Hi guys, A few weeks ago, I spent a pleasant holiday ambling around the country lanes= =20 of England in my GT-350 clone, taking my septuagenarian mother on a tour of=20 some of the more rural parts of the country. It was all really quite pleasa= nt,=20 but I was itching for something a bit more aggressive, an opportunity to=20 really push the car to the limit. What I really wanted was some track time. Bless the Royal Auto Club, for they were kind enough to stage an event that=20 would fit the bill perfectly. It was a two-day track event, to be held at t= wo=20 different tracks, not altogether unlike the type of track events we routinel= y=20 attend in the United States. The difference? The tracks themselves. For=20 they would not be running on weedy little piss-ant club tracks like Thunderh= ill,=20 or even wanna-be major tracks like Laguna Seca. No, these guys were going f= or=20 the big-time. Day One: N=C3=9CRBURGRING! Day Two: SPA! Now, I have had the opportunity over the past ten years or so to drive many=20 of the legendary European F-1 tracks, including Imola, Monza, Hockenheim, Di= jon=20 and Silverstone, as well as several other smaller, regional tracks. And I=20 even took a surreptitious lap of Spa (breaking through the barrier to get ou= t=20 onto the track surface) in a Ford Transit van with nine terrified C-141=20 crewmembers hanging on for dear life. But to drive these tracks at speed, all day, in my own car, was simply an=20 opportunity too good to pass up. Initially, I balked because of the high entry cost (795 pounds, or roughly=20 $1400), arguing that I really couldn=E2=80=99t afford to do it. But upon fu= rther=20 reflection, I concluded that I=E2=80=99d never have this sort of opportunity= again, and in=20 that light, I really couldn=E2=80=99t afford NOT to do it! And so it was with much excitement that I packed my bags, including my helme= t=20 and video camera and roll bar mount for the first time, and on a Thursday=20 night, merrily skipped across the Atlantic, utilizing my American Airlines=20 employee pass privilege to recombine in the splendor of First Class aboard a= 777 to=20 London, where the car had been left a few weeks prior. Arriving a few days early in order to ensure my body clock would be=20 sufficiently reset, on the Saturday, I accompanied Geoff Peters on a shakedo= wn run in=20 his newly-locomotive Pantera, equipped with an all-aluminum 427-inch=20 Windsor-based stroker that delivers 550 hp and 550 ft/lbs of torque. Geoff=20= wanted a=20 motor that he could lug, as opposed to rev, and to that end he had a ridicul= ously=20 tall rear end ratio installed in the gearbox, which delivers a full 40 mph=20 per 1000 rpm in top gear (240 theoretical mph at redline, if the aerodynamic= s=20 would allow it, which they won=E2=80=99t).=20 We sailed briskly down the A-3 (not quite a freeway, but close enough to it=20 for our purposes) and then via country lanes, arriving at Goodwood to meet u= p=20 with some other UK De Tomaso club members there. On the drive home, Geoff was feeling his oats, and we were cruising at a ver= y=20 relaxed 90 mph or so (verified by GPS, since the speedometer hasn=E2=80=99t=20= been=20 re-calibrated for the new gear ratio and reads a full 20 mph off!) At one p= oint=20 progress was blocked by a dullard who failed to yield to faster traffic, ca using us to slow briefly. Once he moved, down into third gear and whoosh, t= he car=20 just went. In an instant we were at 125 mph, then shifting to 4th, then=20 relaxing back into 5th and slowing again. Later Geoff told me that he has y= et to=20 find the courage to open the throttle more than halfway! I can only imagine what this car will feel like once he comes to grips with=20 its prodigious power output. The next morning, I packed my car (having done little to it other than=20 checking the oil and water) and set off for Dover, where the ferry would tak= e me=20 across to France. I noted that the roads seemed unusually empty, even for a= =20 Sunday morning, and my progress was rapid indeed, despite intermittent=20 rainshowers. When I got to the ferry I was absolutely astounded to see how=20= early I was,=20 and then it dawned on my that daylight savings time had taken effect overnig= ht=20 and I had forgotten to reset my watch, thus getting up (and arriving) an hou= r=20 sooner than planned! Oh well, that would give me that much more time to amble across France and=20 Germany. The crossing was uneventful, and I rolled off the ferry at 9:00 a.m. and soo= n=20 found myself on the French Autoroute. Sailing along, I made a point of taking the time to look out the windows and= =20 admire the turning leaves, and the splendid rolling countryside pockmarked=20 with ancient villages and isolated stone barns. The air was crisp, with the= =20 smell of burning leaves from time to time. It was an absolutely flawlessly=20 beautiful fall day in France, with virtually no traffic on the Autoroute. A= fter a=20 gas stop I continued on, confident that I would arrive at the N=C3=BCrburgri= ng early=20 enough to take in the fine museum they have there. BANG! What was that? Sounded like I ran over something in the road, for there was= =20 a very distinct sound of something hitting the inside of my right rear=20 wheelwell. And yet, the roadways are extremely clean and devoid of debris,=20= and I=20 hadn=E2=80=99t noticed anything in front of me? For a moment, I considered that I might have had a blowout, but I dismissed=20 this for two reasons: 1) The car was still driving just fine at 80 mph, and more importantly, 2) I don=E2=80=99t have a spare, meaning a blowout is an impossibility. Having satisfied myself that there was nothing really wrong, I still took a=20 few exploratory side-to-side cuts at the wheel, and noted that the rear end=20 felt a bit, ah, mushy. At about the same time, the existing wocka-wocka-woc= ka=20 noise that my rear end has always delivered (dunno what it is, but it=E2=80= =99s been=20 doing it for 10 years) was augmented by an ever-so-slightly louder=20 wocka-wocka-wocka sound. Uh-oh. I eased over to the shoulder just a second too late to make an offramp, and=20 came to a stop just after crossing under an overpass, prior to the onramp. =20= I=20 got out of the car, wandered around to the right rear corner, and saw that t= he=20 tire was looking decidedly secondhand, especially in light of the fact that=20= it=20 had two, three-inch diameter holes in the sidewall. Hmm. My can of fix-a-flat is going to struggle mightily to cure that. I remembered that last year, I=E2=80=99d picked up a nail in that tire which= had been=20 repaired by plugging it, from the outside. I had always intended to pull th= e=20 tire and have it patched properly with a mushroom plug from the inside, but=20 one thing kept leading to another, and it kept holding air just fine, so I s= ort=20 of forgot about it.... And so I resigned myself to a rather more complicated drive than I had=20 originally envisioned. I hiked up to the crossing road, noted that it was t= he=20 D-945, and that I was immediately abeam the town of Armenti=C3=A8res, and th= en by=20 looking on my map, I was able to pinpoint my location exactly, at Sortie (Ex= it) 8,=20 about 10 miles outside the city of Lille. Thankfully I had a fully-charged cell phone with me. I am on George=20 Gordon-Smith=E2=80=99s all-singing, all-dancing Royal Auto Club recovery sch= eme, so I called=20 the RAC emergency breakdown center in Lyon, and reported my predicament. With Gaullic logic, they told me that although I had full roadside recovery=20 coverage, they couldn=E2=80=99t actually recover the car from the motorway,=20= because it=20 is privately owned. Had I managed to roll up the onramp, they would have be= en=20 glad to send a tow truck, but since I was on the motorway, there was nothing= =20 they could do. Wonderful. They then told me to dial 112 (which is the French equivalent of our 911) an= d=20 make arrangements there. The person there asked for my location, which I=20 duly provided, then transferred me to (somebody?) local, who was completely=20 incapable of understanding a single word of English. In my incredibly inept= =20 French, I told him that I was on the A-25 at Sortie Huit, my pneu was kaput=20= and I=20 needed a camion. Okay, okay, he said. And so I waited. And waited. With nothing better to do, I began to phone around to various people seeking= =20 advice on how I should deal with the not-having-a-spare-tire situation in=20 France on a Sunday. France is essentially closed on Sundays, you see. My first call was to