Driving Indy at ‘slow’ speed still a thrill ride
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Among the topics covered in the brief instructional message were lessons about using the three pedals, reacting if the red light came on in the cockpit and the importance of maintaining a “safe” three- to four-car distance behind the lead driver, Jeff Sinden, in Danica Patrick’s No. 7 car. That’s how they kept us from setting a new track record for non-Indy Racing League drivers.
And I still wasn’t in the car yet.
Of greater concern was another delay as mechanics tinkered with Al Unser Jr.’s 2001 race car longer than anyone who had gone before me. So much for easing the angst.
When they finally fitted my helmet and I climbed in, I couldn’t resist the urge to rev up the 140-horsepower Honda engine. The safety crew strapped me into a five-point harness and put the HANS device around my neck — constricting my movement in this tiny tub of a cockpit. I’d been in bathtubs that were larger and I immediately wondered how anyone could endure sitting like this for three hours.
Four laps was more manageable.
After flipping the ON switch and pushing the starter, I pressed the accelerator five or six times just to hear that roar. The feeling liberated me from all those memories as the instructor, Scott Jasek, gave me a thumbs-up.
When Sinden pulled out, I followed, relying on the same pedal footwork I’d relied upon in my old pickup truck.
One goal already was complete: I did not stall in the pits.
All was not well, though.
Moments later, as I pulled down pit road and onto the warmup lane, I lost sight of Sinden around the bend between turns 1 and 2. When I saw a path to the track, I thought Sinden had pulled away so I made steered right quickly and wound up in the middle of turn 2 — barely avoiding the grass.
Turning right at Indy is a recipe for disaster, I knew, and this was a close call. I could have spun or crashed. That’s when I saw Sinden reappear — still on the warm-up lane getting ready to exit onto the back straight.
“Oops,” I said to myself. “Well, I’m out here safely, at least, let’s get this thing going.”
I clutched the steering wheel like a 16-year-old taking his driver’s test, then cautiously accelerated to catch Sinden. It took about a half lap to get near him, and I refused to look left or right until I was comfortable.
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