Posted: September 24 2004 at 11:35am | IP Logged

      Cyber Motorsports Chats with Bill Auberlen
      by Earl Cook
      PSCR Grand Prix of Atlanta
      June 19, 1998

      Bill Auberlen

      Cyber Motorsports: Congratulations on a successful race at Le Mans. What
      is your most vivid memory of Le Mans now that you are back? [Le Mans was
      June 6-7]
      Bill Auberlen: Well, you have a couple of memories. One, is when you first
      get there and unload the car at scrutineering in the middle of town, and
      when you do it, people come out of everywhere to the center of town and as
      the car comes down the liftgate, the car absolutely disappears in a crowd
      of people. For about a half hour, you actually can not get near your own
      car. The officials just sit there and just allow the people around it. It
      actually got so bad that Mercedes would not unload their cars for fear
      that pieces would get ripped off their cars. So, it takes awhile to get
      the crowd under control and then it enters into a ten-stage scrutineering.
      They put the cars up on racks, they put it into different things and it
      takes about three, three and a half hours and if it passes, it comes out
      the other side and there are pictures and then off it goes.
      Cyber: Had you actually driven a McLaren F1 before you got to Europe?
      BA: Yeah, I tested that particular car in England for about twenty minutes
      to make sure that is what I wanted and to make sure that is what they
      wanted. In Monza, I tested the BMW/FINA car, the one that Soper and Lehto
      drove last year. We did that earlier in the year at Monza.
      Cyber: What is it like to drive a McLaren?
      BA: Well, at Le Mans, getting back to the most vivid memories, after the
      scrutineering, then the next day all the drivers do a parade through town.
      All these old cars show up and convertibles, they crank the cars up by
      hand and fire them up, and myself and my teammates sat on the back with
      this beautiful young lady holding our names on a board for three hours as
      we went through lines of people and kids running up to get your autograph.
      At every corner, there was a different band playing music. It was
      unbelievable, and so here we are, and I was thinking this is fantastic!
      And another huge memory is as I get into the car, take off on pit lane,
      and you are going the speed limit, dadadada, while you hit the [pit lane
      limiter] button. There are people lining the pit wall hanging over the
      edge, and they are so close that they can touch the cars as they come out.
      You hear all these stories, Mulsanne Straight, Mulsanne Straight, and that
      you can lose where you are. The first time I was heading down the
      straightaway and I was going 200 mph and I am thinking, "Where am I?" You
      are straining your eyes for all they are worth and trying to determine
      where the braking zones are. So for the first time, I was half way down
      the straight and I hit my brakes and then re-accelerated. Sure enough, I
      get half way down there and I hit my brakes, look around, hit the
      accelerator again. You just don't know where you are. It takes awhile to
      learn the track. It took me 15 laps to learn the track. You only get three
      laps a session on the track because it takes so long to get around the
      track. Then your teammates have their turn. We did a day session, a
      session at night and then the next morning I came out and I was right on
      top of my game.
      Cyber: I have always been interested in how the center driving position in
      the McLaren affects the driver.
      BA: If I sit on the right in a World Sports Car, the left in a Touring
      Car, it really doesn't matter. You forget where you are. The only time you
      realize you are in a McLaren is the pit stop and you open the door and you
      realize there is no one there, but they [the driver] is up there
