventic can over-complicate things, surely what they are doing makes more sense to the non-initiated than what WEC is up to?
Additional apologies as well, as I am falling into the trap of my own making and entangling the WEC, IMSA and Creventic. But those who are familiar with all the branches, it is fun to draw out their different characteristics.
A crucial element to both WEC and IMSA is the LMP2 category: but such is the way of LMP1, that LMP2 is much more crucial to WEC. More fundamental is the long-overdue restructure of prototype racing – whatever FIA/ACO comes up with, it does matter, and will have an influence on endurance racing on both sides of the Atlantic. This weekend marks the end of another season of IMSA and of WEC – I feel looking forward, not backward is the best approach and I hope that next year, we will be able to do so with optimism and enthusiasm.
I will try and give both the WEC and IMSA races their fair share of my attention – but I just have a feeling in my bones that Sebring will have more to offer than the race in Bahrain will be able to serve up, even if you take into account the unusual (in WEC terms) 8-hour race format. And however off-kilter the date, the Sebring 12 hours simply has a tradition and reputation that will draw in public interest.
There will be those who spend their time comparing the numbers – 24 WEC entries vs. 31 IMSA; 8 WEC prototypes vs. 12 IMSA; 16 WEC GT cars vs. 19 IMSA. Others with access to different data will be comparing spectator interest, twitter engagements, Facebook likes instead, but at the end of the day, the fact that the sport is in a state where it can survive such a date clash is surely quite a good sign?
Where the action will probably come from in the WEC race will as likely come from the GTE class, and that will probably be just as intense in Bahrain as in Sebring. What might have been though? Corvette, with Jordan Taylor and Antonio Garcia, have already wrapped up the IMSA championship, just as Aston Martin has in the WEC courtesy of Maxime Martin, Alex Lynn and Harry Tincknell’s Le Mans victory. A shame that Alex won’t be able to participate due to a late positive Covid-19 test, but Richard Westbrook is a worthy replacement. Will the fact that the championships have already been sorted reduce the intensity? Yes, probably, but it will still be good to see.
And if you’ve not had your fill – either of endurance racing in general, or GT racing in particular, the weekend is rounded off by the final round of the 2020 GT World Challenge Europe (SRO) – this a six-hour blast up and down the straights of Paul Ricard a mere three weeks after the chequered flag fell on the gruelling Spa 24-hour race.
With nearly all the championship trophies still up for grabs, tensions will likely be running high, and with a good live stream service available on www.gt-world-challenge-europe.com/live, entertainment is guaranteed!
It is interesting how racing manages to tread the balance between entertainment and pure sport. The various series taking place this weekend cover the different elements well: Creventic, catering for the enthusiastic amateur; WEC, in theory at least, the top of the FIA tree for sportscar and endurance racing, IMSA, a national series attracting worldwide interest and manufacturer commitment and SRO, for the more wealthy amateur wanting to push at the limit of what GT3 racing can deliver. I have written before how there often seems to be too much racing, how the market seems to be flooded and yet, there is space for weekends like this. Let’s not over-think this all too much; instead, let’s enjoy what’s good about it all!
Sunday, 21 June 2020
Some Reflections Since the Portimao 24 hours
Okay, I will be honest: the main reason for this post is to prevent the previous article from being on top of the list when you first come to my blog’s ‘home’ page. But publishing a couple of articles per month when there was normal racing activity taking place used to be normal activity, and since a proper race has now taken place, I don’t really need to make any excuses. Do I?
First, however, it would be inappropriate if I failed to mention the many messages of support that my previous post prompted. They are all very much appreciated and I am grateful to you – whether you actually sent a message or not – the fact that you take the trouble to read or listen to me means a lot and all goes to aid both my mood and my recovery. Thank you to you all, from the bottom of my heart.
So, the Portimao 24-hours – was it a success? Insofar as the event took place at all, most definitely it was. Protocols were put in place, were seriously enforced and from a logistical and administrative point of view, were effective. People showed up – maybe not as many as promised, but the Creventic organisation made every effort and made sure that everyone’s concerns were addressed.
