- 667
+Please take the time to read this article as trust me, I believe it is worth the little time it will cost you. Thanks a bunch, and leave me some comments to show that the hours and hours spent were appreciated.
Previous chapters:
PART I
PART II
Part III
The Nürburgring is a strange place. It demands respect, like few other racetracks on the planet. This has just been demonstrated to me as a brand spanking new BMW M5 sulked past in a sorry state on the back of a low-loader. Rumor has it that the super saloon had encountered lift-off at Flugplatz, bottomed out on landing, and the experienced driver couldnt recover from the unexpected pirouette that followed. This isnt an encouraging start to the day, especially considering my less than adequate knowledge of the ring.
Jimmy (friend, and driver of a black M3 CSL) and I decide to venture out onto the track to get a few laps under our belts before lunch. I swing the Skylines door closed, pull on my hired helmet and fasten my seatbelt. The four-point harness, and the full OMP roll cage are refreshingly reassuring, but when traveling at well over 100mph the cage seems it was constructed from used toilet rolls and Pritt Stick. I slot into the queue to enter the circuit, hands quivering with excitement. The car ahead accelerates beyond the toll barrier, which slices back down in front of me. I exchange a brief word with the tollbooth operator, and the barrier slides out of view. I brush the throttle, edging out onto the circuit, Jimmy sucked up onto my back bumper. This is no time for heroics, but I am tempted to take a full dose of the Skylines 550bhp and fishtail it onto the circuit.
The first lap is a gentle warm up, only accelerating gently and progressively, and never really unleashing the Skylines 550 straining horses. Timing equipment primed I near the start-finish line and bury the throttle. My ears are ringing to the sounds of the gargantuan turbo, forcing great gulps of air into the engines throat, and the barely silenced exhaust spitting and crackling during downshifts. The first sets of corners are a blur of misjudged breaking, fumbled apexes, and less-than perfect throttle control, but slowly the car and I begin to work as one.
Coming up to Flugplatz I tense momentarily, as I remember the recently written off M5. I force myself to relax, breathe deeply and prepare for take off. We are airborne for only fraction of a second before the car crashes back to earth, but all seems well, and with a quick dab of the breaks nail the apex and come out of the bend grinning ear to ear. This is more like it. I take a quick glance in the rear view mirror to see the outline of the CSL gently sliding back into the distance. The rest of the lap goes well, with the wheels paying only a few short visits to the grass. Some traffic held me up around the Pflantzgarten, but on the final long straight the Skyline dispatched them with ease, hitting well over 170mph and delivering huge packages of torque to the wheels. The next lap is treated as a warm down session, and as the breaks begin to grumble after a 12-mile onslaught, it couldnt come sooner. I wait for Jimmy to catch me up, and then pull into the car park. Hopping out I wait for Jimmy to do the same, the sounds of the engines cooling off whispering in my ears. Discussion on how our laps went followed, and Jimmy reveals how the M3 simply couldnt match the tyre shredding performance of the Skyline. Jimmy makes an estimation as to the Skylines first flying lap, predicting a devastating sub-8 minute time. On the next 3-lap stint, I will strap on the GPS timing gear, and see if my efforts have been worth it. Just penetrating the 8-minute blockade is quick, in the same way that my mums a good cook, but shell never be cooking at the Ritz. Only the timing equipment can prove if the Skyline is a gourmet prawn cocktail salad, or a crupled packet of prawn cocktail crisps.
Realizing that the Skyline is going to struggle to achieve the time of the Carrera GT, I poped open the R32s boot, to reveal a set of lightweight Speeline rims wrapped in competition spec rubber Yokohoma Advan A048. The track day spec sports medium tyres should dramatically improve lap times, and even though it may be considered cheating, it should make the challenge breathtakingly close. Aided by a few helpful RMA members we swap the road legal rubber for the lightly treaded A048s. They must make it feel like driving on an ice rink when driving in the rain. Luckily the sun is beating down onto my forehead, conditions just about perfect for hot lapping.
