There has been a lot of chatter in recent days, following the publication by the ACO of the Performance Adjustments in advance of the Le Mans 24 hours, for which scrutineering is due to begin in just two weeks time. My sympathies lie with all concerned. First, with the ACO, who is coming under criticism for doing ‘too little, too late’. Second, with the smaller teams who now have very little time to test out different engine mappings and the impact on fuel consumption and tyre wear of running with less weight and more power. And third with the major manufacturers, whose advantage over the rest has (to an extent still to be determined) been diminished.
For the spectators and media though, it can only be good news. The media can now go into a frenzy of claim and counter-claim and the spectators have the prospect of a closer race to witness, with all kinds of possibilities now in prospect for the great race.
The detail of the adjustments can be found elsewhere on the web and if you are savvy enough to get here, then you’ll be able to read the exact changes that have been mandated. I also commend to you the interview (published both in English and French) with Vincent Beaumesnil (sporting manager of the ACO) justifying the adjustments. My purpose here is merely to comment.
First, a defence of the ACO. Article 1.3 of the 2011 Sporting Regulations (first issued in December 2010) was clear enough: the adjustments would be applied to ‘the slower technologies’ and there was no suggestion that the faster cars would be ‘reeled in’. So the idea that the ACO was going to adjust the performance of the diesels to slow them down to the ‘target lap time’ of 3 mins 30 secs was never (in my opinion) an objective for the ACO. I’ll admit that it was their stated objective when the Technical Regulations were written in the first place, but not the objective of the mid-season performance adjustment.
So suggestions that the ACO missed an opportunity to slow down the diesels are, quite simply, wrong.
It was equally obvious therefore that the impact of the performance adjustment would fall on the teams using the slower technologies. So the time to complain was in December and January (or in the many meetings that the ACO held with Le Mans entrants beforehand), not now that the actual adjustments are made known.
The regulations also made clear that only race data would be analysed, and adjustments would only be made after two races had taken place. Sebring and Spa were the first two rounds of the ILMC, but the ACO also had the chance to analyse data from Long Beach (ALMS) and Paul Ricard (LMS), but of course there were no diesel-engined cars at either of these events. Data from practice and qualifying sessions, and the Le Mans Test Day was inadmissible. From looking at the calendar, it was apparent that time would be tight between the data being available to analyse and the outcome of the organiser’s deliberations being made known.
The way I look at it - and for the moment focussing purely on LMP1 cars, the adjustments fall into two categories: firstly the diameter of the refuelling hose (or at least the orifice through which the fuel has to pass) and secondly the engine performance parameters.
The diameter of the refuelling hose obviously has no impact on lap times, but will affect the amount of time spent in the pits refuelling. Now I am no expert at fluid dynamics (I believe the term is rheology), but by reducing the size of the orifice through which the fuel must flow for the diesels by 3mm (to 25mm) and by increasing it for the petrol-powered teams by 10mm (to 38mm), the ACO has made a significant impact, without demanding the teams to make any change to the configuration of the car itself.
By my somewhat rough and ready calculation, the fuel flow rate for the diesels will be roughly half that for petrol-engined cars. In other words, petrol will flow (less viscosity, through a larger restrictor) at a rate of nearly 3 litres per second, but for the diesels at about 1½ litres per second. This will mean that a fuel-only stop will cost a petrol team 25 seconds (depending on how much fuel is left in the tank when the car stops), whereas a diesel car will be at rest for around 50 seconds.
Reassuringly, I did this calculation before reading the interview with Beaumesnil, who also suggested that the difference in refuelling time would be “over 22 seconds, the equivalent of two seconds a lap”. Over the course of 24 hours, this is like giving a diesel car around three and a half laps penalty. If that’s not “reeling in the diesels”, then what is?
The other category of change is the reduced weight / increased air restrictor combination, and this is what leads me to sympathise with the petrol-fuelled privateers. It’s now decision-time. Run at the reduced weight and risk a problem occurring in the race that hasn’t previously been encountered? Maybe the car is not at the weight limit anyway; in which case, the increased restrictor could mean additional engine development costs and changed mappings. But doing nothing is not really an option either - the extra air entering the engine should provide enough horsepower to reduce lap-times by up to a couple of seconds. But would Pescarolo or Rebellion (for example) want to come to Le Mans with a different package from the Test Day without proper testing? It is a real dilemma.
The trouble with all this performance fiddling, is that it makes comparisons difficult. Lap times obviously can’t be compared from last year to this, but nor really can pit stop times. “Time spent in pits” is one of those interesting statistics that I collect. But when I look back at the amount of time spent by cars in the pits over the years, I find myself increasingly comparing apples with pears. In the days of Group C, the fuel fill rate was one litre per second, and the tank (under the first iteration of the regulations), took two minutes to fill. More recently, the nonsense with the restrictions on the number of mechanics changing the tyres has made it meaningless to compare pit stop times with those from the early years of this decade.
This year, however, the fact that fuel is allowed to flow into some cars more quickly than others, will make "time spent in pits" even more irrelevant as a measure of a team's efficiency - although it may well have a bearing on the outcome of the race.
There are other aspects of the adjustments which also bear discussion, such as the reduced weight of the Oreca Peugeot (yes, the one that won at Sebring) and the LMP2 changes (which seem to penalise the slower cars), but I think I will leave those for another occasion.
What do you think?
Friday, 20 May 2011
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Le Mans 1981 - personal recollections
In October last year, I posted some recollections of the first race I ever attended, the 1967 Race of Champions. With Le Mans 2011 fast approaching, I thought readers might be interested to read memories of my first trip there to see the fabled Vingt-Quatre Heures du Mans in 1981. I was already a keen follower of motor-racing, having attended Grands Prix at Silverstone, Brands Hatch, Austria and Monaco, as well as other races at most of the UK’s major circuits. On the endurance front, I first went to the BOAC 1000 at Brands Hatch in 1972, and had seen quite a few 1,000kms and six hour races at Brands and Silverstone after that. I was also able to visit the 1,000kms at Monza in 1980 (won by Alain de Cadenet and DesirĂ© Wilson by just a handful of seconds).
I remember that a friend of mine from university, Steve Davison, had suggested a couple of times that we should go to Le Mans together, and finally we agreed to go ahead and do it. At the time I was living and working in Redhill, Surrey, and a work colleague of mine at that time, Malcolm Gimblett, also decided to come along.
