Monday, 17 October 2011

Death

When I was first captivated by motor racing, it was not uncommon to read of drivers being killed. Jim Clark, Lorenzo Bandini, Mike Spence; they all perished within 15 months of me visiting Brands Hatch for the first time in 1967. And through the seventies, a steady stream of names came to be added to the list of drivers who died at the wheels of their fearsomely fragile cars.

And as my teenage years gave way to my twenties, I compared my life to that of my father, who spent the same period of his life in the Royal Navy during World War II, where young men met untimely deaths on an even more frequent basis, but I never spent much time on philosophical reflection.

Now I am in my fifties, and more and more friends, colleagues and relatives are having problems with their health, often (as the NHS would put it) with ‘negative outcomes’.

And in most cases, there is no rhyme nor reason why certain folk are victims and others seem to lead ‘charmed lives’. Regular readers (should) know that I am a Christian: that I faithfully believe in heaven (and hell) and that after we finish these lives on earth there is something more to come. So I am not about to get morbid here.

All that said, nothing can prepare you for dealing with the sudden death of anyone, be it close relative, dear friend or sporting hero. But that is not to say that you cannot be prepared. Try it now - just imagine that you hear of the death of the one person on earth that you feel closest to: how would you deal with it? Don’t dwell on it though, don’t become depressed, just give it a few moments thought. Now imagine how that person will deal with the news of your death. Are there things that need to be resolved, discussed, agreed? Again, I am not suggesting anything too deep here, just planting some seeds, which might grow, especially if there is a particular need.

In the last decade or so (it might have been the death of Diana, Princess of Wales that started it), there seems to me to have started a trend for disproportionate outpourings of grief at sudden deaths, especially those that hit news headlines. I have heard it called ‘emotional correctness’, and it is an apposite term.

I am not denying the tragedy of death (particularly in the case of young racing drivers in accidents), but I sense a whiff of self-aggrandisement in a sort of “my eulogy is better than your eulogy” way. Or “Look at me I'm upset” - whatever became of private grief? Thousands of families every week go through the same sort of agonies, all suffering the same sense of loss, but without hundreds of media-types jumping on bandwagons and starting campaigns. The death of Senna changed Formula 1, that of Dale Earnhardt changed NASCAR, but after the dust settles, the “sport” continues; brave young men (and women) take risks and observers - be they in the organisation, the media or the spectator enclosures - become complacent once more.

The other thing that irks me is the use of the phrase “passes”, instead of “dies”. I am not being insensitive or uncaring here; but these things happen, reports have to be written and despite my faith, I find that the word “passing” lacks the impact of “death”. I understand that it is more common to use it in the USA, but for me, it is another Americanism that we in England can do without.

Sorry if this appears harsh - that is not my intention. I suppose I am just expressing my feelings. I never could quite get my emotions right.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Britcar 24 hours at Silverstone

It grieves me that it has taken me so long to get this blog posted. The fact is that my day job has been occupying a great deal of my time recently, and I haven’t been able to devote as much time as I would have liked to this little hobby of mine. Anyway, on the grounds that it is better to write something late than nothing at all, let me share with you some observations about the Silverstone 24 hour race.

Of course, the weather was the highlight of the weekend. Temperatures peaked at about 28 degrees C, and there was not the hint of a chance of rain throughout. For those who braved the cold and wet of last year’s event it was a stark contrast.

Silverstone, October? Surely not?
The spectators were treated to a great race, too, from the 57 starters who took part.

On the circuit PA system, we (I) made quite a fuss about breaking the 2,000 mile distance barrier, which in the end was quite easily achieved (in fact it was achieved by all the podium finishers). We also had an arcane discussion on the PA about what that represented (Hanoi to Saigon, anyone?). Well, to put it in a better context, if you would plan a route from Silverstone to Castle Combe, and then to Pembrey, north to Oulton Park, across the Pennines to Croft, then south to Snetterton, Brands Hatch, Thruxton and back to Silverstone, you would, according to Google Maps, have to drive 1020 miles. So do that twice, and you have a rough idea of how far the winning car travelled over the course of the race.

