Beneath the Glass Ceiling

Saturday morning came too soon. After two full days of excitement and action, my legs were aching, and I had bruises all over from getting banged around in ill-fitting roller coaster harnesses and from the late night karting. I really just wanted to sleep in, but I needed to get to the site and change tires and walk the course and do the hardship runs.

I knew the gates opened at 6:30, and I'd told McCance I'd be there when the gates opened, so I was rolling out of the hotel at 6 to get gas and some water on the way. When I arrived, there was already a line to get in, including several others who, for better reasons than mine, didn't make the Friday portion. Eventually, I made it up to the gate, flashed my hard card and then McCance shows up, asking for a ride over to the paddock. He'd left his ride (a beautiful Harley) on site because of the rain, so I guess he just got dropped off at the gate to wait for my arrival.

We got the tires changed, the car cleared out and walked the course twice each side before learning that they were doing a "split" for the hardship runs. Half of the drivers would work while the others took their two runs, and then we'd switch. I was with the first twelve, so Greg went out to work. My first run, on the left, was ugly, a mid 31s run after I parked it to avoid a cone at the finish. The gate at the end of the course was super tight, and I'd underestimated just how much so it was. Slowing down before the finish netted me a mid 29s run on the right, which was reasonable, if not respectable for a first run and green course.

In the midst of this, I was talking with Shawn Alexander, and I discovered the real reason why McCance switched rides. Another ESP driver, Dave Heinrich, had just installed headers on his Boss 302 Mustang, but didn't have time to get the car tuned before the event. Knowing that he could drive my car, Greg had offered up his seat in Shawn's Mustang to Dave so that Dave could stay in class. Shawn found out about the change when he arrived on site on Friday. Knowing the background, I felt a lot better it.

Greg's hardship runs were barely better than mine, as he double-coned a decent run and then had a respectable showing on the opposite side. His cones made it so that he would be the second driver in the upcoming heat, which was probably to his advantage.

Junior makes notes prior to his runs : "Step 1: Destroy the WRX. Step 2: Destroy the Talon."

I was paired up with Mike "Junior" Johnson for my first set of regular runs in heat two. Sam Krauss -- NO RELATION -- was leading with Shawn in second. Charles Moss and Dave were ahead of me in the standings, but, like McCance, were second drivers.

I've never finished ahead of Junior, and I was a little annoyed by him jumping into ESP despite having the SSP Corvette on site. I know SSP didn't have a class, so I don't exactly blame him for not wanting to run in the bump class. Still, I was surprised after our four runs to only be 0.08s behind him, and outright beating him on the right side course. In fact, after my runs, I was fourth, though I figured I'd be moved down at least one position after Greg's runs. I had left a lot on the left course, as I'd driven distracted on my last run due to the oil pressure gauge reading lower than usual; at least I think it was lower than usual. It didn't work at all at the DC ProSolo, and I don't remember looking at it during Packwood.

McCance in my car for the first time since Toledo Pro 2009

Greg checked the oil level before his runs, and it was fine, so he jumped in and immediately shot up to 2nd in the standings, merely 0.032s behind Sam. He was satisfied with the car's setup, so we didn't change anything, and my single driver plan of "set the pressures 2psi low and don't mess with them" worked for both of us.

Because of the "restructuring" of the event schedule, we weren't sure if we'd have to run again in the afternoon, but it turned out that they only got through shift B (my work assignment) before calling it a day. We wouldn't be first off in the morning -- a good thing, as green as Toledo's concrete can be -- and depending on how the Challenge worked out, it could be an early end to Sunday. 

The ESP grid on Sunday morning was, as Brian Burdette put it, "a familiar sight."

AWD pwns the competition at a ProSolo

Also familiar was the fact that the Talon didn't show up until moments before grid was about to DSQ Sam's first runs. While the rest of us speculated whether the car had spontaneously combusted in paddock, Sam said they had just been running late. Pat likes to point out that the Talon did break at the Dover SuperShootout without even turning a wheel, so maybe the truth was somewhere in the middle, who knows.

Sam started off by dropping 0.3s on the left, while McCance slowed down. Knowing how Sam choked at the NJ ProSolo last year, I was kind of hoping for the same deal this time around, so I tried to give McCance some encouragement. Instead, he coned a beaut of a 28.054 that would have moved him into the lead. Fortunately, Sam was busy taking a red light on the right side. They crossed over for the final two runs, and McCance grabbed 0.3s on his right side, but Sam dropped to a 28.0 of his own, extending his lead. One run left, and if McCance could match or exceed his previous run, but clean, he still had a chance.

