Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.
Chapter 27
Sunday, Race day, Hockenheim, Germany
I smiled for the cameras as the press photographers took their pictures of me and Kelly. As usual they were more interested in our private lives than they were in my race standing. Which for this race sucked major hind tit. Thanks to having to replace the engine and transmission for both cars really upset the balance for both mine and Beth’s cars. It threw off our timing so bad it wasn’t even funny. We were barely able to Qualify in the low teens. Hell, I was happy with placing fourteenth, with Beth getting fifteenth. We were already figuring out how to get through the field and place somewhere in the top five.
The only bright spot over the last few days for me was Kelly’s surprise arrival on Thursday night. We spent most of the night practicing for our honeymoon. Friday was a total waste of time with the exception of the sponsorship and engagement party held by Mercedes-Benz. I was slightly surprised by the change in attitude of the grandmas. I almost fell over when they told us that we could delete over ninety percent of the assholes form the list that they wanted us invite to our wedding. Here they had been busting mine and Kelly’s chops about having these people at the wedding. Then to just perform an about-face with no warning was almost too much to handle.
I just grabbed Kelly by the hand and thanked the four women. Then headed for the bar. After grabbing a cold coke for both of us we headed off to mingle with the crowd. I was amazed by the number and type of employees that showed up for the party. Sure, there were a few of the big wigs, but there were also file clerks, factory workers, even a few car salesmen in the crowd. I did get into one minor argument with one of the guys from the design department. It seems that my Dodge Viper has raised a few hackles among the everyday employees of Mercedes-Benz. Anyway, this designer tried to tell me that my car was nothing more than a flash in the pan. Just like all American sports cars.
Needless to say, I was pissed off. I told the gentlemen that he needed to go back and double check his facts. Before one of my teammates got involved and corrected his attitude for him. I started to chuckle when his Department Head informed him that while Mercedes-Benz produced some of the finest Sports Cars in the world, they did not own the market on those types of cars. That some of the greatest Sports Car designs had come out of Detroit, Michigan. I also did a spit-take upon hearing this one man’s admission of facts.
I quickly thanked him then moved on to find someone else to talk with as he took his designer off to one side to have a very pointed conversation. Kelly and I spent the next few hours glad-handing the rest of the attendees. Before finally slipping out to spend the night in each other’s arms back in our room. Sadly, the next morning didn’t go nearly as excepted.
No matter what I did or tried out on the track. I just couldn’t place higher than fourteenth. For some stupid reason I just couldn’t squeeze out the performance that I need from the car. I just couldn’t find the needed balance for the race. I was fighting the car the whole time during Qualifying. I know that if I had another fifteen to maybe twenty laps, I could have found the right balance. I sighed looking out at the track.
“Trying to figure how to win the race honey?” Kelly asked from where she stood. “Babe, you’re just going to have to deal with what you got until you get out there and start driving for real.”
“I know that honey. I just hate having to do that during a race. I don’t like having to fight my way through traffic. That and making changes to the cars on the fly during a race. I make one wrong choice and everything we’ve tried up to that goes to shit.” I told her bluntly. Only to have her wrap her arms around me.
“Bobbie, this is what you’re good at. Beth can’t do what you can. Chief Hailee, and Chief Marks always listen to you when they setup her car. They use what you tell them about your car to fix her car. Sure, Beth is the more analytical driver, but you’re the one that can just feel out the situation on the fly. It takes Beth forever to figure out what you do in just half a lap. I shouldn’t have to point this out to you. You know it already. Now, go get into the headspace you need to win this fucking race.” With a gentle shove in the back Kelly pointed me to the team trailer.
I took the hint and headed for the trailer. I knew that I needed all the time I could get to clear my head for the race. My crew just smiled as I stepped inside the trailer’s forward compartment and closed the door. I really have gotten to love this specially built trailer. It has everything to rebuild one of the cars in the back three quarters and a small compartment up front. It maybe just 8 feet by 6 feet without any windows, but it was my little piece of heaven for when I need to get ready for a race.
I know that Mercedes-Benz offered to get us one of those massive RV buses for our use at the tracks. It just wasn’t mom or dad’s style. Not that I wasn’t too keen on the idea myself. Those damned things draw far too much attention for my tastes. Besides, if I had one of those, I would be too tempted to just hideout in there until I had to come out and drive. No dealing with the fans, no dealing with the press, no dealing with anything. Just coming out to drive for the purity of the sport.