I’m not sure how many readers here actually listened to the commentary, either at the circuit or over the live ‘webstream’, which apparently was being provided from the Britcar website - but I would be interested to know, so leave a comment for me one way or another. In any event, those who know me will know that I try, during the race, to keep track, and I find I am setting myself an increasingly tough load, in terms of working out the pattern of the race, pit strategies and average lap times. I sometimes wonder if it is worth it. Or if there is a better way.

The trouble is that it is hard work keeping tabs on the race while trying to keep a flow of commentary going, as happened this year during the wee small hours when Brian Jones, in the pit lane, and I (in the main box) were keeping our listeners informed, while the other members of the team took breaks.

It was certainly a race of attrition, just as a 24 hour race should be. In contrast to the more celebrated 24 hour race in June in France, I would be surprised to learn if any of the entrants had done a 24 hour test prior to the race, and this led to a much more interesting scenario as the Silverstone 24 hours unfolded and the race was in a continual state of uncertainty.

The official results show 43 classified finishers out of the 57 starters. However, of these, six were no longer participating in the race, and did not receive the chequered flag, but according to the regulations, there was no need to do so, the qualification criterion being merely to complete 50% of the distance covered by the winner. Of the remaining 37 cars, 21 received outside assistance, in the shape of a “tow-back” to the pits having stopped out on the circuit. By my calculations, an amazing 34 such “roadside recovery” operations took place during the race, the biggest beneficiary being the Piranha Motorsport Ginetta G40, no. 91, which stopped three times on the track and was brought back to the pits each time, in order to resume its race.

That left just 16 runners at the end, who took the chequered flag after 24 hours without receiving the organiser’s help. Then there was John Thorne’s BMW no. 60, which did not receive outside assistance, but completed only 171 laps (less than 30% of the race winner’s distance), at an average speed of 26mph, thus counting, in my book as “running but not classified”. The others, it should be noted, completed more than 70% of the winner’s distance.
The view from the commentary box
I’m not complaining though. There was a good crowd at Silverstone at the weekend, the atmosphere was great, and quite apart from considerations for the entrants themselves, to watch 17 cars plodding round the full Grand Prix circuit in the closing stages would not have encouraged many of them to return. So rather, let us applaud the efforts of Silverstone’s recovery units, for enabling more than half the field to continue racing when stricter rules would have seen them excluded.

One of the difficulties about working out the strategy in a Britcar race is the rule that enables cars to run with fuel tanks of up to 120 litres, but only to re-fuel a maximum of 75 litres per pit stop. Especially when the limit is 25 litres during safety car periods. So it is hard to know exactly how much fuel is on board any particular car, and the length of a stint is correspondingly hard to calculate.

However, the following table is an interesting comparison of the five fastest Class 1 cars average lap times for their longest two stints.

I fear that some of this might be misleading, since these are specifically the longest stints achieved during the race, not the fastest - but it is clear how much the fuel pick-up problem hampered the Strata 21 Mosler, even though it was quite quick when it was running well. And there doesn’t seem to be much wrong with the fuel consumption of the Aquila. Incidentally, it is interesting that it managed two 32-lap stints with average lap times of 2m 11.5s (Martin) and 2m 12.4s (Berridge).

The tow-back feature means that looking at the time spent in the pits is tricky, but at least for the first three cars home it is possible to look at the numbers. Consider this:

Time spent in Pits:
2 - Eclipse Ferrari: 1h 03m 50.34s (24 stops)
49 - Nick Mee Racing Aston Martin: 43m 39.01s (19 stops)
57 - Marcos Racing Lotus Evora: 1h 15m 47.07s (24 stops plus two stop and go penalties)

Note that only the time of the second placed Aston Martin approaches the sorts of times spent in the pits from last year’s race - last year, none of the top three finishers spent longer than 40 minutes in the pits. Interesting, eh?