As a spectacle, though, fifteen cars taking the start for a 24-hour enduro did not get the pulse racing in the same way that most Creventic races do. It was a shame that the only GT3 opposition to a Herberth whitewash (the HTP / Winward Mercedes) was out of the race before three hours were elapsed. Equally disappointing was the gearbox repair that the no. 91 Renauer/Renauer/Bohn/Allemann Porsche needed, which meant that the no. 92 Porsche was not under serious challenge thereafter for overall honours. It gave a well-deserved win to the “lesser” Herberth crew comprising Tim Müller, Jürgen Häring, Marco Seefried, Taki Konstantinou and Michael Joos. All the more interesting as Joos drove for longer than any other driver in the car, yet didn’t actually get in until the tenth hour of the race!
The race in the TCE division was better, but again, among the six starters it was clear from relatively early on that it would be a race between just three cars – the Red Camel Cupra, the ComToYou Audi and the Autorama Golf. Indeed, these three provided a good race, with each recovering from problems. A ten-minute delay for Red Camel compared to twenty-minute stops for ComToYou and Autorama left them well-placed with six hours remaining. Unfortunately for the Dutch squad, some debris dislodged the radiator, which led to an overheating engine and retirement, leaving the battle between the experienced Swiss Autorama squad and the Belgian ComToYou team. Antti Buri may not be a household name outside the Creventic and German TCR series, but his pace and the experience of his co-drivers were in no doubt, and WTCC and WEC stars Tom Coronel and Nathanael Berthon had to be content with second place in the division.
I may be guilty of looking at the race through somewhat rose-tinted spectacles though. Just as 15 starters doesn’t really excite the spectator, only 10 cars running at the finish was, with the best will in the world, dull. But this race wasn’t about the spectator. This race was about getting the ball rolling. In the run-up to it, I had a lot of time to poll various contacts – the majority agreed that it was all too soon, particularly for those (travelling from outside continental Europe) for whom travel restrictions were more onerous. As a ‘proof of concept’ and a test of protocols, how to make them work in practice and to allow a racing team to be a team, and all that entails, it worked well.
Having myself been isolated for three months, I know how refreshing it can be to have human contact; a laugh, a joke, to see the smile break across someone’s face. Social distancing and the wearing of face masks make this more difficult, but surely it is better than being alone in front of a computer competing against an unseen opponent?
I don’t really want to take sides in the “Real vs Virtual” debate. As I have already mentioned, I have had the opportunity to talk to various people over the months of my enforced incarceration, and I certainly understand both sides of the argument. For the professional racing driver, needing to keep their wits and reactions sharp, their ‘name in the frame’ as far as media awareness is concerned and their competitive instincts honed, getting a sim racing rig set up and learning the nuances of driving one is just another of their jobs as a professional.
For commentators, who to my mind are crucial to enable the consumer of the virtual race livestreams to get a full experience of the ‘event’, they have provided an opportunity to “keep the eye in”, as one of my colleagues said to me. To say nothing of a bit of much-needed income, I would think.
What surprised me most was the involvement of the ‘backroom boys’ – no gender favouritism implied, but those race engineers and team managers – that get involved in tuning and optimising the virtual cars so that the drivers can get the best out of them. Just like in real life! “Don’t forget it’s only a game,” I reminded one race engineer friend of mine, partly in jest, I admit.
“After all the work, it’s not a game anymore,” came the somewhat terse reply. “I’ve been working 16-hour days for the last week-and-a-half”. When it gets to that stage, you can see his point.
On the opposite side are the drivers who were in Portimao, drivers for whom the real thing is, well, exactly that – the real thing. And I don’t think that a single one of the folk that I did talk to would choose to race virtually if there was a chance to race for real. It is just, as so many people said, “too soon yet”. But it is much harder to say that, and it will become harder still to say that, now that one race has taken place and further races are scheduled to follow.
What race organisers decide to do with spectators is a whole different question, and not one that I shall cover here. Nor can we forget that the big races, by which I mean the 24-hour events at Le Mans, Spa and Nürburgring, attract an audience from far further afield than the very Europe-centric Portimao 24-hours, and in massive numbers. Taking responsibility for scheduling (or cancelling) events of that magnitude requires very broad shoulders indeed. The sooner there is some clarity, the better.