Claude Dubois, the former European distributor for=20 Shelby and GT-40 cars in the 60=E2=80=99s, and later the De Tomaso distribut= or through the=20 80=E2=80=99s. He was only about 60 miles up the road in Brussels, and I tho= ught he=20 might have some ideas. He has clients in the area who own GT-350s and he=20 thought I might be able to borrow some tires from them, but none of them wer= e home,=20 and there were no tire shops open in the city. Ah well. I then called Stephane Bergeron, my buddy outside Paris who is restoring his= =20 early Pantera, and who I was scheduled to visit later in the week. I told h= im=20 that I=E2=80=99d been waiting for over an hour for a tow truck and thought t= hat=20 perhaps the message got garbled somehow, so I gave him my location, and aske= d him=20 to call for me and Parlez Vous with the appropriate agency, ensuring that th= e=20 message would get through. He wound up getting put in touch with the local=20 fire department, which then transferred him to MY local fire department, who= then=20 transferred him to the local motorway towing service, and they said they=E2= =80=99d=20 get right on the whole tow thing. He called back and explained to me that not only was it going to be=20 impossible to source tires on a Sunday, but that if they were ordered on Mon= day, it was=20 likely they wouldn=E2=80=99t be delivered until Wednesday, because Tuesday i= s=20 November 1st, which is a holiday! And then, depression set in.... =E2=80=9CLet me work on eet, I call you back!=E2=80=9D he said. =20 Another hour passed. I watched as several notable cars, clearly participant= s=20 on the event I was poised to miss entirely, went whizzing past, without=20 stopping. One car did stop, a fellow who recognized me from earlier events=20= we=E2=80=99d=20 participated on, but there was really nothing he could do, so he pressed on. Another hour passed, Stephane called me back to find out where I was, and=20 when I told him I hadn=E2=80=99t moved an inch, he said he would take care o= f it. A few=20 minutes later, he called me back. =E2=80=9CI ave a friend, we have not seen each other for feefteen yeers, but= we had=20 deener last weekend. He leeves in Lille, and will be there with you in a fe= w=20 meenutes.=E2=80=9D At that moment, a car materialized, not behind me, but in front of me. And=20 out stepped Paul Montmartin. Paul, as it turns out, is one of the top-ranki= ng=20 federal law enforcement officers in France, basically equivalent to the depu= ty=20 director of our FBI. We introduced ourselves, I explained that I=E2=80=99d=20= been=20 there for three hours now, and he was shocked, and said he=E2=80=99d get it=20= sorted=20 straight away. He phoned the tow company, and they told him that if there R= EALLY was=20 a car broken down on the side of the road, the call would be coming in from=20 one of the emergency phones which are located every few miles. Because the=20 call was coming from a cell phone, they concluded it was a prank, and told h= im=20 they would NOT send a truck! Right. So, something else must be done. As it happens, Paul knows the home= =20 phone number of the Chief of the CRS, the Compagnie Republicane de Securite=20= -=20 Anti Riot Police. These aren=E2=80=99t your local town cops, these are like= our state=20 troopers, except with big sticks and machine guns (they've since been rather= =20 busy as you well know!) So, he calls the chief and tells him our story. Two nanoseconds later, a CRS car appeared and two officers got out, and=20 informed us that the tow truck was proceeding in our direction with all due=20= haste. Okay, so things were looking up. The CRS officers couldn=E2=80=99t have looked more different. One appeared=20= just as=20 you might expect a CRS officer to look, with an expression that would lead y= ou=20 to believe that the only thing that might elicit a smile would be breaking=20 somebody=E2=80=99s back. The other guy looked and acted just like Gomer Pyl= e, and he was=20 almost peeing his pants in excitement at getting to see a Mustang up close=20 and in person! He, also, didn=E2=80=99t speak a word of English, but I was able to figure o= ut that=20 the Mustang is his brother=E2=80=99s very favorite car. He asked to see the= engine and=20 was astounded at how huge it was (quatre point sept litre), and then=20 sheepishly asked if he could sit inside it for a moment. Of course! He got= behind=20 the wheel and it was as if all his birthdays had come at once! Soon afterwards, the tow truck arrived, and the car was winched aboard. I=20 hopped in Paul=E2=80=99s car and we followed them for about seven miles down= the=20 motorway, taking the next exit, Sortie 8.... Wait a minute...Sortie 8? But I just spent the last four hours sitting at=20 Sortie 8, didn=E2=80=99t I? I later looked at the map again. =20 Oh those bastards. =20 The D-945 meets the motorway from the north at Sortie 8, and continues=20 heading south at Sortie 9! So the whole time I had been telling people I wa= s at the=20 wrong place! In fact, the tow company was located only a few hundred yards=20 from Sortie 8, and at the first two calls, they had sent a truck only to fin= d=20 nobody there! Grrr.... Anyway, Paul asked about the prospects of finding a matching pair of Z-rated= =20 225/60-15 tires (any brand) and there was much shuffling of feet and=20 tooth-sucking among the garagistes. In the meantime, Stephane had phoned to= say that=20 he had found ONE tire shop open in Paris on the Sunday, and they had exactly= =20 two tires that would fit the bill, and did he want me to go get them and del= iver=20 them to me that night? Wow. That is not a trivial matter, for the distances involved are great. =20 But seeing no other option, that became the plan. Stephane would fetch the=20 tires and deliver them, and in the meantime Paul (who is not a car guy, and=20= who of=20 course I=E2=80=99d never met) would take care of me, getting me set up and b= ringing=20 me back out to my car in the morning. Amazing.... So with the car locked up and Stephane launched on his mission, Paul took me= =20 to his house, introduced me to his family, and then (due to a lack of space=20= in=20 his home) took me to a super-cheap but perfectly adequate Comfort Inn where=20= I=20 got a room for the night. He then asked me if I=E2=80=99d ever been to Lill= e, and=20 when I told him I hadn=E2=80=99t, he took me on an hour-long windshield tour= of the=20 city, culminating with another hour spent sitting at a sidewalk caf=C3=A9 on= a lovely=20 town square, relaxing and getting to know one another, and also discussing t= he=20 rapidly escalating situation with the Muslim rioters in the ghettos. Then it was back to his house, where Stephane finally arrived with the tires= =20 (Bridgestone Europa or something like that, W-speed rated, and made in=20 Poland), his whole journey taking some five hours (!) due to problems on the= motorway=20 both going into and out of Paris. We then went for a splendid dinner in the= =20 most noteworthy restaurant in Lille, where I passed on the mussels (for whic= h=20 they are particularly known) in favor of a superlative Confit de Canard avec= =20 frites. The next morning, Paul picked me up and delivered me back to the garage,=20 where a young technician set to mounting them on the wheels (I wanted to hav= e a=20 matched pair since I wasn=E2=80=99t able to get the same style of tire that=20= I had=20 originally). I noticed a couple of rally cars on trailers, and learned that= he was=20 a well-known local rally driver, so after the car was fixed, I offered to ta= ke=20 him for a quick ride in it. He=E2=80=99d never been in a Mustang of course=20= (and also=20 spoke not a word of English), so I grasped at my limited French to try to=20 describe its driving characteristics, then abruptly pulled over, pointed at=20= him=20 and back at me, and said =E2=80=9Cshan-jay=E2=80=9D (chang=C3=A9, literally=20= =E2=80=98change=E2=80=99), and leapt=20 out of the driver=E2=80=99s seat. He took the wheel and gunned it all the w= ay back to=20 the garage with a monster grin on his face. :>) So, by 10:30 a.m., the car was fixed, and after a heartfelt thanks to Paul,=20= I=20 was on my way. (In fact he insisted on leading me all the way through Lille= =20 even though I was more than capable of finding my way, just to make sure I=20 wouldn=E2=80=99t get lost). =20 The event at the N=C3=BCrburgring had already been underway for a half hour,= and=20 it was in a whole =E2=80=98nother country, so I put my foot in it to try to=20= get there=20 as quickly as possible; Paul told me that if I had any troubles with the Fre= nch=20 police (CRS or otherwise), to just give him a call and he=E2=80=99d call the= ir=20 boss=E2=80=99s boss=E2=80=99s boss and I=E2=80=99d soon be on my way again! Still, much of the route in Germany was on extremely beautiful but poorly=20 maintained two-lane roads, where speed was simply impossible to attain, and=20= thus=20 I didn=E2=80=99t actually get to the track until 1:00 p.m., leaving but thre= e hours to=20 play. Still, that I was there at all was a miracle! After signing in and undergoing a rigid technical inspection (consisting of=20 verifying that the turn signals and brake lights worked), I unloaded the car= to=20 prepare for taking to the track. This was the very first time that I had=20 actually fully unloaded the car since I brought it over here a year and a ha= lf=20 ago, and it was simply astounding how much stuff I=E2=80=99ve been carting a= round! The=20 pile of bags and boxes and tools was humongous. In fact, I had spare=20 everythings--belts, hoses, brake pads, distributor cap, rotor, wires, plugs,= an=20 alternator, starter solenoid, and on and on---spare everything except a bloo= dy tire!