Finally, the winning Eclipse Ferrari was one of only a few to have only three drivers on the crew. With father Mike McInerney unable to drive at night, this meant that the rota was pretty gruelling. Here’s how it broke down:

Mike McInerney - 145 laps - 5h 50m 03s
Sean McInerney - 197 laps - 8h 17m 09s
Phil Keen - 231 laps - 9h 23m 21s

For these numbers, I have excluded the time spent in the pits for driver changes, but included those pit-stops where re-fuelling, etc., but no driver change took place.

And there's more from Phil Keen on dailysportscar this week, thanks to Mark Howson’s efforts.

My home for the 24 hours...

Monday, 26 September 2011

The emergence of a new technology.

I have mentioned before that I am a fan of (and a subscriber to) the French language ‘Le Mans Racing’ magazine - and an article caught my eye in the most recent edition, that I thought might interest my readership here. It is all about the emergence of LED headlamp technology, and I translate (and paraphrase) it below:

It was well-publicised by Audi, praised by the drivers who used it and also criticised by GT drivers who spoke of being blinded, but LED headlights hit the headlines in the recent 24 hour of Le Mans. They also achieved an historic victory.


Since their invention, car headlights have always evolved - from traditional tungsten bulbs to halogen. In both cases though, the same principle is used - a filament (wire) in a glass bulb. For a few years, xenon headlights have become more widespread. The bulb consists of two electrodes sitting in xenon (a gas) under high pressure. An auxiliary system that generates a high voltage of 20,000 volts starts the illumination of the gap between the two electrodes; then the voltage is reduced to 85 volts as soon as the beam is started.


A few years ago LED headlights appeared in concept cars at shows and exhibitions, giving designers greater freedom - enabling them to design cars that did not have merely round headlamps. And this year, for the first time, LED headlights appeared in competition, fitted on certain cars in the 24 hours of Le Mans. LEDs (Light Emitting Diodes) consist of a semi-conductor which converts electric current directly into light, and a lens ensuring that the light forms a beam. One can also put a mirror behind the LED (like in a traditional headlight).


Advantages
There are several advantages.
The delay to illuminate an LED is extremely short - between 2 and 10 milliseconds - this is especially useful when flashing headlights, compared to 150ms to 300ms for halogen lights.


Since about 80% of the energy is converted to light, compared to 20% for traditional bulbs (the rest is converted to heat), headlights with equal brightness consume much less current.


The temperature of the emitted light is 6000 Kelvin, which amounts to a very white light, comparable to daylight. This is identical to that produced by xenon headlights (but compares to only 3000K for halogen, which are slightly yellowish). But the light is more diffuse, less violent than xenon and the lighting is more “comfortable”, and permits better distinction of the features of the road. In fact, halogen headlights produce a luminosity of 1500 lumens, xenon bulbs about 3200 lumens and a headlight with 6 LEDs produces about 1500. The light produced is therefore less bright than xenon, and therefore induces less glare.


The additional weight of xenon lights is also an important consideration - the combination of the weight for the projection equipment and the bulb itself is around 1.1 - 1.2kg, compared to 650g for a headlight consisting of 9 diodes. The integration into the bodywork is also simpler: no big projector to install, less heat generated, a flexible and adaptable shape along with a reduced volume; and it is the last two reasons that are important in racing circles.


In summary, then, LEDs are light, easy to install, use a little less current than xenon and a lot less than halogen and produce a less violent and a slightly less glare-inducing light than xenon but more homogenous and comfortable than halogen.


Victory at Le Mans
Only three models of car - all LMP1 - were equipped with LED headlamps at this year’s 24 hours. Of course there were the three Audi R18’s and in addition two of the four Oak Pescarolos. The 2011 version of the Peugeot 908 had a mixed lighting system, with a single LED lamp situated above the more traditional xenon lights. Although the LEDs of Audi and Oak came from the same supplier (Osram), the installations were completely different on the two cars. The implementation on the Audi was specific to the R18. On each side of the car was a double vertical beam, with 5 diodes on the outside of the headlamp and three on the inside. Behind these diodes were placed many mini-reflectors. Only the outside part was illuminated during the daytime.


