[Perfectlap]

I grew up in go karts before turning to autocross. I read the below article and realized back then that speed is basically the same for karting, bikes, skiers and cars... Until you have the seat time you aren't going to be able to connect the eyes to the medula. There will be that disconnect between what your and hands and feets are doing and the signals your eyes are interpreting. Eventually it becomes one. You drive with your eyes, the part of your noggin that makes you slow the hell down. You are betrayed by your hands and feets that want you to go 10/10's not just on the straight bits but where you are most prone to lose time.

autocrosser turned pro racer Randy Pobst:
"Posted (02/27/2005) - My Epiphany, the moment I understood true speed.

Driving a race car to it's fastest possible speed around a closed course involves a balance between aggression and restraint. When I was a nineteen year-old novice autocrosser, I did not yet really have a grasp of this concept. I drove like a raving maniac. However, in a real detriment to my early career, my times were just quick enough to convince me that I knew it all.

It was years before I began to understand what the wiser drivers at those early autocrosses tried in vain to tell me: "Slow down and you'll go faster." Shoot, I was beating them, what'd they know? Here's a little story of the greatest driving epiphany of my twenty-seven years of competition, courtesy of Pro Solo.

Fact is, solo racing is a great way for the beginning driver to learn how to make speed, develop car control and improve mental discipline. And it is cheap. It is how I started.

I know Solo only comes one minute at a time, but what an intense, non-stop, fast-forward car control exercise minute it is. Sure, the velocity is higher in road racing, but inside the car it is slow-motion in comparison. In Solo, the turns come like machine-gun rounds.

One of the best things about it is that one can drive over and above the ragged edge, time and time again, with no more damage than a few dozen downed pylons. This very fact may have saved my life, a dozen times over, and certainly saved a few Datsuns, Fiats and Rabbits.

When I stumbled upon my first autocross, I awakened a nine-hundred pound Gorilla inside. It rose and took me by the throat, grunting "You...must...race." Driving as fast as I could on a closed course gave, and still gives, a profound pleasure and satisfaction I find almost nowhere else (don't ask). Challenge, sensory excitement, a little danger, and utter, riveting focus.

1983. Sacramento Pro Solo. Following my Gorilla muse, I had dedicated my life to winning the Pro Solo series that year (Hey, Mr Penske, it was big to me!), and had driven that VW all the way from Florida.

After the practice rounds, it was clear I had a nice lead in the class. In those days, it made sense to win by as little as possible for a good dial-in time in the overall runoff among the classes. I realized my best strategy was to slow down a bit, leave a little on the table. Yes, sandbag. Today's rules and level of competition eliminate that tactic.

So, I leave the line, aiming to run just a half-second slower per side. Full blast acceleration, but then I enter the corners with little drama, smooth and relaxed. Not my usual hair-on-fire self. Wind it down into the corner, apex carefully, then unroll like a carpet to the exit. No waste. No monkey-motion. Efficient.

Finish sleepy run. Calmly check time for casual slowness. It's... faster. What? Faster. How is this possible? "Ba-bling", a giant bulb pops to light above my head. Holy driving Gods, that's what they meant! Slow down and you'll go faster. Speed truth. I have worked to drive in exactly the manner of that run ever since.

I was spending way too much time beyond the limit. 110%. Too aggressive. Over-driving. I needed the balance of some restraint. Others need to attack more. How can you know?

Maximum speed is using 100% of your tires' grip, 100% of the time, combined with the highest possible corner exit speed. Not too much slide, not too little. That's why smooth is fast.

Most tires like about a 10% slide or slip angle. Throughout braking, turning, and most of the corner exit, the car should be in a slight drift. I prefer a little oversteer on entry, a little understeer on exit. No drift? Too slow. Sideways? Too fast. Backwards? Hope it is a Solo, or at least you read my "Good Crasher" column.

Here's hoping you have found your Driving Epiphany.

Reprinted Courtesy of "Sportscar Magazine"
March Issue