The morning of March 12, 2010 began in the manner of dozens of previous outings: up early, hook up the trailer, load the car onto the trailer, pack the truck, and head south.  In fact, the commute to the track ordinarily falls beneath the radar when time comes to chronicle the events of a weekend.  On this occasion, however, I will take brief exception.
 

Unlike previous adventures, this one involved firing off a quick text message before pulling out of the driveway.  Half an hour later the contents of that text bore their intended fruit. Whilst cruised past TN exit 81 (75S), a pair of familiar headlights bobbed their way into view through the post-rush-hour traffic as a certain stock-looking 240SX joined the formation for the 4-and-a-bit hour journey to that automotive playground in Braselton, GA known as Road Atlanta. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys; three-years in the making, TJ has entered the game.

Right, thunderous introduction dealt with, the remainder of the passage south only avoided complete non-event status by the mystery of TJ’s fuel consumption (read “broken fuel gauge). That, and what turned out to not-actually-be a navigational error on my part…That is to say: Google Map directions can bite my ass.
 

We arrive at the track around 3:30pm and unload the MR2.  Trunks emptied and numbers affixed, we head to the tech shed to get the cars looked over…

I feel I must pause for a moment to provide much-needed background here.  TJ, for the past three weeks, existed in a constant freak-out state over the possibility of his self-built car failing tech.  I fielded nightly instant messages, texts, calls, and forum posts regarding one small item or another.  So, needless to say, after somewhat encouraging mild paranoia, I get a pretty dirty look when the inspector walks out, essentially kicks the tires, and slaps a sticker on his windshield.  In my defense, I suppose it was better to be over-cautious than cavalier about the situation.  To my detriment, I definitely laughed a bit (ok, a lot). 

Registration and tech obligations concluded, we hit Zaxby’s for the ritual track-weekend meal and take it to the house.

Saturday morning greets us with mixed-but-tolerable weather.  It has been said: “Great race-tracks have consequences”.  This rings true of Road Atlanta, particularly in the wet.  Seeing a munched Corvette or BMW towed back into the pits always sobers things up a bit.  Mercifully by the time TJ’s group of novices headed out the track had largely dried out.  All the same he took it pretty easy, an approach his instructor surely appreciated.  I took the slower first session to remember the line I had learned last time around and make sure nothing had shaken loose on the way down.  As the day wore on, TJ got his feet under him and I started playing with different gears through the first half of the track and for turn 7.  Unfortunately, the MR2’s cooling problem reared its head again and somewhat curtailed my playing.  TJ, fortunately, experienced no such mechanical shenanigans and seemed to enjoy himself.  Saturday ended with some tasty barbecue and some coolant system bleeding.  After an hour and a half of attempting to de-bubble the MR2, we called it a night. 

Sunday presented us with cool, but dry conditions for most of the morning.  Bleeding the system had alleviated, but not-entirely cured my cooling problems.  I could at least say for certain that my problem lies with bubbles in the heater core and can thusly attack said problem back home.  I was still able to virtually match my best lap from my previous trip to RA while short-shifting by 2000 RPM on the back straight in order to keep the temperature gauge in the happy place.  TJ finally shook loose a coil bracket and that caused some ignition issues in the third session on Sunday.  A few zip-ties later and he was back in business. 

Towards the end of the day both of us decided that, discretion still the better part of valor, we should skip the last session and re-convene at a later date for more.  Thus, some hasty packing, and a suitably dull return trip concluded this particular adventure.  Both of us have things to address before the next attempt, but do not be surprised if the usual two-thirds of 3-Zero make it to at least one more event this year…now if we can just convince Travis that his Volvo won’t explode when it gets a whiff of FIA curbing…

‘Til next time!