So we booked ourselves a ferry (Portsmouth to Le Havre), got some tickets and set off; the three of us, with a tent each, in my Alfasud, heading for the White Panorama campsite. We left in the morning of Wednesday 10th June, with me driving, and Malcolm (who had longer legs) alongside advising on whether it was safe to overtake or not. I felt his indecisiveness and caution were slowing us down, though, so after a stop for fuel, we squashed Malcolm into the back seat, and Steve (who had ‘navigated’ for me on some University-run treasure hunts in the past) took over as co-driver. Most of the road down from Le Havre was quite clear - a couple of helpful locals flashing headlamps to warn of ‘Gendarmes ahead’ - and we made good progress. Even so, night was falling as we sought out the ‘Parking Blanc’ signs, which we reckoned we needed to follow, and finally we found our campsite just after 10pm. The plots were marked, but un-numbered, so we found a good-looking flat-ish plot, parked the car and decided that, as we could hear practice in full flow and the fact that it was due to continue until 11pm, we’d find the track and put the tents up later, despite Malcolm’s warning to us: “do you really think that’s wise?”
As it was so late, the gates were open, so we didn’t have to show our tickets, but simply scrambled up a bank and found ourselves on the outside of the circuit, just past the Dunlop Bridge. It’s one of those memories that has remained clear in my mind ever since. The image of cars having just crested the rise, appearing from underneath that famous bridge and thundering away from us, downhill toward the Esses has not faded. That final half-hour or so of practice; my first encounter with the narcotic that is Le Mans, was truly intoxicating. They were fast - so fast - and they were spectacular - headlights illuminating the way and turbo-chargers flaming out as drivers lifted off the throttle before the Esses. All mighty impressive.
After practice ended, we put the tents up, and on the Thursday morning Steve went off to buy himself an admission ticket. I can’t remember the details now, but I think I had sorted the camping and entrance tickets for Malcolm and me (probably through ‘Just Tickets’), but Steve hadn’t. No worries, we thought, until Steve came back, complaining mildly that he had had to pay rather more than we had for ours. So we compared them and discovered that his was “Enceintes General” and ours “Enceintes Virages”. We went back and established that this meant that Steve could get into the start-finish area in front of the main grandstands, but that Malcolm and I could not. This would only apply for the race itself, though: for practice this evening we would be able to go anywhere.
At the time, I didn’t think much about the fact that we could get pretty much anywhere we liked during Thursday. The paddock in those days was spread out behind the pits, which were not the sophisticated and well-equipped garages of today. The teams were camped under awnings, where they worked on the cars between practices sessions and the cars had to be pushed round into the pit lane, to sit in front of the pit boxes, at the start of every practice session.
As a result spectators could wander around the transporters, awnings and motorhomes practically at will, and cars could be easily seen as they were being worked on.
We went up onto the top of the pits to watch practice for the support race (Renault 5 Turbos), then through the tunnel to the outside of the circuit to watch final practice (which was from 6pm to 10pm).
Then it was down to the funfair, located on the outside of the Esses in those days. Although I had been to funfairs in England before, I wasn’t expecting the sheer size and variety of things on offer at Le Mans. And the range of folk that were there was simply astonishing. It seemed to me that some were there specifically for the funfair, who found the car noise somewhat distracting, others whose high-heels and furs prevented them from leaving the relative safety of the ACO ‘Welcome’ building and still more dedicated race-fans like myself, trying to get the most from every experience.
Saturday morning was bright and sunny - in fact the whole weekend was a scorcher. Armed with his ‘posh’ ticket, Steve went off to the grandstand area to watch the startline jollities; Malcolm and I trudged over the Dunlop Bridge and went down to watch the start from the outside of the first part of the Esses - on a well-inclined slope, looking straight at the cars as they descended the hill from the Dunlop Bridge towards the Esses.
We split up soon after the start… I continued to walk up to Tertre Rouge - watching from the inside, then through the tunnel there to the outside of the circuit. This was the first year that a pace car was used to neutralise the race, and I remember several incidents which required its deployment. It was only on Sunday morning, when I bought the newspaper, that I learned of the death of Jean-Louis Lafosse in the Rondeau. And only on the ferry back did I discover that a marshal had also been killed in separate accident earlier in the race. Such was the way of things in those days.
I headed back to the Esses, on the outside of the circuit, ignoring the dubious pleasures of the funfair while there was a race going on, as darkness began to fall.
Around 2am, I must admit to snoozing on the bank on the outside of the circuit, just before Tertre Rouge… it was completely dark and hard to see the numbers on the sides of the cars. I kept my notebook with me though, and had an appointment most hours (on the half-hour) to listen to Bob Constanduros give his English language update over the loudspeakers.
The path quickly petered out, but the cover of the trees provided a welcome respite from the heat of the day, which was building rapidly. I could see Armco barrier to my left and the flash of cars going past, through the trees, but the forest was too dense to get very close. There were a couple of rolls of barbed wire to hop over, I remember, but a couple of people way ahead of me, who seemed to know where they were going encouraged me to persevere. Then a few houses came into view, and eventually I came out at a large woodshed, and was able to find my way back into a proper spectator enclosure at the exit to Mulsanne corner.
I managed to find my way back to Indianapolis on the public road designed for such a journey - which saved me having to stumble over any more tree roots and pine cones, but deprived me of the view of the cars through the trees - and I watched the finish of the race from Arnage. By my watch, the flag marshals started invading the track waving with their flags a minute or two before four o’clock, which by my reckoning meant that the cars were still racing, which didn’t quite seem safe somehow. On the other hand, to watch the drivers respond, slowing down and acknowledging the marshals, stirred the emotions in a way that I wasn’t expecting. The sheer fatigue, shared by everyone, provided a huge sense of achievement. It brought a new angle to the meaning of “endurance”, more than just the achievement of winning the race, or a class, but just being there at the end, that even today I find difficult to put into words. As the cars passed on their final lap, the public was able to come onto the track as well, which gave me an ideal opportunity to walk back to the start-finish area on the track (a mere 4 kms), rather than going the long way round. Then it was back to the campsite, and I’m sure we must have gone out for a meal somewhere, but I remember only getting very grumpy with Malcolm and Steve. Not their fault, more the fact that I was unused to dealing with sleep deprivation.
(All photos copyright from my private collection)
I remember that a friend of mine from university, Steve Davison, had suggested a couple of times that we should go to Le Mans together, and finally we agreed to go ahead and do it. At the time I was living and working in Redhill, Surrey, and a work colleague of mine at that time, Malcolm Gimblett, also decided to come along.
So we booked ourselves a ferry (Portsmouth to Le Havre), got some tickets and set off; the three of us, with a tent each, in my Alfasud, heading for the White Panorama campsite. We left in the morning of Wednesday 10th June, with me driving, and Malcolm (who had longer legs) alongside advising on whether it was safe to overtake or not. I felt his indecisiveness and caution were slowing us down, though, so after a stop for fuel, we squashed Malcolm into the back seat, and Steve (who had ‘navigated’ for me on some University-run treasure hunts in the past) took over as co-driver. Most of the road down from Le Havre was quite clear - a couple of helpful locals flashing headlamps to warn of ‘Gendarmes ahead’ - and we made good progress. Even so, night was falling as we sought out the ‘Parking Blanc’ signs, which we reckoned we needed to follow, and finally we found our campsite just after 10pm. The plots were marked, but un-numbered, so we found a good-looking flat-ish plot, parked the car and decided that, as we could hear practice in full flow and the fact that it was due to continue until 11pm, we’d find the track and put the tents up later, despite Malcolm’s warning to us: “do you really think that’s wise?”