=20 (And now I had a spare tire, for I kept the good one that had been taken of= f=20 the rear earlier in the day). Finally, I was ready to explore the most legendary race track in the world. Described as =E2=80=9CThe world=E2=80=99s greatest 14 miles=E2=80=9D, all of= the superlatives that=20 are thrown at the Nordschleife (literally translated as the North Ribbon, or= =20 Curve) are entirely justified. Constructed from 1925-27 using both local an= d=20 federal government money, the full circuit measured an incredible 28.265 km,= =20 with the Nordschleife portion being 22.81 km (the Sudschleife has been almos= t=20 entirely covered up by the current GP circuit). =20 Dominated by N=C3=BCrburg Castle high on the hill in the center of the cours= e, and=20 with three villages entirely contained within it, the track is without a=20 doubt the most challenging circuit ever built. It was legendary for both=20 rewarding and punishing bravery, and some of the best drivers in the world e= arned=20 their reputations by achieving greatness at the =E2=80=98Ring, including Fan= gio. But as cars got faster, the track=E2=80=99s distinct lack of safety became m= ore and=20 more obvious, and after Nikki Lauda=E2=80=99s horrific crash, professional r= acing=20 finally moved away from it. But rather than letting it go to waste, it was=20= turned=20 into a private playground, where anybody could purchase laps and drive (or=20 ride) as fast as they want. Currently the price is 15 Euros per lap, and th= e=20 track suffers an average of one fatality each week. The Nordschleife is used as a proving grounds by all the major auto=20 manufacturers (and in fact there is an industrial park filled with buildings= flying=20 BMW, Porsche, Ford, GM, Toyota etc. flags) because it is so representative o= f=20 real-world driving conditions. Jackie Stewart described the =E2=80=98Ring as =E2=80=9C...the ultimate drive= r challenge. =20 There was nothing else in the history of motor racing that came close to the= =20 N=C3=BCrburgring.=E2=80=9D Featuring elevation changes of some 1500 vertica= l feet, and some=20 174 (!) corners, it is not a track that can be figured out quickly, or easil= y. =20 Too, the track is filled with many blind crests, off-camber corners, suddenl= y=20 appearing decreasing corners, and sometimes all three at once! And finally,= =20 there are at least two jumps, one of them significant enough that even at ro= ad=20 car speeds the car will leave the ground. With a great sense of excitement, I hooked up and turned on my video camera,= =20 only to have it tell me =E2=80=9CBattery dead=E2=80=9D and then Pfft. Done. AAAGGGHHH!!! I had plugged the charger in before going to bed the night I=20 left my house, and apparently I plugged it into a switched outlet, which of=20 course depowered when I turned the light off! So here I was, the opportunit= y of a=20 lifetime, all the necessary hardware to record it for posterity, and the onl= y=20 battery I had was stone dead. I was borderline suicidal. But then I consoled myself by saying that I have= =20 other people=E2=80=99s in-car videos of the N=C3=BCrburgring, and if I wante= d to relive the=20 memory I could just play those--in slow-motion! With that, I tentatively set out. Amazingly, there were only 36 (!) cars=20 signed up for the event, and by the time I rolled out onto the track, severa= l=20 drivers had had their fill and had pushed off for the hotel bar, and others=20= were=20 taking a break in the paddock, so at any given time there were probably only= a=20 dozen or so cars on the 14-mile track, meaning it was perfectly likely to=20 perform lap after lap without actually seeing another car! I didn=E2=80=99t feel like I had the luxury of driving especially slowly sin= ce I only=20 had two hours of track time, so I began driving at 7/10ths, getting caught=20 out only once on the first lap by a completely blind and extremely sharp=20 left-hand corner that appeared at the end of a sequence of faster=20 corners=1F--fortunately I was purposely going slowly enough that I had plent= y of room for error. =20 Too, I always adopt the philosophy that while everybody else=E2=80=99s track= might be=20 40 feet wide, mine is only 30 feet wide--I make a point of never driving nea= r=20 the track edge, so that if (or rather, when) I do goof up, I don=E2=80=99t f= ind myself=20 cutting through the grass, or worse yet, smacking the Armco. As I found my away around my first lap, I noted that there was graffiti=20 sprayed on the Armco in many places--memorials to those who had died there m= ost=20 recently. One person had even been kind enough to write the word CARE in bi= g=20 block letters right on the surface of the track at a particularly lethal bli= nd=20 decreasing radius corner; unfortunately that person wrote it at a point so l= ate=20 in turn that if you needed the advice, it was too late to receive it! After two laps (which took just under 30 minutes) I pulled in, where an=20 instructor was available to coach me. By this time I had picked up some spe= ed, and=20 in general he seemed pleased, although he had some excellent constructive=20 criticism to offer regarding a few specific points on the track. I drained a full tank of gas, zipped outside the circuit to fill up, then=20 came back and took to the track again. To my considerable surprise, I found= =20 myself catching and passing cars which should have been at least as fast, if= not=20 faster than mine. I also yielded to an extremely well-driven Mitsubishi Evo= =20 which clearly had far more potential than my car, not to mention the advanta= ge=20 of four hours of practice! It=E2=80=99s pointless to try to describe an entire lap; there is just too m= uch. =20 What stands out in my mind is how fast much of the course is; it is possible= to=20 string together long series of corners well up into 4th gear, although a fai= r=20 amount of the track is taken in 3rd gear, with a few spots in 2nd. One of my favorite sections of the track is Fuchr=C3=B6hre, or Fox Pipe. Du= ring=20 the track=E2=80=99s construction, a fox was disturbed and hid in a pipe, hen= ce the=20 name, but the section itself is somewhat like a pipe, in that it is a=20 claustrophobic, flat-out, steeply downhill plunge through a series of right=20= and left bends=20 into a suspension-compacting dip. Initially I was taking it in third gear,=20 but as I gained confidence I was able to plant my foot to the floorboard in=20 fourth gear and keep it there, zooming downhill at well over 100 mph. =20 There was one somewhat frightening aspect of this section. The last bit of=20 the downhill section has a gentle left-hand bend. My car has quick-ratio=20 steering but still using an original-style worm-and-sector box, which has a=20= fair=20 amount of play on-center (this is my third steering box, and they=E2=80=99ve= all been=20 the same). Once the steering is loaded up, its wonderfully responsive (alth= ough=20 very heavy due to the quick ratio). Anyway, in this particular section, the= =20 car would just be easing to the left when the left front tire would hit a=20 bump. The steering would deflect to the left, through the dead spot, and th= e car=20 would suddenly lurch to the left with no corresponding movement of the wheel= ,=20 and exit the corner right in the center of the track, instead of towards the= =20 right edge where I wanted it to be. A touch of right steering