Oak Racing replaced the three traditional Xenon headlights on each side of their Pescarolos by three LED
projectors, supplied by the RaceTech Harnessing. One of these had six diodes, and the other two had just three, all equipped with lenses to focus the light.


In the final classification, with one Audi followed by three Peugeots, the four first positions were occupied by cars using LED headlights.


Finally, note that this technology, which is already present on the rear lights of some road cars, will be rapidly used for road headlamps - and this has already been authorised by the EU.


Apologies for the slightly clunky English - that’s why I am not a professional translator. In any event, I found it interesting, as is RaceTech Harnessing’s website: http://www.racetechharnessing.co.uk/. I get the impression that in a few years' time we will look back on 'bulb' technology as something very quaint. Remember when number plates used to be black and white?

Monday, 19 September 2011

Silverstone 6 hours - 30 hours at Becketts

Readers of this blog don’t come here to read race reports or the latest news from the sportscar scene. So if that’s what you’re after, I suggest you read elsewhere. What I try to bring you, dear reader, is an alternative view: occasionally a deeper view, but in any case something that you can’t read elsewhere. For that reason, I would like to share my experiences of being at Silverstone for the 2011 ILMC/LMS Six Hour race. And I apologise that it’s taken me so long to get this out, but the demands of work and home life have been particularly great recently.

Anyway, the organisers asked John Hindhaugh and his crew from radiolemans.com to provide PA commentary for the whole meeting, including practice, qualifying and all the support events. This is just what I used to do, years ago, before family pressures came along, and hence I was asked to be at the Becketts commentary box from nine o’clock on Friday morning until the end of track action on Sunday evening.

OK, so I was allowed out to attend the teamDOT AGM on Friday evening, and to get my meals (thanks to Carlo and his team at the Smoking Dog). And thanks too to Gail at Linford Stables, where I spent very quiet and comfortable Friday and Saturday nights. But other than that, I was at my post throughout - and I have to say, I was very happy to be there. One of the drawbacks about commentating these days is that I often find myself removed from ‘the action’. I get a great view of the start finish straight at Le Mans, and can see wonderfully into the pits, but I really miss not being able to see cars actually racing, in the same way that spectators can. Watching on a TV when you’re there misses the point, to my way of thinking.

The view from the box at Becketts is outstanding. I could see the cars through Farm Corner (turn 2), Village, The Loop, Aintree and out onto the Wellington Straight. Then they went out of view at Brooklands, Luffield and the National Straight. But I could see them again out of Copse, through the astonishing Becketts esses before they went out of sight again. From the back rows of the grandstands (that were open to the public) either on the outside of Becketts, or on the outside of Village, the view would have been even better.

Throughout the weekend, a steady flow of spectators trudged past, on their way to other viewing locations, but they all had smiles on their faces. Less cheerful were the media, team and VIP types who had to catch the bus from Silverstone’s new nerve centre at The Wing to the car parks at the other end of the estate. What I cannot understand is why buildings such as The Wing, while they are impressive visual edifices architecturally, do not provide either a media centre with windows, or commentary boxes with anything like a decent view of the circuit. Even though Hindhaugh’s box overlooked the start finish area, there was no view of the pit lane, and in order to watch cars come out of the final corner one had to climb up onto the table in front of the commentary box window. If I had been trying to do a manual lap chart from there, it would have been nigh on impossible.

Apart from the logistics of getting from one place to another, I think Silverstone has a fine circuit these days though. Fast, sweeping corners in abundance and a couple of tight, technical bits to demand compromises to set-up and precision in driving. It is a good, wide circuit where overtaking is possible. And I was amazed at how quickly it dried out after a couple of rain showers that crossed the circuit over the weekend. The pit garages are cavernous, although not suitable for a fifty-car entry, which really needs more garages of a smaller size. As for the pit lane itself - it is a curiosity: very wide, with a huge expanse of grass between the pit lane and the pit wall; and seemingly descending into a trench at the far (pit-out) end as it strives for a level track surface where the contours around it are climbing upwards. I didn’t measure it, but it seemed to be to be half the length of the pit-lane at Le Mans.