I put in my earbuds and hit play on my iPod. Once the music started playing, I sat down on the bed and let myself fallaway. I let the music take me to that place I needed to be for the race. It took only one song before I was going over the track in my mind. I took each turn, every straightaway and broke them down. Each one, one at a time. I was also feeling my way around the track in my mind. By the end of the second song I knew what had to be done to the cars to bring them within racing trim.
For the next hour I went over every little change I wanted in the car before moving out onto the track. When I was done, I hit stop and hurried out to find Chief Hailee. Hoping I was in time. If not, then I would just have to make the changes on the fly. I found him and Chief Marks standing beside Beth’s car.
“Chief Hailee, is it too late to make final adjustments to the cars?” I asked them both in a rush.
“Sorry, kiddo, but the Marshals have already made their final inspections. Why? What do you know that we don’t?” Chief Hailee said with a knowing smirk.
“Let’s just say that on our first pitstop I need five degrees more down force on the front wing for starters. Drop the rear wing by five degrees. We’ll deal with the tire pressure as the track conditions change throughout the race.” I told them both with an answering smirk of my own.
Both men started to chuckle. Hailee turned to Marks. “Pay up buddy boy. I told you she would figure it out before the race started.”
I watched Chief Marks reached inside his jumpsuit pulling out a ten-dollar bill. Handing it over to Hailee, Marks was chuckling. “I should have known better than to take that bet. It was a sucker bet if I ever heard one. But it is still the best ten bucks I ever spent at a race.”
“Great, just fucking great. It’s bad enough that the bookies in Vegas, Atlantic City, and just about every legal casino in the world are giving odds on me and Beth. Now my own Pit Crew Chiefs are placing bets on me. I want in on the action damn it.” I bitched just before I started giggling. I knew that there’s no way that I could legally place a bet anywhere in the world.
“I think that we can take of that for you, kiddo. As it stands right now the odds-on favorites are Maloney and Salivatory. They got you and Beth at fifteen-to-one odds for winning the race. And ten-to-one odds for placing in the top five. With five-to-one for you girls placing in the top ten at the end of the race. Where do you want to place your money, Speedy?” Chief Hailee told me honestly with more than just a smirk. It was a full-blown shark’s grin with a mouthful of teeth.
“I never said this but place a c-note on us to place in the top five. With another c-note for on each of us to win.” I told them both as I turned to walk away. I tossed over my shoulder. “If anyone asks me. I don’t know nothing. Don’t worry guys I’ll be sure to cover the bets.”
The two men just chuckled as they pulled out their iPhones. I knew that by the time the race started the bets would be placed and I would basically be none the wiser; at least as far as anyone who was a legal authority was concerned. I chuckled to myself as I knew that the Crew Chiefs for our team always looked out for the members of the teams. I always knew that they took care of the teams in the pits. Now I knew they took care of their private lives as well. If they were placing bets for them on the side, who was I to say anything. I don’t care if the guys and gals make a little money on the sly by betting on me and Beth. After all everyone knows that money talks and bullshit walks.
Then there is the fact that most of my pit crews make enough money to cover the bets. I’ll only get involved if it becomes a problem. I don’t need or want a gambling addict on my team. They all knew my stance on that kind of shit. I had already outlined in black and white what I would and wouldn’t put up with. And drugs, alcohol, and any other type of addiction would get them bounced in a hurry. That was the only thing I won’t, no couldn’t put up with. I’ve already seen what that sort of thing would do a racing team’s creditability in the eyes of the fans.
As I neared my own car, I saw that my crew was starting to get antsy. You could practically feel the tension surrounding the pit area. Danny gave me a hard look. “You ready to tear this track a new asshole, Bobbie?”
“Yeah I’m more than ready guys.” I said giving them a smile.
“That maybe the case girlfriend, but what we want to know is. How the fuck you going to get through that field out there?” Terry asked me with more than a little sarcasm.
“Look, guys don’t worry. I got a plan for taking the field and the race. I just need you all to be on the bounce, the second I stop. Kat, Lisa, Sue, Ter, on the first stop you girls are going to have to be really on the bounce. Because you four will be making the first and most important adjustments to the car.” I figured that I might as well give them all the down and dirty.