First, however, it would be inappropriate if I failed to mention the many messages of support that my previous post prompted. They are all very much appreciated and I am grateful to you – whether you actually sent a message or not – the fact that you take the trouble to read or listen to me means a lot and all goes to aid both my mood and my recovery. Thank you to you all, from the bottom of my heart.
So, the Portimao 24-hours – was it a success? Insofar as the event took place at all, most definitely it was. Protocols were put in place, were seriously enforced and from a logistical and administrative point of view, were effective. People showed up – maybe not as many as promised, but the Creventic organisation made every effort and made sure that everyone’s concerns were addressed.
As a spectacle, though, fifteen cars taking the start for a 24-hour enduro did not get the pulse racing in the same way that most Creventic races do. It was a shame that the only GT3 opposition to a Herberth whitewash (the HTP / Winward Mercedes) was out of the race before three hours were elapsed. Equally disappointing was the gearbox repair that the no. 91 Renauer/Renauer/Bohn/Allemann Porsche needed, which meant that the no. 92 Porsche was not under serious challenge thereafter for overall honours. It gave a well-deserved win to the “lesser” Herberth crew comprising Tim Müller, Jürgen Häring, Marco Seefried, Taki Konstantinou and Michael Joos. All the more interesting as Joos drove for longer than any other driver in the car, yet didn’t actually get in until the tenth hour of the race!
The race in the TCE division was better, but again, among the six starters it was clear from relatively early on that it would be a race between just three cars – the Red Camel Cupra, the ComToYou Audi and the Autorama Golf. Indeed, these three provided a good race, with each recovering from problems. A ten-minute delay for Red Camel compared to twenty-minute stops for ComToYou and Autorama left them well-placed with six hours remaining. Unfortunately for the Dutch squad, some debris dislodged the radiator, which led to an overheating engine and retirement, leaving the battle between the experienced Swiss Autorama squad and the Belgian ComToYou team. Antti Buri may not be a household name outside the Creventic and German TCR series, but his pace and the experience of his co-drivers were in no doubt, and WTCC and WEC stars Tom Coronel and Nathanael Berthon had to be content with second place in the division.
I may be guilty of looking at the race through somewhat rose-tinted spectacles though. Just as 15 starters doesn’t really excite the spectator, only 10 cars running at the finish was, with the best will in the world, dull. But this race wasn’t about the spectator. This race was about getting the ball rolling. In the run-up to it, I had a lot of time to poll various contacts – the majority agreed that it was all too soon, particularly for those (travelling from outside continental Europe) for whom travel restrictions were more onerous. As a ‘proof of concept’ and a test of protocols, how to make them work in practice and to allow a racing team to be a team, and all that entails, it worked well.
Having myself been isolated for three months, I know how refreshing it can be to have human contact; a laugh, a joke, to see the smile break across someone’s face. Social distancing and the wearing of face masks make this more difficult, but surely it is better than being alone in front of a computer competing against an unseen opponent?
I don’t really want to take sides in the “Real vs Virtual” debate. As I have already mentioned, I have had the opportunity to talk to various people over the months of my enforced incarceration, and I certainly understand both sides of the argument. For the professional racing driver, needing to keep their wits and reactions sharp, their ‘name in the frame’ as far as media awareness is concerned and their competitive instincts honed, getting a sim racing rig set up and learning the nuances of driving one is just another of their jobs as a professional.
For commentators, who to my mind are crucial to enable the consumer of the virtual race livestreams to get a full experience of the ‘event’, they have provided an opportunity to “keep the eye in”, as one of my colleagues said to me. To say nothing of a bit of much-needed income, I would think.
What surprised me most was the involvement of the ‘backroom boys’ – no gender favouritism implied, but those race engineers and team managers – that get involved in tuning and optimising the virtual cars so that the drivers can get the best out of them. Just like in real life! “Don’t forget it’s only a game,” I reminded one race engineer friend of mine, partly in jest, I admit.