Now is not the time for ‘what-might-have-been’, but I just wonder if the possibility was considered to build the pits and have the start/finish on the Wellington Straight (formerly known as the National Straight)?

Anyway, what of the race itself? It was probably not a classic, although most of the ingredients were there to make it one. What impressed me most of all was how close the Audi and Peugeots were. In a sense it was the perfect race - the difference was not in the cars, but in the drivers: having to make several overtaking decisions every lap; evaluating risk, judging closing speeds, avoiding collisions. And the difference, as far as the outright result was concerned, was down purely to those factors: not mechanical breakdowns, or weather, or safety car interventions.

Just how close the top four works diesels were is shown in the following table. This shows the average lap time for each driver, ignoring full course caution periods and those laps where accidents, spins or other incidents occurred, and ignoring time spent in the pits.


For comparison, I also show the best lap for each driver, although note that for the purposes of this I include ‘in laps’, which at Silverstone in its current configuration, is shorter than the normal racing lap. An asterisk shows if the lap was an ‘in lap’ (i.e. it terminated in the pit lane).

Was Peugeot a worthy winner? Or did Audi throw away a chance of victory? Let’s have a look at ‘Time spent in pits’ for each of those cars: The number in brackets for Audi no. 2 and Peugeot no.8 includes an estimate of the time lost on the track while recovering from their respective off-track excursions. In McNish’s case, this was around 58s lost on a slow lap back to the pits; for Montagny I have added 7m 15s while Franck (and the marshals) man-handled the car out of the gravel at Copse Corner.

At the end of the race there was 1m 29.763s between the no 1 Audi of Bernhard/Fässler and the no 7 Peugeot of Bourdais/Pagenaud. The difference in time spent in the pits was 1m 03s. Bernhard lost about 17s when he spun on lap 40. So even allowing for this, the Peugeot seems to have deserved its victory - although that is not to say that had certain events turned out differently, that we could have had a different result.

What I find puzzling, but what time has not allowed me to find out, is why the delayed Peugeot of Montagny / Sarrazin and the delayed Audi of McNish / Kristensen finished three laps apart, when the amount of time that each lost was nearly the same. It could be a glitch in my data, but I haven’t had the opportunity to dig more deeply.

For those whom it interests (are there others out there like me?) full details of the pit stops for the four diesels are as follows:

Peugeot no. 7 - Start driver Sebastien Bourdais.
Stop 1 (lap 25) Fuel only - 59s
Stop 2 (lap 53) Driver change: Bourdais to Pagenaud; fuel; tyres - 1m 27s
Stop 3 (lap 79) Fuel only - 1m 00s
Stop 4 (lap 105) Driver change: Pagenaud to Bourdais; fuel; tyres - 1m 27s
Stop 5 (lap 132) Fuel only - 1m 00s
Stop 6 (lap 159) Driver change: Bourdais to Pagenaud; fuel; tyres - 1m 29s
Stop 7 (lap 185) Fuel only - 35s


Audi no. 1 - Start driver Timo Bernhard
Stop 1 (lap 25) Fuel only - 58s
Stop 2 (lap 53) Driver change: Bernhard to Fassler; fuel; tyres - 1m 24s
Stop 3 (lap 79) Fuel only - 58s
Stop 4 (lap 105) Driver change: Fassler to Bernhard; fuel; tyres - 1m 26s
Stop 5 (lap 131) Driver change: Bernhard to Fassler; fuel; tyres; rear bodywork - 2m 27s
Stop 6 (lap 157) Fuel; change front left tyre - 1m 09s
Stop 7 (lap 183) Fuel only - 38s


Audi no. 2 - Start driver Allan McNish
Stop 1 (lap 23) Fuel; tyres; inspect damage after contact - 1m 33s
Stop 2 (lap 24) Fuel; front left tyre; suspension; bodywork - 12m 53s
Stop 3 (lap 50) Fuel only - 58s
Stop 4 (lap 77) Driver change: McNish to Kristensen; fuel; tyres - 1m 28s
Stop 5 (lap 104) Fuel only - 59s
Stop 6 (lap 131) Driver change: Kristensen to McNish; fuel; tyres - 1m 25s
Stop 7 (lap 158) Driver change: McNish to Kristensen; fuel; tyres - 1m 30s


