British F1 Gp. Here again but only just. We are Running Richard Styles again.I have no idea what he does for a living, but he is about my age. I'll be really pissed off if his mid-life crisis is to go motor racing.......man have I screwed up. Plus I'll probably be pissed off anyway. I'm so hormonal at the moment I may be pregnant!.... Deadline for entry into the circuit was 2pm Thursday 3rd. I'd built the spare engine up that WASN'T ready to “drop in the hole” because it had been cannibalised so much, swapped the good engine out after the overheating issues it had at Brands Hatch the weekend before. I drove the car up & down our liddle country lane in the rain at 10:30am. The rain had ceased briefly but I was still struggling to test the Mustang up to 7000rpm. Nervous & twitchy at the front, lacking in traction in the rear. But the missfire was gone & the temperature maintained good readings. We quickly loaded & left at 11am. Dan, the company “lad” was to follow me in the camper van. I was in the GOOD red sprinter & was VERY happy to have a CD player again. Dan was to be my speed limiter as the insurance excess for him driving the camper was 5000 pounds. Ah, No- I didn't accidentally add an extra zero. We spent most of our time setting up camp for the camper & mercedes, shifting & shuffling to get a comfy set up. There are two rows of tent like “garages” ready to house the 50 car entry. Beside a gaggle of British & European saloon cars there are 11 other Mustangs to contend with, along with 6 Falcons & a huge Galaxy. Ford's a plenty and not a Chev in sight! There'll be more American muscle than downtown Bagdhad. Hopefully we have more success too. We are the only crew to have a clock & table in our garage. And I'm hopefull that the lovely brown paper “table cloth” & bowl of mandarins will make us stand out from the riff raff. I had time to do some exploring on my bike & got to nosey about a bit. Some of the crews for formula BMW, GP2 & Porsche GT3 support races were doing a track walk, discussing the lines to take & the changes in plot direction in Eastenders. I was really enjoying peddaling flat out on a GP circuit. But it struck me there was a perfectly good 125cc scooter to use- so I detoured back to base, grabbed Dan & took the scooter out for a fang- his terrified rigid body trying to stand the scooter up as I leaned it down into the corners. We fatted down national straight on the club circuit where our pits are. Cranked it over and entered the full GP circuit at Beckets. Blasted down Hangar straight with straight abandon, leaned into Stowe aiming for the late apex. Through Vale the chicane of Club heading for Abbey wishing I had 4 wheels & more power. Or just more power, leathers & a crash helmet would suffice! I was catching a van that I thought was just another one of the maintenance crew that were manicuring the lawns etc. But no, he was some kind of official there to make me leave the circuit... I was so close to being allowed to follow him, he was chuckling & shaking his head, but in the end- “Leave, over there” as he pointed to a gap too small for a scooter. We dragged the scooter under a barrier & rode off laughing at our mere seconds on an international, famous Grand Prix circuit. We passed the 5 heli-terminals waiting for the weekend when Silverstone becomes the busiest Heli-port in the world. Cruised through the B.R.D.C ( British racing drivers club) compound via the back gate to show Dan where people that didn't need to drag scooters under barriers congregated & I instructed him on being a little more discreet & gave him some pointers on some genteel etiquite . “ Golly, just look at the ample bosom on that young Lady” rather than his loudest Cannock accented “ Faarrk wudja lookit the Tits on 'err”. We exited the compound through the security gate with a respectful nod from the guards that obviously have no idea that riff raff can get in. When I cooked dinner for Dan on Friday night I let him taste some of the devine Grana Padano I brought back from Italy nearly 4 weeks ago. It is just beautiful but I thought he was going to cry when it touched his tongue. So it was a trepiditious time preparing the Caprese salad for lunch saturday. It was a totally new experience for him and I'm glad it was only a good Italian fior di latte mozzarella instead of the full Buffala. Anyway, everyone knows I DO NOT SHARE my Buffala!! Plus, Richard tried to tell me that a real Caprese has avocado.....I wasn't about to arm wrestle him for it, but made it quite clear I was right .... he backed down, but wouldn't concede.