“After all the work, it’s not a game anymore,” came the somewhat terse reply. “I’ve been working 16-hour days for the last week-and-a-half”. When it gets to that stage, you can see his point.
On the opposite side are the drivers who were in Portimao, drivers for whom the real thing is, well, exactly that – the real thing. And I don’t think that a single one of the folk that I did talk to would choose to race virtually if there was a chance to race for real. It is just, as so many people said, “too soon yet”. But it is much harder to say that, and it will become harder still to say that, now that one race has taken place and further races are scheduled to follow.
What race organisers decide to do with spectators is a whole different question, and not one that I shall cover here. Nor can we forget that the big races, by which I mean the 24-hour events at Le Mans, Spa and Nürburgring, attract an audience from far further afield than the very Europe-centric Portimao 24-hours, and in massive numbers. Taking responsibility for scheduling (or cancelling) events of that magnitude requires very broad shoulders indeed. The sooner there is some clarity, the better.
Monday, 20 January 2020
A flood in the desert!
The fifteenth running of the Dubai 24-hours was certainly a bit of an adventure, in all sorts of ways.
It was always going to be an adventure, from my point of view, as I was given the opportunity to work for the Red Camel garage, running the strategy for the no. 101 Cupra in the TCR class. Accepting the offer was a tough decision, as I have worked every year since 2012 for the Radio Show Limited broadcast team. As I explained to John and Eve when I told them of my decision, it was for the most part driven by a desire to try out something new. I have commentated on enough 24-hour races now that I feel as if I know what I am doing, and although every race throws up surprises in one way or another, I usually go into the race confident of my ability to do what is required.
Readers may remember that Barwell Motorsport gave me the chance to work for them at the Spa 24 hours last year, so I had some impression of what would be needed at Red Camel, but my role at Barwell was merely advisory, in support to the four race engineers that were looking after their two Lamborghinis in the race.
Red Camel were (foolishly, perhaps) prepared to give me far more responsibility at Dubai. In addition to making calls on driver change and refuelling strategy, they wanted me to be involved with tyre wear management and even had me making decisions on car set-up.
I also managed to get myself involved – with Red Camel’s knowledge and approval – with Heide Motorsport, who had entered a brand new Audi R8 LMS GT4, for Rahel Frey, Alex Welch, Mike Beckhusen and Heinz Schmersal to drive.
Given my history with Barwell, and the fact that I had been to their workshop back in December to discuss their strategy for this race with their GT3 class Lamborghini Huracan, my loyalties were well and truly divided. Fortuitously, though, none of my interests were competing against each other in the same class, so it worked quite well in practice.
The contrast between the three teams is astonishing. Barwell, although a small team compared to some of their competition in the GT3 class such as Black Falcon and WRT, have an amazingly professional approach. The team looks to optimise every single thing, and makes everything work extremely effectively. They understand their strengths and weaknesses, they are extremely familiar with their car and have a great relationship with their partners and drivers. It is a hugely successful team achieving a great deal with limited resources: everyone works hard together and is always looking to improve.
Heide Motorsport, on the other hand, were having their first foray into a 24H Series event. Indeed, it was the first endurance event that the team had ever undertaken, so their learning curve was a steep one. It was clear, though, that over the course of the week, the team learned a lot and they will certainly be back for more 24H Series races later in the season.
Red Camel did not have a particularly successful season in 2019, in championship terms. But they did win the TCR 500 race at Spa-Francorchamps in October, and followed that up with a win in the TCE division at the final race of the 2019 season, the 24 hours of COTA. The team is run by the charismatic Ivo Breukers, who also happens to be one of the founders of the Creventic organisation. What is most surprising about the members of the Red Camel team, though, is that they are all enthusiasts, giving up their time to come and work on the Cupra at various weekends during the year.
Compared to both Barwell and Heide, Red Camel is very much a team of amateurs – although, as is the case with a lot of sporting amateurs, they are just as talented as many of the so-called professionals.
Being in the garage rather than the commentary box, one gets a massive insight into the various aspects that are involved with running a racing team. There are so many elements that have to fit together. Engineers have to understand suspension, tyres, aerodynamics, fuel consumption. Team managers have to deal with everyone’s requirements – for rest, refreshment, travel, accommodation and all other things logistical. People need to be able to communicate without ambiguity (a problem, for me, when most of the Red Camel team is Dutch!).
