Nürburgring Dream

Nürburgring Dream: Prologue

As I stood there beside the Kinkade RX8 looking over the pit road of the world renowned Nürburgring I could hardly believe the strange turns of fate that had landed me here. In a mere 3 days the Festival would officially start and I was going to be racing the Ring for real. Six months earlier it had looked like I might never race again, ANYWHERE.

A booming voice startled me out of my reverie. “So what do you think of it?” It could only be Sam Kinkade himself, the man responsible for this dream opportunity.

“The car?” I asked.

“The track!” he snorted.

“It’s everything I expected, and nothing like I expected. It feels like I’m standing on Holy Ground.”

“You are,” he replied. “It never gets old. You ready to make some laps?”

“You’re damn right I am.”

“You two get acquainted. I’ll talk to you when you get back.”


As I pulled out of the pits I took a look in the mirror to be sure there were no cars coming and proceeded to swerve back and forth a few times to clean and warm the tires. This was my first time in the Kinkade RX8 and I planned to take it easy until I got the feel of it.



Turn by turn I picked up speed. The car was willing and responsive, seemingly anxious to run. I held it back for another few turns until I was sure the engine, transmission, and differential were up to temperature. By the time I reached Hocheichen I was ready to turn her loose.

The growl of the 2-rotor Wankel turned to a scream as it revved past eight thousand rpm. As I swept through Flugplatz the car was balanced and grippy. I debated with myself about how fast to take Schwedenkreuz. Discretion is the better part of valor I decided.

Over the top and hard on the brakes for Aremberg. The brakes bit hard and the racing tires clawed the pavement as I hauled down from 260 to less than 100. A bit of understeer as I turned in. But rotated nicely in the center and pulled strongly on exit.

The car and I became a single entity as we negotiated the course. As I completed the lap I felt confident enough to explore the limits of the car. Turn by turn we tested ourselves against the famous Green Hell. As I passed Galgenkopf I was already planning what adjustments I would make.

I was now certain that a slight stiffening of the rear dampers was in order, and maybe a bump up in the rear swaybar…

As the speedometer climbed past 260 the engine was just reaching it’s horsepower peak. I was getting ready to tap the brakes when suddenly the power dropped. It wasn’t dramatic but it was enough to get my attention. I eased off the throttle, silently hoping it wasn’t something serious.

But as the rpms dropped below four thousand a sickening grinding noise started. I was now certain it was something serious. I pushed in the clutch and the engine shuddered to a stop. Now with no power steering or power brakes I eased onto the brakes.

What I didn’t know was that the engine had dumped oil onto the rear tires and the car snapped around, spinning onto the shoulder and bouncing off the guardrail. First the rear, then the front kissed the barrier. The car ground to a halt in a cloud of radiator steam.



As I unbuckled myself I saw the black smoke starting to mix with the steam. The oil had coated the catalytic converter and was now on fire.


The car was a total loss. As quickly as my fortunes had turned from bad to good, they had turned from good to bad. To worse.

Kinkade had not even spoken to me as the car was towed back to the paddock. Maybe he blamed me for the loss. Maybe he was just disappointed and didn’t want to talk.

As I walked through the garage I cursed to myself. This was so typical of my luck. There was no way I’d get another serious ride after this. And of course there was the small matter of my being blackballed in the international racing community…

I didn’t even see the man leaning against the garage until he spoke. “Aren’t you James Wilson?” His accent was upper-class british.

I stopped and looked at the man. Mediteranian looking. 60ish. Nice suit. I had no idea who he might be.

“Most people call me Jim,” I said. “And you are…?”

“Oh, I’m just a race fan,” he said. “I understand you’ve had a bit of bad luck.”

“You could say that,” I replied. I couldn’t tell if the man had something in mind, or was just trying to make conversation.

Either way I was not in a mood for conversation. I just wanted to get out of this place and put it behind me.

The man continued before I could excuse myself. “Kind of like six months ago at Sonoma. What caused that accident?”

