New England Region

The opener for NER was at Devens, on the airfield. A better than usual kickoff for us, as the temperature was a balmy 42 degrees, and the intermittent rain only frustrated the first two heats.

With last year's STS mafia changing classes, and therefore not spilling over to STX, this year looks to be a whole new ball game.

Gollum the JCW STX MCS was joined by three WRXs - five including the novice drivers. As usual those wise and speedy folks did a small rain dance after the driver's meeting, with the usual incantations and modest chanting and sacrifices. Despite these proceedings, STX ran in Heat 4 which turned out to be the only truly dry heat of the day.

Due to a FedEx misadventure, this year's tires were not available yet, so last year's rock hard and glass smooth 225 RS2 Kooks were pressed into service for one more event - durometer testing determined that these venerable and tattered tires were somewhat harder that an NHL hockey puck, and slightly softer than steel.

The course featured an interesting collection of slaloms, offsets, and a few pinched sections to catch the unwary. Due to low pre-reg numbers the normal practice of using the whole triangle of runways and taxiways was set aside and instead a "rabbit ears" layout with two turnarounds made for better spectating and less corner worker stress. With 160 competitors arriving on the day, we could have used the standard approach but who knew?

Run one was conducted with élan, panache, and brevity. I launched, turned hard left around the first cone, grabbed second, lined up the first slalom, and spun hard on the second gate of the slalom. Fortunately a fellow competitor with an A Stock Vette had already demonstrated this approach, and so when I spun I was able to follow the foot wide streaks of R compound rubber and thereby came to a stop before leaving the paved surface. After a small round of applause from the corner workers I continued, discovering numerous other opportunities for overdriving and mayhem as I completed that inaugural run. Result, off course. Zero for one!

Run two profited from the experience gained in run one, allowing me to make it much further through the course before falling prey to hunger which required me to eat a few cones. Reducing rear tire pressures somewhat helped keep the car pointed forward (sort of) although the rear hockey pucks remained cold to the touch despite my efforts to warm them by sliding sideways and backwards. As usual, the winter had stripped me of everything I ever knew about driving, so on Run 2 I started to re-educate myself. The key lesson of the run was the importance of looking ahead - particularly when running NHL rubber on a cold day. Result, coneage! Zero for two!

At this point my fellow competitors, notably a nice gent from Fairfield County (who somehow convinced his better half to let him race despite their three month old son - now THAT's love!) were demonstrating the value of actually driving between the cones and remaining in control. The NY WRX best exemplified this approach and clocked a pretty fast run for his 2nd attempt, making it necessary for me to clean up my act without slowing up much.

Run 3 I felt like Ortiz coming to the plate, with two strikes against me and loaded bases (David was batting .168 so far this year, last time I checked). I steeled myself to actually drive the course as opposed to amusing and irritating the corner workers, and off we went! The run seemed slow to me, and did not include any backwards travel to speak of. The run did include approximately 150 feet of sideways travel however, with a full turn of opposite lock and hammer down at over 50 mph, due to more ham fisted driving by yours truly. Despite all that I earned almost a two second cushion over my distinguished competitors and a grudging nod from the event announcer who had been truly enjoying himself calling attention to my incompetent antics in the earlier runs.

So of course I slipped directly into undeserved complacency, and even had the poor judgment to commiserate with my WRX foe - pointing out to him that with five cars in the class he had a trophy coming and should therefore hang around before returning south so as to have something to show his family for the time and travel.

Then I realized he had one run left! That shut me up, and I waited in the combined hope that he'd find the speed to whip me, and the hope that he would not. He didn't. He was faster, but not fast enough - finishing about 1.5 seconds off my third run.

And then, about ten minutes after my last run, the timing truck found a cone for me - bless their hard working hearts. That took me out of the top spot (justice, considering the carnage I had caused on course) and put that WRX driving new Dad at the top of the podium (justice again!!).

"The wheels of the gods grind slowly -- but they grind exceedingly small!"

All in all, a great day full of comedy and a few stout performances. The only tragedy was an Evo that apparently ate a connecting rod during the first run - now that is a sound you never want to hear.

Today the other three Dunlops should arrive, and I will have the great pleasure of saying good bye to the Hankooks. De mortuis nil nisi bonum dicit..