As it was so late, the gates were open, so we didn’t have to show our tickets, but simply scrambled up a bank and found ourselves on the outside of the circuit, just past the Dunlop Bridge. It’s one of those memories that has remained clear in my mind ever since. The image of cars having just crested the rise, appearing from underneath that famous bridge and thundering away from us, downhill toward the Esses has not faded. That final half-hour or so of practice; my first encounter with the narcotic that is Le Mans, was truly intoxicating. They were fast - so fast - and they were spectacular - headlights illuminating the way and turbo-chargers flaming out as drivers lifted off the throttle before the Esses. All mighty impressive.
After practice ended, we put the tents up, and on the Thursday morning Steve went off to buy himself an admission ticket. I can’t remember the details now, but I think I had sorted the camping and entrance tickets for Malcolm and me (probably through ‘Just Tickets’), but Steve hadn’t. No worries, we thought, until Steve came back, complaining mildly that he had had to pay rather more than we had for ours. So we compared them and discovered that his was “Enceintes General” and ours “Enceintes Virages”. We went back and established that this meant that Steve could get into the start-finish area in front of the main grandstands, but that Malcolm and I could not. This would only apply for the race itself, though: for practice this evening we would be able to go anywhere.
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| Lancia MonteCarlo - note token barrier to keep crowd out! |
At the time, I didn’t think much about the fact that we could get pretty much anywhere we liked during Thursday. The paddock in those days was spread out behind the pits, which were not the sophisticated and well-equipped garages of today. The teams were camped under awnings, where they worked on the cars between practices sessions and the cars had to be pushed round into the pit lane, to sit in front of the pit boxes, at the start of every practice session.
As a result spectators could wander around the transporters, awnings and motorhomes practically at will, and cars could be easily seen as they were being worked on.
We went up onto the top of the pits to watch practice for the support race (Renault 5 Turbos), then through the tunnel to the outside of the circuit to watch final practice (which was from 6pm to 10pm).
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| Tiff Needell in the IBEC, entering the pits straight |
I was reminded of Epsom Downs on Derby Day (when it used to be on a Wednesday), and the infield of the racecourse was open to everyone, and people turned up in their tens of thousands, not all interested in horse racing, not all honest, but every one contributing to the atmosphere of the event, making it something unique.
On Friday we went exploring into town to buy provisions. We drove round the track, at least as far as you could, we had a beer in the Restaurant des Vint-Quatre Heures, and then we went back and looked around the paddock some more, taking photos.
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| Derek Bell - can you imagine him allowing himself to be photographed like this nowadays? |
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| Brian Redman |
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| Pace lap - Mass ahead of Ickx in the Porsches |
I headed back to the Esses, on the outside of the circuit, ignoring the dubious pleasures of the funfair while there was a race going on, as darkness began to fall.
Around 2am, I must admit to snoozing on the bank on the outside of the circuit, just before Tertre Rouge… it was completely dark and hard to see the numbers on the sides of the cars. I kept my notebook with me though, and had an appointment most hours (on the half-hour) to listen to Bob Constanduros give his English language update over the loudspeakers.
As dawn broke, I decided it was time to visit other parts of the circuit, so started the walk from the Esses, down to the Dunlop curve and out onto the service road behind the grandstands (not forgetting my ‘contre-marque’). Not being allowed into the ‘tribune area’ I continued the walk until the point where holders of the “Virages” ticket were allowed back in. I watched the cars braking for the Ford Chicane and followed the track as far as the spectator enclosure went, in the direction Maison Blanche, which in those days was not very far. Then it was back onto the public road (aware that this used to be the track, before the Porsche Curves were built) all the way to the crossroads (now a roundabout) where the road to Arnage leads off to the right.
This was the road I took, conscious that I was headed away from the track, but plodding on with determined resolution. Over the level crossing, I turned left, following the sign to Virages Arnage and Mulsanne. It took me the best part of three hours, as I remember, and the merguez at Arnage when I finally got there was very welcome indeed. Arnage was wonderful in the morning sunshine - the marshals had a stork in the infield area, I remember.
I found a man selling Le Maine Libre and spent some time sitting on the bank overlooking Arnage corner. This was one of the few places where you could hear the loudspeakers and see the track at the same time, as the cars were off the throttle and not quite so loud. This enabled me to piece together some of what had been happening during the race and to recover after my long walk.
I then felt strong enough to continue my trek around the track, walking up to Indianapolis, then found a path leading into the trees, which seemed to be heading in roughly the direction of Mulsanne Corner.
The path quickly petered out, but the cover of the trees provided a welcome respite from the heat of the day, which was building rapidly. I could see Armco barrier to my left and the flash of cars going past, through the trees, but the forest was too dense to get very close. There were a couple of rolls of barbed wire to hop over, I remember, but a couple of people way ahead of me, who seemed to know where they were going encouraged me to persevere. Then a few houses came into view, and eventually I came out at a large woodshed, and was able to find my way back into a proper spectator enclosure at the exit to Mulsanne corner.
From here I could see the signalling area, and a suddenly gained another fascinating insight into how Le Mans works. One car actually stopped and the driver had an animated conversation with the signallers, before heading off again. Throughout it all, the Porsche 936/81 of Jacky Ickx and Derek Bell was running like clockwork and was getting further and further ahead of the opposition.
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| Bell in the winning Porsche at Tertre Rouge early in the race |
We drove back to Le Havre on Monday, taking a night ferry back and arriving in Portsmouth on Tuesday morning. And to start making plans to revisit in 1982.
(All photos copyright from my private collection)
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
Audi and Peugeot average lap times at the Le Mans Test Day
I wasn't actually at Le Mans for the Test Day, as I was away on holiday (in the sunshine of Tuscany) at the time. However, I have managed to get hold of the timing information from the two four-hour sessions.
I have been busy today trying to do my day job, but I have managed to spend a few minutes trying to work out what it all means. Inevitably, these are only first impressions, but I have examined the stints from the Audi and Peugeot works teams (not the Oreca car), which were more than 10 laps long, and it makes interesting reading:
This is an exhaustive list - all the stints over ten laps are shown, with the exception of Lamy's 13 lap stint when the safety car was out in the afternoon session. This included four laps "off the pace", which it serves no purpose to show.
I have also shown Kristensen's stint as being only 10 laps, although in fact it was 11. For some reason, TK's in lap was extremely slow - his time in the final sector being about one minute slower than it should have been. I don't know if this was a timing glitch, or a real event with an explanation. Maybe a reader can help? The stint in question was from 15:35 until 16:16.