I was beginning to get a little peeved with this man. Who did he think he was bringing that up, here and now, with everything else that had happened?

“I did,” I snapped.

The man raised his eyebrow slightly. “Really? You don’t blame Crosley? He blames you…”

“Well either one of us could have backed off and the wreck wouldn’t have happened. But my fault as much as his.” I wasn’t even sure why I was talking to this man. But he seemed genuinely interested in hearing my side of the story.

“Are you some kind of reporter or something?” I asked.

“Oh no,” he said. “Just a race fan. I saw that race and it was pretty obvious that Crosley didn’t need to make that pass. He was ten seconds ahead of Sanderson.”

“Well,” I answered, “The rules say that lap traffic must yield, and I didn’t yield. It was the last lap and I needed to get by Myers. I needed the points. I saw Crosley coming but I didn’t think he’d stick his nose in when we were already two wide. The officials called it a racing incident. No penalties were issued, as I’m sure you know.”

“But still you lost your ride,” the man observed.

“Crosley has a lot of pull,” I said.

“That is putting it mildly,” the man replied.

I was just about to continue on my way when he waved his hand, stopping me. “Say, can I show you something? Get your opinion on something? As a race driver?”

I wanted to say no. To say I had someplace I needed to be. But that was a lie. I didn’t have anyplace to be. I didn’t even really know where I would go.

But my curiousity got the better of me. “I suppose,” I said.

The man took off down the line of garages. After passing six or seven garages he stopped. He rolled up the door of the garage, revealing a dark green Lotus 111R.

“Nice,” I said.

“I love the color,” the man said. “It’s so British.” He chuckled. “Didn’t you drive a green car back in ARCA?”

I turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. “You certainly know a lot about me, Mister…?”

“Farelli,” he replied. “Marco Farelli.”

My eyes widened a bit. “Farelli, as in the Farelli brothers?”

“They’re my cousins,” he said. “What do you think?” he continued. “In your opinion as a race driver, does this car have a shot at the Tuner’s Trophy?”

“Who’s going to drive it?” I asked.

“I will,” he stated.

Turning back to the car I said, “How much power?”

“A little over two twenty on the chassis dyno,” he said. “Let’s say two seventy five at the flywheel.”

“Stock weight?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Tips the scales at eight hundred thirty four kilos.”

I did some quick math in my head (which meant there was at least an even chance I had it wrong). “That comes to about 330 horsepower per tonne. We can be sure the Audi is over five hundred horsepower. At thirteen hundred kilos that’s say… almost four hundred horsepower per tonne. And it’s got the chassis to take advantage of it.”

In fact, there was more than one entrant in the Tuner’s Trophy race that had lodged complaints that the R8 LMS was in fact a race car, and therefore should be disqualified. The Audi people had obviously pulled some strings to get the car in the race.

I turned to look at him. “I’d say you might have a shot at second. If it’s set up right. At least you won’t embarrass yourself. You won’t beat that Audi. Unless…”

“Go on,” he said.

“Unless you can make up the difference in tire wear and fuel consumption. But that’s a long shot at best.”

Again the man nodded. I had the distinct impression I was being tested. “And would you mind taking it for a few laps and help me set it up? I have a good mechanic, but he needs better feedback than what I can give him.”

“You want me to drive this car after I caused that wreck in Sonoma, and then blew up the Kinkade?”

He shrugged. “The first one wasn’t completely your fault, and the second one none of your doing at all.”

“OK,” I said. “I’ll admit I’m interested, and it’s not like I have anything else going on right now.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll speak to my cousins and see if we can get your blackball lifted.”

I frowned. “You’re going to do that because I’m going to test your car for you?”

“No,” he said. “I’m doing it because Crosley is an ass.”


An hour later I was strapped into the Lotus. The starter whined for a second and the engine snarled to life.

