It’s a while since I was up-ended at Silverstone but Hollis Motorsport have just put the incident on YouTube so I thought a reprise might be in order. It was the last time I was behind the wheel on a racing circuit but I plan to race something somewhere in 2011, if only to celebrate closing the door of my writing room for a while with the latest project completed.
Archive for the 'Racing' Category
Two things worth reporting.
Tony Calvey (see October) stunted his Stampe biplane over our house recently, concluding his display with an inverted pass. Unfortunately we did not have visitors at the time, which denied me the chance to remark nonchalantly: ‘ It’s one of my readers. Happens all the time.’ Soon I hope to take up Tony on his invitation to go for a flip. 
A little ‘hands-on’ at the controls of a biplane, even a high-powered one like the Stampe, will not only be fun but help with writing my sequences about flying over the Western Front in 1915 (see High And Over).
About the same time a friend of mine, Chris Hoggarth, who owns a Porsche wangled me a place in a driving day at Silverstone in February. This means I’ll have a chance to try out various models of the new 911 Carrera GTS.
As I’m renewing my competition licence for next season it’s a great opportunity to get my (somewhat rusty) hand in.
The old banked circuit at Brooklands must be one of the most evocative and downright spooky venues that still exist from the very early days of motor-racing and aviation. Not too much remains of the famous track but the Brooklands Society has done a wonderful job of making the most of what’s left. Visitors get a real whiff of the atmosphere there from 1907 to 1939 when war brought an end to the fun and, let’s admit it, often tragedy as well. And occasionally there’s even a whiff of the real thing; Castrol R racing oil as enthusiasts run historic vehicles around the perimeter roads.
I was there with my flying helmet on, as it were, researching the Flying Village that occupied a site on the far side of the main Brooklands Automobile Racing Club buildings (now metamorphosed into the British Automobile Racing Club of which I have long been a member). Some of my characters, between 1910 and 1914, are about to rent a shed at the Flying Village and attempt to break various flying records in England and France. The purpose of the trip was to make sure I get the topography right and uncover that clinching detail that helps to make fiction ring of truth.
Pictures show the banking from the Members Bridge (the one including the small figure is looking towards the spot where Clive Dunfee’s Bentley went ‘over the top’ at 130mph with fatal results). 
The red brick building and white-painted interior is the old BARC Members Restaurant, now being restored with the guidance of English Heritage to an amazingly original state.
Although the full grandeur of the circuit is just a memory Brooklands is required viewing for anyone interested in cars and aeroplanes and you can even join the band of dedicated volunteers who have succeeded in preserving the place against huge odds.
This photograph came to light when BBC South East Today, our regional TV station, asked for pictures that represented a turning point in life.
Sitting in this little 500cc racer, possibly a Kieft, I realised for the first time that I might one day be able to race, that it was attainable, instead of just watching other people do it. That dream took quite a long time to come true but sure enough finally I found myself on the starting grid in a single-seater ready to compete in the circuit where, for me, it all began.
The BBC South East reporter/cameraman did a brief piece based on this pic and his feature is scheduled to go out in a week or so. The fact that I’m still racing, and crashing, was for him a bonus…
5 APRIL 2009
Odd for the first entry of a writer’s brand new blog to be nothing to do with writing, but that’s how it falls. And there is a link between the subject I’ve concentrated on so far, fighter pilots in combat and the business of racing cars. Both activities share an interest in controlling a machine in extremis, suppressing rising apprehension as the moment approaches for take-off or forming up on the starting grid, experiencing that odd combination of pumping adrenalin and cold calculation once the action is underway and above everything that conviction that, if anything nasty happens, it will happen to the other fellow. Which brings me to Silverstone, where I drove a race-prepared Citroen 2CV.
I recall I did not touch wood.
Sounds tame but they are good for 100 mph in race-trim and the races are always popular with the crowds because the racing is so close; with 2CVs, three, four, even five cars into a corner will go.
I had decided to use the event to promote the recently published paperback edition of ‘To Play The Fox’ by placing a large decal of the roof of my 2CV, with the slogan ‘Fast & furious, like my latest thriller.’ And during the lunch-break before the race joked that perhaps I should put the car on its side, so fans would get a better view. I recall that I did not touch wood…
I was a third into the race, battling for a top-ten place, when I was snagged on my inside rear wing powering through Luffield, the quick left-hander leading to the famous Woodcote corner and the main straight. The photo sequence shows it all. There was a hefty thump on my inside rear wing and I felt the car being pushed to the right.. At first I thought it was just a spin, cursing because it meant I would have to fight my way back through the field. Then everything went light and over we went, the view through the windscreen showing tarmac instead of the bootlid of the car in front. There was a good deal of noise, metallic scraping and the crack of the toughened windscreen shattering. But it was not a big impact when we landed; nothing like as violent as previous shunts (this was the fourth roll in my so-called racing career spanning more than forty years) and all I suffered was a stiff neck and a sore ankle. It was then, as the marshals escorted me away from the wreck, that one of them noticed the slogan on the roof. What could I say, other than: ‘ Yes, I might have been fast but my wife’s going to be b****** furious.’
Now I’m being leaned on in a different way, not by another racing driver keen to pass but by the family trying to convince me that the time has come to hang up my helmet. But when the motor-racing bug bites, it bites deep. I wasn’t planning any more races this season anyway, as I’ve almost completed research for my fourth book and I’m due to start writing. But 2010? Well, perhaps commonsense will prevail. It hasn’t yet, but don’t tell the family…
