DRAG RACING ? WHAT ME ?

It was only while recently testing sports cars in the USA that I began to appreciate the skill in launching a car off the line quickly and cleanly for the all-important quarter mile time. As Michael Schumacher sat impotently on the grid in Suzuka that year, title aspirations and car stalled, he was probably ruefully pondering the same set of considerations. I had found my way to the marginally less glamorous venue of Santa Pod, spiritual home of British drag racing, in order to be shown how to effect the perfect getaway. My tutor for the day was Chris Bates, a competitor in the Super Gas class, who was bringing his Ford Sierra. Vauxhall had provided me with a Vectra, so I'd initially believed it could be quite an equal contest. Then I saw my opponent's car.

With a lightweight fibreglass body, oil drum wheels, a methanol swilling Chevrolet engine bulging from the bonnet and with a savagely sculpted chin spoiler, this truly was the Jocelyn Wildenstein of Ford Sierras. I chuckled with relief, knowing I had a massive horsepower deficit to fall back on as a ready excuse. After a few runs up the quarter mile in the Vectra, my 17.4 second time was being beaten by all comers. Chris pointed out my mistakes. You're still getting too much wheelspin at the start. Try less revs and let the clutch out quicker. Don't hold onto the gear so long. You'll be quicker changing up earlier. Drive straight. Anyone would think this was difficult. Soon the time was down to 17.1 and I was feeling confident. Get suited up, you're riding with me now barked Chris, striding off towards Jocelyn.



Something about having your arms lashed down to prevent them breaking the window lends certain gravity to the situation. I had sunken into a deep bucket seat, strapped in with a six-point belt and was wearing a thick neck roll, gloves and full-face helmet. Chris climbed in beside and ran through his pre flight procedure before pressing the button. At t...