A quick runthrough of the controls and I was ready to take it out. When I snapped it into gear it was immediately obvious that the clutch was not the stock unit. At least I didn’t think the stock Lotus clutch would be quite that stiff or engage quite that positively… When I stepped on the gas the electronic throttle responded very sharply. Again, not stock I suspected.

As I pulled onto the track I did my habitual weave to clean the tires and headed off into the Arena. The transmission was a straight-cut unit, making a distinctive whine.

I was impressed with the handling of the car. I had expected it to be twitchy, but it was stable. Most impressive was the drive off the corners. You could bury the throttle with almost zero wheelspin coming out of almost every corner.

Corner entry was a bit trickier. It was, after all, a Lotus. But still more controlled than any other Lotus I’d driven.

I was more impressed with each corner.

The only time it exhibitted any bad behavior was under hard braking, when the rear would become light and threaten to lock up. A brake bias adjustment should take care of that.

I did two laps and brought it back in.

Marco Farelli was sitting on a folding chair in the garage, chatting with his mechanic.

As I was getting out of the car he handed me a clipboard. “If I could impose… We’ve jotted down a few questions here. This will really help us in getting the car dialed in.”

I looked over the list. It was more than just a few questions. It was a very thorough debriefing that took me longer to fill out than it had taken me to run the laps. As soon as I handed it back to Farelli, he passed it to the mechanic. “This is my lead mechanic Dreyfus,” he said. Dreyfus began poring over the responses, muttering to himself.

Farelli stuck out his hand. “Thank you so much Mr. Wilson. I’m sure he will spend hours going over that.”

“It was my pleasure,” I said. “The car is brilliant, to borrow a term from the Brits.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “We’re quite proud of it. Will you be staying for the race?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh please do. I’d like you to be my guest. I have a rather nice suite. All the comforts you know.”

“Well, I…”

“It’s settled then. Come ‘round my suite at seven. And thanks again.” Farelli walked over to speak with the mechanic.

I took a walk through the paddock. When I passed by Kinkade’s garage I saw it was empty. I felt bad for him. He had put a year of his life and a great deal of his own money into the RX-8. But that’s the risk you run when you play the tuner game.

His car would be easier to rebuild than my career. I hoped Farelli was good to his word. Somehow I thought he would be. He struck me as the sort of man that does business with a handshake. The kind of man that unfortunately was few and far between these days.


The next day found me back in Farelli’s garage helping him prep the car for the final practice. The mechanic had made a few adjustments based on my feedback. Just a little here and there to strike what we hoped would be the perfect balance for the Green Hell.

Farelli took the car out as soon as the track opened. Thirty minutes later he was back.

As he got out I could see he was frowning. “Something wrong?” I asked.

“I can’t seem to get the right rhythm. I’m either braking too soon or turning in too late every corner. I can barely crack nine minutes. I know the car can do better. Yesterday you ran eight forty.”

“You just need some laps to get used to the car and track,” I said. I knew he didn’t have the time to do that, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“Those arrogant Germans are acting like they have the trophy already won, and the part that buggers me the most is that they’re right. None of the other cars have shown the speed to run with the Audi.” Farelli was pacing as he spoke.

“You ran the fastest lap of anybody besides the Audi, and I can’t get close to your time.” He stopped and looked me in the eye. “Now you’ve driven it, do you think this car has any chance of beating the Audi, car to car, not taking my poor driving into account?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “There are some variables we don’t know yet. We don’t know how his tires will wear, or how much fuel he’ll use. If he can get five good laps out of his tires then no. But if he has to pit after four laps, or if he does five but he has to slow down because of his tires wearing out… Then maybe.”

His eyes narrowed. “But with me driving, definitely not.” It wasn’t a question. He was simply stating the obvious.

“In that case Mr. Wilson I wish to hire you to drive my car tomorrow.”

Nürburgring Dream: Race Day

It was partly cloudy, calm, and 78 degrees (as we Americans measure temperature). An absolutely perfect day for a race. I had actually been hoping it would rain. The Audi’s advantage would be less in the wet.