I must admit, there were times in the lead-up to the race, when I yearned for the simplicity of the commentary box. Once the set-up and sound checks have been done, it is just a matter of turning on the microphone and talking. In the team, you have to spend so much time thinking, working things out, posing and answering ‘what if’ questions. Then there is the whole question of the strategy. You need to make sure the car is performing at its best for qualifying (ours wasn’t), that all the team drivers are happy with the set-up of the car (ours weren’t), that we knew what we were going to do to the car when it rained (we knew it would), that we had enough rain tyres (did we?), and so the list goes on.
Come the race, of course, it rained. By this time, the Red Camel Cupra, ably driven by Jerimy Daniel, Jean-François Hevey (known as Jef), Henry Littig and Ivo himself, was up into fourth place in the TCE race (from tenth on the grid). We had had an unscheduled off-course excursion, when the car had hit the barrier as the driver had tried to make room for a faster car to come past. We had also had a couple of mistakes on pit calls – on one occasion the driver staying out, when we really wanted him to pit, on another when we went to wet tyres too early. We also lost ground to the TCR class leader during a caution period… it was not much consolation (although a small satisfaction) when he was later penalised for speeding under code 60!
With more than half the race remaining, we had high hopes – at least of a podium. Unfortunately, through the night, the rain continued. Picture the scene: mechanics dozing in the garage, drivers having been sent back to their hotels. The race was suspended until at least 7am; but at around 4:30am, the water started to come in under the garage door. Like every other garage, ours had cables, extensions, chargers, clothing, sleeping bags all over the floor. With the power failed, suddenly there was a mad rush to clear everything off the floor, to switch off the current in case the power returned when connections were still under water.
Then we discovered that the cars, parked out on the start-finish line, were also being submerged. We were advised to send mechanics to push them to ‘higher ground’. Some fool went out into the pit lane floating on his air-mattress. Apparently there were metre-deep puddles out on the circuit.
At dawn, it became apparent how much water was about. The inevitable official notification came, to the effect that a restart would be impossible. So we packed up the container, trying to dry things out as much as possible. I joined a group of mechanics and we headed to the Dubai Mall, and we had a pleasant lunch sitting outside in the warm sunshine at the base of the Burj Khailfa. The madness of the night seemed like a fairytale.
Then Ivo sent us pictures of the lake at Turns 2 and 3. It would clearly be a number of days yet before racing would be possible at Dubai: even after the water subsided, there would still be the need to clear all the debris – sand hardened to near-concrete by the water – from the track.
It was a bit of a rubbish way to end a 24-hour race. But a race to remember in any case. Again.
It was always going to be an adventure, from my point of view, as I was given the opportunity to work for the Red Camel garage, running the strategy for the no. 101 Cupra in the TCR class. Accepting the offer was a tough decision, as I have worked every year since 2012 for the Radio Show Limited broadcast team. As I explained to John and Eve when I told them of my decision, it was for the most part driven by a desire to try out something new. I have commentated on enough 24-hour races now that I feel as if I know what I am doing, and although every race throws up surprises in one way or another, I usually go into the race confident of my ability to do what is required.
Readers may remember that Barwell Motorsport gave me the chance to work for them at the Spa 24 hours last year, so I had some impression of what would be needed at Red Camel, but my role at Barwell was merely advisory, in support to the four race engineers that were looking after their two Lamborghinis in the race.
Red Camel were (foolishly, perhaps) prepared to give me far more responsibility at Dubai. In addition to making calls on driver change and refuelling strategy, they wanted me to be involved with tyre wear management and even had me making decisions on car set-up.
I also managed to get myself involved – with Red Camel’s knowledge and approval – with Heide Motorsport, who had entered a brand new Audi R8 LMS GT4, for Rahel Frey, Alex Welch, Mike Beckhusen and Heinz Schmersal to drive.