lock would th= en=20 ease the car over into the proper position as the suspension bottomed out on= =20 the dip, and then hard on the brakes and a snappy heel-toe downshift into th= ird=20 for the subsequent left-hand corner. Initially I thought this was the rear tires giving way, but later I figured=20 out that it was just the nature of the car=E2=80=99s steering system, and by= moving=20 over and failing to touch the apex properly, I was able to avoid the bump an= d=20 more or less maintain control of the car, although my cornering speed had to= be=20 reduced. I only had one dramatic Moment on the track. There are two corners that=20 appear virtually identical. Both are at the bottom of steep downhill sectio= ns,=20 and are sharp, 2nd gear left turns with formidable concrete walls painted in= =20 alternating ribbons of red, white and whatever crashed there last. The first one, called Wehrseifen, has as its entry a pair of fast, blind=20 sweeping right-hand corners; at the entry to the second corner, a stab of th= e=20 brakes and a downshift is necessary, as at the (blind) exit, you are present= ed=20 with a sharp, slow left-hand corner, that then goes uphill to a sharp right-= hand=20 bend. The second one, called Briedscheid (also known as Adenau Bridge) has as its=20 entry a pair of fast, blind sweeping right-hand corners; they are both taken= =20 flat-out in third gear, and at the exit of the second one, a braking zone ex= ists=20 where you can stand on the brakes and heel-toe down into second gear, where=20 you are then presented with a sharp, slow left-hand corner, that then crosse= s a=20 bridge and goes uphill to a sharp right-hand bend. So, after many laps where I had mastered both of these sections (and this=20 caused no small amount of pride on my part), I suddenly found myself perform= ing a=20 textbook entry into Briedscheid--except that I was at Wehrseifen. So there I was, foot flat to the floor in third gear, accelerating through=20 perhaps 80 mph, in a beautiful four-wheel slide, and just as the front tires= =20 touched the apex of the right-hand corner and the exit became visible, I rea= lized=20 that I was supposed to be second gear, having already accomplished a fair bi= t=20 of deceleration way back at the entrance of the corner. Oh dear. I instantly pounced on the brakes, which caused all four wheels to lock and=20 the car rotated about 20 degrees to the right in a skid. Heel-toe down into= =20 2nd gear, ease off the brake but not quite fully, hard on the gas and turn i= n to=20 the left, and although I had missed the apex for the left corner by a mile,=20 the car slid around the corner and shot up the hill, still a fair distance a= way=20 from the track=E2=80=99s edge. Amazing. I have no idea where that came from, but it was a perfectly=20 executed rally-style fishtail turn, something I=E2=80=99ve never done before= and in fact=20 never even thought about. Although it was a colossal screw-up that led to i= t, I=20 found myself thinking that if there had been any spectators there, it would=20 have been a thing of beauty to watch. I then made a mental note to remind myself that the faster of the two turns=20 is the second one, and not to make that mistake again! There was another corner, Pflangzarten, that was dramatic for two=20 reasons--there were several dozen spectators watching at the fence (people t= ravel to the=20 track just to watch whoever happens to be on it, and several areas are easil= y=20 accessed from the village of N=C3=BCrburg below), and the location was spect= acular=20 because there was a long third-gear swishy straight that ended with a jump=20 ramp, followed immediately by a second-gear right-hand uphill corner. I was somewhat concerned at the prospects of getting my car physically=20 airborne, as the oil pan is very low and the suspension bottoms easily at th= e rear. =20 But the nature of the landing zone is quite gentle, as the road gently falls= =20 away from the car even as the car itself is falling, leading to a very gentl= e=20 landing. Initially, I was braking and downshifting prior to the jump, which felt very= =20 slow as I could have easily carried more speed through the corner. Then on=20 one lap, I decided to try something. I kept my foot planted in third gear u= p to=20 and through the jump, then as the car left the ground, I executed a snappy=20 downshift while braking, and released the clutch just after the tires touche= d=20 down, making for an absolutely perfect landing/braking/turn-in/zoom away. I= =20 thought smugly that the spectators must have been incredibly impressed. So it should go without saying that on the very next lap I made a complete=20 dog=E2=80=99s breakfast of it. The car got airborne, I laid into the brakes= ,=20 downshifted, released the clutch--and the car was still airborne. With no e= arth to turn=20 the rear tires, and the brakes on, when I released the clutch the motor died= =20 instantly. And then I landed, still on the brakes. The tires locked up with a screech, the rear end started hopping as the moto= r=20 tried to bump-start itself, and I feathered the clutch with the left foot=20 while trying to modulate the brakes with the right foot. All thought of mak= ing=20 the corner perfect went out the window as I struggled to just get things=20 properly gathered up again. The motor fired, I turned in miles from the ape= x and=20 limped up the hill, suitably chastised. I lost track of how many laps I turned, but it was not nearly enough, not by= =20 a long shot. I was on the track for about two hours, minus a few minutes as= I=20 had to go buy and burn another tank of gas! With familiarity my lap times=20 came down substantially; one of my passengers was turning laps in the 13-min= ute=20 range in his Alfa Romeo, and reported that my lap with him was sub-10 minute= s.=20 For comparison, professional drivers in the latest Porsche 911 turn times=20 just over 8 minutes. During one lap, I found myself suddenly overwhelmed at the magnitude of what= =20 I was experiencing. I had just rocketed through the Karussell, the legendar= y=20 cement-paved bowl-shaped hairpin which is the signature corner of the track,= =20 and was zooming up towards Hohe Acht, when I was suddenly struck with the id= ea=20 that I was literally treading on hallowed ground, following in the footsteps= ,=20 or rather, the tire tracks, of the greatest drivers the world has ever known= ,=20 people like Nuvolari, Fangio, Moss, Hill, Ickx.... Even though I hadn=E2=80= =99t slowed=20 down at all, I was in a groove and the car was practically driving itself as= =20 I literally took a moment to look up at the trees overhead and imagine them=20 having exactly the same view while behind the wheel of a fearsome Auto Union= ,=20 Alfa Romeo, Aston Martin or Ferrari...it was a very special and oddly quiet=20 moment, over almost as soon as it started, and yet one of the most significa= nt me mories I will carry of this place. Exiting the final corner and bombing down the long straight, the car slowly=20 accelerated and then, sadly, ran out of puff at only about 5400 rpm. It sou= nds=20 the business, but doesn=E2=80=99t have the power to back it up, so I would m= ax out at=20 an indicated 120 mph and just drive on forever. I was later told that the=20 fastest car clocked (on radar) was a Porsche GT3 at 188 mph (but he was gone= by=20 the time I started driving), and an AMG Mercedes CLK55 at a software-limited= =20 155 mph. Significantly, that car was being piloted by a gentleman in a=20 wheelchair, with hand controls! Oddly, many of the participants had their fill of the place and had pushed=20 on, which meant that although there were some very interesting cars entered=20= in=20 the event (the earliest being a 1952 Jaguar XK120), relatively few of them w= ere=20 running by the time I got started. And assuredly, I was the only car left o= n=20 the track when they called =E2=80=98time=E2=80=99. In fact, I glanced at my= watch and had=20 figured that they would probably want to shut the track, but was determined=20= to=20 try to =E2=80=98not see=E2=80=99 the flagger and get in one extra lap. Howe= ver, they=20 obviously had my number, because as I roared down the straight, three marsha= ls were=20 standing in the center of the track waving red flags at me. Rather hard to=20 miss, that. You might wonder about the enormous complexity of marshaling a circuit as=20 large as this. The organizers solved the situation by doing away with it=20 entirely. Yes, we were all driving flat-out (well, I was anyway) on a 14.7=20= mile long=20 circuit