Well you play the cards you’re dealt, and I was confident that the car could run a strong second. ‘Yeah but who wants to run second,’ I thought.

I was in the garage early. As I looked around I saw a lot of mechanics and crew members but it looked like I was the only driver. But Farelli was there already, in deep consultation with his lead mechanic.

When I walked into the garage he waved me over. “Wilson, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” I asked.

“Dreyfus seems to think we should run on hard compound tires. He thinks we can do the race on only four stops. Even though you’ll be a bit slower he calculates we can save half a minute.”

I thought about it. I had only run 2 laps with the car, and those laps were on medium compound tires. But the car was so light that it probably wouldn’t make that much difference in the handling. “Well I’m game for anything that cuts into that Audi’s advantage.”

“I’ll have the hard tires mounted up,” said Dreyfus.

“But have some mediums mounted and ready, just in case,” I said.

Dreyfus pointed across the garage. “Two sets all ready to go.”

“How did you sleep?” asked Farelli.

“I managed to get a few hours,” I said.

“Yes I know the feeling,” said Farelli.

We stood there looking across the paddock. I caught sight of Ignacio Alvarez, the man who would be driving the Audi.

“I wonder how they got Alvarez to drive the Audi,” I said.

“I hear he owed them a favor,” replied Farelli.

I scowled. “Well I’d feel better if that car wasn’t being driven by a Le Mans winner…”

“Yes the man is annoyingly competent,” remarked Farelli. After a few seconds he spoke again. “Wilson, I know his car is faster. But I feel you’re every bit the driver he is. I make it my business to know who can and who can’t drive.

“He is overconfident and the fact that he comes into this believing it’s over before it starts may be his undoing. Take every advantage you can get. Don’t leave anything on the table, as you Americans say.”

Alvarez was walking through the garage chatting with people here and there. As he passed their garage he stopped. “Weelson! Ees gude to see you.” I tried to hide my surprise that he recognized me. I had briefly met him 2 years earlier when we were running in different events at the same track.

“Good to see you too Alvarez,” I took his offered hand.

“Gude luck een the race,” Alvarez said.

“And good luck to you too,” I replied. “Although I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Alvarez laughed. “See you at the feenish line.”

“I certainly hope so,” I said.

Alvarez continued on his meet and greet tour of the paddock.

“Let’s go over that checklist again,” said Dreyfus.

“Right,” I said.

Two hours later I was pulling out onto the track. I surprised myself by how calm I was. Perhaps it’s the calm of the condemned man who is at peace with his fate, I thought. No, more like the calm of a soldier about to hit the beach, knowing that the time for worry was past, and now was the time to act.

There were 12 cars in the race. The starting order was decided by lottery, and I was starting 7th. Unfortunately Alvarez was starting 2nd, with a clear track ahead when the green flag dropped. I’d have to get past the other cars as quickly as possible or the Audi would be gone for good.

***This is a race report of the 4 hour Nürburgring endurance event. The events leading up to the race are obviously fictional and certain color elements of the race itself have been embellished. But the hard details such as the cars, tires used, and lap times, and finishing result are true.***

Just after I passed the pit entrance the lights turned green. I pushed the throttle to the floor but every single car ahead of me pulled away. I moved right to position myself for turn one, with the Yellow Bird coming up fast on my left. I barely managing to hold 7th position to the braking point.



By braking late into one I am able to take the inside position, forcing the Mine's to take the outside line. But I can't get by him, so I exit turn one in still in 7th position.

Continuing through the Arena I use the superior braking of the Lotus to take the Mine’s on the outside. I am now 6th.

Using my momentum I continue on the outside, overtaking both the Gran Turismo Skyline and the Morrison Corvette.

Heading to RTL I'm a little over a second behind the 3rd place CT230R. The CTR-2 is ahead of him, but the Audi is already gone.

Exitting Bit I am right behind the red car, but he pulls away a bit through Haztenbach, where horsepower is king.