He backed off on the run, just enough that he couldn't catch Sam. He knew it too. Was it the cone on the previous run? Were the tires overheated? Who knows. Sam coned a wicked 27.7 on the right, leaving McCance 0.287s off the pace with second drivers, including me, to go.

I wasn't nervous, I wasn't anxious at all, and that should have been my first warning sign that I wasn't going to do what I needed to do. I had been pretty meh about the competition all weekend, despite my best attempts to get amped for it. Yeah, I walked the courses, watched the fast guys from other classes (especially Super Stock; what a battle!!), and I still just sat in the car before pulling to the line and didn't think about how to improve. Oh, I knew what I needed to do. But unlike some past events, where I'd literally sit and visualize how to do it, I just sat there and stared over the hood of the car. I just wasn't mentally in the game.

Starting off on the left -- my bad side -- I had a good launch, and immediately dropped almost 0.2 from the start. It helps not having cold tires. I swapped sides, and dropped less than a tenth. Back over to the left, and I just went into full-on stupid mode by being too tentative going through the Chicago box before the sweeper, and then got late through the offsets coming back. No improvement, and meanwhile, both Charles and Dave had gotten by me, even if I had taken advantage of Junior's inability to go faster.

One last shot on the right, with nothing to lose.

Another 0.2s improvement, enough to bump me ahead of Shawn and stay in fifth spot.

Overall, the car handled and launched great (we were launching around 5K again, like at Packwood). My 60fts were solidly 1.8s, while McCance had a few 1.7s (keep in mind that these aren't necessarily equivalent to Packwood, since the measurements to the 60ft mark may not be precise). With the higher launch RPM, I wasn't having issues off the line, and McCance adapted to the lack of launch control on my car very quickly. The Competition Clutch seemed to bear no ill effects from Packwood's miscues on the launch, and I don't believe either of us thought the car couldn't do the job.

We waited in impound for over an hour before results finally came out, showing the final breakdown. Grady told us that only Sam was being kept, so the sad procession to paddock commenced, and we changed tires and I loaded all of my crap into the car. I went to grab a BBQ sandwich before hitting the road, and while waiting in line, Howard Duncan was announcing the Super Challenge qualifiers.

Mark Daddio was the top qualifier, and Sam was merely 22nd. It's funny that with a similar margin of victory to what I had at Packwood, Sam was so far back, but we had a lot fewer classes at Packwood, where I qualified 11th. So, Howard reaches the end of the list, then says, "It sounds like Marc Pfannenschmidt's left, so that moves Greg McCance into the 32nd qualifier spot."

I must have rolled my eyes so hard they almost popped out of my head. Seriously? He was the 33rd qualifier -- and they had to have known that when results came out -- and we were released from impound. Awesome. I got my sandwich and stalked to the trailer, where I told Sandi Brown that it was a shame McCance was told he wasn't being held and so we left impound and already changed tires. She glared at me and asked, "Well, is he running?" I was incredulous. I repeated that we'd already packed the car, and I was ready to leave, and she just said, "Well, if he isn't running, let me know so I can let someone else in."

I didn't want to make the decision for him, and if I stayed in the trailer another moment, I was going to say something I'd probably regret, so I walked out, looking for McCance, and he was actually walking towards the trailer. I told him that he would be allowed to run, if he wanted. He balked -- as he is prone to do -- but ultimately decided to do it. I poked my head into the trailer to tell Sandi, then we went back to the car, and starting throwing stuff out, bolted the tires back up and put it in impound. Meanwhile, Sam drives by and says, "I told you to leave my backup car!" a reference to how he jumped into my car for the Challenge at DC.

McCance vs. Fenter, a blast from the STX past

So, in the end, the Challenge was pretty anticlimatic for my car. The pairing was versus Chris Fenter, who'd destroyed CS, and when McCance referred to him as "The Machine," I had to wonder if he'd already psyched himself out. They pull to the line, indicated their readiness, Fenter leaves and then McCance redlights with a whopping 0.375. He hadn't redlit all weekend, and in fact had pretty conservative lights during competition. Again, my car doesn't even complete a full round at a Toledo Pro Challenge in the hands of Greg McCance. But, in consolation, Chris Fenter does go all the way to the final round, where he ultimately loses to Jason Burns. And, probably more importantly, I was still able to drive my car home.

We change tires once more, put all my accessory crap back in the car again, and then it was time to head home. The car decided to start with its "random no start" stuff again on the way back, so it's currently buried in the driveway until I have time to take it to IAG for diagnosis (and for when they have time to diagnose it, considering they are swamped with work). Fred thinks it might be a fuel pump on the way out, which would be awesome (NOT), considering I've done a fuel pump in both Camaros in the past year already. I guess it could be an epidemic; is the Lightning next?

