Rabbit6
02-07-2002, 10:51 PM
A couple summers ago, I attended an autocross event held by the Toronto Chinese Motorsport Club. They hosted it in an IKEA parking lot. It was pretty cool. Two slalom courses, mirror image of eachother, side by side. Two cars lined up, and were off... It consisted of a short straightaway, followed by a chicane, a short slalom into a 180. Next was a loose slalom, a very tight chicane, and a short sprint to the stop box. The rules were simple. Knock over a cone, or push it from it's location, and you're disqualified. First one to the stop box clean won. Everyone had two races to determine starting positions based on time. Then, competitors were lined up fastest to slowest for track 'A', and slowest to fastest for track 'B'. This ensured a quick elimination of the slow competitors. The day progressed, and the faster guys and I were busy dusting off the slow cars. My rabbit is well set up for this kind of racing, and things were going good. As the slow cars were eliminated, each race became more and more challenging. At one point, a suprisingly nimble 5.0L mustang lined up against a first Gen toyota MR2. This MR2 was the old supercharged version, which was further boosted by the addition of a turbo. (no kidding, saw it with my own eyes) Anyway, when the MR2 and mustang lined up, the MR2 driver hops out and opens his hood (or trunk, or whatever) and twiddles something, then gets back in. Then he proceeds to make a mockery of the 5L. A few more races take place, and i see my nemesis, a done miata eliminating cars like mad. He beat me by by an inch in the preveious event, a month earlier. As it turns out, it all comes down to him and me. We lined up and the starter marshall's arms drop. A good launch, I rocket out of the start box. Flying through the cones, tires squealing, I blasted out of the last chicane and screeched to a halt in the stop box... Clean! Turns out I beat him by a couple car-lengths this time. Wow! I burned outta the stop box with a big grin on my face. I'd just won the whole event! People started shouting and pointing... I looked in that direction... Oops.. a minor miscalculation. I somehow missed the fact that this race had been for third place, not first. There, waiting in a mean looking, hunkered down stance was that nasty MR2... Oh shit. My stomach balled up and my blood thumped in my head. The MR2 driver sneered, and waved me over like to say, 'Not done yet, hotshot!' I felt like a kicked puppy, as i idled over to the start line, with my tail between my legs... This guy just sodomized that mustang. I lined up... The starter marshall lifted his arms and threw them down. We were off! I managed to zip through the cones pretty good. Everytime i glanced sideways, the MR2 was right beside me. Faster on the short straights, but a tad slower in the cones. I flew down the back slalom, dodged through the last chicane and plowed into the stop box... knocking down the center cone. Goddammit!!!! what a f*cking disappointment. I looked way over to his stop box. He'd taken out a cone as well. Rematch. I met him at the start box. Again, the marshall staged us. the revving MR2 sounded weird, awesome and terrifying all at once. I managed to hold a steady 3 grand for the launch, suprising, considering how i was shaking from adrenaline. His arms fell and i popped the clutch. FUCK! a terrible launch. Someday i'll have to get therapy to control the nervous jitters when the shit his the fan. The MR2 lept ahead. I met and carved through the first chicane better than i had the whole day. Even again. Through the short slalom i pulled ahead, the 180, ahead. the back slalom, he caught up and pulled ahead. I erupted out of the last chicane and stopped less than an inch from the center cone in the stop box. I closed my eyes, everything was silent. My engine had stalled in that stop. I could hear my breath echoing, it felt like i was underwater, like in slow motion. I slowly turned my head left. My gaze floated over a still crowd of spectators and other drivers. No one was shouting, or even talking. It was totally silent. I looked at the MR2 sitting perfect in a unmolested box of cones. The two stop box marshalls walked to the starter and spoke briefly. After what seemed like an agreement, they left, and the starter marshall raised his arms. He looked at me, he looked at the MR2. Shaking his head and grinning, he dropped his left arm and pointed his right arm at me. 'The rabbit wins!' he shouted... I started laughing hysterically. I can't take that much excitment. The crowd literally went nuts. Cheering and shouting and jumping up and down like a pack of monkeys... I took off my sweat drenched helmet and restarted. There were no prizes or trophies. The sheer thrill of it all is greater than any trophy. I love racing. I don't think i stopped grinning all the way home.