I close back up to him through Veedol and manage to position myself to outbrake him turning onto the Nordschleife.



Two seconds ahead is the bright blue CTR-2.

I sliced through Haztenbach, closing on him until I’m right on his bumper through Hocheichen.

I made my move on the RUF in Flugplatz. He left room on the left so with a little help from the draft I pulled alongside. Maybe he wasn’t expecting this move as he swerved to the right when he caught sight of me in his peripheral vision, dipping his right tires off course. It was a tense moment as he swerved back on track behind me.

Now I had nothing but clear track between me and the Audi. Unfortunately it was quite a bit of track. I hadn’t seen him since the start and I knew he was taking good advantage of clear track, fresh tires, and 350 extra horsepower.

I lost sight of the CTR in my rear view after Fuchsröhre, leaving me alone with the track and my thoughts. I didn’t push the car too much. It was a long race and we were trying to stretch the tires.

I crossed the line in 8’55. Farelli informed me that the Audi was 24 seconds ahead. Not as bad as I was afraid, but still worse than I hoped.

The 2nd lap passed uneventfully as well, with me turning in an 8’44 and falling to 42 seconds behind.

On lap 3 I could tell the tires were wearing. My lap time fell to 8’48 and the gap to first was 59 seconds.

Starting on lap 4, feeling I had nothing to lose, I pushed it a little bit despite the worn tires. I knew there was no way I could win this thing losing almost 20 seconds a lap to the Audi, even if I made one less stop. I crossed the line at 8’49 and Farelli informed me I had only lost 12 seconds that lap, which still left me 1’12 behind.

For lap 5 I had to ease off. The tires were just too worn to keep up the pace. As I came down Döttinger Höhe the radio crackled. “You’re less than a minute behind. His tires are gone.”

But it wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t going to make a 6th lap as we hoped, and on the same pit sequence as him, I was too slow to catch him on the hard tires.

Making an executive decision, I keyed the radio. “I’m coming in. Put on medium tires. Put on medium tires.”

“Got it. Medium tires,” came the reply.

“And give me whatever fuel you can while you change tires. But don’t hold me for fuel.”

“OK, minimum fuel.”

I dove into the pits and hauled it down to the pit speed limit. As I came up to my pit I could see Alvarez sitting in his pit right in front of mine. It was the first time I’d seen him since the race started.

I crossed the line before my pit box and I was informed that my lap had been 8’52, including pit entry.

They had already changed his tires and were still refueling him when I entered my pit box. The tire change went smoothly and the Audi pulled out only a couple of seconds before they dropped my jacks.

I pulled out of the pits to start lap 6 less than 4 seconds behind the Audi. I was surprised that his pit stop took so long.

“We gave you fifteen liters,” said the voice in my ear.

I managed to keep the Audi in sight until he turned onto the Nordschleife. And then I was alone again. It was a clean lap and I crossed the line in 9’03, 14 seconds back. That meant I had only lost 10 seconds to him that lap. Maybe there was hope after all…

On lap 7 I was again running alone when I missed my braking point for Pflanzgarten, resulting in four tires off course. Fortunately I kept it pointed in the proper direction and lost no more than a second or two.

I finished the lap 8’38, 21 seconds back. I only lost 7 seconds, despite the off. But who knows, maybe the Audi caught lap traffic.

On lap eight I ran an 8’37.4, my best yet. I was 30 seconds behind. Alvarez had a good lap too, running around 8’28.

He was still pulling away but not nearly as much as he had been when I was on hard tires. Quick math told me I might be able to do this if the Audi’s lap 10, 15, and 20 were as bad as his lap 5. At the pace we were running it would be a 28 lap race, so we would both split the final 8 laps into 4 lap segments so unfortunately (for me) he wouldn’t have to suffer with worn tires on lap 25.

On lap 9 I ran 8’38, losing only 2 seconds to the Audi. Perhaps he had pushed it too hard on this stint, using up his tires too fast.