In any event, if first impressions are anything to go by, Peugeot needs to find something like five seconds a lap if they are to get on terms with Audi. The fact that the Peugeot is more economical will not help if it is that much slower.
I have been busy today trying to do my day job, but I have managed to spend a few minutes trying to work out what it all means. Inevitably, these are only first impressions, but I have examined the stints from the Audi and Peugeot works teams (not the Oreca car), which were more than 10 laps long, and it makes interesting reading:
This is an exhaustive list - all the stints over ten laps are shown, with the exception of Lamy's 13 lap stint when the safety car was out in the afternoon session. This included four laps "off the pace", which it serves no purpose to show.
I have also shown Kristensen's stint as being only 10 laps, although in fact it was 11. For some reason, TK's in lap was extremely slow - his time in the final sector being about one minute slower than it should have been. I don't know if this was a timing glitch, or a real event with an explanation. Maybe a reader can help? The stint in question was from 15:35 until 16:16.
In any event, if first impressions are anything to go by, Peugeot needs to find something like five seconds a lap if they are to get on terms with Audi. The fact that the Peugeot is more economical will not help if it is that much slower.
Thursday, 14 April 2011
Duncan Dayton, Highcroft Racing
At the end of last month, I put a call in to Duncan Dayton, the team principal of Highcroft Racing, primarily to congratulate his team on its second place at Sebring, but also to discuss the prospects for the team for the remainder of the season. The idea was that the interview would appear in the pages of dailysportscar.com, but as it is now nearly two weeks since I delivered it to them, and it still hasn’t appeared, I thought I would post it here as a reward to my loyal readers.
Of the performances at the Sebring Twelve Hours, perhaps the most noteworthy was that of Highcroft Racing, with their brand new Honda Performance Developments ARX-01e. Although the Highcroft team were riding high as back-to-back ALMS champions in 2009 and 2010, they seemed to be starting the 2011 season on the back foot, having spent the majority of the winter “busting my butt trying to put a programme together” as team principal Duncan Dayton put it.
The main disappointment in 2010 had been a character-building run at the Le Mans 24 hour race, which perhaps merely confirmed that the French classic does not come easily to transatlantic visitors.
Some suggested that the step up to LMP1 for 2011 was perhaps too far for the Connecticut-based team, but for Dayton, partnering with HPD, it was a logical step, and where the Honda Performance Development crew wanted to be.
However, at Sebring, the timetable was mighty tight. The car arrived at the circuit straight from manufacturer Wirth Research, and proceeded to run faultlessly, confirming Dayton’s faith in the project. When I congratulated him on the result, he was typically modest: “Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good!” he joked.
Surely it wasn’t a question of luck? I put to him. “Well, clearly a couple of things were in our favour,” he replied. “One obviously, Wirth built us an incredible car and given the fact that it’s an evolution of a proven drivetrain, we had got a lot of miles on that package and we were reasonably sure that it would run the distance.”
Dayton went on to say that bodywork pieces for the car were being delivered up to the day before the race. And there were some issues getting those to fit.
And after the race? “We stayed on afterwards and completed 3,500 miles of testing and never even took the engine cover off. It’s a huge tribute to the boys and how they put things together.”
The biggest issue so far for the team has been getting the Michelin tyres to work. “We’ve had a hard time getting them to really come in as well as we’d like,” said Dayton on the subject of the tyres. “We just need to have some time to get that to be where it needs to be.”
In the light of the fact that the HPD was only 32 seconds behind the winning Peugeot at the end of Sebring, I suggested to Duncan that the indications were that the petrol cars were now on the pace of the diesels. “I don’t think so, because if you look at the R18 times the following day, they were running mid 45’s and I’m sure they weren’t running flat out. So there’s something like 3 seconds advantage at Sebring, which would be six seconds advantage at Le Mans. Marino’s best time in the test was 47.5 and they were routinely 45.5 and we were just carrying on with a real good base set up, and I’m sure they were still improving the R18 at Sebring.”
But racing is not all about ultimate pace, it’s about speed in the traffic, in race conditions, I reminded Duncan. “Yes, but even if you look at our race pace, we were a second or two slower than the R15 or the Peugeots. I’ve got to believe that at Le Mans with the R18, which is even a step up, with less drag on the straights, the bigger tyres for the corners and all the different advantages that they have, it’s going to still be a significant challenge for us.
But it must be reassuring that Pagenaud was able to keep ahead of the works Peugeot in the closing stages?
“Right, we were pushing as hard as we could. You know we weren’t full rich, because we were trying to save fuel; we realised quite early that the only chance that we had to beat them was on one less fuel stop. We weren’t going to be able to beat them on pace. And at the end, we kept telling Simon we’ve got to save fuel and go fast, which he was able to do, but we were on mix 4, which was as lean a mix as we’ve ever run, usually we would be running mix 3 and that would be as lean as we would ever go, but we weren’t making the fuel numbers so it was unfortunate that we couldn’t really chase the Oreca down, but I’m sure they had more in hand too, they had more fuel on board and they could have gone richer if they’d needed to.”
Despite the fact that the new car hasn’t yet done any running in the wet, Dayton was upbeat about prospects for Le Mans. “I will say that the car traditionally has been extraordinarily good in the wet. The P2 car was phenomenal in the wet. Oftentimes the drivers would hope that it would rain because it was just so fantastic. So I don’t think it’s anything that would be anything that would worry us.”
Also the fact that the HPD is an open car might be advantageous if it rains at Le Mans. “We think for sure it is better to be in an open car in the wet. We’ve heard from some of the drivers that the visibility in the R18 is quite bad. Clearly they’re going to have a heated windscreen, they’re not going to have to worry about fogging or anything like that, it’s more the debris. From that standpoint, then I think the drivers would much prefer to be in an open cockpit.”
Duncan’s last words were for the folks in Japan: “Obviously our hearts and minds go out to the folks in Japan… last year’s championship winning car was sent to Japan to HGT, which is the Japanese equivalent to HPD which was the base for their Formula One development, and they had the car on high stands and were looking at it, and just about to start taking it apart when the earthquake hit and the lift collapsed, and the car was crushed. One of the HGT associates was unfortunately killed in the earthquake so it’s definitely a tragic story from our standpoint. They were 30 miles from the epicentre. The uncertainty for us is that we don’t know - I don’t think they know yet - how that will impact the program in the long run - whether it will be cancelled because they have to focus on their own population and try and get things up and running and where they should be, or whether it would be something that would be a great rallying cry for the Japanese people to find some motivation and support.”
In any event, Duncan Dayton’s enthusiasm is still on full throttle for the remainder of the season, and Highcroft must be a favourite for another ALMS crown. And hopes are guardedly high for Le Mans, too.
