Awed of the Ring: Part Three

On Sunday, before we called it a day, Paul and I had a little track tuition. Kevin, proud owner of an E30 BMW M3 and veteran of 200-odd laps of the ‘Ring, was sans car as it had developed ominous rumbling noises from deep within the engine. While it was undergoing exploratory surgery, he kindly agreed to passenger round with us and point out the line. What a difference experience makes. When you know where the track goes, you can drive with much more confidence and grace. In the space of two laps, I went from being the slowest car on the ‘Ring (I was overtaken by a Smart Roadster, for God’s sake – albeit a Brabus-tuned one) to keeping pace with some quicker machines, and the tuition really opened my eyes to the truth that to drive a track fast, car control is only part of the equation. It was a fantastic experience; if you can find a knowledgeable passenger to accompany you, I’d highly recommend you to do so. Kevin, if you’re reading this, thank you!

The thing about the ’Ring is, if you take it easy there’s a huge amount of fun to be had there. It’s intimidating when you first arrive, but the atmosphere in the car park is great, and the place is full of grizzled veterans and newcomers alike, all interested in the same thing – enjoying the track. My main concern (aside from being mocked openly for my choice of car) was dealing with faster traffic and making sure I didn’t irritate or endanger anyone by being uselessly slow. Because the ‘Ring is technically a public road, and therefore subject to German laws, the rules are nice and simple: drive on the right, pass on the left. As long as you stick to the right hand side of the track, and keep a weather eye on the mirrors, you’ll be fine. Perhaps a mite embarrassed when the inevitable Suzuki Swift goes past fast enough to suck the door off the side of the car, but fine.

The bikers are a different matter, though. If the seemingly endless procession of flat-out 911s and M3s begins to get a little dull, the antics of the two-wheel brigade never cease to amaze. At one stage, when I was getting more confident and hammering up a long uphill section, I saw a bike appear behind me at warp speed and closing fast. I indicated right, as the track etiquette demands (it lets people know you’ve seen them and aren’t about to do anything stupid/dangerous), hugged the kerb and let him pass – which he did, in a Doppler Effect blur of dayglo. Bearing in mind we were going well over 100 mph here, I didn’t really think it necessary for him to take a foot off the pegs and wave it in the traditional biker “thank-you”. But he did it anyway, then screwed the throttle wide open and disappeared. Utter, total and complete lunacy. But rather nicely done, all the same.

The bottom line is this: drive the ‘Ring like an unfamiliar B-road and leave the heroics to those who want to indulge. There’s no stigma to going slowly, provided you let people overtake and drive courteously. If you stick to these basic principles and accept that your first visit will never allow you to learn enough about the track to drive it like Derek Bell, you will have a great time. The web is groaning with ‘Ring-related resources (of which my favourites are www.nurburgring.org.uk and www.nuerburgring.de), which are invaluable if you’re planning a trip. So, get out there, people. It’s worth the drive...

When the rain started, Paul and I decided that we’d learned enough for one trip. What a weird thing obsession is – it drives you to travel nearly 900 miles for seven laps of a track! On the way home, I reflected on the TT. It’s such a cliché. There are many, many purer drivers’ cars out there for the money – especially if you factor in the second hand market. But I love it. It worked very well at the ‘Ring – far better than I’d expected it to, delivering some genuine fun where I was worried I’d only find numb steering, understeer and disappointment. It also delivered on the mundane level – hacking back through Belgium in torrential rain; while Paul was occasionally having to fight the TVR’s unruly temperament and hoping his roof stayed leak-free and firmly attached, the TT just soldiered on, imperturbably. I felt I could have driven to the end of the Earth in the comfy seats, listening to the excellent stereo and enjoying that gorgeous interior (an interior which, despite plenty of abuse, has yet to deliver a squeak or creak). I know I’m in a minority when I write this – most people either like TTs for their looks alone and never get close to tapping their performance and capability, or people disregard them as fubsy, woolly Golf-in-frocks and look down on those who drive them. My view, and I will continue to hold it until violently persuaded otherwise, is that it’s a fine compromise; fun when you want it to be, reliable and comfortable when you don’t. There are plenty of more hardcore, driver-focused cars out there, but would you want to drive across Europe in one? In my case, after careful consideration, and watching two blokes putting on drysuits for the journey home in their Caterham Superlights, the answer’s probably no.