But on lap 10 I misjudged my own tires, and coming over Schwedenkreuz I carried too much speed. When the suspension unloaded the rear started to come around. The only way to save it was to stab the throttle and steer into it, which caught the rear but had me braking thirty feet too late for Aremberg. I watched helplessly as the gravel trap rushed up to greet me.

I was able to keep it moving so it didn’t get stuck but I lost several seconds before I got back on course. I was cursing myself for the rest of the lap.

But then I thought I saw the Audi’s tail lights on Döttinger Höhe, and I felt a little better.

My tires were toast, and I was glad to see the pit entrance. Fresh tires are an awesome feeling.

Alvarez was just coming down off the jacks when I pulled into my stall. My lap time was 8’56 including my off and pit entry. His lap must have been horrible.

I got 4 fresh medium tires and 40 liters of fuel and still left the pits 14 seconds ahead of the Audi. He must be drinking fuel like a fire hose.

Beginning lap 11, now leading the race for the first time. It was a damn good feeling, even if I knew it wouldn’t last.

I did my best to minimize his gain, but obviously Alvarez didn’t like running second. Four minutes later I caught sight of his headlights in Kesselchen. As I was leaving the Karussel I saw him entering it. At Eschbach he went by me.

As he passed me I saw that we were coming up to lap the Morrison Corvette. Alvarez passed him at Schwalbenschwanz and I nipped him entering Kleines Karussel.

The Audi was maybe 2 seconds ahead coming onto Döttinger Höhe, but all I could do was watch him pull away to a 5 second lead by the finish line. I completed my lap in 9’32.

Lap 12 came and went with no fuss. I lapped the 350RS at Galgenkopf, with him following in my draft down Döttinger Höhe. My lap time 8’38, 15 seconds behind Alvarez.

Lap 13 was a good clean lap until Galgenkopf, when I clipped the inside curb on entry, sending the rear sliding. ‘Damn’, I thought, ‘There’s two seconds at least’. Finishing the lap in 8’41, I lost another 10 seconds, falling 25 seconds behind.

On lap 14 I was just trying to stay on pace and run off the miles to the next stop. A few seconds past the 2 hour mark I caught Gran Turismo Skyline in the Karussel, passing him on the outside. Not the recommended technique but in this case it worked. Unfortunately the lap didn’t end as well as it began.

Braking through Hohenrain the rear got light and when I made the hard right the rear kept turning, resulting in a neat little half-loop. Damn and Double-Damn! This was not the way to win a race!

Stabbing it into first gear I flipped it around and headed down the pit straight, finishing my lap in 8’50, and losing another 14 seconds to the Audi.

Tiptoeing through lap 15 I still managed to close to within a few seconds of Alvarez before we pitted. My lap was 8’46.

Taking fresh medium rubber and 20 liters of fuel I was away well ahead of the Audi. He left the pits 28 seconds behind me.

I had a strong run on lap 16, completing my first full lap in the lead. I finished in 9’09, 15 seconds ahead.

On lap 17 I had another strong lap, with something of a heart attack at Dreifach Rechts. I caught the Yellow Bird just as he entered the curve, but he dipped his left sides off course and spun back onto the track right in front of me. All I could do was drive straight into the smoke and pray.

I missed the spinning RUF by about a foot. The Yellow Bird is a brilliant car when driven by a brilliant driver. In the hands of a merely good driver it’s a menace…

I caught sight of the Audi’s headlights on Döttinger Höhe. It seemed my time at the front was almost at an end. I finished in 8’38, 5 seconds up on Alvarez.

I laid it all on the table for lap 18. I was going to make him work to get by me. Somehow I managed to stay a few seconds ahead all the way to Hohenrain. Pulling onto the pit straight he came by me, hitting the line 0.4 seconds ahead of me. My lap was 8’36.5.

Diving into the Arena at the beginning of lap 19 I was glued to his bumper. Staying ahead of him as long as I did lit a fire in me and I wasn’t content to watch him drive away again.