This time I choose to drive behind two ring veterans in their Weissach missiles. The leader is in a sparkling yellow, and knee-tremblingly rare Porsche 993 GT2 RSR. He is followed by a stark white GT3 RS adorned with red and white decals. They should demonstrate to me the quickest lines and show how fast it is possible to go. Im glad Ive fitted the sticky rubber, because Im struggling to stay in touch with the two Über-Beetles despite me having more power. On the straights the GT3 is a little slower, but the drivers confidence means that he pulls away in the corners. I gradually realise that the Skylines limits are actually much harder to reach than I previously believed. Flying through Pflanzgarten, car skipping off the bumps and crests, I have a hairy moment. However, I manage to recover and complete the lap car and driver still in one piece. My heart is beating even faster than the speed we are travelling, and its glad to be given a chance to calm down in the car park. The timing equipment recorded a very impressive 742 time. Still we have to drop 10 seconds off on a lap. In my eyes this seems impossible, but talking to the GT2 driver I regain a shade of hope. It was a fast lap, theres no doubt about it, but there are many places where we could go a little faster or break a bit later. Also, the traffic may have cost us a couple of valuable seconds. He follows on to say: Both our cars with their track rubber strapped on are capable of beating the Carrera GTs time. They both produce similar power to the GT, have much more torque, and very stiff rollcaged chassis. The GT may be a supercar, but its not that light, and unlike our cars it wasnt designed with track work specifically on the agenda. With all this in mind, we decide to head out again at lunch, when the track is at its quietest. To also gain some more extra time I removed the spare wheels and luggage from the boot, and also drove with very little fuel in the tank. This shedding of weight may be the answer. Also the new tyres should have bedded in slightly better now.
Sweaty hands seem to be the order of the day as I sit in the short queue for the track. The road spreads out in front of me, a deadly serpent twisting its way through the Eifel Mountains. Sunlight glints off the track winking at me, daring me to enter. I pull my Ray Ban shades over my eyes, drop the clutch, and roar out onto the circuit in the wake of the charging yellow GT2.
We execute the steeply cambered first turn with ease, and only a slight whiff of wheel spin and head down into the next technical section Hatzenbach. Here we avoid the dangerous high curbs and drive smoothly into the apexes. Flying out onto the first portion of straight tarmac we brace ourselves for the notorious Flugplatz. Literally meaning flying place, we hit the launch pad off the throttle, and prepare for the following corner. Following the next long straight where we reach in excess of 180mph we get airborne of the menacing bump before the Schwendenkreuz corner. Im really in the zone now, my mind with only one focus. We exit, a tunnel flashing by overhead and power down into the part of the circuit known as the foxhole. The trees alongside are swept backwards into my peripheral vision as the g-force squeezes my skull. After travelling so fast we approach Adenauer and carry our speed through the succession of twists. Flying downhill towards Exmüle I take a nervous glance at the fast-approaching concrete blockade. Timing here is vital, and both cars hit their brakes at the perfect time slingshotting them out the other side and up the next sloping corner. This lap is good. Ive never gone so fast round a track, and the adrenaline pulsing through my veins encourages me further. Flowing out through Bergwerk I ring the engine out to the max. I darent glance at the speedo for the track is covered in moguls, but I know this is fast. We enter the roller coaster, Karussell, and the centrifugal force presses me into my seat with its powerful hand. My whole body aching from the harsh vibrations we press on, my bumper glued to the RSRs. Now we are at least 7 miles through the lap and making devastating progress. At Brünchen it is normally the tradition to showboat, but for once I keep my cool and exit in a straight line. My least favourite section is now approaching, and the surface resembles a rally track. Heading over the bumps the cars hop and skip. Simultaneously the Porsche and Skyline both jump violently and land slightly askew. I almost close my eyes, but a little lift off and a fraction of opposite lock are much more efficient ways of keeping alive. Glancing ahead Im relieved to see the GT2 also in one piece and showing no signs of slowing. Only a couple of quick corners later we hit the almighty straight. The triplet of turbos all suck in greedy gulps of air boosting us to a terrifying GPS proved 194mph. Tucked into the slipstream of the Porsche I am allowed to accelerate faster in the clean air, and the Porsche pulls over to let me use this advantage for the final corners. Braking late and hard, tyres squealing I manage to hit the apex and flash across the start/finish line. My heart seems to be attempting to hammer itself through the wall of my chest as I pull into the car park, sweating profusely. Clambering out of the cockpit I spot the driver of the GT2 doing the same and charge over to him.
That was awesome I manage to utter. Honestly, thats as hard as I could push. Comes his hoarse reply. I manage to gasp a Thanks mate, and remember what I had come here for. THE TIME! I charge back to the car again to check the Racelogic device. What, 742 again? I stare in horror. Then to my delight I realise it is displaying the previous laps time. With a slight sense of apprehension I prod the next lap time button. What stares back at me is beyond belief. Blinking innocently at me, the display reads 7 minutes, 31.251 seconds! It takes a moment to settle in, but I make a wholly undignified whoop and leap into the air. Grinning wildly I notify the GT2 driver, Phil. We both embrace and head off to the Pub for a well-deserved beer. I grin and look back at my stark white R32. It seems to be secretly smiling back at me, sharing the elation. What a day, and finally, what a car.
**NB**
The lap time was done on SM tyres, so I rearded this to be on track-day spec rubber. Therefore the lap time is a little unfair, but the story wouldn't have been the same without it.