Depending on when the car gets looked at, diagnosed and fixed, I could be done for a while. It also depends on how this meeting with my principal goes on Monday and whether or not he'll let me go to Nationals. I found a good substitute (not my #1 choice, but still a very good one) yesterday, so I have my fingers crossed.

Broken Glass

After coming back from Packwood, I needed to replace my turbo. Since I run ESP, that means I can't do anything cool and upgrade it, so another stock TD04 it was.

A little worse for wear

This is why it's important to not just pop the hood at every gas stop, but to actually look at things. The air filter had come off, and with the MODE Racing heat shield "box" around it (as opposed to a metal shield that just blocks it off from the engine), the detachment wasn't immediately noticeable. It likely happened sometime between the Pro itself and the 120K service. But that was enough to have things severely damage the turbo.

With that replaced, I decided to drive the WRX to hockey on Monday and Tuesday, just to get reacclimated to the Competition Clutch feel and the power band of the car. Ever since I switched to autocrossing the Camaro, I've devoutly believed that a familiarity with a car helps with being able to get the most out of it, so I try to make sure I am not in "Camaro mode" if I'm getting ready to compete with the WRX.

In this case, this was both a blessing, but almost a curse.

Tuesday night, coming home from a tough short-benched scrimmage where our white team pulled out a win, I was feeling good. Adrenaline flowing, Arlington guys giving me props for the WRX on my way out of Ballston, and I just wanted to romp on the throttle something fierce.

So, I gave in when I got to the entrance ramp from Glebe onto I-66. 5K RPM, second, 5K RPM, third, 4K RPM, pop!

That did not sound good. The check engine light is flashing. I pull off and get out the Cobb AccessPort to try to figure out what's wrong. It comes up showing a cylinder 2 misfire. I clear the codes, wait ten seconds and restart the car. It's definitely acting like it's running on three cylinders. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it had just popped a spark plug wire -- my 2.5RS did that once -- but the WRX has coil packs. I pop the hood and look around with my meager flashlight and don't see anything that stands out.

I start the car up and let it idle again. It's running terribly rough, but as long as I don't give it any gas, it's not throwing a code. Weird. At 11:30PM on a Tuesday, I really don't have a lot of choice except to wake people up, and I just don't want to do that. So, I plot a slow, slow, slow course home, where I barely crack 30mph. It was one of the longest drives home of my life.

The next morning, I text McCance to find out which side cylinder 2 is, so that I know where to start looking. When he says, "Driver's front," that means I have to pull the battery, but the offender is right there. And once I do pull the battery, it's super obvious what's wrong.

may as well be a popped spark plug wire

A small plastic "bump" that the connector clips over was missing from the coil pack. So, I call up IAG, and they have some extra coil packs around, and I drive up there to get one. They actually give me two, just to be sure, and three hours later -- gotta love mid-day construction -- I'm home. I install the coil pack, and the car starts up, running fine.

I hurriedly pack and say goodbye to Pat, since he wasn't going to be able to make the Toledo trip this year. It was time to get to Cedar Point....

I arrived in Sandusky around 2:30AM, got into my mayfly-infested hotel room, and slept fitfully until 8. The lobby's breakfast area was packed, but I managed to construct a waffle/egg/sausage "sandwich" to take to the car. The hotel is only 5 or so minutes from Cedar Point, so leaving at 9:20 was kind of stupid, but I was antsy. I sat in the car for 10 minutes, then went up to the entrance gate to get my Fast Lane wristband, and then finally entered the park where I had to wait another 15 minutes before us non-resort-staying plebes were allowed in.

While I waited, I debated what I should go to first. The Top Thrill Dragster is always a good bet, because it's so fragile (to the point that Sean likes to call it the "Subaru ProSolo Experience"; ie., it's fast as hell, except when it breaks). But, if the Top Thrill Dragster is an ESP WRX, then Millenium Force is John Crouse's Camaro, because it's not too far behind. I opted to go to Millenium Force first, because I knew both of them required that I put my backpack in a locker, and the lockers near Millenium Force are a little less out of the way than those near Top Thrill Dragster.

So, since last year, they've changed the lockers -- for the better, I might add. They are now set up to take credit cards, and you plug in a code and so can open and close them repeatedly during the time period you choose. You can also extend the time period. It's much more convenient than the keys they had last year, so that once you reopened the locker, your rental was done.