“What’s up Bobbie? You’ve never given us this kind of prerace dirt before. Just what do you have us doing?” Terry asked for the four girls that I named off.
“All four stabilizers are going to need slight adjustments. Don’t worry about the tire pressure until the next stop guys. No matter what happens we got to get those adjustments done on the first go. After that we can work on the car throughout the race with each pit stop. I got a feeling as the day gets hotter that track is going to get slick as cat shit on a tile floor.” I figured that they all needed to know what I had already figured out.
I saw the smiles slowly come to half of their faces. Then I watched as bills were exchanged between one half of the team and the other. I couldn’t believe it. My pit crew was placing bets among themselves on me now. The sad part was, it was the guys paying off the girls. When it finally hit me, I started to giggle. I couldn’t help myself. The guys actually let the girls sucker them into betting against me. Even after all the rat-races, and Formula One races that I’ve run. They still fell for the girls’ ploy.
“Alright you clowns, are you done goofing around at my expense, yet? Maybe you would like to place a few inside wagers on what music I’ll be using for the race? No wait, I know. Who wants to take bets on the wear pattern on the tires at the end of each pitstop?” I gripped at them all.
“Chill out Bobbie. Let the guys have their fun.” Beth said with more than a little mirth in her voice from behind me.
“Okay sis, but if I find out that these chuckle-nuts start placing bets on what panties I’m wearing. Then I reserve the right to pound them into the pavement.” I bitched as the girls of the pit crew just laughed.
We were interrupted by the announcement that all drivers look forward to on race day. “All drivers report to your cars.”
“Time to punch in. Remember what I told you guys.” I took a deep breath and headed for my car. “Today is going to be a long day boys and girls. Stay on the bounce.”
“You got it BOSS.” Danny Hailee said with a smirk.
“Oh shut-up Danny. Kelly give me a hand getting into the cockpit.” I asked of my fiancée. As I dropped into the seat of the car Kelly handed me my balaclava. I put in my earbuds before then connect them to my radio and iPod. As I pull my balaclava over my head and ponytail Kelly helps me tuck it in under my racing leathers. Next, she hands me my helmet then begins to strap me in. With her tightening my safety harness I pull on my gloves. Kelly leans over me and kisses my helmet where my mouth would be if she could get to it. With a smile she stood up straight.
“For luck love. I have a feeling that you’re going to need it out there today.” With a pat on top of my helmet she turned on walked over to her position behind the safety wall. I gave Chief Hailee the thumbs up signaling that I was ready for engine start. All I had to do now was wait for the six most important words in racing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines.” I more feel than hear the engine kickover and come to life. I let the smile come to my face as the chained and bound speed demon howls its fury at being enslaved to my will. I know that 67 laps and just short of 305 km to ring the shit out of the engine and transmission. I just hope like hell that they don’t carp out on me.
One at a time the cars pullout and fall into their starting line up behind the pace car. As much as I want to just open her up, I know that I have to wait. It takes the field two full laps before signaled to pull in for the start. As I pull to a stop, I take one last look around me before locking my eyes on the lights. This is where I will need to make up the most positions today.
I had to get the jump on the guys in front me now. Here at the start of the race if my plan was going to work. The problem was going to be working my way through the field. Both Beth and I had to get out of the teens and into the single digits before we can really start making the needed adjustments to the cars. I slowly rev the engine as I wait for the green to drop.
When it comes, I know that I got the needed jump on the others. I led Beth between the 13th and 12th positions as if they weren’t even there. As we speed down the front straightaway towards the first turn the field is already starting to spread out. As we enter turn 1, or better known as Nordkurve, I can already tell that I will need more down force on the frontend that I originally predicted. That or a steeper raise to the rear spoiler.
I keyed my mike. “Chief Hailee change in plans for the first stop. I want to change the rear spoiler to a steeper down angle.”
“How steep do you want it to go, Speedy? Talk to us here kid.” Chief Hailee asked with no hesitation.
“At least seven degrees for now, Chief. On both sides.” I told him quickly. Then added a second thought. “While you’re at it drop the tire pressure for the front end by four pounds on each side.”
“That going to be enough Speedy?” Chief Marks asked out of nowhere.