Stay tuned for more write ups in the future. Thanks for reading
Previous chapters:
PART I
PART II
Part III
The Nürburgring is a strange place. It demands respect, like few other racetracks on the planet. This has just been demonstrated to me as a brand spanking new BMW M5 sulked past in a sorry state on the back of a low-loader. Rumor has it that the super saloon had encountered lift-off at Flugplatz, bottomed out on landing, and the experienced driver couldnt recover from the unexpected pirouette that followed. This isnt an encouraging start to the day, especially considering my less than adequate knowledge of the ring.
Jimmy (friend, and driver of a black M3 CSL) and I decide to venture out onto the track to get a few laps under our belts before lunch. I swing the Skylines door closed, pull on my hired helmet and fasten my seatbelt. The four-point harness, and the full OMP roll cage are refreshingly reassuring, but when traveling at well over 100mph the cage seems it was constructed from used toilet rolls and Pritt Stick. I slot into the queue to enter the circuit, hands quivering with excitement. The car ahead accelerates beyond the toll barrier, which slices back down in front of me. I exchange a brief word with the tollbooth operator, and the barrier slides out of view. I brush the throttle, edging out onto the circuit, Jimmy sucked up onto my back bumper. This is no time for heroics, but I am tempted to take a full dose of the Skylines 550bhp and fishtail it onto the circuit.
The first lap is a gentle warm up, only accelerating gently and progressively, and never really unleashing the Skylines 550 straining horses. Timing equipment primed I near the start-finish line and bury the throttle. My ears are ringing to the sounds of the gargantuan turbo, forcing great gulps of air into the engines throat, and the barely silenced exhaust spitting and crackling during downshifts. The first sets of corners are a blur of misjudged breaking, fumbled apexes, and less-than perfect throttle control, but slowly the car and I begin to work as one.
Coming up to Flugplatz I tense momentarily, as I remember the recently written off M5. I force myself to relax, breathe deeply and prepare for take off. We are airborne for only fraction of a second before the car crashes back to earth, but all seems well, and with a quick dab of the breaks nail the apex and come out of the bend grinning ear to ear. This is more like it. I take a quick glance in the rear view mirror to see the outline of the CSL gently sliding back into the distance. The rest of the lap goes well, with the wheels paying only a few short visits to the grass. Some traffic held me up around the Pflantzgarten, but on the final long straight the Skyline dispatched them with ease, hitting well over 170mph and delivering huge packages of torque to the wheels. The next lap is treated as a warm down session, and as the breaks begin to grumble after a 12-mile onslaught, it couldnt come sooner. I wait for Jimmy to catch me up, and then pull into the car park. Hopping out I wait for Jimmy to do the same, the sounds of the engines cooling off whispering in my ears. Discussion on how our laps went followed, and Jimmy reveals how the M3 simply couldnt match the tyre shredding performance of the Skyline. Jimmy makes an estimation as to the Skylines first flying lap, predicting a devastating sub-8 minute time. On the next 3-lap stint, I will strap on the GPS timing gear, and see if my efforts have been worth it. Just penetrating the 8-minute blockade is quick, in the same way that my mums a good cook, but shell never be cooking at the Ritz. Only the timing equipment can prove if the Skyline is a gourmet prawn cocktail salad, or a crupled packet of prawn cocktail crisps.
Realizing that the Skyline is going to struggle to achieve the time of the Carrera GT, I poped open the R32s boot, to reveal a set of lightweight Speeline rims wrapped in competition spec rubber Yokohoma Advan A048. The track day spec sports medium tyres should dramatically improve lap times, and even though it may be considered cheating, it should make the challenge breathtakingly close. Aided by a few helpful RMA members we swap the road legal rubber for the lightly treaded A048s. They must make it feel like driving on an ice rink when driving in the rain. Luckily the sun is beating down onto my forehead, conditions just about perfect for hot lapping.
This time I choose to drive behind two ring veterans in their Weissach missiles. The leader is in a sparkling yellow, and knee-tremblingly rare Porsche 993 GT2 RSR. He is followed by a stark white GT3 RS adorned with red and white decals. They should demonstrate to me the quickest lines and show how fast it is possible to go. Im glad Ive fitted the sticky rubber, because Im struggling to stay in touch with the two Über-Beetles despite me having more power. On the straights the GT3 is a little slower, but the drivers confidence means that he pulls away in the corners. I gradually realise that the Skylines limits are actually much harder to reach than I previously believed. Flying through Pflanzgarten, car skipping off the bumps and crests, I have a hairy moment. However, I manage to recover and complete the lap car and driver still in one piece. My heart is beating even faster than the speed we are travelling, and its glad to be given a chance to calm down in the car park. The timing equipment recorded a very impressive 742 time. Still we have to drop 10 seconds off on a lap. In my eyes this seems impossible, but talking to the GT2 driver I regain a shade of hope. It was a fast lap, theres no doubt about it, but there are many places where we could go a little faster or break a bit later. Also, the traffic may have cost us a couple of valuable seconds. He follows on to say: Both our cars with their track rubber strapped on are capable of beating the Carrera GTs time. They both produce similar power to the GT, have much more torque, and very stiff rollcaged chassis. The GT may be a supercar, but its not that light, and unlike our cars it wasnt designed with track work specifically on the agenda. With all this in mind, we decide to head out again at lunch, when the track is at its quietest. To also gain some more extra time I removed the spare wheels and luggage from the boot, and also drove with very little fuel in the tank. This shedding of weight may be the answer. Also the new tyres should have bedded in slightly better now.
