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Ever have a moment...where you wonder if your kind-hearted nature buried you right up to your ass in bad ideas? I did. This is the story of my past 36 hours and why I am seriously glad this year's autocross season has ended.
This story begins Saturday night with the normal Subaru meet. The rains in WA have commenced, no big surprise. However, after everyone shows up, we're gonna do a midnight cruise to Dick's in Seattle. (Dick's being a small hamburger stand on Broadway, the one Sir Mix-a-Lot sang about in Posse on Broadway). I'm down for any reason to cruise, so I'm in. We leave the coffeeshop at 9pm and head north.
About the time we pass the Tacoma Dome two things become apparent: 1. The rains are increasing steadily and surely. 2. We are doing, at best, 55mph. I can't help the rains, and since I'm the tail of this convoy of about seven cars I have no idea why we're so slow. Meh, whatever. We get to Dick's with minimal problems and settle in for dinner.
Except one. Someone forgot to inform me that Dick's is a cash-only place. I have $1. Not enough. I get a loan and get dinner. Not bad at all. Not sure it was worth the drive, but that's just me.
Alan wants to do something in Seattle. Since I have to be up at 5am for the autocross, I decline, as well as Noah. We both decide that the convoy speed back will be significantly more than 55mph.Since Noah has GPS and I do not feel like being lost in Seattle, I tail him out to I-5, and within seconds of hitting the Interstate it becomes a race. This was the stupidest idea I've had in ages...I was hydroplaning most of the way home. We were usually anywhere between 65-90mph depending on traffic and conditions. I know there was a few times I was floating, and one time, near Boeing Field, where the Monte threatened to swap ends on me.
Get home, CRASH. I'm dog-tired.
5am. I'm up. Fuel the car, get some money, meet at Krispy Kreme and convoy out to Bremerton. We're the first people there...we set up the registration tents, prep the cars for tech and wait for everyone to show.
And THAT's when the destruction began.
This photo was supposed to be of the elusive S_G. Instead, note the weather HERE...
and HERE.
It F'd our day up bad. I never did get a measurement on the gusts...I do know it totalled the registration tent, the Lions Club of Port Orchard's tent, moved 80% of the course cones, and moved a Port-a-John about 90 yds away from it's original intended location and slammed it into a F-150.
And we kept on racing. And by "we", since it was the Ladies' Auto-X today, that translated into anything with an XY chromosome pair working the course, standing in the 40-something degree rain for four hours while the ladies had a go at the course. I lost feeling from the waist down, both due to cold and nerve damage. I had layered (T-shirt, hoodie, Army Trench Coat) and it didn't do shit...and I was better off than some. Alan's brother had to leave the course and go warm himself in my car.
At lunch we got our shot at our free runs. I could've cared less, I had seat-heaters and a warm engine...I was set. But I came out here with the promise of practice laps and I'll be damned if I don't get to do them. Michelle, one of the track chairmen, would work the starter position for us, her "contribution" to the day. Let's set one thing straight: Michelle is not my cup of tea. Put bluntly, she's a smug princess who overdrives the hell out of what she's in. Earlier today, she put someone else's BMW 135 into the scotch broom...a good 35 yards off course. So when I hit the starting line, I couldn't help myself...trac off, floor it, spray the starter. I launched hard enough that I was spinning through 3rd gear. I got three runs in before her pissed off husband waived me off and told me to park it.
After the guys runs, the male members of PIA decided that there was no way, no f'ing how that we were going back out. And the ladies sympathized with us...so off to a post-race habit, Carl's Jr. in Tacoma. We left Bremerton with clearer skies and mild rain. We found the wicked shit as we went south...
The rain picked up dramatically as we neared the Tacoma Narrows, but that pales in comparison to what we got slammed with as we parked at Carl's Jr. The second I shut the door on the car, Mother Nature threw a temper tantrum.
At least 3/4" of rain, hail, wind gusts like this morning, and lightning (something I've only seen 3 times in WA State) hit in the matter of two minutes. I had stripped out of the soaked trench coat and hoodie and was just wearing a white t-shirt. I did have a change of clothes, and had grabbed the black shirt I had with me. Glad I did, I was the winner of the wet t-shirt contest, and I sprinted-as best as someone who can't feel their legs or feet could-to the door.