with 174 corners and not one single corner worker. There was an=20 ambulance positioned at Adenau bridge, which represents roughly halfway arou= nd the=20 track, and conveniently allows direct access to the town of N=C3=BCrburg bel= ow,=20 and there were a few officials, as well as a doctor, stationed at the=20 start/finish line, but other than that, the track was wholly unmanned. =20 Were somebody to have a shunt, it would have been incumbent upon the driver=20 of the following car to stop and sort things out, and summon help via cell=20 phone. This should have been cause for circumspection, but I felt I was alr= eady=20 being cautious enough by effectively =E2=80=98narrowing=E2=80=99 the course. As I exited the track, I noted that literally all the other participants had= =20 already left, leaving only me and the event officials behind. (Some left in= =20 less-than-idea circumstances; the hapless Bill Martland whose big-block=20 Corvette convertible is always breaking down, suffered a leaking radiator wh= ich=20 drained all his coolant at speed; he was so concerned with keeping in betwee= n the=20 fences that he never glanced at his gauges, the motor overheated and finally= =20 blew a head gasket; and a BMW M-3 lunched a timing chain tensioner). It took quite some time to load the car, and since I didn=E2=80=99t have the= benefit=20 of a navigator (I believe I was the only person who didn=E2=80=99t have a co= -driver to=20 share driving time and costs), I was daunted by the prospect of the upcoming= =20 80-mile cross-country drive through countless villages via two-lane roads. =20= So=20 I elected to simply travel in convoy with the officials. =20 At a gas stop, I offered the wheel to the driving instructor who had gone ou= t=20 with me, just so he could experience what it was like to drive a car so=20 utterly foreign and antiquated. He really enjoyed himself, and was amazed a= t the=20 torque, which to my mind, borders on nonexistent. In fact I know that in th= e=20 grand scheme of things, my GT-350 clone is about the weakest one out there,=20 with a very mild motor, but to people weaned on itty bitty four-cylinder eng= ines,=20 even an anemic V-8 is something muscular indeed. Conversation in the car consisted mostly of reliving the day=E2=80=99s event= s, to=20 include the heart-stopping moments that each of us had experienced, followed= by a=20 traditionally late multi-course dinner that didn=E2=80=99t end until almost=20= midnight. Fortunately the morning=E2=80=99s schedule was quite relaxed, as we didn=E2= =80=99t have=20 access to the Spa circuit surface until 10:00 a.m. So after a hearty breakf= ast=20 and a short driver=E2=80=99s meeting in the hotel lobby, we drove the ten mi= les or so=20 and soon entered the course. There we were greeted by a German driving instructor, who took us all on a=20 track drive/walk. We piled into as few cars as possible and drove out to=20 examine significant areas of the circuit. =0BOther than the N=C3=BCrburgring, Spa is by far the most epic circuit in t= he=20 world. Originally comprised mostly of public roads, it was fearsomely fast=20= and=20 mistakes usually were punished severely. Without a doubt the most famous an= d=20 photogenic corner in all of Grand Prix racing is the first complex called Ea= u=20 Rouge. The track plunges down a fairly steep hill, then flicks to the left=20= into=20 a big dip, exiting in a wide, sweeping and extremely steep right-hand corner= =20 whose exit is completely blind, and in fact the exit point is at the same ti= me=20 the apex for the following corner, called Le Raidillon. This corner demands= =20 ultimate commitment, for the exit leads onto an uphill straight that is abou= t=20 3/4 mile long. There is an urge to try to take it flat-out without lifting=20= for=20 the entry, but the result is usually running wide at the exit, spinning and=20 hitting the wall. So we were desperately urged to never even remotely consi= der=20 it! In fact, in the last few years bypass roads have been constructed and the=20 circuit has been fully modified in keeping with current F-1 safety regulatio= ns,=20 so it is much more benign than when I saw it ten years ago. There is loads=20= of=20 run-off room in the faster corners, and significantly the runoff is all pave= d,=20 not grass, so regaining control and avoiding an intimate encounter with the=20 Armco is a distinct possibility, a refreshing change from the day before. Soon it was time to take to the track in anger. I had charged up my video=20 camera and was all set to shoot some epic footage. However, the track was w= et,=20 so I ventured forth cautiously. Spa is notorious for its ever-changing=20 weather (usually vacillating between bad and worse), and for frequently havi= ng=20 distinctly different weather patterns in different areas of the track. But=20= for=20 now, it was just entirely wet, and greasy. Oddly, I felt immediately at ease on the N=C3=BCrburgring, which has this fe= arsome=20 reputation, but on this track that seemed to be much, much safer, I was=20 strangely intimidated. I putted around feeling utterly lost, and routinely=20= waved=20 =E2=80=98slower=E2=80=99 cars past as other drivers (perhaps with the benefi= t of experience?)=20 sailed on by me. I was afraid that it would rain all day, but in fact the s= un=20 was peering through the clouds and the track was drying as I pulled in after= =20 about a half-hour of lapping. In the paddock was a welcome sight--the distinctive profile of a Pantera! =20 Serge de Moor had driven his Pantera out from Brussels to come spend the day= =20 spectating, and he wasn=E2=80=99t alone, for arriving in a spectacular =E2= =80=9850s Bentley was=20 fellow Brusselian Claude Dubois, riding with the car=E2=80=99s owner, himsel= f a=20 (genuine) GT-350 owner, although he=E2=80=99s an older man who isn=E2=80=99t= keen to drive fast=20 (and in fact has been having the car converted to power steering and power=20 brakes!) Claude is legendary in Shelby and De Tomaso circles. An accomplished=20 semi-pro racer, he raced at Le Mans eight times and was also highly competit= ive in=20 international rallying in the =E2=80=9850s and =E2=80=9860s. He then became= the sole European=20 distributor for Shelby, AC and GT40 cars; if you lived anywhere on the=20 continent and wanted one of those cars, you bought it through him. After Sh= elby=20 folded his tent, he became the De Tomaso distributor and sold De Tomaso cars= for=20 over 20 years, selling more than anybody else in the world. Significantly for me, he had set the lap record at Spa in a Jaguar in 1958,=20 so I asked him to climb aboard and help me find my way around the circuit. =20= He=20 cautioned me to go slowly, as he=E2=80=99s been in the hospital three times,= and all=20 three times it was as a co-driver when his driver wrecked their car. He spoke a spectacularly simple yet effective shorthand with his left hand.=20= =20 As I was driving the track, he would occasionally extend his hand, about lev= el=20 with the radio as to not block my view, but instead be very visible in my=20 peripheral vision. He would extend two or three fingers to indicate the des= ired=20 gear for a given corner, point left or right and down to indicate the locati= on=20 of the corner=E2=80=99s entry, apex and exit, and when he felt an upshift wa= s=20 necessary, he would make a slapping down motion near the gearshift. And whe= n he=20 wanted me to brake, he would frantically pump his hand up and down, palm tow= ards=20 the ground. Ah, brakes. I had fitted track pads before setting off on the N=C3=BCrburgr= ing=20 and left them in place, and they are outstandingly effective. As the only c= ar=20 so-equipped, I enjoyed a significant advantage over most other cars, able to= =20 brake considerably later and deeper and harder, which is fun no matter how f= ast=20 or slow you=E2=80=99re actually going. The Clue light came on after several laps and I found that I suddenly had a=20 much greater understanding of the track, and how to make it work. I then se= t=20 out to try to improve my performance, and once I felt I could drive around=20 quickly enough to avoid embarrassing myself, I began to offer up rides to al= l and=20 sundry. Around and around I went, lap after lap after lap, video camera chugging awa= y=20 and recording it for posterity. I was amazed to experience the weather=20 patterns I=E2=80=99d read about so frequently, as suddenly small cloud forma= tions would=20 appear and it would be raining in two or three corners, but dry elsewhere on= the=20 track. =20 After a