Stein was there for breakfast first thing in the morning, looking a bit rumpled from a night sleeping in the back seat of his truck. When I asked him about it, he said that normally he would have slept on an air mattress in the bed of the truck, but he couldn’t find his pump when he’d packed.
“It’s alright. I got a good couple of hours of sleep. I’ll be fine after some coffee.”
At the drivers meeting, the track official was true to his word. When it came time to talk about the passing rules, he was very clear.
“As for passing- do it safely. No running into anybody, no running anybody off the track. Other than that, pass anywhere you want and can do it safely. No need to wait for the driver ahead to pull over for you.”
Looking around to make sure everyone got his point, he added, “I got some complaints yesterday from some drivers who were upset at the way they were passed. Now, let me say, I watched the driver in question, and that driver might have passed aggressively here and there,” he said, getting knowing nods and sounds of assent from around the crowd of drivers. “But no pass that I saw, or that any of my corner marshals saw, ever put any other driver at any real risk. This is an open-track day,” he said. “Every single one of you, when you signed up, did so with the knowledge that this is for advanced, experienced drivers only with a lot of track time under your belt. If you can’t accept getting passed, go faster.”
There was a little grumbling, and one middle-aged guy raised his hand. When he was recognized, he asked, “Look, this is a track day for experienced drivers, we all understand that,” he began. “But it’s something else when a professional shows to do testing. That guy in the BMW-” he said, but was interrupted by June, the guy who had come to my pit the night before.
“That chick!” He said with a smirk. “That chick in the BMW.”
All the other drivers looked around and quickly figured out it was me he was talking about. I smiled and waved to the group, not bothering to say anything.
“Seriously?” The middle-aged guy asked. When gave him a wry look and shrugged in a ‘What can you do?’ sort of way, he frowned, then collected his thoughts.
“So when did it become O.K. for professional racers to do their testing in an open track day? The rest of us are just rolling obstacles for her to go around.”
The official said, “She signed up, just the same as you. She has to follow the same rules out here as you do. I haven’t heard her complain one bit about slow drivers blocking her lines- in fact, when I went to talk to her yesterday, she said that she liked that there were drivers of different speeds out on the track. She didn’t run into anybody, didn’t run anybody off the track, didn’t force anybody off their line yesterday. What she did do is pass every single one of you when she wanted, that’s it. That was completely within the track rules. End of discussion. If you think a particular pass was too hard, go talk to her. Tell her your side of things, and maybe ask her to give you more room next time. Be a man about it. Don’t come whining to me because your Carrera 4 got outbraked by a BMW sedan going into Turn Eight.”
Looking around, he seemed satisfied that everyone had gotten the point. “Alright,” he said. “Same instructions as yesterday, but we’re going the opposite direction today.” Nobody interrupted or asked any questions, so he finished up the drivers meeting without any more discussion.
June and Danny came over to say hello just as the meeting was breaking up.
“Dood, that guy was pissed,” Danny said. “Did you see his face when June outed you? He does not like the idea of a chick half his age schooling his shit. I mean, the guy thinks his Audi R8 is the shit, you know?”
“Those are nice cars,” I said with a shrug.
“Yeah, they are,” June agreed.
“Hey, you’re the one in the BMW race car?” The track photographer asked as I was about to walk back to my pit. “I have some great pictures of you. You should come check ‘em out.”
“Did you get any of me in the orange M6?” I asked.
“That was you, too? Yeah, a ton of photos. Stop by at the end of the day and I’ll put a package together for you.”
“Sounds good,” I said, but my mind was already moving on to the morning’s driving.
Back at the pit, I sat down with the track map, thinking about how the flow would work in the opposite direction.
“Leah,” Maddie said as she walked up. “Ready to rock today?”
“Always,” I said with a smile, amused by her enthusiasm.
“Can I grab a Red Bull?” She asked, heading towards the cooler the guys had already set out.
“Help yourself,” I said.
“So, um,” Maddie said, looking a bit nervous. "Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” I said, leaning back and focusing my attention on the teenager.
“So, like, one of my best friends is gay,” she began nervously. “And, like, we made out, on, you know, a dare at a party.”
“And?” I asked.
“Well, um, I kinda liked it, and I kinda didn’t want to stop. Does that mean I’m gay?” she blurted out.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked.
“Yeah- his name is Hunter,” she said.
“Have you made out with Hunter?” I asked.
“Yeah, we do it a lot, when we can,” Maddie admitted, looking bashful.
“And do you like that?” I asked.
“It’s great,” she said, and her expression told me that ‘great’ was underselling it.
“Then, maybe at the most, you’re bisexual,” I said. “Look, here’s the thing. Making out with people you really like is always going to feel good, no matter what else. Don’t overthink it. Just be who you are, and do what you feel like.”