“I don’t know Chief. But it sure even out the race trim to give us a better performance. I’ll let you know more over the next few laps. I should have a better idea by the time I’m ready for my first pit stop. Say around lap fifteen or twenty.” I knew that I would be pushing things, but I had to go for as long as possible.
“Negative Bobbie. You need to pit sooner than that.” Kathy came up on the radio fast correcting me. “I’ve already spotted four points on the track that are going to eat the shit out of your tires. You’ll need to pit no later than lap twelve. Turns two, six, seven, eight, and twelve are all greener than a slapping in springtime. I won’t bother you by telling you how nasty the Parabolika has gotten since yesterday.”
I didn’t know what she was talking about until I actually hit that long curving straightaway came into view. I swear it was like I was driving on marbles the whole way down. It just didn’t make sense to me. Yesterday this part of the track was like driving in a dream. Today it was a fucking nightmare. It was taking all of my concentration to manage the curving straightaway and keep the car at close to racing speed.
I hit the Hairpin and down shifted into second gear while braking as hard as I could. I knew that I was going in harder and faster than I should. Yet I had to take the turn this way. I needed to pass two more drivers before we got to turn 12 and the grandstands. If I don’t then all my plans will be for nothing. I have to be in the top ten positions just to give my crew the time they need. This first stop will not be our normal 1.25 second stop. It will be closer to somewhere around 3 to 4 seconds if not longer.
I slide past the 11th place car barely. The son-of-bitch was doing his best to block me and Beth. He just made one mistake. He took his eyes off of me in his rearview mirror. He never spotted the slide move I was putting on him from the outside until it was too late. Beth gave me just the opening that I needed to slip by and take 10th while she dropped into position to challenge for 9th. I smiled as we rounded turn 7 as she pulled the same move but on the inside this time to take the position. Leaving me to rip into the poor unsuspecting driver out of nowhere.
I was able to pull a full slip-slide move on the guy on the short straightaway between turn turns 7 and 8. I think that the way we are driving has been twisting more than one driver’s tit on the circuit. Most of them still haven’t figured out how we can pull the moves that we do. I think only McNairy, Lacasse, and Rodríguez have been able to get a real handle on how we race.
And for this race they three gentlemen should not be a factor. Thank the good Lord. All three place well behind me and Beth in Qualifying. And with the passes that we just completed they’re even further behind. It’ll take a monumental screwup for them to even threaten either of us. One that I’m hoping to avoid.
For the next seven laps Beth and I hold our positions. There was no need to push things as we were in place for our plans to work. Just as I cross the start finish line for the start of lap 9 the yellow flag comes out for a full track yellow. I start slowing down as I round turn 1 when Kathy comes up on the radio.
“Back it down hard Bobbie. There’s a two-car spinout right in the middle of the Parabolika. It isn’t too bad, but the tow trucks are going to need time to clean up the mess. Both drivers are out safe and sounds. It was just one of those raceway screwups.”
“Copy that Kathy. How long do you think it will take them to clean up the track?” I needed to know for my pit stop plans.
“You got at least two maybe three laps before going back to green. I suggest you pit on the next go around. That’ll give the teams enough time to make the needed adjustments and still put you in position to come out in the top five before we go green.”
“How do you figure that, Kathy?”
“More than a few of the other teams are already talking about pitting on the third yellow flag lap. They’ll be in the pit while you pass them on the track. Even if you pit before they do. They’ll have to come in after you sooner or later.”
I chuckled at Kathy’s assessment of the situation. She has come a long way from her first time acting as my spotter. Her mother was just as good if not better. I swear those two truly have become our secret weapons. I know for a fact that they haven’t lost one morning or evening on the tracks. They are out here running these tracks as if they’re training for a marathon. They get out here and run at least three laps every morning and evening. They know these tracks better than anyone else on our teams.
Coach Hall came up on the radio just after Kathy finished her last broadcast. “Bobbie, Beth, come in on this lap for your pit stops. Not later, now. It’ll throw off the count for the other drivers and give you an extra four seconds in the pits.”
I didn’t even argue with the Coach. For some reason she has been able to spot those little timing glitches that either makeup for or break a team’s timing. If I can give my pit crew those much-needed seconds, then I’ll listen to Coach Hall every time.