Through the Ford curves I stayed with him. He pulled a few car lengths ahead going into Dunlop but my superior braking brought me back to him. He didn’t get a good drive off of Dunlop and was slightly off line through Schumacher, allowing me to keep him in touch.

Again I closed the gap through Kumho and Bit. By staying in his draft I managed to keep pace through Haztenbach. Throwing caution to the wind I threw the Lotus into Veedol at breakneck speed. Bouncing across the curbs I somehow managed to hold on to it and emerged on the other side with enough momentum to take him on the inside turning onto the Nordschleife.

I could scarcely believe it! I had passed the mighty Audi on the track! Of course I didn’t expect Alvarez to stand for this. I looked for him to nip me back at Quiddelbach.



That didn’t happen. Alvarez seemed content to ride behind. We lapped a white Mine’s uneventfully at the Karussel. And then we came up on 3 lap cars running together at Eiskurve. They were all battling for position so this could turn out to be tricky… I followed for a short way with Alvarez close behind.

Something had to give so Alvarez decided to make a move on my left. We went 2 wide through Pflanzgarten. But I saw my opening as the G37 moved to the left. I dived to his right side, leaving Alvarez stuck behind him. The silver Fairlady Z wasn’t giving me any room, so I put my right side tires in the grass and shoved it in. He jinked to the left and I outbraked the second white Mine’s (teammate of the one lapped a minute earlier) going into Kleines Karussel.

I was clear of the lap cars and hit Döttinger Höhe with my foot down. The Mine’s was tucked into my draft. In my rear view I saw the Audi break free of the Fairlady well behind me. He closed the gap with his ridiculous top speed but still crossed the line 4 seconds behind me, with the Mines between us. My lap was 8’42.

Now starting lap 20 I had the lead and Alvarez was out of tires. I was confident he couldn’t challenge me until he got fresh rubber.

I pulled away from the Mine’s through the GP course. In my rear view I just saw Alvarez move by the Mine’s in Haztenbach as I was entering Veedol.

I caught up to the CT230R coming onto Döttinger, drafting him for a short distance and then moving by him.

I didn’t see the Audi again until he was entering the pits as I was leaving after taking tires and 20 liters of fuel. My lap was 8’45, and he left the pits 1’30 behind me.

I pulled back on the track right behind one of the Mine’s, and just in front of the silver Z and the other Mine’s. I passed the Mine’s in the Arena.

So as I began the 21st lap I felt confident I had enough advantage to hold on and win the race! Of course I immediately began thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Race drivers have very vivid imaginations when they’re leading near the end of a race.

The rest of lap 21 passed without fuss. I finished in 9’15, 1’20 ahead of the Audi.

Beginning lap 22 I could see the CT230R up ahead. Somewhere in the cycle of stops he either got back by me, or fell so far back that I was lapping him again.

I caught up to him in Flugplatz, but decided to wait until after Aremberg to go by. Passing over Schwedenkreuz would be unjustifiably risky. Unfortunately as we were coming up to the crest the CT230R braked unexpectedly. I jammed the brakes in a futile effort to avoid hitting him.

The anti-lock shuddered violently and the rear danced on the edge of lockup as I kissed the rear bumper of the red car. The contact wasn’t hard, but was enough to take me over the edge of control. I found myself spinning onto the shoulder, bounced over the curb and landed in the very same sand trap that had snagged me earlier in the race.

By some unforseen miracle I was able to keep the car in motion so I didn’t get stuck but as I pulled back on course I felt a vibration and the steering was pulling to the left. Neither the vibration nor the pull was horrible but it certainly made the possibility of winning seem less likely.

I caught back up to the CT230R and passed him without incident at Kallenhard.

The car the vibration seemed to recede a little. Maybe it was just gravel in the wheels. The pull didn’t seem to hamper the handling, so I wasn’t done yet.

I finished the lap in 8’51, 49 seconds ahead.