Lunch over, and home. I collapsed shortly after arriving.
This story begins Saturday night with the normal Subaru meet. The rains in WA have commenced, no big surprise. However, after everyone shows up, we're gonna do a midnight cruise to Dick's in Seattle. (Dick's being a small hamburger stand on Broadway, the one Sir Mix-a-Lot sang about in Posse on Broadway). I'm down for any reason to cruise, so I'm in. We leave the coffeeshop at 9pm and head north.
About the time we pass the Tacoma Dome two things become apparent: 1. The rains are increasing steadily and surely. 2. We are doing, at best, 55mph. I can't help the rains, and since I'm the tail of this convoy of about seven cars I have no idea why we're so slow. Meh, whatever. We get to Dick's with minimal problems and settle in for dinner.
Except one. Someone forgot to inform me that Dick's is a cash-only place. I have $1. Not enough. I get a loan and get dinner. Not bad at all. Not sure it was worth the drive, but that's just me.
Alan wants to do something in Seattle. Since I have to be up at 5am for the autocross, I decline, as well as Noah. We both decide that the convoy speed back will be significantly more than 55mph.Since Noah has GPS and I do not feel like being lost in Seattle, I tail him out to I-5, and within seconds of hitting the Interstate it becomes a race. This was the stupidest idea I've had in ages...I was hydroplaning most of the way home. We were usually anywhere between 65-90mph depending on traffic and conditions. I know there was a few times I was floating, and one time, near Boeing Field, where the Monte threatened to swap ends on me.
Get home, CRASH. I'm dog-tired.
5am. I'm up. Fuel the car, get some money, meet at Krispy Kreme and convoy out to Bremerton. We're the first people there...we set up the registration tents, prep the cars for tech and wait for everyone to show.
And THAT's when the destruction began.
This photo was supposed to be of the elusive S_G. Instead, note the weather HERE...
and HERE.
It F'd our day up bad. I never did get a measurement on the gusts...I do know it totalled the registration tent, the Lions Club of Port Orchard's tent, moved 80% of the course cones, and moved a Port-a-John about 90 yds away from it's original intended location and slammed it into a F-150.
And we kept on racing. And by "we", since it was the Ladies' Auto-X today, that translated into anything with an XY chromosome pair working the course, standing in the 40-something degree rain for four hours while the ladies had a go at the course. I lost feeling from the waist down, both due to cold and nerve damage. I had layered (T-shirt, hoodie, Army Trench Coat) and it didn't do shit...and I was better off than some. Alan's brother had to leave the course and go warm himself in my car.
At lunch we got our shot at our free runs. I could've cared less, I had seat-heaters and a warm engine...I was set. But I came out here with the promise of practice laps and I'll be damned if I don't get to do them. Michelle, one of the track chairmen, would work the starter position for us, her "contribution" to the day. Let's set one thing straight: Michelle is not my cup of tea. Put bluntly, she's a smug princess who overdrives the hell out of what she's in. Earlier today, she put someone else's BMW 135 into the scotch broom...a good 35 yards off course. So when I hit the starting line, I couldn't help myself...trac off, floor it, spray the starter. I launched hard enough that I was spinning through 3rd gear. I got three runs in before her pissed off husband waived me off and told me to park it.
After the guys runs, the male members of PIA decided that there was no way, no f'ing how that we were going back out. And the ladies sympathized with us...so off to a post-race habit, Carl's Jr. in Tacoma. We left Bremerton with clearer skies and mild rain. We found the wicked shit as we went south...
The rain picked up dramatically as we neared the Tacoma Narrows, but that pales in comparison to what we got slammed with as we parked at Carl's Jr. The second I shut the door on the car, Mother Nature threw a temper tantrum.
At least 3/4" of rain, hail, wind gusts like this morning, and lightning (something I've only seen 3 times in WA State) hit in the matter of two minutes. I had stripped out of the soaked trench coat and hoodie and was just wearing a white t-shirt. I did have a change of clothes, and had grabbed the black shirt I had with me. Glad I did, I was the winner of the wet t-shirt contest, and I sprinted-as best as someone who can't feel their legs or feet could-to the door.
Lunch over, and home. I collapsed shortly after arriving.
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