Given my history with Barwell, and the fact that I had been to their workshop back in December to discuss their strategy for this race with their GT3 class Lamborghini Huracan, my loyalties were well and truly divided. Fortuitously, though, none of my interests were competing against each other in the same class, so it worked quite well in practice.
The contrast between the three teams is astonishing. Barwell, although a small team compared to some of their competition in the GT3 class such as Black Falcon and WRT, have an amazingly professional approach. The team looks to optimise every single thing, and makes everything work extremely effectively. They understand their strengths and weaknesses, they are extremely familiar with their car and have a great relationship with their partners and drivers. It is a hugely successful team achieving a great deal with limited resources: everyone works hard together and is always looking to improve.
Heide Motorsport, on the other hand, were having their first foray into a 24H Series event. Indeed, it was the first endurance event that the team had ever undertaken, so their learning curve was a steep one. It was clear, though, that over the course of the week, the team learned a lot and they will certainly be back for more 24H Series races later in the season.
Red Camel did not have a particularly successful season in 2019, in championship terms. But they did win the TCR 500 race at Spa-Francorchamps in October, and followed that up with a win in the TCE division at the final race of the 2019 season, the 24 hours of COTA. The team is run by the charismatic Ivo Breukers, who also happens to be one of the founders of the Creventic organisation. What is most surprising about the members of the Red Camel team, though, is that they are all enthusiasts, giving up their time to come and work on the Cupra at various weekends during the year.
Compared to both Barwell and Heide, Red Camel is very much a team of amateurs – although, as is the case with a lot of sporting amateurs, they are just as talented as many of the so-called professionals.
Being in the garage rather than the commentary box, one gets a massive insight into the various aspects that are involved with running a racing team. There are so many elements that have to fit together. Engineers have to understand suspension, tyres, aerodynamics, fuel consumption. Team managers have to deal with everyone’s requirements – for rest, refreshment, travel, accommodation and all other things logistical. People need to be able to communicate without ambiguity (a problem, for me, when most of the Red Camel team is Dutch!).
I must admit, there were times in the lead-up to the race, when I yearned for the simplicity of the commentary box. Once the set-up and sound checks have been done, it is just a matter of turning on the microphone and talking. In the team, you have to spend so much time thinking, working things out, posing and answering ‘what if’ questions. Then there is the whole question of the strategy. You need to make sure the car is performing at its best for qualifying (ours wasn’t), that all the team drivers are happy with the set-up of the car (ours weren’t), that we knew what we were going to do to the car when it rained (we knew it would), that we had enough rain tyres (did we?), and so the list goes on.
Come the race, of course, it rained. By this time, the Red Camel Cupra, ably driven by Jerimy Daniel, Jean-François Hevey (known as Jef), Henry Littig and Ivo himself, was up into fourth place in the TCE race (from tenth on the grid). We had had an unscheduled off-course excursion, when the car had hit the barrier as the driver had tried to make room for a faster car to come past. We had also had a couple of mistakes on pit calls – on one occasion the driver staying out, when we really wanted him to pit, on another when we went to wet tyres too early. We also lost ground to the TCR class leader during a caution period… it was not much consolation (although a small satisfaction) when he was later penalised for speeding under code 60!
With more than half the race remaining, we had high hopes – at least of a podium. Unfortunately, through the night, the rain continued. Picture the scene: mechanics dozing in the garage, drivers having been sent back to their hotels. The race was suspended until at least 7am; but at around 4:30am, the water started to come in under the garage door. Like every other garage, ours had cables, extensions, chargers, clothing, sleeping bags all over the floor. With the power failed, suddenly there was a mad rush to clear everything off the floor, to switch off the current in case the power returned when connections were still under water.
Then we discovered that the cars, parked out on the start-finish line, were also being submerged. We were advised to send mechanics to push them to ‘higher ground’. Some fool went out into the pit lane floating on his air-mattress. Apparently there were metre-deep puddles out on the circuit.
At dawn, it became apparent how much water was about. The inevitable official notification came, to the effect that a restart would be impossible. So we packed up the container, trying to dry things out as much as possible. I joined a group of mechanics and we headed to the Dubai Mall, and we had a pleasant lunch sitting outside in the warm sunshine at the base of the Burj Khailfa. The madness of the night seemed like a fairytale.