couple of hours, I turned the car over to the RAC mechanics for a=20 clutch adjustment and brake pad inspection; I had a fresh set of competition= pads=20 as the ones fitted were well past half worn, but they work so well that wear= =20 was negligible so I elected to continue using them. Back out onto the track= ,=20 and now it had dried out and the speed really came. I made no attempt to run with the Mercedes CLK, as the car was far more=20 capable and the driver far more aggressive than I am; he used all the track=20= and=20 then some, spinning off four or five times before the day was done, yet doin= g no=20 damage to the car. The Mitsubishi Lancer was another rocketship that I=20 happily yielded for, although the WRX STi was poorly driven and no threat (i= n fact I=20 had let him pass me at the N=C3=BCrburgring, then found him holding me up, a= nd=20 struggled to re-pass him and then drove away from him). It was a lot of fun running with the =E2=80=9872 Ferrari 365 GTC/4, although= I was=20 disappointed that I couldn=E2=80=99t hear the V-12 over the sound of my own=20= car. At=20 that point I had let Claude take the wheel for some lapping sessions, and so= I=20 got to sit back and enjoy the view a bit, including concentrating on the car= s we=20 were following. Claude was extremely smooth, very gentle with my car, and a fair bit slower,= =20 which is fair enough since it=E2=80=99s not his car. In general he would be= a gear=20 higher than I was in any given corner, just sort of easing around as opposed= to=20 literally wringing the car=E2=80=99s neck as I do. He isn=E2=80=99t used to= power brakes in=20 a vintage car, and by the end of the day, the pedal had become rather long,=20 although there were still awesome brakes living near the bottom of the pedal= =20 travel (I really should have changed the brake fluid as it=E2=80=99s easily=20= three or four=20 years old, but I simply forgot to do it). With no experience in my car, he=20 simply couldn=E2=80=99t come to terms with the brakes and learn to trust the= m, although=20 I found that they worked terrific all day long, finally started to fade ever= =20 so slightly after an extremely spirited sprint of laps that lasted a full 45= =20 minutes without a break. I had no Moments on the track, although this is solely due to my=20 aforementioned track-narrowing scheme. I had the Alfa driver riding with me= , we plunged=20 down the hill into Eau Rouge, and there discovered that since we had last be= en=20 there on the very previous lap, a cloudburst had moved in, utterly soaked th= e=20 (heretofore dry) track, then moved on, leaving no indication of anything=20 untoward other than the sun glinting a bit excessively on the pavement. It=20= wasn=E2=80=99t=20 until I had reached the dip, where I normally go full throttle, that I notic= ed=20 the available traction had been sharply reduced. Had I been fully committed= ,=20 I would have therefore gone sliding off the outside of the corner and all=20 sorts of mayhem might have ensued; as it is, I was able to feather the throt= tle=20 and skitter through the turn, just touching the exit curbing and totally=20 off-line for Le Raidillon, but at a speed reduced enough that it didn=E2=80= =99t matter. =20 Whew! Other than a brief break for a Kit-Kat bar and a Coke while the mechanics=20 looked over the car, I drove Spa almost continuously from 11:00 a.m., basica= lly=20 running a six-hour enduro by myself. I pulled in to take my last passenger=20= at=20 ten minutes to four, and was just about to re-enter the track for the last t= en=20 minutes when the marshals indicated that a Morgan had gone off and smacked=20 the wall, and the day was done. In fact, the driver had pushed and pushed, going ever slightly faster, and=20 aware that the end of the day was approaching, he pushed just that little bi= t=20 too far, spun in a corner and smacked the inside wall facing backwards, crea= ming=20 the whole left side of the car, but apparently doing no significant=20 structural damage, and more importantly, emerging completely unhurt, althoug= h highly=20 embarrassed. So we packed it up and called it a day. These two days had been without a=20 doubt the best track days I have ever experienced. Spa is the best race tra= ck=20 in the world, and the N=C3=BCrburgring is so much better than Spa that it= =E2=80=99s in a=20 different solar system. I feel so privileged to have had the opportunity to= =20 drive them both, in my own car, and am at the same time overcome with regret= that=20 I didn=E2=80=99t get to spend the entire day at the =E2=80=98Ring, and while= I=E2=80=99m at it, that=20 I didn=E2=80=99t have the power to properly complement the chassis and let m= e really=20 go nearly as fast as I would have liked. My motor, however, seemed to have issued a bit of a protest, suddenly=20 producing what to me sounded like an Expensive Noise. A comprehensive ticki= ng,=20 sounding like a bad lifter, bent pushrod, or ???? Actually, it sounded like= an=20 exhaust leak, but exhaust leaks normally only manifest themselves under=20 acceleration conditions and go away under deceleration, often leading to bac= kfires, but=20 this wasn=E2=80=99t doing that. Still, the car was running and seemed to id= le and=20 run fine, and the mechanics on the scene said that even though they had no i= dea=20 what it was, they had a good idea of what it *wasn=E2=80=99t* and that they=20= thought I=20 would be fine. So, with fingers crossed, Serge set off in his Pantera, and I followed=20 behind, some 100 miles or so back to Brussels, where we put the cars away an= d then I=20 set up camp at his apartment, right in the middle of the old part of the=20 city. Serge is a jeweler who manufactures custom, one-off jewelry and resto= res an tique pieces from his home, so I got a fascinating insight into that entire=20 process. =20 One of the greatest things about being a Pantera Guy is the opportunity to=20 meet and socialize with wonderful people from all over the world, and learn=20= so=20 much besides simple Car Stuff. I have had so much exposure to people from a= ll=20 walks of life, who all share this common bond yet whose backgrounds and=20 experiences are so different, and it=E2=80=99s been a fascinating journey as= a result. We later met up with Claude and went to dinner. There, Claude entertained u= s=20 with all sorts of stories, including telling us about his recent heart bypas= s=20 surgery. He said that he had been having difficulty riding his mountain bik= e=20 in the steep mountains near his French summer home in Provence (he=E2=80=99s= about 74=20 years old, I believe), and initial checkouts had revealed nothing, but then=20 another doctor found a life-threatening condition that might have felled him= =20 within hours had the operation not been performed. He rather unexpectedly=20 confessed that he had been having =E2=80=98sexual problems=E2=80=99 prior to= the surgery, but=20 =E2=80=9C...now, I have ee-rection like Turkish donkey!=E2=80=9D And, he we= nt on to add with his=20 characteristic twinkle in his eye, =E2=80=9CEef I take a little peece of a V= iagra=20 tablet, eet becomes DANGEROUS!=E2=80=9D Serge and I were both laughing so hard we were crying, and even now, a week=20 later, I=E2=80=99m still chuckling.... The next day, Claude took us on a tour of the local Brussels Pantera scene.=20= =20 We went and viewed the Candy car, the genuine factory Gr 4 race Pantera=20 formerly owned by Bill Cotter in Seattle (and Jacob Shalit in Orange County=20= before=20 that), which has recently been purchased by Patrick Hals and brought back to= =20 his home in Brussels. Sadly, Patrick was out of town on a holiday and I did= n=E2=80=99t=20 get to meet him. =20 The shop it=E2=80=99s stored in is owned by Bernard de Dryver, the former Be= lgian F-1=20 driver. Claude got him started in racing when he sold him a factory-prepare= d=20 Group 3 Pantera in 1973. Interestingly, that car, #5001, later made its way= =20 to the USA and was turned into a street car, and more or less run into the=20 ground. Last year it found its way to PI Motorsports, Claude found out abou= t it,=20 and de Dryver bought it back, and it is now being restored. He will campaig= n=20 the car next year in vintage racing events, bringing his racing career full=20 circle! Serge had some business to attend to so Claude and I went to lunch at a=20 sandwich shop. I ordered a beef sandwich, not realizing that the beef was R= AW. =20 Not wanting to appear like an uncultured American (which, of course, I am),=20= I=20 gamely acted like there was nothing amiss and set to eating it; it was only=20 after I was partway done that Claude confessed that he never eats raw beef,=20= and=20 wistfully added, =E2=80=9Cgood luck...