Final Thoughts on Chump Car Enduro

[Rasta Monsta]

Overall. . .an incredible adventure I will never forget. The first 24 hour enduro in the history of my home track! In a Porsche! With a great group of people! Nothing could be better.

And on a more personal level. . .this event was just what I needed to reaffirm something I had lost sight of in recent years. . .that good friends dedicated to a common goal, and to each other, can accomplish anything.

My Entry to the Team

Earlier this fall, I got a call from a buddy of mine, Eric Schwenter, an ICSCC racer who I have gotten to know pretty well over the last couple of years working with Cascade Sports Car Club and their HPDE program. Eric told me he was getting together drivers for a “Lemons” style car race, and that a beater 944 had been located. Before he finished his sentence, I was in! Hello, SafeRacer.com? What can you tell me about fire suits?

My First Meeting with Chumpy

Shortly thereafter, I met Chumpy, and realized that calling her a beater was a slight to beaters everywhere. Chumpy had not been fired up for 4 or 5 years, and before that, had suffered some serious abuse and poor judgment at the hands of a previous owner. Structurally critical areas of the chassis had been cut open for stereo speakers, the wiring had been hacked to bits, and the car sported a pathetic coat of black primer over its once white body. The kicker. . .the fuel pump feed line (a specially molded Porsche part, relatively cheap at $15) had been replaced by heater hose, which of course had begun sweating fuel.

When I first saw the Chumpster, the carpeting and interior had already been stripped by Eric and Darren Lloyd, our crew chief. There was still plenty of work to be done, though, from a complete timing belt and water pump service, to freeing stuck brake calipers and flushing the varnish from the fuel system. As time ticked down, we realized that we wouldn’t have everything we needed to start Chumpy prior to taking her to the fab shop for her mandatory cage installation, so off she went.

This was our first big gamble of ChumpCar 2009. The 2.5 liter engine found in 944s requires a complex and expensive belt service every three years, and in my experience, many owners of “cheap” 944s put that expense at the bottom of their lists. The result is frequently a broken timing belt, and bent valves. Had Chumpy suffered from this common 2.5 killer? I guess we’d find out after investing in the cage!

The Resurrection

Eric and I rented a shop near his house to work on our own cars (Shaggy is getting an engine refresh, and Eric’s racer is due for major maintenance this winter), and soon Chumpy was nestled into Rennwerks! Once the electrical system was installed (including a safety kill switch, mandatory for racing) we were ready to turn Chumpy over to check for oil pressure. The first sound that came out of Chumpy had everyone present shouting STOP! It was a horrific, squeaking, grinding cacophony. Was it a main bearing? A broken ring gouging Chumpy’s bone dry aluminum cylinders? We paused to oil each cylinder by hand, and tried again. Still that awful sound. . .but we then realized it was coming from the starter, which had spent years immersed in wet grass. A spare was slapped in (I knew there was a reason we chose a car we all owned), and after several anxious minutes, Chumpy’s oil pressure came up.

Plugs installed, fuel pump relay replaced, and it was time to try and fire Chumpy. . .no love. There was no panic, however. . .the Motronic engine management setup used on the 2.5 is simple and robust. We would find the problem.

As Shari and Eric took a drive to the neighborhood pizza joint, Darren and I replaced the crank sensors and tried to fire Chumpy again. . .and she choked to life, after 5 years of sitting in a field! Chumpy’s rear end had already been adorned with a sarcastic checklist, with the entries for “BRAKES” and “CAGE” checked off, and the last entry, “RUNS,” sadly empty. With Darren snapping photos, I checked off that last mocking box, and we waited for our well-earned lunch to be delivered. When Eric and Shari returned, it only took them a few seconds to notice that triumphant “X,” and high fives were all around. The race was only a few days away, but Chumpy was running!