By lunchtime Friday we had cleaned everything & re-spanner checked the 'stang. So there was nothing else to do but go shopping. We had a few errands to do for the business which was a good reason to go & fondle a whole lot of Aerospace fasteners & the like. After a wander through the “F1 VILLAGE *t.m” and avoiding looking directly at the eyes of the young chicks selling stuff -For fear of being drawn into owning something I don't know I need with Vodafone or Panasonic Toyota plastered all over it. The conflict that is raging within me- I really don't want to seem like a dirty old man perving at the pit totty half my age in their tight'n'short clothing. But as I touch myself through my mac that really needs a visit to the drycleaners I can't help but feel a little dirty. All in all the village is just another tool aimed at a special subspecies within a subspecies. British F1 fans. Generally not a good ad for the human as a life-form let alone reducing consumerism & carbon footprints. Plus the coffee cost nearly as much as an exotic imported beer in N.Z- AND it was yet more VILE brown liquid that the British public seem content to call coffee and furthermore, drink.
I have been drinking the odd “proper” coffee but it seems that they let just about anybody have a decent machine.Its as bad as allowing any weirdo have kids. But socially could have far more damaging side effects. To make it worse there is no good coffee roastery. What I have discovered is “RocketFuel” a shot of coffee with guarana that you shake & it self heats. Chemicals kept separate in the cups double skinned outer combine to produce the heat. All self contained until you remove the foil top & are greeted by a steaming short black, pre sweetened & ready to boost your flagging eyelids. Lets not talk about the chemicals & plasic cup till after I've finished the 2 trays of 6 & have disposed of the materials in the best possible manner- probably chuck them out the window as I drive the M6 past Birmingham. That seems the norm.
After that very average Brands Hatch meeting -pole position in qualifying in the 3 laps before retiring & fastest lap of the race before retiring on lap 3 we were keen to put in a good show. The whole field had to wait in pit lane halfway through the qualifying session while oil was cleared from the track. It was nice to be the focus of the F1 crews. Nothing like a V8 to bring out the petrol head...I mean enthusiast. And we were in 5th.... Or “P5 “ as we like to call it. Saturday night was the mighty storm. We'd been blessed with a dry qualifying, but within an hour it was blowing a gale & chucking it down. The camper rocking about & rain lashing at the windows. I went to check on the Mustang & decided that my cunning plan to go over it without an audience of spectators & other competitors needed changing. The weather had made it quite unpleasant in the tent. Sunday we'd be up early instead. So we had another beer each, I put another loaf of garlic bread in the oven & started warming our self saucing chocolate pud. An early start would sort it. Check over, Tyre swap & fuel....that should cure the fuel surge symptom.
And indeed it did. The car ran sweetly, if it hadn't been for being pushed off at turn 4 on the first lap we could've had a podium finish. Instead Richard was chasing, chasing. Finally he made it to 7th but wasn't going to make it past Nick Whale in a very wide Mercury Comet. Which he was driving “very wide”. The cause of the panel damage was Jackie Oliver. Ex Shaddow & Lotus F1 driver, GT40 Le Mans winner & he also started Arrows Formula 1 team. He is well respected in this arena. Also well known for forcing his way through little gaps that don't exist. Small man complex perhaps? I was VERY impressed with his denial routine- He almost had me believing him! Richard was so very diplomatic with the 3 or 4 people that didn't give him racing room, he let them all off.His 6 or so years of racing a short time to have become so philosophical about the whole thing. All in all as good as we could've done, with 3rd fastest lap a wee bonus- & at least it wasn't raining. Which is more than I can say for the GP. All day it was torrential. I spent most of it doing brief viewing raids in the rain & then back to the camper to moan. How thoroughly English of me. We ended the day rubbing shoulders with good quality fresh airs & graces in the BRDC “farm”.....It is like a little piece of English countryside in the middle of a race circuit. Kind of a Manor away from Manor. Very pleasant & I felt quite at home laughing at the common people. I even got Dan to sit up straight & throw in the “oh yes, absoloootly, disgaceful – What were they thinking?” So we weren't thrown out. Richards father in law talked his way in with us “un-ticketed, non members”. He is real old school gentleman racer material, & he used to manage James Hunt & has been involved with motor racing his whole life. He seems to know Everyone.
Even me.
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