=E2=80=9D; fortunately I suffered no i= ll effects or=20 e-coli! And, I must admit, due to the extensive seasonings and oils it had=20= been=20 prepared with, it was actually quite good. Would have been dynamite if it h= ad=20 been cooked though! Later on, we went to the exotic car showroom owned by Paul Grant; he=20 purchased the one-off De Tomaso Ghia Sport 5000 from De Tomaso last year, an= d also has=20 another genuine Gr 4 race Pantera that is for sale. This car, sadly, has=20 suffered at the hands of a former owner, with all four fenders and the nose=20= cut=20 off and replaced with home-made panels to let the car run in Group 5. The c= ar=20 is hideously ugly as a result, and would need extensive work to return to it= s=20 proper configuration. After linking up with Serge again, I hopped in my car and set off to continu= e=20 my travels. Even before he had completely bailed me out by ferrying a pair=20 of tires to me, I had committed to going to Stephane Bergeron=E2=80=99s hous= e outside=20 Paris and spending several days working on his Pantera with him, but after h= is=20 efforts on my behalf I was even more motivated to do so. Driving at night i= n=20 occasional heavy rain, my progress was slow, and I was somewhat intimidated=20 when I came up to the French border and a couple of border guards visibly=20 frowned at the fact that my car has no number plate, and then stopped me. =E2=80=9CYoo are American?=E2=80=9D they asked. I replied in broken French,= which they=20 seemed to appreciate greatly. There were no other cars around, and they loo= ked=20 this way and that, then using the universal language of pointy-talky, they a= sked=20 me to perform a burnout as I left. Only too happy to oblige, particularly as it was so simple due to the wet=20 pavement. I looked in the mirror to see just a tiny bit of smoke and water=20 spray, and two very happy, smiling faces at the border guard station.... After yet another hideously expensive gas stop, I rolled into Stephane=E2= =80=99s=20 house running on fumes, and after a happy reunion with the rest of the famil= y,=20 called it a night. The following morning, we set to trying to find the source of my motor noise= ..=20 We pulled the plugs and the compression checked out fine. I removed the=20 valve cover, then started it up, and the noise became MUCH louder. We check= ed=20 and adjusted all the rockers arms to determine that there wasn=E2=80=99t too= much valve=20 lash, and nothing changed. I shot some video and e-mailed it to various Smart Guys around the world,=20 asking for opinions. It was John Christian at Roush that came up with the=20 spot-on diagnosis, one that I would never have guessed at in a million years= : I had=20 an exhaust leak at the intake manifold. HUH???? Well, think about it. Ford motors have ports in the #2 and #6 exhaust ports= =20 which duct hot exhaust gasses into a crossunder passage in the intake=20 manifold, to promote carb heating and quick warmup. Aftermarket intake mani= folds=20 normally block this passage off. What had happened in my case was that the=20= intake=20 gasket on the left side had let go at the bottom edge, and exhaust gases wer= e=20 leaking INTO the engine, in the lifter valley, under the intake. The gasses= =20 were then blowing out via the holes in the heads that the pushrods passed=20 through, into the rocker arm area. Brilliant! Okay, so that=E2=80=99s easily enough fixed, and more importantl= y, not=20 significant enough to worry about in the short term. We then spent 10-12 hours a day for the next couple of days working on=20 Stephane=E2=80=99s Pantera, including pulling the cover off the bottom of hi= s gearbox (which=20 was rebuilt by ZF in France) to ensure the ring gear bolts had been=20 safety-wired (they had), mating the clutch, engine and gearbox, then install= ing the=20 assembly into the car to check for exhaust clearance (it didn=E2=80=99t). G= rinding of=20 the motor mounts and the headers themselves delivered the requisite clearanc= e,=20 and we moved on to the next project, then the next, and so on--slowly but=20 surely, getting the car closer to being on the road (he bought it in pieces=20= seven=20 years ago and has real hopes of driving it next summer). I was intrigued by an innovation that Stephane had cooked up in conjunction=20 with the engineers who supply the Citro=C3=ABn factory rally car team; rathe= r than=20 stock rubber suspension bushings, or the common polyurethane replacements, h= e=20 had ultra-exotic (and expensive) roller bearing suspension bushings made! I= =20 question whether this is very smart, but they sure look trick! On the last evening, another local Pantera owner who doesn=E2=80=99t speak a= word of=20 English came over for dinner, not even arriving until after 9:00 p.m. Dinne= r=20 was a typically epic multi-course affair and lasted until 2:00 a.m. and then= =20 we went back down to the garage! Truthfully, I would have liked to have stayed a few more days, as I felt=20 there was some real momentum built up, but I had other engagements in Englan= d. So=20 bidding the family good-bye, the next morning I set off back for Calais, the= n=20 crossed to Dover and returned to Geoff=E2=80=99s house. =20 The next day dawned gray and ugly, and I hopped in the car and sped up to th= e=20 city of Birmingham, which is sort of the Detroit of England, the heart of th= e=20 English motor manufacturing industry except, er, they still build cars in=20 Detroit.... I was going to the NEC, the National Events Center, England=E2=80=99s larges= t and=20 best-known convention hall. This is the site of the annual Classic Car show= , the=20 largest show of its type in England and one of the largest in the world. =20 Even in the heavy rain, I felt confident pressing on, and because I was a bi= t=20 behind schedule, cruised at 90-95 mph most of the way, serene due to the fac= t=20 that the UK uses a particularly excellent style of pavement which simply suc= ks=20 the water in and drains it off, unlike US freeways which often collect stand= ing=20 water and become treacherous even with a light rainfall. At the NEC, I met up with Johnny Woods, who had wisely left his Pantera=20 behind and instead drove up in his new ride, a Nissan Sunny that he picked u= p for=20 the princely sum of $175. It=E2=80=99s the first modern car he=E2=80=99s ev= er owned (if you=20 can call a 20-year-old car modern) and he was really knocked out by the nove= lty=20 of a functioning heater and defroster, fuel economy, and a radio! The show was spectacular, featuring stands from various manufacturers and=20 clubs, including a huge effort by the Jaguar Daimler Heritage Trust. =20 Representative examples of every Jaguar made were on display, including the=20= iconic C-=20 and D-types, as well as the very first E-type coupe (the 1961 Geneva show ca= r),=20 and the first left-hand-drive car (the seventh E-type made). There was also= a=20 large vendor area with restoration tools, parts and automobilia for sale. Rod Leach, England=E2=80=99s best-known Cobra dealer, had loaned an original= =E2=80=9866 427=20 Cobra to some outfit looking to promote themselves in some way, and I spent=20= a=20 lot of time admiring it while Johnny harshly criticized the paint and the=20 poor preparation the car had received (he sells high-end car care products a= nd=20 thus is very critical of people who fail to treat their cars properly). There was a Superformance stand which had a real shock--the long-awaited and= =20 never-before-seen Superformance GT40. This is a MK II body style, and the o= ne=20 on display was only delivered a week earlier, the second such car produced.