      (motioning to the front). So, you must drag the guy out and then you slink
      your way in front. You get in and belt yourself in. It is beautiful the
      way the GTC team does it. I look down, I get my seat in the right
      position, there are three sets of lap belts, all color-coded, and I just
      grab my blue ones, clip them in, I was totally set up, I then look up and
      the other belts are hanging there spring-loaded. GTC is very, very
      professional.
      When you get in, the motor is dead, because at Le Mans you have to turn it
      off. It is really quite when you get in while they are refueling and it is
      totally awesome. All you can hear is clink, clink as you put your belts in
      and the guy working next to you. And for a brief moment there is dead
      silence. The guy pulls the fueling probe out, and it is like a total
      tornado because the tires are changing and everything they have got to do.
      And as soon as they are done, the car goes down, you are told to fire it
      up. And right before you fire it up, you turn the ignition on, and you see
      that the brains start sending signals to the dash, the dash sends signals
      to the car, and it tells you all what is happening right there on the
      dash. Pretty awesome.
      Cyber: You drove at day and night. Which do you like better?
      BA: You know, it is kind of weird. In the day, I like to see all the
      people and everywhere I go I can see them, I can see that they are
      enjoying it and all the festivities. And at night, it is kind of weird,
      but everywhere you go at night, every corner you come to, there are
      flashbulbs. Flash, flash, every single turn. So, they are still looking,
      you just can't see them. At night is initially a kind of spooky thing at
      Le Mans, because you are very fast, since the car is as fast or faster at
      night. The motor runs better and the tires are cooler and you can
      seriously out-drive your headlights. It just takes awhile to get used to
      it, but I like daytime better.
      Cyber: Is it disconcerting to be coming around a curve and having
      flashbulbs flashing in your eyes?
      BA: Sometimes. But the photographers must do their job. Initially they
      bother you, but there are so many of them, you get used to it.
      Cyber: Which part of the track did you like the most?
      BA: I like Mulsanne Corner, because it is real fast coming into it and you
      go down to first or second gear and then you are off. I also like the turn
      before Indianapolis, which is a really fast right-hander which leads you
      into the banking at Indianapolis. That combination is great. After the
      Dunlop Curve there is a roller coaster, I forget what you call it, and
      with a new set of tires and with the ground effects of the GT1 cars it
      works so well and it is so fast through there. It is really an awesome
      feeling.
      Cyber: Any close calls?
      BA: Just one. In my first stint, I get out there and I was just passing
      people and everything and all of a sudden, the Agusta World Sports Car, I
      passed him on the inside and apparently he did not see me and he cuts in
      and I do a one-eighty and pitch it sideways to miss him and then drove on.
      I thought, "If this is the way it is going to be, it is going to be
      tough!" After that, I had smooth sailing.
      My owner, Steve O'Rourke, in his first stint, spun at Indianapolis,
      touched the wall and tore the right-side mirror off. From then on, we
      drove the whole race with just the left-side mirror. That made it tough
      sometimes. What you tended to do was come out of a turn and then to drift
      to the right no matter what so that you could check behind you using the
      left mirror. We, the McLarens, were the quickest car down the straight so
      nobody would really pass us on the straights, but on turns, they would
      sneak away.
      Cyber: Thank you, very much and good luck this weekend.