Anyway, I got in the Fast Lane line for Millenium Force, and already I could tell this was a good idea. Fifteen minutes later, I'd completed my first ride, in the front seat, of course, and I headed up to Maverick. Fast Lane line, front seat, done in 20 minutes. Gemini, then Magnum XL200, within the first two hours, I'd ridden six coasters, all in the front seat, and within that time, I'd already dealt with a 30 minute rain delay. The Fast Lane wristband had cost me $65 (it's $120 for two, $165 for three and $50 each for four or more, up to ten), and it was completely worth it. Of course, I'd only paid $25 for admission since Megan Biddle cued me in on a "Christmas in July" promotion, but still, after this experience, I don't think I could go back to 2-3 hour waits in line for the front seat at Top Thrill Dragster when the longest I waited was 40 minutes.

I spied JohnV from the Magnum XL200!

Wicked Twister

In fact, I rode so much, and walked around so much, that by 8PM -- a full two hours before closing -- I was ready to sleep. I went back for a third round of Top Thrill Dragster, a fourth time on Power Tower, then over to Windseeker, while all the while thinking, "I need to grab a late dinner and go to sleep," but after leaving Windseeker, I wanted to ride Wicked Twister again.... well, I did, and I finally dragged myself towards the front gate, where I rode the carousel before I left.

my biggest regret was not riding it in the dark

I was disappointed I didn't get to ride Magnum XL200 or Millennium Force more, but Magnum was broken all day shortly after I rode it, and Millenium Force was broken most of the day, so I was glad I went there first. The Fast Lane pass helped so that when some of the prone-to-be-broken rides were up and running, I could get one them, rather than waiting for 90 minutes only to have it break again.

So, on the way back to the hotel, I hit the Thirsty Pony for dinner. They, too, had a "Christmas in July" special, of Great Lakes Christmas Ale! A pint was $5, so I went for that, with the cinnamon and sugar on the rim.

sooooo goooood.....

A delicious walleye sandwich later, I was ready to pass out. I was heading to the Glass City of Toledo in the morning to steadfastly ignore the fact that the Toledo ProSolo was starting on Friday. I had plans to go to the Toledo Museum of Art and the Toledo Zoo, and I was going to them, damnit, even if it cost me my first four runs.

But first, I was rudely awakened a good hour before I'd even planned to start hitting the snooze alarm. My phone trilled at me at 7:38AM, telling me insistently there was a text message. I cursed myself for forgetting to turn the damned thing to silent and looked. 

McCance. Wanting to know if I was still going to the Pro. I was tired, I was pissed that I was awake, and so I fought all of my instinctive urges and just texted back, "Yeah." I dropped the phone and threw the pillow over my eyes. 

trillllllll.

I scowled at the offending electronic device. Reluctantly, I looked at it. McCance again. "Need a codriver?" I fought the intense urge to throw the phone across the room and debated how best to response without sounding like a total bitch. 

"Isn't Shawn coming?" He'd signed up to drive with Detroit region Mustang driver, Shawn Alexander. I'd offered him my car, and he said he would stick with the Mustang to show he "wasn't a hack."

"He is. Just asking." I wanted to break something, I wanted to go back to sleep so badly. It took all of my self control to be nice and just say, "I already offered the car to you." I mean, I had, and it would be really catty of me to tell him "no" just because he woke me up. But on the same note, the whole thing made me feel weird. I didn't know why he was asking me if Shawn was still going to be there, because I knew that if someone had planned to drive my car and ditched me at the last second, I would be pretty offended. 

I shook it off, and since at that point, I couldn't fall back asleep easily, I just figured I'd get up and shower and head out to Toledo. 

I've been to the Museum a few times before, so I was really interested in the non-permanent collections, especially the Color Ignited exhibit. I spent probably two hours in the Ancient Civilizations room, and then moved into the Color Ignited room. The first piece to really catch my eye was Fred Wilson's Iago's Mirror.

Fred Wilson. Iago's Mirror. 2009

Okay, this picture doesn't do the piece justice. First of all, it's huge. Secondly, to see it in person is to see the bizarre reflection that it casts. If you know the story of Othello and the character of Iago, then the strange reflection cast by the "black" (actually a very, very dark purple) glass starts to make more sense. I'd seen the pictures of it on the TMA Facebook page, but like most art, I had no idea what it was going to be like when I actually saw it with my own eyes. 

But even that was nothing compared to two other pieces in the exhibit. 