Peugeot no. 8 - Start driver Franck Montagny
Stop 1 (lap 9) Accident repairs: front left; fuel; tyres - 7m 58s
Stop 2 (lap 37) Fuel only - 57s
Stop 3 (lap 63) Driver change: Montagny to Sarrazin; fuel; tyres - 1m 23s
Stop 4 (lap 89) Fuel only - 59s
Stop 5 (lap 115) Fuel; tyres - 1m 26s
Stop 6 (lap 140) Driver change: Sarrazin to Montagny; fuel; tyres - 1m 22s
Stop 7 (lap 159) Fuel only - 49s

I'm back at Silverstone again in a couple of weeks - for the Britcar 24. Should be fun - I'm looking forward to it. Hope to see you there.

Wednesday, 31 August 2011

The Man Who Caught Crippen - Joe Saward

"The Amazing Life of Henry Kendall"
I have previously expressed my admiration for Joe Saward here; indeed to an extent his blog was the inspiration for me to start my own. I read his previous book ‘The Grand Prix Saboteurs’, and was surprised to find that I enjoyed it a lot more than I expected.

My thoughts (written in May last year), are here.

‘Grand Prix Saboteurs’ is not a book about motor racing; it is about people and what they got up to during the Second World War. And as Joe explained somewhere, ‘The Man Who Caught Crippen’ has absolutely nothing to do with motor-racing at all. And although this blog is supposed to be about racing, I decided to make an exception, merely because this book is a jolly good read.

In many ways it is a lot simpler than ‘Grand Prix Saboteurs’, as it focuses purely on the exploits of one man. But that man’s life spanned 91 years, through war and peace, and was a good deal more adventurous than most.

Typically, Joe’s research is meticulous, detailed and thorough. The political and economic times through which Kendall lived are explained, as is relevant background history, with an engaging and readable style. Joe has that knack of writing prose that flows, and keeps the interest of the reader with a stream of riveting, sequential ideas.
I am not a big fan of biography, nor do I have any particular interest in ships or things maritime (although my father, ex-Royal Navy, would have loved it if I would have) - nevertheless I found this a gripping story, told with vibrant colour and detail. There are typos (not as many as there were in ‘Grand Prix Saboteurs’) and the photographs are of a pretty poor quality - but I would rather have them there than not have them at all.

I am not going to spoil the story for you by saying any more - read the book and let me know your thoughts!


Friday, 5 August 2011

Audi road cars

I’ve written here before about my enthusiasm for Audi’s road cars. A company that spends as much money on racing as Audi, does so in the certain belief that it helps it to sell road cars. And as part of that endeavour, I occasionally have the opportunity to sample cars from their UK press fleet.


Recently, I have had the chance to drive both an A6 saloon, and an RS5 coupe. The A6 had every conceivable extra on it, even though it was only sold as the SE, rather than the higher specification S-line. But it was interesting to try out some of the gizmos that are available these days.

The first thing to say is that my ‘normal’ car - the one that I regularly drive around in and the one which I bought out of my own money - has Audi’s Adaptive Cruise Control (ACC), so I am used to that, and no longer find it ‘gimmicky’ at all. In addition to this, the A6 had Audi’s “Active Lane Assist” and “Side Assist”, fitted as extras. The Side Assist system consists of an orange light on the inside of each wing mirror, which lights up if there is a car travelling alongside, and blinks vigorously if you then indicate in that direction. I found this useful, although there is no substitute for actually turning your head and looking to see if the way is clear.

The Lane Assist was extremely clever. Really only useful in motorway driving, it ensured that you stay in your lane, by applying gentle inputs to the steering wheel to keep you within the white lines marking the lane. In effect, with the ACC on, and Lane Assist working, the driver doesn’t need to do anything - the ACC will keep you at a constant speed and avoid running into the car in front and the Lane Assist will keep you in your lane (provided that there aren’t any sharp corners). Unfortunately, Lane Assist notices when you don’t make any steering inputs yourself and shuts itself off with a warning on the dashboard that you should “continue to steer the vehicle”.