=20= =20 The quality seemed top-notch although I am still aggravated that they electe= d=20 to make it left-hand-drive with center shift, instead of the proper=20 right-hand-drive with the shifter in the right sill. The European distribut= or, a fellow=20 from Holland, told me that customer resistance to that scheme has been so=20 great that they have re-thought their plan and will now offer the car with t= hree=20 different chassis layouts and three different body styles: LHD, center shif= t;=20 RHD, center shift, and RHD, right sill shift, and either Mk II, late Mk 1=20 (Gulf-style wide body), or early Mk 1 body styles. In fact, just the day be= fore,=20 McLaren F-1 chief designer Adrian Newey had loaned his own early original=20 GT40 so that body molds could be taken from it, and the molds had been dispa= tched=20 to the factory in South Africa. Johnny and I must have walked 20 miles to ensure that we saw each and every=20 little thing, then saw it again, and finally left around 6:00 p.m. The show= =20 was hideously expensive at $25, and they socked us another $12 for parking,=20= so=20 we were determined to get our money=E2=80=99s worth! We drove down the M-6 motorway and then peeled off into the inky darkness,=20 taking ever smaller roads until we were down to one-lane goat tracks with a=20 lightly falling rain, and eventually we pulled up to the home of George=20 Gordon-Smith. George sadly sold his Mangusta but is still keen, and in fact= is really=20 itching to buy himself a GT-350 clone like mine. We enjoyed a nice dinner w= ith=20 him and his wife Sue, then had a wonderful sitdown by a crackling fire and=20 all talked late into the night. The next morning, Johnny and I set off in opposite directions, and I headed=20 back to London and prepared to return home. It has been yet another excelle= nt=20 European driving adventure, as well as a fantastic social occasion, as I had= =20 the good fortune to be able to meet up with friends (and make new ones) in s= ix=20 different cities/towns in three countries. Sadly, as the driving season draws to a close, I had to swallow a bitter=20 pill, for this was to be my car=E2=80=99s last day in Europe. After spendin= g the last two=20 seasons domiciled in England and France, the car=E2=80=99s temporary importa= tion=20 deadline was fast approaching, and my airline travel benefits (which enable=20= me to=20 fly from LAX to London for $51, for example) are going to be terminated=20 shortly, not to return until I get called back to work by American Airlines,= =20 probably sometime in 2007. And so I emptied the car of various flotsam and=20= jetsam,=20 washed it and prepared to take it down to the Southampton docks to be loaded= on=20 a ship bound for the USA. The next morning, I climbed in the car one last time and set off for the=20 motorway. After the nightmare that is the M-25 ring road, I turned onto the= M-3=20 and headed south. Traffic was flowing smoothly, the weather was cool and=20 overcast but mostly dry, and I was feeling my oats, so I stayed in the fast=20= lane=20 with the hammer down and cruised at 90 mph or more, in the knowledge that it= =20 would be a long time before I could again speed with a feeling of utter impu= nity. After many miles, up ahead a weedy-looking car pulled out of the slow lane t= o=20 pass a lorry, and I had to slow down; I was just beginning that process when= =20 I spotted two nasty-looking little men astride motorcycles equipped with=20 little blue lights on sticks, lurking in the bushes and eyeing me with conte= mptuous=20 looks on their faces. Oh great, that=E2=80=99s just what I need, to get popped by the cops on the=20= way to=20 catch a boat (sailing that afternoon) on the car=E2=80=99s last day in Europ= e. As I=20 slid out of view behind the lorry I booted the brakes to ensure I wouldn=E2= =80=99t come=20 visibly shooting out the other side, then watched my mirrors attentively,=20 pleasantly surprised to see that the men on their little motorbikes decided=20= to stay=20 put and give me a miss--whew! Others weren=E2=80=99t so lucky, as further d= own the=20 road there were a couple of speedy looking cars (including a BMW M-3) that h= ad=20 been pulled up and were suffering various indignities at the hands of the la= w=20 for their gross indiscretion of driving in a straight line down an empty=20 highway at perfectly reasonable (though admittedly high) speeds. I pulled onto the pier and dropped off the car, which was to be loaded on a=20 ship otherwise entirely filled with new Range Rovers, Land Rovers and BMW=20 Minis. As I climbed into a taxi for the ride to the train station that woul= d=20 return me to my point of origin, I turned and took one last look at the car=20= that=20 had served me so well, had seen so many adventures (both planned and otherwi= se),=20 had consumed so much ludicrously expensive fuel (each fillup normally cost=20 between $65 and $75, and I normally filled the tank twice a day; I burned th= ree=20 full tanks of gas at Spa alone!), and in general, allowed me to live out wha= t=20 had only been a fantasy for so many years. =20 Looking back at all I have done in that car over the past two years, all the= =20 places I=E2=80=99ve seen, things I=E2=80=99ve done, and far most importantly= , all the friends=20 I=E2=80=99ve made, I feel so profoundly grateful that I find I am unable to=20 adequately express it in words. How lucky have I been! To get called away=20= from my=20 civilian job to fight a war in the middle east, then to return home only to=20= lose=20 my civilian job a few weeks later, leaving me with time on my hands, a huge=20 stack of money in the bank (considerably less huge today, I can assure you),= and=20 most importantly, with kind-hearted and charitable friends in Europe who wer= e=20 more than happy to extend themselves on my behalf, and not only store my car= =20 for me, but also shuttle me back and forth to the airport, and occasionally=20 act as a go-between to smooth bumps with various bureaucratic agencies, etc.= =20 etc. I have been able to live the life of a European aristocrat of 40 years= ago,=20 criss-crossing the continent behind the wheel of a rare and desirable GT car= ,=20 enjoying racetracks, museums, attending classic car meetings and race events= ,=20 and socializing with like-minded people from all walks of life, from one end= =20 of Europe to the other. And I owe all of that to the worldwide fraternity of Pantera owners. Yes,=20 these arguably silly Italian cars that were, and are, the Rodney Dangerfield= of=20 the exotic car world, attracted a very special kind of owner, the kind of=20 person that I have tried, over the last two years, to describe to each of yo= u. =20 Although on one level, it could be argued that the purchase of my rustbucket= =20 chronic restoration project Pantera (now entering its 15th year of dormancy)= =20 was a huge mistake, in light of all the doors that it has opened and all the= =20 opportunities it has provided for me, I couldn=E2=80=99t disagree more. For= were it not=20 for that car, and the membership in the Pantera Owners Club of America (whic= h=20 has members in 17 countries), and the friendships that the car seems to=20 naturally engender, none of the things I=E2=80=99ve done these past few year= s would have=20 been possible. I have learned a lot in the past two years, and have seen many ways that my=20 GT-350 clone could be improved to optimize it for the type of driving I=E2= =80=99ve been=20 doing. To that end, it is currently on the way to Detroit, where it will=20 receive a new, much more powerful engine, a five-speed gearbox, and at the s= ame=20 time have some long-overdue paint and body issues dealt with (the car is a=20 typical California car with no rust underneath, but a bit of rust is just no= w=20 starting to appear at the base of the back window, and the car really wants=20= to be=20 stripped to bare metal and repainted). I don=E2=80=99t know when it will ac= tually=20 return home, but I am hoping that it is up and running in time for the summe= r=20 driving season. And although it will be many years before I have again achieved the type of=20 financial stability and occupational seniority that would make keeping the c= ar=20 in Europe a feasible prospect, I find that I am totally hooked on the idea,=20 and it is my long-term ambition to utterly perfect the car for that mission,= and=20 then perhaps in five or seven or ten years, re-export it, this time to becom= e=20 a more or less permanent resident in Europe. As I was faced with limited track time, I didn=E2=80=99t even bother pulling= my=20 camera out of the bag during my two days at the N=C3=BCrburgring and Spa, so= my=20 traditionally huge JPG photo collage is therefore much smaller than usual. =20 Nevertheless, it still provides a last look at European continental motoring= at its=20 finest: http://members.aol.com/mikeldrew/motorsportschallenge.jpg Now that my travels are winding down (although not entirely finished, as my=20 benefits actually run through the end of February), I will be spending more=20 time at home, attending to various responsibilities there, aggressively work= ing=20 on my own Pantera for a change, and taking road trips in the USA, territory=20= I=20 haven=E2=80=99t really explored for several years now. I=E2=80=99m looking forward to it! Mike