Let me preface this by saying that I appreciate art. I am especially astounded by ancient art, where the techniques to create things of wondrous beauty were so basic, we can only wonder how it was done. I am amazed at the time and the creativity of painting and sculptors, as I don't have nearly the patience -- much less the talent -- to create the things they do. But rarely do works of art capture me and move me to tears by their extreme beauty. I can literally count on one hand the number of pieces that have had me just state in complete amazement after capturing my attention from across the room. King Tutankhamen's death mask was one of them -- and yes, after all these years, I still remember seeing that so clearly at the Smithsonian. 

There was not one, but two such pieces in the Color Ignited collection.

Twilight Powered by Electricity Makes for a Brilliant New Horizon by Andrew Erdos

I don't know why I even bothered taking a photo. It can't do this piece justice. It was just simply amazing. I saw it out of the corner of my eye while I was looking at the Fred Wilson, and despite how "epic" the mirror was, I had to look at this. 

But after walking around the backside of the room, there was something even more eye catching, and this one I really couldn't leave.

Fundamental Vortex 2 by Michael Estes Taylor

There were camera crews all around while I was there, filming for CBS Sunday Morning (not sure when it is going to air), but the one camera guy I talked to agreed with me -- this particular piece would be absolutely stunning under natural light. As it was, under the track lighting, the prism effect was very pronounced. It made me think of a cluster of quartz and citrine crystals.... I was just astounded by it. 

I actually bought the exhibit book, and even those professionally done photos don't do this exhibit justice. I can only hope that some of the pieces maintain a permanent place in the Glass Pavilion next door.

After I bought the book, I headed out for the Zoo, where I, of course, went to the reptile house for the chelonians, and then wandered some of the other areas just to see what they had.

Tuatara

Burmese brown tortoise

Tiny painted turtle

Redfooted tortoise

Sea jellies

Alligator snapping turtle

Wally the walleye, official mascot of the Toledo Walleye hockey club

After spending time in the aquarium building, I walked outside to wet pavement, and realized storms had moved in. I started to walk back to the car, but a quick burst of rain sent me running to the Aviary for 10-15 minutes. Then I headed over to the Airport for check-in and tech. It started raining again, so I skipped changing tires, and went to the hotel for check-in, then out to dinner with some of the Cleveland/Akron crowd. 

The view from my car in paddock at 6:15PM.

We finished off the evening by going to a karting place where we managed to almost get tossed -- well, some people did get thrown out, but Megan and I negotiated with the manager and so not everyone had to leave. Fortunately, most of the perpetrators of the spinning and assclownery had fled, so the rest of us finished our last two races with good, clean-as-you-can-do-it-in-Ohio racing. :)

The next morning would be the ProSolo, with the impromptu codriver...

He actually made the car look good. :)

To be continued....

Dream a Little Dream

I'm assuming you've read part I and part II of this latest road trip? If not, get to it....

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

-- Edgar Allan Poe, "Dream Within a Dream"

Bits of cottonwood fluff drift through the late day sunlight near Gold Creek, MT

I was so close, I could taste it. Well, if it was Hershey, I would have been at least smelling it at this point, considering 10 hours in the West is like 3 in the East. Everything is just scaled differently out there, from the size of the mountains (bigger) and the speed limits on the roads (faster) and the size of the cities (smaller). Maybe when I grow up, I'll move out there...

I left Missoula around 7:30AM, being a bit lackadaisical about getting up and on the road. Idaho wasn't too far off, and then it was a short jaunt across the panhandle into Washington. 

At the Idaho/Montana border

A rest stop in Idaho netted another "small world" episode, as two former Marines who were manning a trailer handing out coffee and cookies hailed me and asked if I needed anything. I moseyed over to see what they had, and the older of the two badgered me into taking two oatmeal cookies (which actually were delicious) and a bottle of water. I dropped some money into the donation can, and they asked where I was coming from. When I said, "Maryland," they asked specifically where, and of course, I said, "Baltimore."

Turns out, the older Marine was originally from Baltimore too. We reminisced about places where most people don't dare walk alone anymore, talked about some old haunts in Glen Burnie and Pasadena, and how things have changed since he was last back there. By what he was telling me about selling Baltimore Sun papers during World War II, I would venture to say he was in his 80s, and had seen a lot more than I could imagine. It was a cool little interlude in my long journey.

Soon enough, I was through Spokane and approaching the Columbia River. All I remembered from the trip last year was the windmills on the other side of the river, and I was just glad that I didn't have to see them in the dark again. As I approached the gorge, I decided to stop and take a few pictures at the Wild Horses Monument viewpoint.

Vantage Bridge. I can't see how it survives if the Columbia River floods.