“Do you do that? Do you do what you like?” Maddie asked.
“I do what I like,” I confirmed. “I try not to let other peoples’ preconceptions or attitudes change me.”
“Like driving a race car?” Maddie asked.
“That’s one example,” I said.
Out on the track, it only took me a couple of laps to understand the layout. Soon enough I was picking up speed as I felt myself slipping into the zone.
I know a lot of people talk about ‘flow states’ or ‘the zone’ in near-mystical terms, but I’ve never really felt it that way. For me, it’s almost a sort of meditation where my focus narrows to one specific aspect, whether it’s playing volleyball, running, or driving my car. When I get that way, the rest of the world just melts away and all that exists is contained within the limits of my subject of focus.
In this particular case, my world was bounded by the car, the track, and the other cars on it. There was no emotion, no stress, nothing- just speed, grip and the sound and feel of the engine. The car responded just as I knew it would with every flick of the shifters, every turn of the wheel, every foot on a pedal. This was the first time the BMW and I had come to this level of understanding, a level that had felt natural in my old GT-R.
Absently I noted the cars I passed with ease, more focused on the handful that took me a little longer to set up and get by. I was using the track layout to my advantage when passing these faster guys, lining up my pass a turn or two in advance when needed.
Eventually a red flag was waved and we all had to come in off the track while they had to yank some Porsche back onto the track. I hadn’t seen what the guy had done, but his left rear wheel was at a decidedly non-standard angle. His weekend had ended with an expensive repair, but I guess that’s the downside of playing roughly with your toys.
Like clockwork, the moment I was out of the car the crew had it up and the tires wrapped in warmers to keep them hot. Joachim was busying himself downloading the data, so I grabbed a Coke from the cooler and sat down to take a break.
“O.K., Liz, you’re always fast,” Stein said from his chair. “But you are absolutely on fire this morning. What did you have for breakfast?”
“I’m just finally clicking with the new car, that’s all,” I replied, taking a big swig. The first big swallow of an ice-cold Coke on a hot day has a special sort of raspiness as it goes down, scouring your mouth and throat in a particularly bracing way, making my eyes water a bit.
“Well, shit, that really didn’t take you long,” he said. “Seriously, what? Is this your third day behind the wheel of the BMW?”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Well, yeah, but the M6 isn’t really all that different, you know? So I think time spent driving the coupe helps out in getting accustomed to the race car, too.”
“If you say so,” he said, unconvinced.
A few minutes later Maddie and Lainey came over to visit. Maddie grabbed a Red Bull from the cooler without even asking, but Lainey waited until I offered to grab herself a bottle of water.
“You were going soooooo fast!” Maddie exclaimed. “It was like, bzow! You were past, and then what seemed like a few turns later, bzow again!” she said, her words faster than her car would ever go. “I tried to watch you, but you were just gone so fast I couldn’t even!”
“I was watching from the stands,” Lainey said. “Maddie is right- you were really flying out there. It’s like yesterday was just a warmup.”
“I’m feeling really good in the car this morning," I agreed.
“Leah?” Joachim asked, holding up the laptop to get my attention. I joined him at the table to look at what he had for me.
“O.K., as your speed is increasing, we’ve adjusted the shift points a bit more. Ideally, we’d change out the final drive, but for just a track day, that’s a bit too much to do. We’ll know for next visit to Chuckwalla, though,” he explained. “Also, we adjusted the toe-in a tiny bit to reduce oversteer, but that’s just minor. All in all, she’s running really good.”
“The car feels really good, Joachim. You guys are doing an excellent job,” I said. “Honestly, I’m really happy with all you and the guys have done this weekend. It’s been perfect.”
“Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot. You’ll put in a good word with the boss, right?”
“You do know he’s told me more than once that he wants to sell the dealerships to me, right? Odds are, pretty soon I will be your boss,” I replied.
“Everybody in the shop knows,” he said with a smile.
Back on the track, it took me no time at all to resume speed. The BMW was flawless, the conditions were perfect, and my thoughts were focused on one thing only- getting around that track as quickly as possible, trying to perfect every corner, every braking marker, every input.
I was quite surprised when the checkered flag came out to bring us in for lunch- I’d been out for over two hours non-stop, racking up laps like nobody’s business.
Back in the shade of the canopy at the pit, I unzipped my racing suit all the way to cool down and shrugged my arms out before I sat down.
Joachim was right there with a Gatorade for me (cucumber lime, my favorite flavor), saying, “Leah, you gonna stick with the GT3 for the rest of the day, or are you gonna go out in the coupe?”
“Probably the race car,” I said. “It’s working really well for me. I don’t want to break the rhythm, you know?”
“Alright. We’ll change tires right now, then. That’ll give the warmers time to work.”
