Chance to trip the Lites fantastic

Eric Thompson finds with TRS Lites the faster you go the better they handle. Photo / Manfeild Circuit

Having retired from racing motorcycles a long time ago, it seemed a little odd to be suiting up again at a race track. After a moderately successful motorcycle-racing career, I wasn't going to turn down the chance of experiencing what it must be like to drive a scaled down version of an F1 car complete with wings and slicks.

I had been given the opportunity to drive a slightly detuned Toyota Racing Series car - in all honesty, I would probably not have taken up the offer to drive the full blown TRS car because I'd get into trouble.

But the Lites version is a new class-within-a-class created to ease the transition from karts, or other racing categories, to the TRS series which is the country's premier single-seater motor racing class.

Lites cars run a specification that offers less scope for tuning of aerodynamics or suspension settings and the engines are mapped to produce less power than the championship cars. They will, however, run in the same races as the championship cars.

This extension to the successful Toyota Racing Series will help the development path into wings and slicks cars that is already being provided for New Zealand drivers.

Lites drivers will receive coaching in all aspects of the sport to hone their on and off-track skills such as liaising with media, engineering, fitness and diet.

A parallel programme will be established to provide training for the engineers.

I was at Manfeild with a bunch of young drivers, children really, who had qualified to test the Lites car as a reward for winning their classes at the KartSport New Zealand National Sprint Championships.

The successful driver over the two days wins a drive in a TRS Lites single-seater at a round of the 2009/10 TRS Series.

Category manager Barrie Thomlinson says the initiative responds to demand from young racers emerging in other classes and also to the economic climate.

"The Lites cars give our young stars a first transition to wings and slicks racing, and makes sure we don't lose sight of a fresh crop of race stars who are trying to advance their careers in a very difficult commercial environment," he said.

The new cars will support the teams active in the championship by establishing a feeder category that puts them in contact with the next season's crop of race drivers.

"This extension to the category will make it easier for drivers to step into the premier class," Thomlinson said.

Midway through testing it was my turn to see if I could still mix it with the youngsters. How hard could it be on four wheels?

Getting ready to get into an open-wheel race car is a bit different from putting on a helmet and throwing your leg over a race bike. For a start you have to be measured for the seat harness, and then there's the strange Head and Neck Support (Hans) device. Talk about a straightjacket for the head.

Trying to get into the narrow cockpit, I may be a little podgy (as I was recently described by my wife) but I'm by no means a big bloke, but I still felt like I was being stuffed into a sausage skin.

After having my nether regions groped and rearranged while the full-race harness was clipped together, I was suitably trussed up and ready to go. I now know how a contortionist must feel when fitting himself into a box. The reason for the ever-so-snug fit would be revealed later.

While listening to advice from the engineer, my only thought was "don't be a wally and stall it in the pits".

All of a sudden there was a cacophony of noise from behind my head and my vision blurred with the vibration.

I shoved the thing into gear, revved it and popped the clutch - hoping I wouldn't bunny hop down pit lane. I shot off and was popping and farting towards the pit exit with sound of gnashing mechanical teeth right behind my ears. I thought I'd broken it already. And the ride - from all the talk about spring settings, I thought the car was supposed to have suspension. You could have fooled me. If I'd run over a matchbox I would have been able to count the number of match sticks in it the ride was so hard.

As I gently accelerated on to the circuit there was a vague familiarity about it all. Not so much being on a track I once raced motorcycles on, but more the sensation of being out in the open, the helmet being buffeted by the wind and various stones, dirt and rubble being thrown up by the tyres. It all seems so much more real when there's no roof.

Most of the first lap was not too daunting, because the tyres weren't up to operating temperature but as I came on to the front straight I pushed the throttle open and the engine note changed to that of wailing banshees and off we went. Bloody hell, it was quick for a 1.8.

I jumped on the brakes way before the marker thinking I'd give myself a bit of room to get used to it but had almost come to a complete halt by the second marker and had to accelerate to get to the apex. Slightly embarrassing.

I soon discovered wearing a Hans device stops any side to side movement. Anyway, all you can see left or right are two big black tyres.

It took a bit of mental gymnastics to convince myself that the faster you go, the better the car handles. It's all that technical scientific gumph about getting the tyres hot so they stick more and the faster you're going the better the aero. I'll tell you what though, once you get your head around it, it really does work.

Conventional wisdom would dictate you'd at least slow down for some corners, or ghost through on a hunting throttle, but oh no, accelerating and changing up as you march through the infield at Manfeild is apparently the way to go. My excuse was it wasn't my car and I wanted to give it back in one piece.

I did overcook it during one lap and the car flew around the corner like it was on rails. So I went a bit faster.

Towards the end of the 30 minutes I was having a lot a fun and then realised I might be getting a bit to cocky as I tried to catch one of the youngsters ahead of me.

Even at my mediocre pace, I soon realised why the driver is wedged in, the G-force during cornering and braking, made possible by the amazing aerodynamics would have you out of the car in a flash. They may not be as fast as a V8 Supercar in a straight line but they sure as hell carry speed through the corners.

Realising discretion was the better part of valour, I pulled into the pits. By this point my calf muscles had cramped into painful knots. Unlike a conventional car, all foot movement is through the lower leg, nothing to do with the thigh. My calves still hurt three days later.

It's an art form being able to drive these things. They're at their best on the limit and the driver's reaction has to be out of the top drawer. Other than being able to see very little and not being able to move about in the cockpit, it would have to be one of the very best experiences I've had.

It has given me a deeper and better understanding of what open-wheel racers have to contend with. But how they pass each other is beyond me.

TRS LITES

Outwardly similar to the championship cars but differentiated in their livery, the new TRS Lites will be an arrive-and-drive package that provides a first step for racers aiming to compete in the premier class.

The cars use the existing mechanical components and carbon fibre chassis but will have less power - 111 kW (150bhp) compared to the 166 kW (220bhp) of the cars in the main series. Lites will use the same production-based 1.8-litre Toyota engines but their management and variable valve timing systems will be reconfigured to control power output.

Lites will compete in the same races as the championship cars, giving new drivers their first taste of premier-class racing managed and engineered by TRS.

TRS cars in Lites specification are likely to lap within 3-4 seconds of times posted by the championship cars.