This concludes what I submitted to dailysportscar, but our conversation also included some fairly stern comments that Dayton had for the ACO, which I didn’t include for dailysportscar readers, as I wasn’t sure how helpful they were. As your reward for reading this far though, here are some of Dayton’s thoughts about the Le Mans organising club.
In response to a question about the ability of the petrol-powered Highcroft HPD to compete equally with the diesel-engined cars from Audi and Peugeot, Dayton said: “The thing that frustrates me more than anything is the fuel fill time, because (at Sebring) we were 32 seconds down at the flag and every single pit stop their fuel time was anywhere from five to seven seconds faster than ours. And while I realise that they have a smaller fuel tank, as I understand the ACO regulations, the fuel fill times are supposed to be the same because the amount of energy is supposed to be equivalent as well. So they shouldn’t have an advantage in taking less fuelling time than us.”
Duncan has analysed the data well - by my calculations too, comparing the Highcroft car with the #2 Audi, fuel fill was on average 6 seconds faster for the diesel car.
The fuel tank sizes stipulated by the regulations are 75 litres for petrol and 65 litres for diesel. Fuel flow into the tank is governed by a restrictor, which is the same diameter whether for diesel or petrol, and since the viscosity of diesel is greater, it will flow more slowly into the tank. However, the viscosity is also dependent on temperature, so it may be that the high temperatures experienced at Sebring led to the faster diesel fuelling time.
I could find no mention in the regulations that the fuel fill times should be the same between diesel and petrol, though, so Dayton’s complaint would seem to be that the regulations have not been written the way that the ACO told him that they would be.
It is now clear that Highcroft will not be at the Le Mans test day on Easter Sunday, but when I spoke to him, that decision had not been made. Dayton was definite that the team would not - could not - be at both. “We’re weighing the relative merits of Long Beach versus the Test Day - ideally we would do both, but given the short turn-around time that the ACO has put in place, in some ways I think it’s kind of a slap in the face for the American competitors. Given that they (the ACO) own the circuit, that they could do it any day they want, why do they pick Easter and why do they pick a date that makes it almost impossible? Particularly for someone like us, who’s shop is on the East Coast, three days travel time by transporter to get the cars back here (to Connecticut from Long Beach), so that prohibits us from being able to ship it to the test day.”
I asked which event HPD would do, in that case.
“We do which ever one that HPD wants us to do. We hope to be able to defend our championship in the ALMS - the importance of having front line teams and really good prototype competition in the ALMS is critical at this juncture and the International Le Mans Cup (sic) has robbed American fans of consistent appearances by front line teams like Audi and Peugeot. And I think the ACO needs to be very careful about what they do in promoting this because if they kill the ALMS prototype division and they kill the LMS it’s cutting off their nose to spite their face. Without having a significant travel fund to support the privateers, (although we’re supported by HPD, we are a privateer team, clearly), we pay our own drivers, we pay our own staff, all that stuff is on our nickel, so for us to try to do six fly-away races, at a million bucks each, is beyond our capabilities. Is it really a “world championship” if you’ve only got Audi and Peugeot duking it out?”
Dayton’s enthusiasm for the sport is clear, but like many small fish, his passionate feelings spill over into his conversation.
“The other thing I would do if I were in Scott Atherton’s shoes - I’m not trying to tell him how to run his business - but I would say to the ACO: ‘you know, we would love to have two ILMC rounds, but they’ll be Elkhart Lake (Road America) and Laguna, but we’re not going to give you Sebring and Petit Le Mans because you’re going to come to those events anyhow.’ ”
“The other thing - this is an aside - but it galls me: if the ILMC comes to an ALMS round, (Sebring) why do I have to put a zero in front of my number, when they’re coming to our championship? We’re not going to theirs. It just goes to show the mentality that the ACO approaches this all with.”
At least you know where you are with Duncan Dayton. He is honest, straightforward and good at what he does. I can’t imagine such a straight-talking interview with anyone from the ACO, although I would love to have the opportunity!
Of the performances at the Sebring Twelve Hours, perhaps the most noteworthy was that of Highcroft Racing, with their brand new Honda Performance Developments ARX-01e. Although the Highcroft team were riding high as back-to-back ALMS champions in 2009 and 2010, they seemed to be starting the 2011 season on the back foot, having spent the majority of the winter “busting my butt trying to put a programme together” as team principal Duncan Dayton put it.
The main disappointment in 2010 had been a character-building run at the Le Mans 24 hour race, which perhaps merely confirmed that the French classic does not come easily to transatlantic visitors.
Some suggested that the step up to LMP1 for 2011 was perhaps too far for the Connecticut-based team, but for Dayton, partnering with HPD, it was a logical step, and where the Honda Performance Development crew wanted to be.
However, at Sebring, the timetable was mighty tight. The car arrived at the circuit straight from manufacturer Wirth Research, and proceeded to run faultlessly, confirming Dayton’s faith in the project. When I congratulated him on the result, he was typically modest: “Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good!” he joked.
Surely it wasn’t a question of luck? I put to him. “Well, clearly a couple of things were in our favour,” he replied. “One obviously, Wirth built us an incredible car and given the fact that it’s an evolution of a proven drivetrain, we had got a lot of miles on that package and we were reasonably sure that it would run the distance.”
Dayton went on to say that bodywork pieces for the car were being delivered up to the day before the race. And there were some issues getting those to fit.
And after the race? “We stayed on afterwards and completed 3,500 miles of testing and never even took the engine cover off. It’s a huge tribute to the boys and how they put things together.”
The biggest issue so far for the team has been getting the Michelin tyres to work. “We’ve had a hard time getting them to really come in as well as we’d like,” said Dayton on the subject of the tyres. “We just need to have some time to get that to be where it needs to be.”
In the light of the fact that the HPD was only 32 seconds behind the winning Peugeot at the end of Sebring, I suggested to Duncan that the indications were that the petrol cars were now on the pace of the diesels. “I don’t think so, because if you look at the R18 times the following day, they were running mid 45’s and I’m sure they weren’t running flat out. So there’s something like 3 seconds advantage at Sebring, which would be six seconds advantage at Le Mans. Marino’s best time in the test was 47.5 and they were routinely 45.5 and we were just carrying on with a real good base set up, and I’m sure they were still improving the R18 at Sebring.”
But racing is not all about ultimate pace, it’s about speed in the traffic, in race conditions, I reminded Duncan. “Yes, but even if you look at our race pace, we were a second or two slower than the R15 or the Peugeots. I’ve got to believe that at Le Mans with the R18, which is even a step up, with less drag on the straights, the bigger tyres for the corners and all the different advantages that they have, it’s going to still be a significant challenge for us.
But it must be reassuring that Pagenaud was able to keep ahead of the works Peugeot in the closing stages?