On lap 23 the vibration comes back. Obviously it wasn’t gravel. I definitely flat-spotted my tires, and maybe bent a wheel. I made the call to pit for new tires a lap early. It would mean I had to run 5 on the last stint but that was better than having a flat, or worse, a broken wheel.

As I drove down Döttinger I keyed the radio and broke the news. “I’m coming in. I need tires and thirty liters of fuel.”

Farelli’s voice responded, “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think I bent a wheel. I’m coming in.”

“Roger. Tires and fuel this lap.”

As I rolled down pit road there was a bit of a commotion in my pit box. They were just bringing out the tires, which I found odd since they had almost a minute to get the tires in position after I called them.

My lap was 8’43.

As the car came up on the jacks I got some bad news in return. “You’re getting hard tires Jim. One of the mediums had a leak and we didn’t have any other mediums mounted.”

I cut loose with an impressive string of obsenities. But at least I didn’t key the radio so I was pretty much swearing to myself.

There could be no doubt. I was cursed as a race driver. There was no way I could run 5 more laps on hard tires and keep Alvarez behind me, even though he still had to pit. He would pit next lap and doubtless run 4 flawless laps.

I was starting to wonder why it was taking so long for fueling when the crew waved me out. “How much fuel did I get?” I asked.

“Forty liters,” came the reply.

Damn, damn, DAMN! I said 30 liters! But no use making a stink about it now. It wouldn’t make any difference.

I came out of the pits just as Alvarez went by, call it 3 seconds. And I knew he would increase that gap easily with me running hard tires. I was still going to run as hard as I could. Fate is a fickle mistress and it wasn’t over until the checkered flag waved.

I had some lap traffic to deal with of course. I relapped the RGT at Hocheichen, and the CT230R at Brünnchen, this time getting by without incident.

As I was coming down Döttinger Höhe my radio crackled. “Alvarez couldn’t fit!” At least that’s what it sounded like…

“What?” I barked back.

“Alvarez didn’t pit!”

Alvarez didn’t pit? He stayed out on old tires? Suddenly everything was different. I was back in the game. He would have a lousy lap, but would it be enough?

I finished my lap in 9’33, 19 seconds behind the Audi.

It was time to get up on the wheel and win this race!

I tried to strike a balance between aggressive and conservative. I knew I would blow any chance with an off.

I caught up to Alvarez at Kleines Karussel. He made no effort to block me, and I went by and pulled away to a 9 second lead by the end of the lap. My lap was 8’50.

At the end of lap 25 Alvarez went into the pits.

When he came out I was 1’16 ahead. Definitely not a safe margin, considering how fast the Audi was on fresh rubber.

I finished lap 26 52 seconds ahead. I forced myself to remain calm. This was still a winnable race. My lap was 8'54.

On lap 27 I ran 8'53. By the end of the lap I was down to 38 seconds lead, and my tires were definitely showing the wear.

I could feel my heart in my throat as I danced on the edge of control every corner. I could almost feel the hot breath of that Audi on my neck.

It was all or nothing now. As we Americans say, I was leaving nothing on the table. I couldn’t resist stealing glances at the rear view, dreading the sight of those sinister headlights.

But they weren’t there. I pulled onto Döttinger still holding the lead, but I wasn’t sure by how much. About halfway down I caught sight of the Audi. He was a good way behind, so all I had to do was make no mistakes and it was mine.

He closed the gap but as I braked into Hohenrain it was all over. I sailed across the finish line in 8'51, 5.6 seconds ahead.

If you have actual facts and figures I'm sure Famine might be interested in putting them on the '4hours Nurburgring Companion' thread.

^ Well, it's kind of a (good) fanfic as well, so maybe it might deserve its own thread.

shem

If you have actual facts and figures I'm sure Famine might be interested in putting them on the '4hours Nurburgring Companion' thread.

Click to expand...

I'll cross link it there.

I added illustrations to the story.

Great story! Enjoyed it a lot! 👍

Is that the end?

Anything that happens after the finish line is anticlimax.

But you never know, there could be a rematch.