About half way through lap two while sitting in the back of the Indy Racing Experience two-seat Dallara, an unexpected thought crossed my mind: "faster."
I certainly didn't expect to become Mr. Need-for-Speed going into my June 19 (the Friday before the Iowa Race) track debut as "just a passenger" in the Indy Racing Experience two-seater at Iowa Speedway.
I expected to crawl from the car, apologizing for both hurling AND crapping my pants.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the 14-degree banking of Iowa Speedway. Terror didn't show up. But fun did.
It's a pretty straightforward process. First, I signed about five documents that say, essentially, if I'm in a car that goes flipping down the track like a freshly beheaded chicken, well, I knew the risks. (And, if there was any justice, some smart-ass blogger would mark the occasion with a clown stamp -->.)
I wasn't too worried about that, since I don't think a two-seater has ever crashed, plus it's not like we're running in a pack with the 2008 version EJ Viso. Still, there's always the chance that something will go SPROING and you will Tony Kanaan it right into the wall.
You have to be shorter than 6' 5" to ride (no problem there) and under 250 pounds (uncomfortably close, but CLEAR there too). After signing the many forms, Shonda gave me a fire suit and booties (which I guess are also fire resistant), and I got changed in the IRE trailer. (Shonda: "I recommend you take off your pants and leave your T-shirt on." Been a while since any woman who isn't technically my wife has said that to me, Shonda. My Indy Racing Experience is enhanced!)
Then the Helmet Guy gave me a head sock, helmet (he managed to pick one large enough for my gargantuan melon) and gloves. When it was my turn, I got those on and make a couple of easy steps to get into the back of the car.
My driver was Arie Luyendyk Jr. Once in the car, my knees were roughly around Arie's rib cage (although there are separate compartments for driver and passenger so Arie and I did not have to get snuggly). The crew dudes put the collar on around my head and gave the restraints a spirited tug. By the time it was all done, I felt more like I was wearing the car than sitting in it.
Let's light this candle. The starter dude got us going and and the right front crew dude waved us out. Insert Lindy Thackston here: "pressdog got four new tires, a full load of fuel and sponge for when he pees himself and he's out!"
First observation: this car runs like crap at low speeds. Going down pit lane you could almost hear the engine sputtering "Can we go fast now? Can we go fast now? Can we go fast now?" Rumbling along at about 60 mph in an IndyCar is like forcing yourself to walk at 0.5 mph.
Out on to the apron and then Arie yanked the wheel right and BAM, we hit the bank and went up onto the track. So far so good. I expected the terror to start any second, but initially we were fine.
Since I was the first passenger of the day, I got treated to a bonus lap of tire warming. We did that little fishy back-and-forth thing drivers do to warm up their tires. Here's a note: that's not a ton of fun. They really rip the steering wheel right and left. It's way more aggressive than it looks on TV.
Couple straightaways of that and Arie seems happy, and I can see the tires are scuffed a little bit, so we start The Run.
If you want to know what it looks like, next time your TV shows an onboard view from a car, pick up your TV and shake it in front of your face. There you go. (Or watch one of the Indy Racing Experience's videos here.)
It's hard to see forward since the driver's head is right in front of yours, and you're pretty low in the car, but you can see out the sides fine and turn your head a bit with no problem. I spent a lot of the run looking down the track toward the infield. There are little handles right in front of you if you want to hold on tight.
Let's do this thing, Arie. Rock and roll baby.Coming out of four Arie hit a whole 'nother gear. I'm reasonably sure flame shot out the Dallara's ass in a Batmobile-like fashion as kicked in the afterburner. I swear I heard a sound of joy coming out of the Honda engine as it finally got to stretch out and run.
Going into turn 1 .. I'm a little concerned ... I'll be honest ... because we were reasonably high on the track, and there's a SAFER barrier coming up fast RIGHT effing THERE ... so turning would be great. Any time now, Arie. Just ease her on down ...
HELLLOOOOOOooooooo .... we dove into 1, down nearly to the apron and then back up the hill into two where Arie got back on the throttle (insert the sound of giggling joy from the engine here) and the back straight blurred by before we lifted and DOVE into three, down to nearly the apron, up out of four. Insert spastic jiggling onboard camera view here, and a DIVE into one again.