We around turn 4 onto the Parabolika. I get my first look at the wreck and can tell that this one could have been avoided. As I pass them, I take in the paint scheme for the first car. I sigh as I know exactly what and why this happened. Castro was pushing his car to do more than what he could handle. The man was trying to pull some type of power-drift on the other car using the side-draft to pass. The problem with using the side-draft between two cars is this. If you get too close, they’ll create a vacuum between them. That vacuum is strong enough to pull the two cars into each other.
“What an idiot. When is he going to quit trying to race like he is the only one on the track.” As I pass the second car, I noticed that the car belonged to McNairy. “Oh shit. I hope the Marshals keep McNairy away from Castro until after the race.”
As we clear the wreck site and round the hairpin I know that the Marshals will be able to keep the two men apart. For some reason I got the feeling that McNairy would happily beat the crap out of Castro for what happened today. Not that I blamed the man. Ramon Castro has been spoiling for a life-altering ass-beating from day one of the season. Sadly, I know where it all started. With me. Why I just don’t know or care anymore.
The man just won’t give up his grudge with me. I’ve gone out of my way to race the man fairly. Yet, he still blames me for something that I have yet to figure out. It doesn’t matter though. I just hope like hell that when he finally self-destructs. He doesn’t do it on the track taking someone else with him. Him and that teammate of his, Arthor Kent.
The Safety Car leads us around the final turn onto the front straightaway. I know that now is the best chance we’ll get for making those changes. The only problem is the rest of the field is filling in right along with Beth and me. I want to pound on the steering wheel out of frustration. Someone must have spotted what we were doing. Even as I pulled into my pit stall, I knew that more than half the field would pass me by before the changes would be completed. There was nothing I could do about it either.
The guys had me in the air the second I stopped. I watched as every member of my pit crew swarmed over the car. Each person handling their own assigned tasks. I knew that I wouldn’t have to worry about them doing their jobs. I just had to do mine now. I watch as first one then two and finally just stop counting the cars roar past me and Beth as we sit in our pit stalls. Finally, at three seconds the guys drop my car.
I drop the hammer and haul ass out of my pit and pit road with Beth hot on my tail. We pull out and find ourselves at the end of the pack. Beth comes up on the radio madder than a wet cat.
“Alright, Speedy. You got us into this fucking mess. How do you plan on getting us out of it?”
“Um… I’m working on it, sis. Give me a few seconds to get back to you.” I really was working on it. I just didn’t know how I was going to get us from the back of the pack to the front again. I mean we got sixteen cars between us and the top positions.
Then it hit me. WE were at the rear of the field. WE were the threat. Every driver in the field will be looking over their shoulder for us. I started to giggle as I keyed my radio for the team broadcast. “Okay people, this is how we’re going to crack this nut. Beth we’re going to tag team these guys.”
“Tag team them. What the hell are you talking about Bobbie?” Beth asked me in total confusion.
“We spilt them one at a time, Beth. You take the inside and I’ll take the outside. Then we switch things for the next car. We got fifty-seven laps to work our magic on the other drivers. That’s one driver every three laps. I figure we can take down at least two or three before they catch onto what we’re doing. After that it’ll be a non-stop fight to the end.” I heard Beth then Kathy and Coach Hall start to giggle as I laid out my plan for the rest of the race. It was something we had done in the past that would work once again. Only this time we would be going all the way.
“Sounds good to me Bobbie. I’m sure that we can pull it off. I only see one problem child. Kent. He’s sitting in fifteenth right now. There’s no way he’ll let us pass him without putting up a fight of some kind. It’s just not in him.” Beth pointed out for me and just about everyone else listening in on our radio chatter. We have been aware of the radio snoops for a while now.
Before I could comment on Beth’s observation about Kent the Safety Car dropped off the track. “Damn! Just stay in tight until it’s time to dance Beth. Hold your radio open and let the music take us to the finish line.”
“Spin the tunes sis. You’re our DJ for the rest of the race. I’ll dance to whatever tune you play.”
I slide my thumb over the new control buttons for my iPod that Chief Hailee had installed on the steering wheel. He had gotten with the nice people at Hamalton® to make me a truly customized steering wheel. One that I would allow me to control my iPod while driving at more than 190mph. all while not taking my hands off the wheel. Yesterday was the first time I got to use it. And I feel in love with it right away.