“Right, we were pushing as hard as we could. You know we weren’t full rich, because we were trying to save fuel; we realised quite early that the only chance that we had to beat them was on one less fuel stop. We weren’t going to be able to beat them on pace. And at the end, we kept telling Simon we’ve got to save fuel and go fast, which he was able to do, but we were on mix 4, which was as lean a mix as we’ve ever run, usually we would be running mix 3 and that would be as lean as we would ever go, but we weren’t making the fuel numbers so it was unfortunate that we couldn’t really chase the Oreca down, but I’m sure they had more in hand too, they had more fuel on board and they could have gone richer if they’d needed to.”
Despite the fact that the new car hasn’t yet done any running in the wet, Dayton was upbeat about prospects for Le Mans. “I will say that the car traditionally has been extraordinarily good in the wet. The P2 car was phenomenal in the wet. Oftentimes the drivers would hope that it would rain because it was just so fantastic. So I don’t think it’s anything that would be anything that would worry us.”
Also the fact that the HPD is an open car might be advantageous if it rains at Le Mans. “We think for sure it is better to be in an open car in the wet. We’ve heard from some of the drivers that the visibility in the R18 is quite bad. Clearly they’re going to have a heated windscreen, they’re not going to have to worry about fogging or anything like that, it’s more the debris. From that standpoint, then I think the drivers would much prefer to be in an open cockpit.”
Duncan’s last words were for the folks in Japan: “Obviously our hearts and minds go out to the folks in Japan… last year’s championship winning car was sent to Japan to HGT, which is the Japanese equivalent to HPD which was the base for their Formula One development, and they had the car on high stands and were looking at it, and just about to start taking it apart when the earthquake hit and the lift collapsed, and the car was crushed. One of the HGT associates was unfortunately killed in the earthquake so it’s definitely a tragic story from our standpoint. They were 30 miles from the epicentre. The uncertainty for us is that we don’t know - I don’t think they know yet - how that will impact the program in the long run - whether it will be cancelled because they have to focus on their own population and try and get things up and running and where they should be, or whether it would be something that would be a great rallying cry for the Japanese people to find some motivation and support.”
In any event, Duncan Dayton’s enthusiasm is still on full throttle for the remainder of the season, and Highcroft must be a favourite for another ALMS crown. And hopes are guardedly high for Le Mans, too.
This concludes what I submitted to dailysportscar, but our conversation also included some fairly stern comments that Dayton had for the ACO, which I didn’t include for dailysportscar readers, as I wasn’t sure how helpful they were. As your reward for reading this far though, here are some of Dayton’s thoughts about the Le Mans organising club.
In response to a question about the ability of the petrol-powered Highcroft HPD to compete equally with the diesel-engined cars from Audi and Peugeot, Dayton said: “The thing that frustrates me more than anything is the fuel fill time, because (at Sebring) we were 32 seconds down at the flag and every single pit stop their fuel time was anywhere from five to seven seconds faster than ours. And while I realise that they have a smaller fuel tank, as I understand the ACO regulations, the fuel fill times are supposed to be the same because the amount of energy is supposed to be equivalent as well. So they shouldn’t have an advantage in taking less fuelling time than us.”
Duncan has analysed the data well - by my calculations too, comparing the Highcroft car with the #2 Audi, fuel fill was on average 6 seconds faster for the diesel car.
The fuel tank sizes stipulated by the regulations are 75 litres for petrol and 65 litres for diesel. Fuel flow into the tank is governed by a restrictor, which is the same diameter whether for diesel or petrol, and since the viscosity of diesel is greater, it will flow more slowly into the tank. However, the viscosity is also dependent on temperature, so it may be that the high temperatures experienced at Sebring led to the faster diesel fuelling time.
I could find no mention in the regulations that the fuel fill times should be the same between diesel and petrol, though, so Dayton’s complaint would seem to be that the regulations have not been written the way that the ACO told him that they would be.
It is now clear that Highcroft will not be at the Le Mans test day on Easter Sunday, but when I spoke to him, that decision had not been made. Dayton was definite that the team would not - could not - be at both. “We’re weighing the relative merits of Long Beach versus the Test Day - ideally we would do both, but given the short turn-around time that the ACO has put in place, in some ways I think it’s kind of a slap in the face for the American competitors. Given that they (the ACO) own the circuit, that they could do it any day they want, why do they pick Easter and why do they pick a date that makes it almost impossible? Particularly for someone like us, who’s shop is on the East Coast, three days travel time by transporter to get the cars back here (to Connecticut from Long Beach), so that prohibits us from being able to ship it to the test day.”
I asked which event HPD would do, in that case.
“We do which ever one that HPD wants us to do. We hope to be able to defend our championship in the ALMS - the importance of having front line teams and really good prototype competition in the ALMS is critical at this juncture and the International Le Mans Cup (sic) has robbed American fans of consistent appearances by front line teams like Audi and Peugeot. And I think the ACO needs to be very careful about what they do in promoting this because if they kill the ALMS prototype division and they kill the LMS it’s cutting off their nose to spite their face. Without having a significant travel fund to support the privateers, (although we’re supported by HPD, we are a privateer team, clearly), we pay our own drivers, we pay our own staff, all that stuff is on our nickel, so for us to try to do six fly-away races, at a million bucks each, is beyond our capabilities. Is it really a “world championship” if you’ve only got Audi and Peugeot duking it out?”
Dayton’s enthusiasm for the sport is clear, but like many small fish, his passionate feelings spill over into his conversation.
“The other thing I would do if I were in Scott Atherton’s shoes - I’m not trying to tell him how to run his business - but I would say to the ACO: ‘you know, we would love to have two ILMC rounds, but they’ll be Elkhart Lake (Road America) and Laguna, but we’re not going to give you Sebring and Petit Le Mans because you’re going to come to those events anyhow.’ ”
“The other thing - this is an aside - but it galls me: if the ILMC comes to an ALMS round, (Sebring) why do I have to put a zero in front of my number, when they’re coming to our championship? We’re not going to theirs. It just goes to show the mentality that the ACO approaches this all with.”
At least you know where you are with Duncan Dayton. He is honest, straightforward and good at what he does. I can’t imagine such a straight-talking interview with anyone from the ACO, although I would love to have the opportunity!
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
Le Mans Test Day - Easter Sunday
With a little over a week until the Le Mans Test Day on Easter Sunday, the time is right to anticipate what we might glean from it. The bad news is that I won’t be there, as we booked a family holiday more than a year ago, so we shall be away in Italy while the eyes of the sports car world will be on Le Mans. However, I am hoping that data will be available, and that even if I can’t be there, I will at least be able to draw something out of the events of the weekend.
In any case, what we learn may well be limited, since the lap times recorded will not necessarily be an indication of potential race laps in June. Allan McNish said to me, following his four-day test of the Audi R18 at Sebring last month: “My guess is that we may not know until qualifying at Spa in May,” in answer to the question of where Audi would be in terms of pace and the opposition, “as we’ll all be on various programmes on the Le Mans test day. Even then, it could be raceday at Spa before a clear picture plays out.”
