Round 1: Oulton Park

Dear Friends

Public transportation is fantastic. I have found in the United Kingdom and Europe you can get just about anywhere for a reasonable cost, quite quickly in many circumstances. This truism however simply falls apart when your destination is a racing track.

On Monday (which is a British holiday) I traveled to Oulton Park Raceway, one of the circuits owned by Palmer Sport for the first round of the British F3 and GT championship. This weekend marked a very exciting moment for the British racers. After months of off-season waiting they can finally take their machines to the track in full anger and see if the off-season preparation and tweaks will pay off once the starting lights go out. For me this was a chance to see the different teams in action and take a look as to which ones I might fit in with.

Because I don’t currently have the backing required to get in the driving seat , one of my goals is to get involved with a team to learn about the cars and get my hands dirty with the mechanical work. I feel like it will be a way for me to get involved with the racing scene as well as improving my ‘mechanical empathy’ as race super mechanic Robert Metcalf explained. He believes this ultimately will make me a more complete racing driver. This way once I make it on track I will be able to quickly analyze what the car is doing underneath me and when I come into the pits I can explain to my mechanics, in their language, what changes need to be made so the car can go faster.

(Drivers like Jim Hall were experts at this because they were racing driver/engineers built into one. Every lap whether racing or practice was a ‘test’ lap and his mind was constantly working towards making the car faster.)

The trip to the course was typical when compared to my other public transit journeys to racing tracks. The process is becoming pretty standard and goes as follows: get on train, make compulsory changes, ride around on train a few more hours, ride taxi and pay massive taxi fare to deliver me to the gates of the circuit. Although it might seem like a lot of work my brilliance shined through as I happily walked right past the massive queue’s of cars and into Oulton Park (in the UK they say queue, not line).

The massive lines of cars into the circuit were a notice of things to come. Once I walked inside the gates there were gianormous crowds who turned up for the race. Unlike American speedway’s where fans park outside the course, at Oulton Park the majority of fans parked inside the circuit. There were no grandstands and the fans lined the entire length of the circuit and stood on the inclines that surrounded the track. The paddock was also available for access to the fans to wander and see the cars, teams, and drivers close up.

My first stop after arriving was at Chequere’s the race track restaurant where I expected to find burgers, chips and other ‘race track food.’ As it turns out once I waited through the queue you could order all sorts of things from fruits, salads, and specials from the kitchen including some sort of vegetable meat pie lasagna thing. The dining room was packed and it was only because I was on my own that I found a table to join where I got to speak with a few British motorsport fans. The passion was absolutely evident as one gentleman told me about the times he had driven Oulton Park himself while his friend had travelled about three hours to make it to the race (keep in mind you Americans 3 hours is nearly halfway across the country).

After lunch I had a chance to walk around the paddock and see the teams close up. There were a number of different racing series at the event including Formula Ford, Volkswagen, and the Ginetta Cup on top of the headline F3 and GT championships. The fans were treated to racing all day long and as I walked the pits I could hear the Volkswagen cars screaming around the track. The paddock was very impressive and frankly there isn’t anything I would know to compare it to. The teams in general are professional and take the racing very seriously, it’s a bad idea to get in the way of a mechanic when they are in a hurry! Although the racing was professional there was a wide disparity in equipment. Some teams certainly came more from the ‘privateer’ group with a small trailer and a couple 10x10 canopies together, while many of the GT and F3 teams had full semi-trailers, catered hospitality areas, and pit carts where they could watch the race from the pit lane.

The racing I came for was exactly what I had imagined. The Formula Ford championship (which I want to race in straight away) had over twenty entries with drivers from as far as Brazil, Europe, and Australia competing. The racing on course was fierce and was exactly what I was hoping to see. Up one step on the racing ladder the British F3 series was hugely impressive. The teams looked as good, if not better than many of the Champ Car and Indy car teams I have seen and major sponsors such as Red Bull, Honda, various Investment firms, and Bahrain adorned the cars. There were almost thirty F3 cars taking the grid and English was most likely the second language for the majority of the drivers. The British racing scene is truly an international affair and competition is fierce.

Once the racing had finished around 5pm I embarked on my trip back to High Wycombe. Unprepared to pay another massive taxi fare I pulled out my handy navigation system (the kind designed for cars) and dialed in the closest public transport which was four miles away.

Unfortunately (for me) I didn’t know anyone who was leaving to hitch a ride so I laced up my shoes and started hiking. Nothing like a nice walk on a lovely British evening! According to the GPS I averaged 3 ½ miles per hour which made it just over an hour before I arrived at my public transport destination, the smallest rail station I have ever seen. The station was equipped with train tracks, a platform, and a sign which promised a train would be by in about thirty minutes. While waiting at the station, possibly the drunkest British person on earth got off the train which was headed the other way, took one look at me and decided we should be friends. With a Guiness in hand he told me the guys at the bar had been nice enough to let him keep the glass (probably so he would leave!). After asking about my accent (I have an accent?) and telling me about saying ‘How!’ to the Indian people on the train (not amused or American Indians) he kindly said he should be going before I freaked out, probably right!

Once the train finally came naturally it took another transfer to get me to the station which would set me towards High Wycombe. At this point it was around nine o’clock and I started to realize I should not have waited around for the final races. The first train ride went off without a hitch; however once I arrived at the second station I realized I was going to be in trouble. Because it was getting late the train didn’t go all the way back to High Wycombe (still 2 hours away). As a result I would have to stop halfway there. Bollocks!

It was now midnight and I was 50 miles from High Wycombe. To my dismay there was only one train leaving the station I was at and it was going to London. It wasn’t on the path to Wycombe but it stopped in Oxford which is 25 miles away. I had seen one time there was a bus that runs from Wycombe to Oxford and I crossed my fingers that it would be running at this stupid ridiculous hour. Taking a chance and a path off the railway back to Wycombe I arrived at 12.30 in Oxford and walked the mile to the bus station (thanks navigation system!). There were a few people hanging around the bus station and there was one bus leaving at 1pm. High Wycombe was on its route!!! I managed to catch the bus and ended up arriving back in High Wycombe around 2am.

Nine hours later I vowed to do a better job with my transportation management! As you have probably drawn the same conclusion traveling to and from racing courses public transport is a bad idea. Hopefully I will be able to get a car this week and you will no longer be forced to read about the beatings I am taking on my path to F1.

I hope you are doing well and having better luck on your way to and from your work!

All the best

Michael