We came to the start/finish line and the lights turned green. Beth and I both grabbed a lower gear while I hit the shuffle button for my iPod to find the mix, I had setup just for today’s race. We rounded NordKurve to the opening notes of Scorpion’s ‘Winds of Change.’ I got a giggle from Beth over the radio. “Now that is the way to bring the race to life Bobbie.”
I just let a knowing smile come to my face as we start our dance. We take the first of our unknowing partners between turns 2 and 3. The guy never saw us coming. Beth took him on the outside while I went to the inside. After that it was just a few short seconds before we were drafting our next playmate.
That was the secret to our game plan. Most of these drivers aren’t used to someone drafting off their ass-ends the way they do in NASCAR. We maybe not be able to get right up onto their bumpers like they do with Stockcars. But we can use the draft their spoilers produce to get in nice and tight. The aerodynamic flow split between two cars is considerable. Two cars can go faster than one, but when you have three or more cars splitting the resistance. You get something that is magnitudes higher for performance. The downside to that is once one car drops out of the draft the lead car is suddenly left out there to hang while the follow-on cars have a sudden burst of speed.
We stay in tight on our new playmate halfway through the Parabolika. We suck him in tight to the next car in line. “Beth take the inside, I got the outside.”
We split and pass both drivers before they even know what it hit them. Three cars down in one lap. Not bad, not bad at all. It takes us the rest of the lap to get within striking distance of our next playmate. I’ve been hot on Beth’s tail the whole time. We round NordKurve once again only this time we overtake our newest playmate. We both go to the outside of the turn catching the guy totally off-guard. It wasn’t until we were on the Parabolika that I realized we had just passed Kent.
“Beth, that was Kent wasn’t it?” I asked her.
“It sure was, Bobbie. I don’t know why but he just let us roll-bye totally unopposed. I wonder what that is all about?” She was just as confused over this turn of events as I was.
“I don’t know or care Beth. So long as he isn’t trying to sabotage our asses I don’t care. Personally, I think he has gotten tired of listening to that fuck-nut Castro.” I told her honestly. “We’ll figure it out after the race.”
By this time, we had reached the hairpin and were on the backside of the circuit headed back for the grandstands. We powered our way around the rest of the track slowly gaining on our next playmate. With Beth in the led the whole way. I don’t know what is going on, but she has just enough of an edge to stay ahead of me now. Ever since our first pitstop it has been that way.
We rounded turn 16 and headed down the front straightaway. It was as if we were on fire. Nothing could stop us. We were bearing down on our next playmate when he did the unexpected. He pulled to the outside edge and stayed there. The thought of WTF went running like a jackrabbit through my head. Not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth both Beth and I rocketed passed the man on the inside. We swung wide enough to that when we reach turn 2 and 3 we had to brake and down shift hard to make the turns without drifting.
As much as I want to just drift for the whole race, I know that I can’t. I got to try and save the tyres as much as possible. I notice one thing about this track that was vastly different than the other tracks. It eats up tires like a starving man at an all you can eat buffet. The way the track has already rubbered up is fucking ridiculous stupid in some spots while slick as ice in other spots. It’s as if the track was fighting back. The more I thought about it the more I realized that it was like racing back home on the Darlington Raceway.
“Beth whatever you do, don’t fucking drift.” I warned my sister quickly. “The track is eating up our tyres.”
“Gotcha sis. Do you think that’s why everybody is letting us just pass them?” She asked me quickly.
“Dollars to donuts Beth. I know that’s what they’re doing. And hoping that we run through our tyres before the end of the race.” I figured that I needed to tell her what I had figured out.
“Then don’t play their game girls. We’ve got the old tyres here in the pit and Chief Hailee and Marks are going over them as we speak. We figure something out before your next pitstop.” Mom told us over the radio. I could tell that she was already figuring out a work around for the problem by the sound of her voice.
For the next 15 laps we played nice with the other drivers. Only passing them when they would pull over or made a mistake. Other than that, we stayed with our plan to save our tyres. We had been able to work our way up back up to where we started the race though. Well a little better than where we started. We were in ninth and tenth place respectively. Coach Hall started counting us down for a pitstop on lap 29 as we entered NordKurve.
