Introduction by DriveWire Editor Bob Hume
My good friend Fiona is one of the most windswept and interesting people I know and despite the obvious disadvantage of being a girl (joke Fiona); she's also one of the best authorities on all automotive trivia. Don't try to get one past her - she can spot a car bluffer a mile off.
A keen charity rally participant, Fiona has driven thousands of miles in cars that I wouldn't take to the end of my drive.
She has owned a load of interestng cars during the course of her teenage and adult life including a Frog-Eye Sprite and a Baja Bug - she currently owns five cars including a Sebring (not the Chrysler, the rare British sports car). Fiona works as a camera operator with British Sky Broadcasting and lives on a cabin cruiser on the Thames.
Honestly, she does.
A couple of months ago, Fiona added another fascinating event to her already exotic life; she won a Sunday Times track drive in an Aston Martin N24 race car. Hiding my seething envy, I asked her to tell us all about her day.
Bob
Editor
Half a dead pigeon hanging out of the Astons front grille did nothing to enhance its good looks. The car sat in the pit lane, low, muscular and aggressive.
The evidence suggested it could easily outrun a pigeon but would it be as quick with me behind the wheel? Somehow I doubted it.I’d won the opportunity to race an Aston Martin Vantage N24 in the Sunday Times Hot Laps competition. I didn’t expect to be the fastest but I was going to have fun trying.Bedford Autodrome, the home of Palmer Sport, turned out to be the perfect venue for an amateur like me, with nothing but grass and gravel traps if I were to “fall off” the track. Martin, my instructor, suggested we start out with a few warm up laps in one of Palmer Sports Vauxhall VX220’s.
He threw us skilfully around the track, talking me through the entry points, exit points, when to change gear and when to hit the power. I knew I should have been concentrating on what he was saying but it was all I could manage not to be sick in my helmet as we flew round the circuit. The high speed passenger ride made me feel quite nauseous but the best way to learn is by doing, and it was my turn to take the wheel.“Brake, Brake, Brake” Martin shouted as I hurtled towards the corner, turned in too late and missed my exit point by a mile.
The VX 220 although a little skittish was wonderfully responsive; skipping round the track, then coming nicely back in to line. I was having a ball but I could see the Aston waiting patiently in the pit lane.I limboed over the Aston’s roll cage and into the driving seat, this car was not designed for me. At 5’3” my view of the track was slightly impeded by the dashboard and my legs weren’t quite long enough to press the pedals right to the floor.
At least there were only two pedals to worry about; the N24 comes with a flappy paddle gearbox and no manual clutch. “How are you feeling now?” asked Martin. “Hot” I replied. Being a track car, we had no luxuries such as air conditioning, the interior was heating up fast and I was wearing a fireproof race suit and crash helmet. A thought occurred to me; “Is this the same car that James May drove naked?” “Yes” came the answer.
My already weak stomach lurched; I was sitting in the same seat that had housed James May’s naked, sweating, buttocks. Oh dear god, please don’t let me throw up in a hundred thousand pound Aston Martin!My Instructor saw the colour drain from my face “Come on” he said “If you need to be sick we can stop on the other side of the track, away from the cameras.” I pressed the big, round start button in the centre of the dash. Nothing happened. I pressed it again, this time with my foot on the brake, and felt the 410bhp, 4.3-litre V8 reverberating through my body.
I flicked the right hand paddle, selecting first gear, second gear and out of the pit lane. Palmer Sport offer high speed passenger rides in this car on their experience days, but very few non-professionals get to sit in the driving seat.This was a very different beast to the Vauxhall. There was none of the twitchiness. I was waiting for the back end to step out of line as, with my increasing confidence and Martin‘s encouragement, I pushed faster and faster into the corners but it didn‘t happen.
The slick tyres and the Aston‘s traction control held us to the track like glue. In what felt like no time I had completed my 5 practice laps and it was time for my "Hot" lap. Under the terms of the competition Martin wasn‘t allowed to instruct me on my timed lap. I was on my own and I realised that I had been driving robotically, responding to Martin‘s prompts "brake", "turn in", "power", "power", "full power". I‘d been flying round the track like a pro, now I had to think for myself I could feel the lap was slower. Where was my braking point for this corner? Damn! I turned in too early and missed my exit point again! I‘d made a hideous mess of what was supposed to be my "hot" lap and I knew it.
I brought the Aston to a halt in the pit lane and clambered inelegantly out over the roll cage. My time was announced 1:38.19, over 10 seconds behind the leaders but thankfully not the slowest time on the board. More importantly I had suppressed the urge to vomit in the fastest, most expensive car I have ever driven.
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