The windmills aren't as terrifying in the daylight

Ryegrass Summit Rest Area

I don't know why they scare me. But they do. Like combines and bridges

Through Yakima and Naches in the broad daylight, I got on US12 and kept plugging away. In the meantime, Sammy had taken a bus to Billings, then another train to Sandpoint, ID, where Shelly picked him up. While I was still on the road, he was at the event site before 2PM!

The site of Sammy's rescue

I took my time arriving in Packwood, partly because I wanted to, and partly because I got stuck behind John Vitamvas's typical nightmare -- a gold Camry that thought the world revolved around them. I stopped at a viewpoint to get a few pictures, which got me out of that train, and then checked into the Cowlitz as I rolled into town.

Mount Rainier hidden behind clouds, likely condensation.

Hey, I needed more than just my car on the salt flats this time!

I paddocked across from Andy Hollis and Joe Austin, got my tires changed and car teched, checked into registration, then grabbed some tacos from the welcome party (they had a taco truck!) and walked the course with some of the local guys who were convinced that I was fast and I'd show them the fast line. It was weird having them following me, like I was Sam Strano or Mike Johnson conducting an official course walk. But I went along with it, making sure they understood that I was walking the course for the first time and hadn't really thought a whole lot about where I'd be looking and all that.

My little paddock spot

The inside view of the taco truck, where the magic was happening!

After doing some course walks, I heard that Shelly was pulling out the glass pumpkins she'd brought for any interested autocrossers. Evidently, she and Ken Mollenauer make these glass pumpkins for a festival in Los Angeles, and they sell out every year. I went over with Ann Hollis, Kristi Brown and some others to look, and fell in love with this little orange one.

The stem is silvery in color and there are 24K gold accents all over.

So, as often happens at a ProSolo or National Tour, there were the Friday night parties around the site, but they all seemed to congregate at the Hymans' RV. As the sun set, the frozen margaritas were poured, and then Kevin Dietz and Terri Mayo showed up with the Tron2000 and glow sticks.

Everyone was decked out in glow sticks, compliments of Kevin and Terri

The party soon moved from the event site to "downtown" Packwood, specifically the Blue Spruce. Geoff Clark and I rode down in my WRX, dropped the pumpkin off at the hotel, then met up with Ron Bauer, Karl Coleman, Matthew Braun, Dennis Healy, Scott Fraser and pretty much half of the entrants. At one point, Geoff ordered a drink called a "trash can" and then proceeded to ignore it until we teased him about how full it still was.

Geoff never got this low, not even close.

Last call rolled around a lot quicker than anyone thought it would. Geoff said he'd walk back to the event site (he was camping), and knowing it was close, but not so close that I would want to walk 15 minutes in an area where elk and possibly other large mammals roam at night, I told him I'd drive him back. So, we walked the 3 minutes back to the hotel, I drove him to the site and then was back in my room within the time he would have been able to walk the entire distance.

I wanted to let people know I wasn't ignoring them if they texted or called! So what if I posted it at 2:30AM? ;)

Right outside my room on Saturday morning.

The intent was to get to the event site around 6:30AM, walk the courses again, make sure the tire pressures were close, and just generally be ready to go ASAP. The reality? I left the hotel at 7AM, ran into Sammy and Shelly at the gas station next door as I put a few gallons in the WRX and grabbed a breakfast sandwich, and then after walking the courses, ran into Kristi Brown who was asking if Greg was definitely not coming.

"Definitely not. He texted me on Tuesday. Why?"

"Do you want a class?" she asked me. I'd seen the orange Boss 302 Mustang on my way into the paddock building that morning. I was intrigued. "Stacey Molleker is trying to put something together."

Laura Molleker came over at that point to tell me the tentative plan. "Stacey will switch from AS to ESP, and then Kit Gauthier's wife, Jess, will switch to run open," she says.

"I appreciate the effort," I told them, "but I'm very particular about who I let drive my WRX. If it was the Camaro..."

Laura nodded in understanding. "Stacey's got a plan," she said and I told her to just let me know.

Turns out that they enlisted Jodi Fordahl's friend Tim Weidemann, who was signed up to run FS in his Cadillac CTS-V. And just like that, there were five in ESP, and I didn't have to run a futile race against Marshall Grice and Tom Berry and Scott Fraser in bump class.

My car is still the out of place one, being the non-domestic :(

We ran in group five, so we worked shift A, and that was fun, working course with Brian Coulson and Matt Tagles. Our station wasn't too busy, and the pace was good, so we weren't bored nor were we overworked. Then, it was time to prep the car and bring it to grid.