We both listened to our spotters and hit our marks almost perfectly. I only missed one the whole way around. We hit the pits just ahead of our heaviest competition. I spot my pit stall and pull in slamming on the brakes. I feel my car bounce into the air. Then a second later slam down as the front jackman moves out of the way. I’m off. I race Beth out of pit road and onto the track.
I beat her onto the track by just a little over a second. Less than one car length. We come out right where we went in. We couldn’t have planned it any better. We round NordKurve and took off like a pair of banshees. It didn’t take me long to realize that mom, dad, and the Chiefs had figured out the answer to our tyre problem. Gone was the sluggish feeling I was having during the turns. Now, it felt like I was riding high on cloud nine.
Whatever they did to the tyres it fixed our handling problems. Mine especially. I was now taking the turns at almost top speed. Beth wasn’t far behind hind me either. We went from having to fight our way through the field to just blasting by them as if they were tied down to a ships anchor. Not just any ship but an Enterprise aircraft carrier. We had gone from trying to just place to trying to win the whole damned thing. Over the next 12 laps we had worked our way through the field.
We had just about completely rounded turn 8 and passed under the Mercedes Grandstands when the yellow came out again. This time it went from yellow to a full red flag stop. Beth and I had worked our way into fourth and fifth place by this time. I watched as the Safety Car pulled out in front of us and lead us rest of the way around the track to pit road. We were led to a stop where we were ordered to shut down our engines.
“Kathy how bad is the accident?” I asked her as she had not yet reported in on the wreck.
“It’s a bad one Bobbie. The cars are a total write off. The good news is all the drivers are safe. They’re being seen to by the medics as we speak. The only other thing I can tell you right now is that when we go back to racing is anyone’s guess.”
“Damn what did they do flip over?” Beth asked in shock.
“Two of the four did exactly that, Beth. It all went down in the hairpin. The first car blew out a tire and spun one-eighty before being hit head on by the three cars following him. Two went airborne and came down nose first. The last one just slammed head on into the first car forcing the two to spin out of control.” I cringed as Kathy gave us the description of what happened. I could see all clear as a bell in my mind.
It had been a wreck similar to the one she just described not too long ago. I had more than a little sympathy for those four drivers. I know that we all dance with the Bounty Hunter out here. It’s part of the bargain we strike to participate in this sport. One wrong move could put us in the wrong spot for a massive wreck. The only good thing about Formula One racing is there aren’t as many drivers or cars on the track at the same time. Formula One has only twenty drivers out here at a time. Unlike NASCAR where there are forty drivers pushing forty 3,300lbs cars at close to 200mhp. When those cars wreck it is truly miraculous that any driver just walks away unharmed.
I smile as Billy runs out with the starter and connects to the engine. I wait patiently for the signal to come for us to restart. Then something happens that I wasn’t expecting. The Marshals are walking the line signaling for all drivers to exit their cars. I pulled off my helmet and gloves as I climbed out of my cockpit. As I climb out the Marshal informs me that the race is over.
“What happened? I thought that all the drivers from the wreck got out safe. Why are you stopping the race?” I asked him.
“The guardrail along the backside of the hairpin needs to be replaced for safety reason. That has to be done before anymore racing can happen on this track Fräulien McGuire.” The man started to walk away but stopped. “Congratulations on taking fourth place. That was quite some run you and your sister had going.”
“Sir before you go can you tell me just how much of the guardrail will need to be replace? I’m just wondering.” I really curious.
“I believe that the track maintenance crew were saying something like fifty to fifty-five percent.” The Marshal told me honestly. “Sadly, it will take some time to make the repairs. More time than we have today for the repairs.”
“Thankyou sir. Can you answer one more question for me?” The man nodded his head yes. “How did someone hit the guardrail hard enough to cause that much damage?”
“Ah! I can see how that would be a valid concern. This was a case of physics in action. The two cars that collided head on with the first out of control car were sent airborne just before the hairpin turn. When they landed, each car tumbled into a deferent section of the guardrail. When the last car hit it took the first car into the nearest part of the guardrail destroying that section.” The Marshal explained for me. “Well Fräulien I must be going. More drivers to inform of the situation.”
“Danke, Herr. Einen schönen Tag noch.” I told him in German.
As we were talking Beth and the rest of the team gathered around my car to find out what was going. When the Marshal walked away, I turned to Beth. “Looks like we got a short-day sis. I hate ending a race like this but any race that you finish is a good one. I just wish we had, had ten more laps.”