Then Ivo sent us pictures of the lake at Turns 2 and 3. It would clearly be a number of days yet before racing would be possible at Dubai: even after the water subsided, there would still be the need to clear all the debris – sand hardened to near-concrete by the water – from the track.
It was a bit of a rubbish way to end a 24-hour race. But a race to remember in any case. Again.
Monday, 9 December 2019
The truth is important
In the novel “Life of Pi”, a story is told of a boy who survives a shipwreck and then shares a lifeboat with a hyena, an injured zebra, an orangutan and a Bengal tiger.
Towards the end of the book, the possibility is raised that the tale is not true, and Yann Martel, the author, offers an alternative version, which may or may not be more believable, but which doesn’t involve any animals, exotic or otherwise. In the end, the reader is left with the dilemma of deciding for himself which makes the better story. Since it is a novel, and makes no pretence to be a record of history, I see no problem in any of it – indeed I count it among the better novels I have read, raising some interesting philosophical ideas.
History is different though. It is said that the difference between Herodotus (born circa 484 BC) and Thucydides (born 20 years later) is that only with the latter did history (as a subject) emerge from storytelling to become a truth-telling activity.
In this modern age, we might expect it to be easier to get at, preserve and report the truth. Well, yes, but that is to ignore the fact that people do not always tell the truth. Stories sometimes get embellished, and facts, sometimes, are the casualties.
At Creventic’s COTA 24 hours recently, we had the occasion to celebrate Jim Briody’s 100th 24-hour race. There was a big piece in the race magazine, and as well Cor Euser (for whose team Briody was driving) made a big banner across the pit, and a big celebration and fuss was made. Jim’s wife Pat had been in touch with venerable record-keeper and historian János Wimpffen, in order to chronicle the races. However, before the race, I received an email from János to advise that the real number of 24-hour races that Jim had contested was actually around 82, rather than the 100 that Jim and Pat were claiming.
“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story”, goes the old proverb, often raised in journalistic quarters, and I must admit that it did not seem apposite, in Texas, to rain on Jim’s parade. And in any case, competing in your 82nd 24-hour race, at the age of 75, is a worthy achievement indeed. But just in case anyone does ask Google “Who has made 100 24-hour race starts?” the answer isn’t Jim Briody.
I felt the same thing while watching the Le Mans ’66 film recently. It was certainly a good film, and I was delighted to see that Ken Miles’ efforts in the development of the Mk II GT40 were justly recognised, even if those of Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme were somewhat overlooked. However, what spoiled it for me was the film’s willingness to play fast and loose with the facts. I don’t think I need to pick holes here, or bring your attention to what actually happened: all I would suggest is that you get hold of A. J. Baime’s book “Go Like Hell”, and compare it to the screenplay of the film.
The original Le Mans film (the one with Steve McQueen) made no pretence to tell a true story – nor for that matter did the John Frankenheimer film Grand Prix. But unquestionably both provided a sublime portrayal of the reality of racing (as well as a bit of glamour). But the more recent glut of motor-racing films – I’m thinking particularly of Senna, Rush and Le Mans ‘66 – have had an air of documentary authenticity about them and with that comes a responsibility to tell the truth. Misrepresenting the facts merely puts the rest of the story into jeopardy: where do you stop believing it?
There are some stories that have become the stuff of legend: the reason that Mercedes’ cars were silver rather than white in the 1930’s; the story of Duncan Hamilton and Tony Rolt’s win at Le Mans while hungover in 1953; Ed Hugus driving (or not) the winning Ferrari at Le Mans in 1965; right up to Hunt and Lauda’s rivalry in 1976. Often, the stories are better than the historical fact, so it is hardly surprising that they gain traction.
Motor racing is not alone in having its legends and myths, of course. Not just Hollywood, but many a respectable book-shelf is littered with examples of embellishment, exaggeration and downright fiction masquerading as fact. But history can be a very dry subject if not lubricated by a larger-than-life character or a tall story.