Less useful was the system which turns off the engine when you are idling. In fact it became more of an irritation really. I had experienced this on a manual Audi before, and found it quite good. With the S-tronic gearbox fitted to the A6 though, it would cut the engine while you were stationary, with your foot on the brake, but as soon as you shifted to neutral and applied the handbrake, it fired up again. And at toll booths, I found it would switch of completely, meaning that I had to manually restart the engine to get away. I’m sure I could get used to it, but it wasn’t an intuitive system at all. However, the fuel economy of the 3 litre turbo diesel was most impressive.


Fuel economy and the RS5 do not really fit in the same sentence. The “dynamic” button provides plenty of thrills and a wonderful auditory experience, but means that you get through V-power at a rate of 13mpg. At least, I did. Before I go on to eulogise about the performance though, a word about the gimmicks. The RS5 was fitted with hill-hold assist, which applies the handbrake whenever you reach a standstill. The car comes with the automatic gearbox (S-tronic) as standard, and personally, I find it is easy to get used to the way that it ‘rolls’ on tickover. There is an electro-magnetic handbrake, which can be manually applied when you want it, and which releases as soon as you accelerate. This is fine, but I found the hill-hold somewhat intrusive. It is easy enough to disable, but my advice would be not to bother specifying it as an extra.

The gimmick I did like was the advanced “smart key”. These are increasingly common these days in high-specification cars, but in effect you don’t need to do anything with the key, just make sure it is in your pocket. Doors and boot unlock automatically when you touch the handle, and you then press the starter button to fire up the engine and away you go. When you get out, just move your hand over the door handle, and you’ve locked it. Don’t do what I did the first few times though and check that the door is locked, as then it will cleverly unlock itself for you again!

Enough of optional extras. The beauty of the RS5 is the driving experience. It is superb. The normally-aspirated 4.2 litre V8 engine provides 450bhp and a 0 - 100km/h figure of 4.2 seconds. Quattro four wheel drive does the rest - road-holding and traction that are so sure-footed that you wonder why all cars can’t do this. I’ve mentioned the “dynamic” button already - but in “Auto” mode, the car works out whether you are being dynamic or not and gives you the appropriate setting. I’m not going to enter an argument about whether it is better than the BMW M3 or not - as I am not qualified to judge, but various colleagues expressed their opinions to me - largely gained from watching Top Gear, I’m afraid. Interestingly, Autocar suggests that the RS5 is quicker. (What? “Top Gear” in misrepresentation of truth shock? Surely not?)

Personally, I found the RS5 a lovely-looking car, plenty of space for adults in the back, and room in the boot for golf clubs (if that’s what you need). At around £60,000 when you’ve put the optional extras on, it is beyond what I would consider spending on a car, but with the R8 V10 costing nearly double, the RS5 is certainly not in the ‘unrealistic’ category.

The biggest problem I had with the RS5 was its need to be driven fast. In an R8, one can enjoy driving slowly, safe in the knowledge that heads will turn as you pass. With the RS5, driving slowly didn’t seem to be an option, somehow. And folk in front would happily move out of the way of an R8, but seeing the RS5 in the rear-view mirror seemed to merely make people stay in the way for longer. Apologies to those whom I may have irritated, but my need to explore the acceleration capability of the car (without necessarily exceeding any speed limits), often meant that overtaking had to be done. Amazing how some people seem to regard overtaking as a heinous crime these days.

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

The FIA World Endurance Championship of 2012

Essentially, I am an old-fashioned sort of bloke. I get a great deal of pleasure from remembering how things used to be and wishing, wistfully, for those days to return. Of course I don’t really mean it; the fact of the matter is more that I yearn for the days of my youth because I yearn for my youth. The days when I was younger, I was fitter and more carefree, I suppose. Now I am older, I am wiser, but have to consider more carefully the fact that I shall not live (in this world) for ever.

