My First Autocross Was In A Borrowed Porsche

I’ve thought about getting involved in autocross for a while, as it’s something I can get into without driving four hours, and also is (theoretically) a bit safer. Plus, my Cooper S is an incredibly popular autocross car. The man working the gate even attempted to talk me into it when I checked in to get my wristband. So obviously, the first car I talked my way into was a lightly modified Cooper S. Sure, this wouldn’t really be applicable to racing a rear wheel drive Porsche, but it would at least show me the track, and let me know what running my own Mini would be like.

Porsche 944 autocross
Photo credit: Reuben Samuels

Like every enthusiast, I like to think I’m a quick driver. I’ve been driving my Mini for a couple years, and like to believe that I’ve gotten pretty good at hustling it around. I’ve waxed poetically about the agile chassis on multiple occasions, and how it can play right on the grip threshold with ease. That was before I buckled myself into a car driven by an SCCA champion. His Mini only had a few bolt-ons, with some minor suspension work, so it was still very close to stock.

After the first corner, I no longer thought I was a quick driver. I was entirely unprepared for how fast you had to drive the car. Every single corner we entered, I was convinced we could not possibly stay on the pavement and out of the weeds. It didn’t have much in the way of straight line acceleration, but it just never slowed down. This was the definition of a “momentum” car. I now understood what drivers meant when they mentioned driving at 10/10ths. If that was 10/10ths, I’ve never driven above 5 or 6. Full aggression, at or beyond the limits of the tires, the entire time. My mind was blown. I couldn’t even pay attention to the course, because the physical sensations were so overwhelming.

After that, I bummed rides in a few other cars, just to get a feel for the course, and for the speed. Then was working the course, which sounds much more complicated than it is. Basically, I stood next to the hairpin, and replaced cones that people knocked over. Pick up cone, gesture to an official that a cone went down, replace cone. Oh, also try to not get killed by the Mustang on Hoosiers when it locks up its brakes and overshoots the corner.

To make things more complicated, I managed to lose my eyeglasses while working the course. So I wound up being out in the grass way longer than expected, before needing to run to the Johnny on the Spot for the important pre-race piss. I was going to be terrified anyways, and the last thing I needed to do was soil myself in the driver’s seat. By the time I got done hunting for my glasses (which I did not find), and using the facilities (which were fairly unpleasant), the parade lap was beginning. So I ran the width of the parking lot, grabbed my helmet from my co-driver, and jumped in the 944. This was my first time sitting in the driver’s seat.

It was also my first time driving the circuit, in any configuration, in any vehicle. I had walked around it twice, and been a passenger three times, but that’s hardly preparation for doing it myself. I even managed to miss a cone on the parade lap. This didn’t exactly bode well for running it at speed.