Yet still I am drawn by the need to seek out the truth of a situation; a desire to understand the motives, context and perspective rather than to hear glib sound-bites or watch a 20-second video clip. I am afraid that I believe that it is just as important to want to know – or find out – the historical facts as it is to be able to recount a good story. That is what distinguishes a good story-teller from a good historian. No doubt the former can win more friends; it is an unfortunate consequence that it is also the former that influences more people.
Towards the end of the book, the possibility is raised that the tale is not true, and Yann Martel, the author, offers an alternative version, which may or may not be more believable, but which doesn’t involve any animals, exotic or otherwise. In the end, the reader is left with the dilemma of deciding for himself which makes the better story. Since it is a novel, and makes no pretence to be a record of history, I see no problem in any of it – indeed I count it among the better novels I have read, raising some interesting philosophical ideas.
History is different though. It is said that the difference between Herodotus (born circa 484 BC) and Thucydides (born 20 years later) is that only with the latter did history (as a subject) emerge from storytelling to become a truth-telling activity.
In this modern age, we might expect it to be easier to get at, preserve and report the truth. Well, yes, but that is to ignore the fact that people do not always tell the truth. Stories sometimes get embellished, and facts, sometimes, are the casualties.
At Creventic’s COTA 24 hours recently, we had the occasion to celebrate Jim Briody’s 100th 24-hour race. There was a big piece in the race magazine, and as well Cor Euser (for whose team Briody was driving) made a big banner across the pit, and a big celebration and fuss was made. Jim’s wife Pat had been in touch with venerable record-keeper and historian János Wimpffen, in order to chronicle the races. However, before the race, I received an email from János to advise that the real number of 24-hour races that Jim had contested was actually around 82, rather than the 100 that Jim and Pat were claiming.
“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story”, goes the old proverb, often raised in journalistic quarters, and I must admit that it did not seem apposite, in Texas, to rain on Jim’s parade. And in any case, competing in your 82nd 24-hour race, at the age of 75, is a worthy achievement indeed. But just in case anyone does ask Google “Who has made 100 24-hour race starts?” the answer isn’t Jim Briody.
I felt the same thing while watching the Le Mans ’66 film recently. It was certainly a good film, and I was delighted to see that Ken Miles’ efforts in the development of the Mk II GT40 were justly recognised, even if those of Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme were somewhat overlooked. However, what spoiled it for me was the film’s willingness to play fast and loose with the facts. I don’t think I need to pick holes here, or bring your attention to what actually happened: all I would suggest is that you get hold of A. J. Baime’s book “Go Like Hell”, and compare it to the screenplay of the film.
The original Le Mans film (the one with Steve McQueen) made no pretence to tell a true story – nor for that matter did the John Frankenheimer film Grand Prix. But unquestionably both provided a sublime portrayal of the reality of racing (as well as a bit of glamour). But the more recent glut of motor-racing films – I’m thinking particularly of Senna, Rush and Le Mans ‘66 – have had an air of documentary authenticity about them and with that comes a responsibility to tell the truth. Misrepresenting the facts merely puts the rest of the story into jeopardy: where do you stop believing it?
There are some stories that have become the stuff of legend: the reason that Mercedes’ cars were silver rather than white in the 1930’s; the story of Duncan Hamilton and Tony Rolt’s win at Le Mans while hungover in 1953; Ed Hugus driving (or not) the winning Ferrari at Le Mans in 1965; right up to Hunt and Lauda’s rivalry in 1976. Often, the stories are better than the historical fact, so it is hardly surprising that they gain traction.
Motor racing is not alone in having its legends and myths, of course. Not just Hollywood, but many a respectable book-shelf is littered with examples of embellishment, exaggeration and downright fiction masquerading as fact. But history can be a very dry subject if not lubricated by a larger-than-life character or a tall story.
Yet still I am drawn by the need to seek out the truth of a situation; a desire to understand the motives, context and perspective rather than to hear glib sound-bites or watch a 20-second video clip. I am afraid that I believe that it is just as important to want to know – or find out – the historical facts as it is to be able to recount a good story. That is what distinguishes a good story-teller from a good historian. No doubt the former can win more friends; it is an unfortunate consequence that it is also the former that influences more people.
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