On the subject of the Sebring test, McNish revealed that the two R18 chassis had been on different programmes - one of which was an endurance test, but he didn’t say (wouldn’t say) what the other programme was. My guess would be that it was to do with fuel consumption on different engine maps, but that is pure speculation. Almost certainly there will be a car at Le Mans from both Audi and Peugeot looking specifically at fuel consumption and, more importantly, the number of laps that can be completed on a tank of diesel.
The fact that Peugeot has announced that they will be running only the three 908s at the test day - and not the hybrid car - is hardly a surprise. They have had a number of setbacks during their testing thus far and their focus must be on avenging the defeat last year in the 24 hours. Ultimately, it will be down to achieving top marks in two categories: pace and consistency. Perfection in the pits and reliability on the track will be essential.
I got the feeling from McNish - both when I spoke to him in person at Paul Ricard and in email discussion after Sebring - that Audi is optimistic. But for both Peugeot and Audi, the less powerful cars demanded by this year’s regulations means that for the first time since Peugeot and Audi have competed together at Le Mans, both manufacturers are at the same point in the development cycle.
McNish recognises the problem: “In reality we are still very much in the early learning stages and trying to understand what makes this car (the Audi R18) tick. It is a very different concept from the mechanical and engineering point of view, so we’re learning all of the time.”
In any case, what we learn may well be limited, since the lap times recorded will not necessarily be an indication of potential race laps in June. Allan McNish said to me, following his four-day test of the Audi R18 at Sebring last month: “My guess is that we may not know until qualifying at Spa in May,” in answer to the question of where Audi would be in terms of pace and the opposition, “as we’ll all be on various programmes on the Le Mans test day. Even then, it could be raceday at Spa before a clear picture plays out.”
On the subject of the Sebring test, McNish revealed that the two R18 chassis had been on different programmes - one of which was an endurance test, but he didn’t say (wouldn’t say) what the other programme was. My guess would be that it was to do with fuel consumption on different engine maps, but that is pure speculation. Almost certainly there will be a car at Le Mans from both Audi and Peugeot looking specifically at fuel consumption and, more importantly, the number of laps that can be completed on a tank of diesel.
The fact that Peugeot has announced that they will be running only the three 908s at the test day - and not the hybrid car - is hardly a surprise. They have had a number of setbacks during their testing thus far and their focus must be on avenging the defeat last year in the 24 hours. Ultimately, it will be down to achieving top marks in two categories: pace and consistency. Perfection in the pits and reliability on the track will be essential.
I got the feeling from McNish - both when I spoke to him in person at Paul Ricard and in email discussion after Sebring - that Audi is optimistic. But for both Peugeot and Audi, the less powerful cars demanded by this year’s regulations means that for the first time since Peugeot and Audi have competed together at Le Mans, both manufacturers are at the same point in the development cycle.
McNish recognises the problem: “In reality we are still very much in the early learning stages and trying to understand what makes this car (the Audi R18) tick. It is a very different concept from the mechanical and engineering point of view, so we’re learning all of the time.”
Tuesday, 5 April 2011
Circuit Paul Ricard
The six hour race at Le Castellet last weekend was the first time I had been to the Circuit Paul Ricard, and I thought it might be worthwhile to write a little about the experience. If you have already been there yourself, then feel free to agree or disagree; and if you haven’t, then maybe this might serve as a guide and encourage you to make the trip at some point in the future (or otherwise).
The journey.
I was surprised at how easy a trip it is. I managed to get a return flight from British Airways for £122 leaving Gatwick at 06:40 on Saturday morning, arriving at Marseille’s Marignane airport at 09:35. I had booked a hire car from Hertz for £64, which was ready and waiting for me, and although the clock was wrong, I was on my way east towards Marseille not long after ten o’clock.
Without any SatNav, I was relying on a printed out route from Google maps, which had warned me about a partial toll road (paid by Visa, not sure how much, but surely only a couple of Euros). But it all went horribly wrong at Aubagne, when I mistakenly left the motorway at one of those exits at which you can’t rejoin.
I probably spent about 20 minutes in the narrow and picturesque streets of Aubagne, past a busy Saturday market, eventually going somewhat out of my way through Gémenos, before finding road signs to Le Castellet and the D396 towards the circuit.
I had media accreditation through dailysportscar, which meant that I could pick up my pass from the Best Western Grand Prix Hotel, a few hundred metres to the west of the main entrance to the track.
I had booked a room at the Etap hotel in the Industrial Zone of Les Paluds Agora on the outskirts of Aubagne for the Saturday night, which cost me a further 50 Euros (including breakfast), which was about 15 minutes from the track, and my only other cost was 17 Euros of diesel for the hire car and parking at Gatwick Airport. Food at the track was kindly provided by Carlo and his staff at Smoking Dog (although I did sample a ‘baguette jambon’ from one of the track catering facilities), and I was suckered into buying a round of drinks for a motley crew of journalists and photographers at Marseille airport on the flight home while waiting for the 23:55 departure.
So all told, I reckon the trip cost me no more than £280, which I reckoned represented reasonable value for money.
The track.
The circuit is located in a fairly desolate region in the hills between Marseille and Toulon. The landscape tries hard to be spectacular, wide valleys separating rising hills, and a winding road up to the circuit.
The entrance to the circuit is at the entrance to the Le Castellet resort hotel, a five-star spa hotel where a room will cost you more than 300 Euros a night, and whose gates you drive past before going under the road bridge towards the circuit’s ticket barriers.
My first impression was good - the circuit staff were friendly and courteous as my pass was checked and smiles greeted me as I was waved into the press car park. The spring sunshine may have helped, but the place looked clean, tidy and well-maintained. Sadly, the press car park was not surfaced and spaces somewhat haphazardly marked, but that really was the only thing I could fault it on.
Having made the trip, I didn’t want to spend all my time in the media centre looking at TV screens, so I made the effort to get out into the spectator enclosures to better feel the atmosphere of the place. (I did the same thing at the Algarve circuit when I first visited, too, but I wasn’t blogging then… let me know if you’d like me to write something about it retrospectively.)
The site itself is very long and narrow and as it is primarily a test venue these days (of course, it was not ever thus), I was not expecting much in the way of options for the spectator. However, I was pleasant surprised and not at all disappointed.
Opposite the pits are quite steeply banked open grandstands, offering a good view of the start and into the pits.
From here, you can wander the round the track in the opposite direction to the cars, to the Grand Prix Hall, where you can stand on a high balcony overlooking the final tight right-hander, the Virage du Pont (Bridge Bend?), which leads onto the start-finish straight. Various refreshments are available here, which is a good idea, as from here you can walk all the way to the far end of the circuit, and although you cannot get as far as Signes, you can watch the cars exiting there and coming down to Beausset, the long right-hander which follows.