Of course, there were a few other glitches (like an alternator that killed the car when the belt was installed. . .WTF?), but with the hard work of Eric, Don Clinkinbeard, Darren, Shari, and myself, we got everything (mostly) sorted out. Race weekend has arrived, and after 100+ hours of labor by all involved, it was time to load up Chumpy for her trip to the track!

The Scene at PIR

When we rolled in the pro pits to set up, one of the best scenes I have ever witnessed at our track was already well underway. There were many familiar faces. . .track rats from Cascade, as well as Porsche and BMW track day drivers who we knew. The mood was festive, friendly, and exciting. We knew we were making history. . .the first 24 Hour Endurance race in PIR’s near half century of history. We set up Chumpy’s paddock, unloaded her, and began making final preparations for the race. As we worked, costumed characters, young and old, toured the infield. Hilarious halloween decorations covered the people, and the cars, making our group look a bit vanilla by comparison.

As the event progressed, the spirit of what we were all doing pervaded everything. Neighbors helped neighbors, engines were rebuilt in the parking lot, people’s daily drivers were scavenged for parts. . .I felt a bit awkward about robbing Shari’s car for a fuel pump to get Chumpy back on the road, until I saw someone’s Subaru daily driver up on jackstands, gearbox removed!

Chumpy in Battle

My time had finally come to drive. By all reports, Chumpy was running well, handling OK (considering her complete lack of dampening and slight bent unibody), and braking excellently. The mad adrenaline surge I had been expecting was not there. . .I was excited but calm. I have 1000+ laps under my belt at PIR in very similar cars, but none at night, and none in competition. I felt confident in my understanding of racing, and in my ability to handle the car and deal with traffic, but was I being overconfident? After taking a few moments to cut off Chumpy’s front valence after a teammate's "incident," (glad I brought my cutting wheel), I was strapped into Chumpy for my first stint.

I pulled out of the pits, on onto the main straightaway, which for years has been brightly lit for the drag racers. I was the first driver out after the 6-8PM dinner break, so I took it pretty easy. . .our sticky tires were dead cold. I cleared the chicane, and entered the west end complex in heavy traffic. . .and there it was. I was scared ****less. What was I doing? There were cars all around me, and the west end was pitch black. I approached Turn 7 with trepidation. . .it is a tricky area that requires a few seconds of threshold braking and a precise turn-in. Where was the apex? I couldn’t see anything, and had to rely on memory and timing. Just as I turned in, I was torched on the outside by a Nissan Spec-R, with the head of R2D2 protruding from the rear deck. My heart pounding, l made my turn in, and throttled out of 7, kissing the exit curbing with my left rear tire. Somehow I had made the treacherous 7 blind, and would need to do so many more times during the night.

As I became more comfortable with the darkness, my lap times began to drop, and I began executing contested passes on other cars. I outbraked my first victim in Turn 1, finishing him off as he hesitated in dealing with a slower car in front of us. That same lap, more hesitation in the west end, as a line of cars was held up by a slower driver. I floored Chumpy, passing two cars on the inside of Turn 5, and five more on the outside of 6. I was laughing as I radioed Darren in the pits “I JUST PASSED SEVEN CARS!”

The fear was gone. I was doing it. I began to experiment with different techniques and passing areas. At one point, I slid through Turn 7 sideways under power, drifting Chumpy past two cars on the entry. On a lark, I tried a technique I had used in online racing. . .if I couldn’t quite get myself in position to pass, I shoved Chumpy’s nose inside my opponent’s car in one braking zone after another, in an effort to break the other driver’s concentration; to get them watching me instead of their racing line. It worked. . .two cars I badgered in this manner exited corners wide and into the grass!

I finished my first stint a new man. After all that work, all those bloody knuckles and late nights, I had raced a Porsche in my first road race, and I had done it well. Triumph!

[Rasta Monsta]

What the Fog?

My cell phone alarm clock went off at 2:45 AM for my next stint in the darkness. I popped out of my sleeping bag, dressed in my safety gear, and waited my turn. When I rejoined the race, it was more of the same for Chumpy. . .we were having a great time dicing with the other cars. Quite suddenly, I noticed traffic slowing in the west end. I scanned for the yellow lights which would have indicated an incident, and saw none.