First runs were not good. As usual, I did not do practice starts, and I haven't autocrossed the WRX since the DC ProSolo. So, I pull up, stage, and promptly have a low 0.4 redlight on my very first right side run. No worries, right? I cross over to the left, launch and manage to cone an otherwise decent run. Blah.

Back to the right side, and I'm thinking that I just want to get a time in the books. Nothing worse than going into the afternoon with no time on one side. The shot clock ticks down, one second left, and I see the stage light go out. What. The. F.... damn it. No time to fix it. I launch, cutting a 0.3 light, dive into the first slalom and almost lose it, opting to take the failure trifecta with a DNF at that point. I meekly pull up for my last run, and rip off the fastest time in ESP on that side. Small consolation.

So, results come out to impound and I see I'm not the only one struggling with the right. Stacey, too, has no time in the books with a RL and a DNF on the right, so we're the ones trailing the pack. The afternoon would start with Kit and Tim paired up with Stacey and I trailing. I shook my head at the absurdity of getting beat by a stock CTS-V and then went out to the Hancock Cafe for lunch on Geoff's recommendation.

I get back in time to walk the courses again, once each side. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for; I just feel I should walk them, and I need some time to just think. I'm not launching well. In fact, my clutch smelled terrible when I got to impound after morning runs, and I know that part of it is just relearning how to launch the car with this new Competition Clutch. The start seems pretty well rubbered in, and I just figured maybe I'm more tired than I thought and I should just rest up before my runs.

The view from our worker station.

Sammy and Matthew both talk to me about my driving. Sammy points out the obvious -- that I'm launching poorly -- and tells me that maybe I need to launch at a higher RPM. Matthew talks to me about how tight I need to be through the last part of the right course; I take his advice as saying it's similar to the Youngers course at Nationals last year, where you can only lose time, not gain it. As I work the course in the afternoon, I try to pay more attention to the lines of the fast people I see. All three of us are dissecting what people are doing coming into the opening slalom; are they braking or just lifting? Has does that translate to our cars? We were watching STS Miatas and BS S2000s, not XP LSx powered RX7s and ESP WRXs.

STU is gridded up? Must be time to pull the WRX over 50 ft from paddock to grid.

So, I'm paired up with Stacey again, and we pull to the line for our runs. I am thinking, "Five grand.... yeah, five grand sounds like a plan," for my launch, though I never launch that high. First run, very smooth, and, most importantly, clean. I jump over to the left, same launch, and I'm a tick slower than my fast run from the morning. Okay, no biggie, back to the right, I'm in a groove now, guess what? Oh hell, yes, 1.1s improvement from the first run, and it's back to the left, I've got this.... 28.6.... plus a cone. Crap. Damn. I'd be legitimately leading ESP if not for that. So, I'm still sitting on the 29.1 from the morning, and it has me 0.4 back from the lead, in third for Sunday.

I have the time. I have the car to do it. I just need to do it.

We wrap things up at the site, and Geoff tells me a bunch of people are meeting for dinner at Cruiser's Pizza. I go back to the hotel, clean up and change, and walk over to the pizza place. Geoff's already there, and we order a split pizza (since neither of us is hungry enough for a whole one), and as we finish up, Gretchen Everett and Tasha Mikko bring in a cake and start singing, "Happy Birthday" to Geoff. Like the previous night at the Spruce, it seems half the entrants are there, and everyone's joining in. Turns out Geoff's birthday is just a few days after the event, so they decided to celebrate it early.

Geoff's cake with a picture of his car; he didn't cut the car section at Gretchen's behest

It was back to the Blue Spruce after dinner to watch some more karaoke (and boy, did we get a show when Scott Fraser's girlfriend did her rendition of the infamous Davinyls' song!), then when the gigantic tequila shots came out, I slugged it down, then as Geoff was leaving, I took the opportunity to cut out early myself. I did not need to start tequila shots when I had a legitimate chance of winning the class. I usually save the tequila for when there's no hope.

Back to the event site at 7AM, I managed to not get anything for breakfast -- this would become important later -- but I did take another set of course walks before checking in to work. It was do or die for me, as third place wasn't even a trophy, much less a tire, and it was somewhat frustrating to know that stupid cone was the current determining factor, plus I knew the cone was one of those "barely" cones, where I caught it with the rear tire, and it slowly lost its balance and fell.

STR grid. Kevin's car only glowed when light was directly applied, so I took this photo with the flash.

As group five's turn came around, I was paired up with Tim in his CTS-V. It didn't seem fair, but Jessy was in fourth, and as a two driver car, she was sitting out for the time being.

ESP Sunday morning grid

Dennis Healy captures me pulling to the line.