Posted: September 24 2004 at 11:38am | IP Logged

Another perspective on LeMans:

A Long-time Sports Car Fan's
Perspective of Le Mans
and the
Significance of the Petit Le Mans
by Todd Hudson
October 8, 1998

      What is it about the 24 Hours of Le Mans that would compel an individual
      [Don Panoz] to spend millions of dollars of his very own money and go to
      such lengths to duplicate the unique experience of the French classic?
      Surely there's far more worthwhile pursuits than to pluck a pile of money
      into what some folks believe endurance racing is no more fun than watching
      your grass grow. Having paid several visits to Le Mans as a spectator over
      the past three decades, it's fairly easy for me to understand his
      motivation and desire to do what he believes is the right thing for
      sportscar racing.
      Le Mans, it's been said, is much more than a motor race. It really is a
      circus, a carnival, a fashion show of the well-heeled, a rolling
      automotive museum, a gastronomic feast and a technical wonder-lust, all
      combined to produce the greatest automobile race in the world. My interest
      in Le Mans started in 1964 with the new Ford GT-40 and the company's
      campaign to win the big race. And that led to the discovery that Le Mans
      had the fastest and longest straightaway of any circuit, anywhere. What an
      extraordinary piece of real-estate, that Mulsanne. No conversation about
      Le Mans can be complete without reference to that daunting plunge down the
      abyss. Over the years, a number of lives have been lost on that 3.5 mile
      stretch of road. In 1973, Pete Lyons wrote a race report for Autoweek,
      where he very elequently described what it was like to approach the
      Mulsanne Straight as a Matra-Simca descended upon you. He mentions the
      timid trip up to the guard rail and the palable fear which overcomes a
      person. He described the same fear one gets as if walking to the runway of
      an approaching jet. Iíd been there the previous year and knew exactly what
      Pete was talking about but he left out the part where one shakes
      uncontrollably with delight.as the blessed car screams by; the driver,
      holding the throttle down seemingly forever. And that's the thing about
      the Mulsanne; how could an engine last under those conditions, lap after
      lap with no letup, sixty seconds or more, defying the laws of physics for
      24 hours. Despite the not so new chicanes, there's still nothing quite
      like it today, although, for sheer speed, the long run down to
      Indianapolis Corner is faster and more threatening.
      The magic of Le Mans descends on you when darkness arrives. As with any
      night race, cars seem to pick up pace. Stand on a earth-berm near the end
      of the Porsche Curves. Itís so dark you canít even see your feet, but look
      down a ways and watch cars appear out of no-where, stealthy under the
      night sky. In the far distance, headlights search out a path like
      fire-flies. You can't hear them until they're upon you, one last shift
      before the Ford Chicane, then suddenly they're gone; I barely made out the
      number. Gosh, these pilots are fast: who was that guy? Lap after lap, the
      onslaught continues. The French announcer screaming at the top of his
      lungs, another of his nationís cars drops out. By 4AM all the adreniline
      is gone from your body. It's time to sleep, but you can't, you don't want
      to miss anything. Damn, this is a long race. You drag yourself to the
      grandstand opposite the pits, waiting for your car to come in, hoping it's
      still out there. Watch the mechanics at work as they tend to one of the
      thoroughly beaten machines, battle-scarred and bloodied, parked forlornly.
      There's a certain elegance these cars achieve with their bug splattered
      front-ends, brake dusted bodywork and oil sprayed windshields, like
      knights from meidevil times returning from battle, survivors of the night.
      Comparatively speaking, spectators aren't looking all that well either.
      Sleep depravition is a funny thing. When extremely spent, it's amazing
      what positions the human body can achieve, anywhere. Those that couldn't
      find shelter for the night invariably sleep anywhere along the public
      enclosure across from the pits. Apart from the fact not as many cars are
      running, noise doesn't let up. These people must be deaf by now as the
      sound bouncing off the nearly empty grandstand seats is unbearable. How
      can they sleep? Trash is everywhere, some of it made for a pillow or
      warmth. Coffee permeates the stands, followed by the familiar smell of
      fresh crepes. They come with berries and syrup. Itís time to replenish.
      The race goes on. A walk up to the carnival find events still going
      strong, but to lesser crowds. Some of the side-shows verge on the point of
      being X-rated, definitely not for children, but this is France, such
      things are tolerated; the ladies have more endurance than the drivers.
      Walk a little further and you arrive at Tertre Rouge, the final turn
      before Mulsanne.
      The corner hasn't changed much over the years, apart from a slight, and
      safer re-profile. Lean up against any number of trees as the cars launch
      on to the Mulsanne, and you'll know why Le Mans is so special. It's
      peaceful down there, nobody makes a sound. Listen. There's a pause in the
      traffic, your favorite car hustles down from the esses, all alone, its
      sound very distinct and uninterrupted. Sometimes a minute goes by as the
      cars are well spread out now. Your car accelerates rapidly as it gains
      pace, then top gear, he holds it there as he speeds off into the distance,
      he's long gone but you can still hear him, the only sound around. There
      must be a motor race going on but his is the only sound you hear. Man,
      that feels good, I feel that tingling behind my neck. What happened to the
      other cars? Then, only then, they finally arrive in packs of twos and
      three. The race goes on...
      There's so much more to this event that could easily fill a book. For a
      car enthusiast, the whole thing is just one big sensory overload. Le Mans
      is, in a way, a wonderful anacroism. A hold-over from a time where other
      motor events were just as compelling, just as romantic and just as
      dangerous. Much of what made Le Mans special nearly thirty years ago is
      still there. Yes, the Mulsanne is a shadow of its former self; the
      daunting Dunlop Curve is no more, but the run down to Arnage hasnít change
      and is a delight for spectators and drivers alike. Most of all, Le Mans is
      wonderfully accessible. You can go just about anywhere, including the pits
      and paddock. It has the sort of ambience sought by the new generation of
      baseball stadiums where the fans are closer to the field and thus the
      players. That's a good thing, not like the domed wonders of the sixties
      and seventies where one needs binoculars to watch the game. Sportscar
      fans, in essence, love endurance racing and they want to feel part of the
      event. Le Mans will never be duplicated, but what better way to share some
      of the experience in our own back yard by creating a piece of history
      here.
      Todd Hudson
      Spokane, Washington
      ####