For this race, two large screens were available, loudspeakers carried the track commentary (and Radio Le Mans was on FM, albeit rather scratchy if you went beyond the Grand Prix Hall).

I’m not sure how well the PA commentators kept up with the race (in fact I’m not sure who was commentating, as I don’t think Bruno Vandestick was there) and of course when captions came up on the big screens, they were not always easy to read unless you were very close. TV directors assume that their audience is watching from armchairs in lounges on flat-screen Panasonics, to the cost of folk on the spectator bank at the track looking at a screen a hundred metres and more away.
What also made the race more difficult to follow was that the ‘position lights’ on the sides of the cars were not always working properly. In the closing stages of the GTE battle, both the AF Corse and the JMW Ferraris were showing one green light on the side, so it was impossible to tell who was actually leading. Having implemented a good idea, it needs to be made to work correctly, otherwise, what’s the point?
Conclusion.
Overall, a very good trip. The schedule meant that I was away just under forty-eight hours, and I have to admit that work on Monday morning was a bit of a struggle. But the Provence sunshine was good for the soul, and being my first race of the year, of course I was going to enjoy it. The track itself is interesting, with all kinds of different corners. It may not be a great or classic place, and the elevation changes are only subtle, compared to the Algarve or Spa, but everything about the place seemed just right in some way.
I’m ever so glad I went - thanks to my wife for letting me do so!
The journey.
I was surprised at how easy a trip it is. I managed to get a return flight from British Airways for £122 leaving Gatwick at 06:40 on Saturday morning, arriving at Marseille’s Marignane airport at 09:35. I had booked a hire car from Hertz for £64, which was ready and waiting for me, and although the clock was wrong, I was on my way east towards Marseille not long after ten o’clock.
Without any SatNav, I was relying on a printed out route from Google maps, which had warned me about a partial toll road (paid by Visa, not sure how much, but surely only a couple of Euros). But it all went horribly wrong at Aubagne, when I mistakenly left the motorway at one of those exits at which you can’t rejoin.
I probably spent about 20 minutes in the narrow and picturesque streets of Aubagne, past a busy Saturday market, eventually going somewhat out of my way through Gémenos, before finding road signs to Le Castellet and the D396 towards the circuit.
I had media accreditation through dailysportscar, which meant that I could pick up my pass from the Best Western Grand Prix Hotel, a few hundred metres to the west of the main entrance to the track.
I had booked a room at the Etap hotel in the Industrial Zone of Les Paluds Agora on the outskirts of Aubagne for the Saturday night, which cost me a further 50 Euros (including breakfast), which was about 15 minutes from the track, and my only other cost was 17 Euros of diesel for the hire car and parking at Gatwick Airport. Food at the track was kindly provided by Carlo and his staff at Smoking Dog (although I did sample a ‘baguette jambon’ from one of the track catering facilities), and I was suckered into buying a round of drinks for a motley crew of journalists and photographers at Marseille airport on the flight home while waiting for the 23:55 departure.
So all told, I reckon the trip cost me no more than £280, which I reckoned represented reasonable value for money.
The track.
The circuit is located in a fairly desolate region in the hills between Marseille and Toulon. The landscape tries hard to be spectacular, wide valleys separating rising hills, and a winding road up to the circuit.
The entrance to the circuit is at the entrance to the Le Castellet resort hotel, a five-star spa hotel where a room will cost you more than 300 Euros a night, and whose gates you drive past before going under the road bridge towards the circuit’s ticket barriers.My first impression was good - the circuit staff were friendly and courteous as my pass was checked and smiles greeted me as I was waved into the press car park. The spring sunshine may have helped, but the place looked clean, tidy and well-maintained. Sadly, the press car park was not surfaced and spaces somewhat haphazardly marked, but that really was the only thing I could fault it on.
Having made the trip, I didn’t want to spend all my time in the media centre looking at TV screens, so I made the effort to get out into the spectator enclosures to better feel the atmosphere of the place. (I did the same thing at the Algarve circuit when I first visited, too, but I wasn’t blogging then… let me know if you’d like me to write something about it retrospectively.)
The site itself is very long and narrow and as it is primarily a test venue these days (of course, it was not ever thus), I was not expecting much in the way of options for the spectator. However, I was pleasant surprised and not at all disappointed.
Opposite the pits are quite steeply banked open grandstands, offering a good view of the start and into the pits.
From here, you can wander the round the track in the opposite direction to the cars, to the Grand Prix Hall, where you can stand on a high balcony overlooking the final tight right-hander, the Virage du Pont (Bridge Bend?), which leads onto the start-finish straight. Various refreshments are available here, which is a good idea, as from here you can walk all the way to the far end of the circuit, and although you cannot get as far as Signes, you can watch the cars exiting there and coming down to Beausset, the long right-hander which follows.
For this race, two large screens were available, loudspeakers carried the track commentary (and Radio Le Mans was on FM, albeit rather scratchy if you went beyond the Grand Prix Hall).
I’m not sure how well the PA commentators kept up with the race (in fact I’m not sure who was commentating, as I don’t think Bruno Vandestick was there) and of course when captions came up on the big screens, they were not always easy to read unless you were very close. TV directors assume that their audience is watching from armchairs in lounges on flat-screen Panasonics, to the cost of folk on the spectator bank at the track looking at a screen a hundred metres and more away.
What also made the race more difficult to follow was that the ‘position lights’ on the sides of the cars were not always working properly. In the closing stages of the GTE battle, both the AF Corse and the JMW Ferraris were showing one green light on the side, so it was impossible to tell who was actually leading. Having implemented a good idea, it needs to be made to work correctly, otherwise, what’s the point?
Conclusion.
Overall, a very good trip. The schedule meant that I was away just under forty-eight hours, and I have to admit that work on Monday morning was a bit of a struggle. But the Provence sunshine was good for the soul, and being my first race of the year, of course I was going to enjoy it. The track itself is interesting, with all kinds of different corners. It may not be a great or classic place, and the elevation changes are only subtle, compared to the Algarve or Spa, but everything about the place seemed just right in some way.
I’m ever so glad I went - thanks to my wife for letting me do so!
![]() |
| The winning Pescarolo in the paddock after the race |
Friday, 1 April 2011
Casualty of the Japan earthquake
I have learnt recently that Highcroft's ALMS winning HPD chassis has been crushed in the Japanese earthquake. Apparently it had been shipped out there for HGT to look at (in the former Honda F1 base, about 30 miles from the epi-centre) when the earthquake struck. One of Highcroft's partners was also killed, it seems.
Our thoughts of course are with all those who are affected by these and the other tragic events around the world. Some things make motor sport seem quite frivolous.
Our thoughts of course are with all those who are affected by these and the other tragic events around the world. Some things make motor sport seem quite frivolous.
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