I am starting on the left for the first time all weekend, and I know I have the time on this side. I launch, slip the clutch just a little, and come in with a 28.606. I'm feeling good, but don't realize there is a cone on that run. Jump over to the right, and I don't go any faster. Damnit. Kevin announces that I'm still in third. What? I don't know what times Kit and Stacey are running because they are finishing just as I'm launching. This sucks. I go back to the left, and I just want to drop time. Matthew ran a 27.7, and ESP should be close to SS times, right? Launch, dive into the first slalom... whoa.... no! I know I've coned it, and I risk the glance in the rearview that confirms it. I'm angry at myself, I'm frustrated at how I stupidly got late in that slalom, and I almost consider bagging the run and just driving straight off. But I stay on course, and when I come across the line, I see a 10.6 and Kevin's saying I might get a rerun.

Really? I'm giddy, and thinking, "No way!!" I pop the hood and start to pull towards the two driver lane as Kevin's announcing that I am the only one with a chance to take the lead from Kit since I have two runs left....

Two? Wait... left... right....left.... crap!!! I suddenly realize that for the first time since my first ProSolo in 1997, I've forgotten to take my last run. I whip the car around to the right side staging lanes, yelling at Matthew to get my hood closed and praying that Sammy is delaying the shot clock.

I have 12 seconds left on the clock as I pull up. I fumble to get the car staged, get the radio off, check for first gear, and I'm out of time, I've got to launch. It's not my best, but it gets the job done, and I keep it tight through the nasty back section, though I don't really get on it as quickly as I should coming through the finish... 28.9. All that, and I'm a tenth quicker? Holy... wait, I have one more run, and this is where I need to do it. No one else is around -- SMF is the next full class to pull up, and they are waiting for me to finish -- and I staged, just telling myself, "Don't fuck this up," over and over until the shot clock beeps, I remembered last year. I remembered not capitalizing on my rerun that could have had me beat Tom Kotzian for second place in bump class. And then the lights came down, and I launched. I was still too tentative in that opening slalom, especially after coning the last attempted run. I wasn't nearly as tight on the exit of the left hander as I should have been. I wasn't anywhere near as confident coming through the finish as I should have been. I left time everywhere. But when I came across the line, Kevin Dietz was screaming to everyone on site and Ustream that I'd just won ESP.

I started crying. People were clapping as I drove by as if I'd just won a Challenge. I was shaking and could hardly see through the tears as I pulled up to impound where Ann Hollis was taking photos for contingency. I just won ESP at a National event!!! And with the win came the automatic berth for the Super Challenge.

Impounded!

The fact that the WRX was impounded was actually kind of a problem. I hadn't had breakfast, and now I wouldn't get lunch. I looked over what kind of snacks I had left for the trip home, and opted for a granola bar and some beef jerky to get me through the afternoon. It probably wasn't enough, but I was high enough on adrenaline.... And then it hit me.

Ocular migraine.

This is only the fourth time I've had one, and in most cases it's not going to be as bad as it sounds. There isn't pain involved with it, not like a regular migraine. But I have a very difficult time seeing because everything is hazed with an iridescent ring. Shelly tried something to hasten its departure, and while it went away in one eye, it lingered in the visual field of the other (which was really weird). So I sat in the dark as much as I could, eyes closed, hoping it would go away before I had to run. Fortunately, the Super Challenge is the last one of the three, but unfortunately, I was in the first paring.

Against an SSM Viper

It would not end well for me. I was really out of it by the time my runs rolled around.

At least the car looked good on the line! Photo by Dennis Healy

I started on the right and was 0.4 back when we came in. That was to be expected, as the right side was the slightly slower side, but I was too tentative where it counted on both sides, and while I made most of it up on the left, I still lost by 0.039s. No biggie; it just meant I could change tires and get on the road sooner.

Of course, I had forgotten to charge the battery in my cordless impact, and I also forgot to pack a block of wood, so I was left looking for some help. Geoff let me borrow his stuff, and I was quickly able to get the tires changed and car loaded so that when trophies were done, I could head out.

I'm still pretty incredulous about my first open class win at a National level event. PAX-wise, I was 15th overall, between Andy Hollis (in his STF Mazda 2) and Kevin Dietz. While Andy may have had some sand, I don't think it was much as he also went out in the first round of the challenge (unexpected red light). Packwood has been good to me, result-wise, and it has me hoping that I'll do better than just limping into the trophies at Nationals if I go this year.

It was sad heading out of the event site, but other places beckoned. There was salt to see.

Rainier came out from behind the clouds on Sunday afternoon

Results from Packwoood.