Sweaty hands seem to be the order of the day as I sit in the short queue for the track. The road spreads out in front of me, a deadly serpent twisting its way through the Eifel Mountains. Sunlight glints off the track winking at me, daring me to enter. I pull my Ray Ban shades over my eyes, drop the clutch, and roar out onto the circuit in the wake of the charging yellow GT2.
We execute the steeply cambered first turn with ease, and only a slight whiff of wheel spin and head down into the next technical section Hatzenbach. Here we avoid the dangerous high curbs and drive smoothly into the apexes. Flying out onto the first portion of straight tarmac we brace ourselves for the notorious Flugplatz. Literally meaning flying place, we hit the launch pad off the throttle, and prepare for the following corner. Following the next long straight where we reach in excess of 180mph we get airborne of the menacing bump before the Schwendenkreuz corner. Im really in the zone now, my mind with only one focus. We exit, a tunnel flashing by overhead and power down into the part of the circuit known as the foxhole. The trees alongside are swept backwards into my peripheral vision as the g-force squeezes my skull. After travelling so fast we approach Adenauer and carry our speed through the succession of twists. Flying downhill towards Exmüle I take a nervous glance at the fast-approaching concrete blockade. Timing here is vital, and both cars hit their brakes at the perfect time slingshotting them out the other side and up the next sloping corner. This lap is good. Ive never gone so fast round a track, and the adrenaline pulsing through my veins encourages me further. Flowing out through Bergwerk I ring the engine out to the max. I darent glance at the speedo for the track is covered in moguls, but I know this is fast. We enter the roller coaster, Karussell, and the centrifugal force presses me into my seat with its powerful hand. My whole body aching from the harsh vibrations we press on, my bumper glued to the RSRs. Now we are at least 7 miles through the lap and making devastating progress. At Brünchen it is normally the tradition to showboat, but for once I keep my cool and exit in a straight line. My least favourite section is now approaching, and the surface resembles a rally track. Heading over the bumps the cars hop and skip. Simultaneously the Porsche and Skyline both jump violently and land slightly askew. I almost close my eyes, but a little lift off and a fraction of opposite lock are much more efficient ways of keeping alive. Glancing ahead Im relieved to see the GT2 also in one piece and showing no signs of slowing. Only a couple of quick corners later we hit the almighty straight. The triplet of turbos all suck in greedy gulps of air boosting us to a terrifying GPS proved 194mph. Tucked into the slipstream of the Porsche I am allowed to accelerate faster in the clean air, and the Porsche pulls over to let me use this advantage for the final corners. Braking late and hard, tyres squealing I manage to hit the apex and flash across the start/finish line. My heart seems to be attempting to hammer itself through the wall of my chest as I pull into the car park, sweating profusely. Clambering out of the cockpit I spot the driver of the GT2 doing the same and charge over to him.
That was awesome I manage to utter. Honestly, thats as hard as I could push. Comes his hoarse reply. I manage to gasp a Thanks mate, and remember what I had come here for. THE TIME! I charge back to the car again to check the Racelogic device. What, 742 again? I stare in horror. Then to my delight I realise it is displaying the previous laps time. With a slight sense of apprehension I prod the next lap time button. What stares back at me is beyond belief. Blinking innocently at me, the display reads 7 minutes, 31.251 seconds! It takes a moment to settle in, but I make a wholly undignified whoop and leap into the air. Grinning wildly I notify the GT2 driver, Phil. We both embrace and head off to the Pub for a well-deserved beer. I grin and look back at my stark white R32. It seems to be secretly smiling back at me, sharing the elation. What a day, and finally, what a car.
**NB**
The lap time was done on SM tyres, so I rearded this to be on track-day spec rubber. Therefore the lap time is a little unfair, but the story wouldn't have been the same without it.
Stay tuned for more write ups in the future. Thanks for reading
i read it all now and you write really really well!! 👍 