At this point, I was fairly comfortable driving around slow moving cars in the tricky west end complex, so I started my usual inside passing on the exit of 5, setting myself up to pass on the outside of 6. . .then I saw it. Fog was rolling onto the track from the golf course. I could see nothing but the car next to me. The right edge of the track, lacking curbing at Turn 6’s exit, blended invisibly into the grass infield. As I approached 7, I couldn’t make out the braking markers on the left side of the track approaching 7. . .markers I had learned to use during my last stint to assist my turn in. Blind again into 7, this time way off line, and needing to exit wide. . .gotta time this right. . .1, 2, 3 TURN! Whew, I guess I still can get my heart beating out here. . .

Subsequent trips through the west end were similar to the last. . .many people crawled cautiously along the racing line, leaving the right side of the 6-7 straight open for passing, with that crazy blind entry to our track’s trickiest turn to follow. I took the risk each lap, and felt lucky accelerating down the back straight each time I made it through. Should I try it again? Would the risk bite me on my next lap? Would I be the next driver to limp back to the paddock, maybe damaged beyond repair? Shortly thereafter, my stint was over, and that decision passed to another driver.

I wished Greg good luck. . .he would need it.

The Finish

The sun had been out for an hour or so when my final stint, and the final stint of the race, began. It was a beautiful fall day, and not a cloud in the sky. Memories of last night’s fog fest seemed like a dream. Was this really the same place?

It was great to get the final drive, but it soon became apparent that the dicing I had so enjoyed earlier in the event was over. Drivers cruised around the course, no longer pushig their cars, and waved Chumpy by whenever she approached. Apparently, the final hour was dominated by thoughts of finishing. . .as was radio traffic into my helmet!

Meh, of course Chumpy will finish! She’s our baby! We saved her from rotting, and delivered her to racing glory! She wouldn’t let us down now, would she?

I charged into Turn 12, braking hard and blipping the throttle for my downshift into third, my eye on the car in front of me, wanting to be sure I stayed close for my next Turn 1 pass. The shifter went slack in my hand. . .nothing there. I called the pits, and told them to get ready to raise the rear of the car, and that we would need a 13mm socket to retighten the rear portion of the shift linkage. My momentum carried me into the chicane, where I slipped into a gap in the wall to protect myself from getting rear ended. The Cascade safety truck was there quickly, and I was soon back in the paddock, with 20 minutes left, and my teammates under the car struggling to work on the hot gearbox.

Got it! Back out on track, traffic seeming even slower. . .”racing” is definitely over. It’s time for the final parade laps of Chump Car 2009. Chumpy rolls across start finish under the checker, and the hot pit wall is lined with cheering spectators, drivers, and crew. A great moment for me and all the competitors. . .history has just been made.

After Chumpy had returned to the pits, the high fives given, the photos taken, I look back at her. During the race, her radiator had developed two small leaks, and there were two small puddles under her front bumper. After years of neglect, and the prospect of a certain death in that muddy field, Chumpy had been brought back to life, and raced in a historic event.

Were those tears of joy?

[Sterling Doc]

Great story, and well written!

A buddy of mine recently pulled a 944 out of a field for $300 to do this or Lemons.
Leaning towards Chumpcar, as no risk of having the car crushed!

This gives me more hope that my fully prepped 944 Spec car will survive the 9 hour enduro at Road Atlanta in a couple of weeks.

[porsche4life]

Looks like ChumpCar runs at my home track... Hallet... Time to find a car....

[Rasta Monsta]

Word to the wise. . .a $500 Porsche is way crappier than a $500 Civic!

[porsche4life]

True... But the guys I can think of for a team are all very familiar with the business end of a 944...

[944Spec_bound]

good post...the beginning reminded me of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

[Dave L]

nicely written, It sounds like you had an absolute blast!