As he hustled off to tell the boys to swap wheels, I slammed about half the bottle of Gatorade in one go.
Manny came over with a sandwich and some chips for me. “You’re gonna want to replenish your salt,” he said. “Eat the chips first.”
Smiling at his concern, I thanked him for lunch.
Stein showed up about that time, another track cafe burrito in his hand. He rooted in the cooler for a can of Diet Coke, then sat down in one of the other folding chairs.
“Liz,” he asked after taking a bit bite and washing it down. “When you pass somebody out there, do you even notice? I mean, every time you passed me, it was like I wasn’t even there. Your line adjusted a little bit, sure, but I don’t think your speed ever did. You were just, like, passing a slower car on the freeway. You changed lanes, sure, but never took the cruise control off.”
“Nah, that was mostly just you. Most of the rest of the drivers were harder to pass,” I said.
“Bitch!” he replied. “Seriously, I’m laying down solid sub-twos out there, feeling good about myself, and you just ease up and slide by with no freaking fanfare at all. I know I’ve got, like, fifty horses on you, but you get out of the turns and vanish into the distance with zero fucks given.”
“Four hundred pounds less might have something to do with it,” I suggested. “And wider tires that aren’t anything close to street legal.”
“Gotta be something,” he grumbled, but I could tell he wasn’t actually upset at all, for all the pretense.
About twenty minutes later the two guys from the night before came over to say hello again.
“Dood, you are so freaking fast!” Danny said as they walked up. “I thought you were killin’ it yesterday, but today, man, that BMW of yours goes by like some sort of loud freakin’ white streak. Blink and it’s gone.”
“Nothin’ but afterimages,” June agreed. “Normally, I’d be intimidated, you know, but I don’t even have time to think about it. It’s just, like, something that happens, you know?”
“That’s exactly what I was saying,” Stein said as he stood up to go do something.
“Guys,” I said. “Grab something from the cooler and sit down. Take a load off.”
“Thanks!” one of them said as he did what I suggested, grabbing himself a Red Bull. The other snagged a Gatorade, and they both plopped down in the other two folding chairs.
“So, um, Leah?” June asked, unsure whether he’d gotten my name right. I nodded to confirm he’d gotten it correct, so he continued. “Can I ask a question? Why’re you testing on a Joe Schmoe track day like this? I mean, it’s cool to see a pro out here killing it and all, but the rest of us must be just, like, annoying to have to pass over and over.”
“Nah,” I said, not bothering to correct the idea that I was a pro racer. I mean, if they could accept the idea that a woman could race professionally, who was I to tell them that was a rare thing? “Seriously, dealing with other cars on the track keeps it interesting. Otherwise every lap would be exactly the same, right?”
“I guess so,” June conceded. “It’s just- we’re so much slower. We must be holding you up.”
"This might sound funny,” I said, leaning back. “But the cars that are holding me up the most out here are the guys that are the fastest. There are a couple of other drivers out here who are going fast enough that I have to work to get by- those are the guys that wreck my lap times, because I can’t just get by. I have to plan my passes.”
“That… makes sense,” June admitted.
“A couple of cars out here have a lot more horsepower than I do, too, so I have to get by them on the brakes, so by the time we get on the gas I’ve already opened a gap.”
“Like that McLaren your buddy has?”
“Yeah, or that dark green Corvette Z06, for another,” I said. “That guy is going pretty good.”
“Yeah, he is,” June agreed. “He doesn’t pass like you do, though. He only passes in the straights.”
“Well, that’s his weakness out here,” I said. “In fact, you corner harder in your Subie than he does in that Z06. He’s really good at getting on the gas, though.”
June seemed to appreciate the compliment, taking it with a smile.
“I don’t even know what all that shit is in your cockpit,” Danny said as he sat back down. “You’ve got, like, a million switches and shit in there. And the steering wheel- what is all that?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” I said with a laugh. “I just drive it, that’s all,” I said. Sure, it was a lie, but I didn’t want to get into a discussion of mapping, pit lane limiters and the like. That was just too far into the weeds.
With the five minute call on the PA, the two guys left to get ready to drive. I suited up as the mechanics dropped the car, then grabbed my helmet off the cooling fan. Hans Device on, then helmet strapped and hooked up, I was ready to drive.
I waited for the initial rush of cars entering the track with the green flag, then rolled out once a gap opened up.
Traffic was pretty dense for the first few laps, but as my speed picked up it thinned out, allowing me to get back into my groove.
After a while, I caught up to Maddie’s Mitsubishi in the little straight before the bowl. Out of curiosity, I dropped in behind her to follow her for a couple of laps to see how she was doing. I was pleased to see that she was braking later and harder than she had been the morning before, using the car’s rotation to help scrub off speed instead of simply trail-braking all the way to the apex. This had the benefit of allowing her to get on the gas harder and earlier, just as I’d tried to explain the day before.