“Why’s that Bobbie? Chief Hailee asked me. “You got fourth place not bad when you think about it.”
“Yeah I hear you Chief Hailee. But that that fifteen-hundred would have been nice to have for the repairs on the farm.” At his confused look I just chuckled. “What you didn’t think I saw you two placing the bets for me as I walked off?”
“Bobbie, we thought you were joking.” Chief Marks said in all seriousness. “If we knew that you were serious, we would have gone for the big money. And place our bets on you girls finishing first in a tie. The odds for that happening is somewhere around seventy-five-to-one in most casinos. A hundred-to-one in Vegas for that happening. The only place they’re higher is in Monticarlo. Those guys have the odds of you girls finishing in a tie at over a one-fifty-to-one with a twenty-minute inquiry from the marshals.”
Holy shit! They had to be joking but I could tell from their faces they weren’t. “How bad has the gambling gotten surrounding our sport here Chiefs?”
“Let’s just say that the marshals watch the teams closer than ever anymore. I won’t even go into what is happening with NASCAR. More than one team has had their sponsors threaten them with pulling out if there is even a hint of race fixing.” Chief Hailee told us all. Then he got a hard look on his face. “That’s why me and Chief Marks handle all the bets that are placed by this team through an outside contractor who gets a cut of the winnings. And we always bet on you girls to win.”
“Oh wow! I see your point. If you’re only betting on us to win then there is no way for someone to say that you fixed our cars to lose. Or that we threw the race.” Beth breathed out.
“Sis this is one time that we need to just turn a blind eye and walk away playing the part of the three monkeys.” I made the signs of the ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’ monkeys with my hands. Looking around at the other teams I sighed. “Come on guys. We don’t have time to stand around bullshitting. We got to get the cars put to bed and headed for the next race. By the way where are we for the next race?”
Kelly started giggling. “It’s Tuesday, so it must be Rome!”
-----tbc-----
Comments
I loved F1 racing when I was
I loved F1 racing when I was young, But all my friends followed the moonshine runners
“It’s Tuesday, so it must be Rome!"
cool stuff!
another great chapter
another great chapter
The betting contractor...
...is, most likely, a member of the Haskell family.
In a small mountain town in Western Maryland
*Marty Haskell picks up the phone at his desk* Wisp Mountain Ski, how can I help you? Marty speaking. You want to place how much on the McGire girls? A K-note. Sure I can cover that at what odds? Sorry, the best I can give you is fifteen to one for the win. Now, If you want ten to one for placing fifth place or higher? I might be able to do something for there. Sure what race? Sorry all covered. I am only taking bets on the Hungary, Belgium, and Italy right now. *hangs up the phone.* Damn those girls are either going to make me rich or bankrupt my ass
May the peace and happiness of the Goddess keep and protect you
as always your humble outlaw
Jessie Wolf
Marty Haskell
Not having read all of Jess' tales yet, I had to look him up (Google's site search is so useful!)
If anyone else is reading this retrospectively, he features in A Thief's Tale.
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
I swear...
this story is addictive. I get the jitters when I go too long between fixes. You do a great job of balancing humor, with action, with romance, with arsehats. Great job. Keep those racing angels rolling. ^_^ T.
I am a Proud mostly Native American woman. I am bi-polar. I am married, and mother to three boys. I hope we can be friends.
Just the story?
I have found just about everything the author writes is addictive. I've done a lot of re-reading of many of her stories.
Much as I hate to say it,
There is a lot about racing I just don't get.
Good they were okay
After watching both formula 1 and NASCAR, NASCAR wrecks protect the driver better than formula 1 drivers. Yet a wreck during either type race can bother everyone involved, especially if the driver is injured during the wreck. Others may not admit the wrecks bother them, but they understand how easy it could have been them involved in that wreck.
Bobbie and Beth seemed to be on their way to gain the lead had the race continued, given their method of passing others. Perhaps their next race Bobbie can determine the settings needed, before the marshals come around, to give her and Beth's cars the edge to win the race.
Others have feelings too.
real cars
I for one never could understand the F races. I mean, grown adults racing supp'ed up Go-carts? I'd rather watch actual cars race... not those Tonka Toys. Reguardless though this is a good story.