History is important though. Although Winston Churchill is often credited with saying that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it, it was George Santayana who originally coined the phrase in 1906 (The Life of Reason) - “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

I would like to think that by not merely remembering, but more importantly, understanding what happened in the past, we can behave more appropriately in the present. And it is this that motivates me to pay attention to what is going on and to try and get under the skin of it a bit, and not just take everything at face value. I know that this can be infuriating to those close to me, but it’s just the way I am.

I am also fundamentally a positive person. I tend to think that things will be OK. As the toast slips from my fingers, I just know that the butter side will land uppermost. Even if things don’t quite go OK, I know that they will turn out OK in the end. There’s always another piece of bread that can go in the toaster. I tend only to prepare for the worst when it happens (perhaps I have more in common with the Murdoch family than I ought to have).

So when the announcement was made that there would be an FIA World Endurance Championship next year, my initial reaction was one of welcome. I had, after all, posed the question at the beginning of the year, asking why we had the Intercontinental Le Mans Cup and not an FIA-sanctioned world championship. And most of the people that I posed the question to thought that although the ACO was doing a reasonably good job of organising the ILMC, an FIA World Championship would be a good thing.

Indeed, now that the announcement has been made, most of the major players are saying publicly that it is a good thing, that to have a World Endurance Championship - organised by the FIA - will improve things for everybody. However, in private, a number of people have vouchsafed to me their misgivings: where will the rounds be? How will it be organised? Who will take part? Is there a place for privateers? How will performance balancing be achieved? What about the GT classes? What happens to the Le Mans Series and the FIA GT World Championship?

But on the positive side, there has been no shortage of announcements. At Le Mans came news of the Le Mans Delta Wing car, to run at Le Mans in 2012, but outside the regulations, making use of the provision of the ACO for innovative technologies. There were two other “new technology” proposals as well, applying for the 56th entry at Le Mans. Then Porsche announced their intended participation with an LMP1 car in 2014. And hot on Porsche’s heels, an all-electric Lola from Drayson Racing. This week came news that Jaguar is going to build an LMP1 car. The intentions of Lotus in LMP1 are perhaps more hopeful than realistic, but these are all the kinds of announcements which indicate that interest in Endurance racing in general, and Le Mans in particular, is high.

The FIA may be the senior partner, but in the coalition of the ACO and FIA that now exists, it is the ACO which seems to be forcing the pace: particularly in the areas of new technologies. The ACO has long appreciated the value of diversity in the entry list at Le Mans, but by reserving its 56th garage for a “special case”, where someone can run outside the regulations, they need to take care that the recipients of this entry do not turn into too many blind alleys. New technology, yes - wacky racers, no thanks!

Talking of the 56th entry, when 56 cars took the start this year, I was blithely commenting that it was the first time that more than 55 cars had started since 1955 (when there were 60). But I had overlooked 1975. Reading Quentin Spurring’s excellent “Official History” book provided the nugget that in 1975, 56 cars also started the race; even though only 55 had qualified. Fausto Morello, from Ecuador, entered in a Porsche Carrera RSR which had failed to qualify, decided to take the start anyway. He managed three laps before anyone noticed!

Anyway, back to the present and the World Endurance Championship. Despite the major revisions to the regulations this year, I think that next year will prove to be more of a new start. Certainly there are questions hanging open at the moment. But importantly, there is time (at the moment) to address them. Provided that things get nailed down before the end of October, then there is every prospect of a successful championship. It may sound a little harsh, but the ALMS and the LMS have no intrinsic right to exist. As I have argued before, a World Championship, of which the 24 hours of Le Mans can be a part, should exist - even though it has not always been so. To my mind, the hierarchy should be ‘top-down’ - in other words, the top level championship should be well-defined, before subsequent layers beneath that can be formulated. What has happened in recent years is that the ACO and the ALMS have ‘gone global’, without the full sanction of the world governing body. And while that has worked well in the last 10 years or so, there needs to be a controlling influence. My big concern is that the control that the FIA will impose will be benevolent and not malicious. But hey, I’m optimistic.