Maddie wasn’t really consistent with the new technique, but I could tell she was trying, so I gave her a thumbs-up when I finally passed her on the front straight and got back to work.
A few laps later I caught up to June’s yellow STI, so I did the same thing, just to watch his style. After a couple of turns, though, he got nervous and pulled aside and signaled for me to pass, so I did, waving at him as I went. Figuring that most drivers wouldn’t want me right on their asses, I didn’t bother following anybody else.
Taking the time to watch other drivers threw my focus off a bit, so it took me a while to get back into the zone. When I did, my times weren’t as good as they’d been in the morning, since the track was getting slippery with the heat as the afternoon sun beat down. I took this as an opportunity to play around with the TC settings (yes, some of those controls Danny had asked about). Reducing the traction control to let the car break loose and get really sideways was fun, but not really fast, but at that point my times were slowing down anyway, so why not play?
Feeling mischievous, I lined up the Audi driven by the guy who’d complained at the morning’s drivers meeting, passing him on the outside through turns four and five, sideways and smoking the rear tires for all they were worth. When he looked up just as I drew level with him, the nose of the BMW pointing almost straight at the side of his car, I gave him a little wave hello.
Unfortunately his helmet had a dark visor, so I couldn’t see his expression, but hey. I smiled, anyway.
After another hour or so the tires were completely roasted, so I pulled into the pit.
“We don’t have any fresh tires for the GT3,” Joachim said, scratching his head, Temecula BMW cap in his hand. “I guess you’re gonna have to take the coupe out. Maybe we can swap the old tires back on, but they're pretty well shagged."
“Nah,” I said. “I can be done for the day. It’s been a good weekend. I’ve gotten plenty of track time in.”
“You’re the boss,” he said, waving to the guys to not bother with the tire warmers.
By the time I took a quick shower and changed clothes, the car was already loaded up and the guys were busy packing up all their gear.
Sipping on a Coke, thinking longingly about the beers in the other cooler, I sat back in the folding chair, just letting the warm breeze wash over me.
Maddie came over to say hello after a few minutes. “You’re leaving?” she asked, seeing the guys loading the large canopy they’d used as a workshop.
“Not for a little while,” I said. “Are you planning on driving some more?”
“Um, yeah, until the track goes cold,” she answered, watching the guys at work. “It must be nice, having somebody else do all the packing up. That’s the part I hate.”
“It is nice,” I agreed. “Well worth the money.”
“I was kinda hoping you could, you know, teach me little more,” Maddie said, turning her attention back to me.
“You know, while I was following you, I could see that you’re figuring out what I meant by using the brakes and gas to steer the car. You just need practice, that’s all. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and it’ll start to feel natural.”
“I was really nervous when you suddenly showed up right on my bumper like that,” Maddie said. “But then I realized you wanted to watch me, so I tried to do what you’d said.”
“I could see you’re starting to get the hang of it. Like I said, just keep practicing.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda hard, you know? I think there are only a couple of these open track days here this year, and it’s really hard to get time behind the wheel in a twenty minute session in a normal track day.”
“I hate to recommend, um, breaking the law, but do you do any canyon driving?” I asked.
“I don’t even have my driver’s license yet- I can’t drive on the street!” Maddie said, throwing up her hands in exasperation.
“How old are you?” I asked, surprised.
“I’ll be sixteen the day after Christmas,” she said.
“Huh,” I said. “Well, you’re getting an early start on it, aren’t you?”
“I used to race karts,” Maddie said. “When I was a kid.”
Stifling the urge to point out that she was still a kid, I said, “Well, I’ll tell you what. The guys that run the track have suggested several times that I should rent it out and do my testing in private. If I do that, I’d be perfectly happy for you to come and get all the track time you could want.”
“That’s awesome!” Maddie said, excited by the idea. “Here- let me give you my digits!”
“No,” I said, putting my hand on her phone. “Your mom has to be involved in this discussion. Bring her over here and we can talk about it.”
Pulling a face, Maddie said, “I’m not really sure she’d be O.K. with that,” she said. “I kinda think she doesn’t like the idea that you’re, you know, LBGT.”
“And that’s why she needs to be in this discussion,” I said. “It is absolutely important that she never gets the thought that I’m hitting on you, you know? If we make arrangements behind her back…”
Frowning, Maddie said, “But you’ve like, never even said one thing to me like that!”
“And I’m not going to,” I agreed. “You and I know that, but your mom needs to feel comfortable with that, too.”
Her shoulders slumping, Maddie said, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Alright- I’ll talk to her.” With that, she walked off back to her motorhome to find her mom.