Coming through 2 the second time -- now fully up to speed -- I thought ... "any second the ass-end on this thing is going to come around." I could feel the centrifugal force pushing on the car so much that I was surprised when it didn't go ass-around.
But no, we're stuck to the track -- praise the wing makers and pass the ethanol. It's right about here, reveling in the miracle of downforce, I shocked myself and thought ... FASTER.
Then I wondered where Davey Hamilton (who was driving the other two-seater at the time) was and if we could draft/pass him. It is fortunate that I was not driving, because emboldened by the lack of death in the first two laps, I probably would have killed myself by lap three.
But cooler heads (Arie's) prevailed and after the third lap we dove onto the pit lane ... with a noticeable bump coming off the banking ... and decelerated back to the pits, until Arie just turned the car off and we coasted to a stop. The laps at Iowa were probably about 20 seconds long. We were probably doing 145 mph.
I was surprised that I wasn't terrified, honestly. But you're so strapped in there, that you don't get a sense that you are going to fly out of the car. And the car isn't sliding anywhere, so by the time you make the first corner, you're pretty sure you will survive it all. So the terror was not there. Also, not as many KILLER Gs as I expected. Again, you are strapped in so that helps, and you only go two or three laps so that helps. You can feel the pressure pushing the car up the track and the amazement that it stays put.
When I got out, I was dizzy just for a second, as my vestibular apparatus (thanks Jon Beekhuis!) tried to re-adjust to not going in circles any longer. You're not dizzy on the track, just dizzy when you stop and get out. And then just for a second or two. Crazy.
The crew dude snapped the fabulous photo of me above, and I staggered back to the trailer to change out of my fire suit.
Here's a video from the Indy Racing Experience of the typical trip around Iowa.
You can pay to ride the two-seater at many tracks. I think the 1.5-milers at Chicagoland, Kansas, Texas and Kentucky would be way fun (can you say "Get FLAT?"). You can also ride on a street road course including Watkins Glen, Edmonton, Toronto and Infineon and, of course, the big oval at IMS. Check the whole lineup HERE. The cost for three laps (sometimes less on a road course) is $499 ($109 if you do it at Walt Disney World Speedway). You can also DRIVE an IndyCar as well. Check it all out at IndyRacingExperience.com
Just don't be surprised if, after you figure out you're not going to die, you too get the Need for Speed.
pdog, Great story and we are glad you enjoyed your ride. Where do we send the drycleaning bill for your firesuit?
Posted by: Indy Racing Experience | July 02, 2009 at 08:47 AM
The sight of you in that racing suit has me all hot and bothered...how the hell am I going to get any work done today?
Posted by: Josh | July 02, 2009 at 08:54 AM
Wow - you even got a customized firesuit with a big yellow "Z" for Zahren. Bravo, Mr Just A Passenger!
Posted by: My Name Is IRL | July 02, 2009 at 09:14 AM
Well done, Dog. Very well done. I bow humbly before your artful storytelling. Now if you'll excuse me ...
/douses eyeballs with Clorox bleach
//still sees photo in mind's eye
///douses brain with Clorox bleach
Posted by: Roy Hobbson | July 02, 2009 at 09:17 AM
If I would have known, I would have quickly stuck an pressdog.com sticker on the nose of the car AND the fire suit. I recommend simply burning the suit and sending me the bill.
Posted by: pressdog | July 02, 2009 at 09:35 AM
Mr. Pressdog: Great story. And great timing. This is sure a welcome break from all the news of TG, street ovals and the imminent demise of the series.
Posted by: Mike Krapfl | July 02, 2009 at 10:23 AM
That picture deserves a special spot on the Pressdog Family mantle. Well done.
Posted by: Lackey | July 02, 2009 at 10:46 AM
Funny, funny stuff, P'dog...and I doubt anybody else could have given this good a retelling of the whole experience. I'm know it had to be a blast. Next time I 'spect you'll do the driving yourself, eh?
Posted by: Mike R | July 02, 2009 at 11:12 AM
Farm out p-dog! Flying with the dutchman! My day is enhanced.
It was as if I was there with you guys. You know, like a three seater.
I even had vestibular apparatus (had to cut and paste that one). But only for a second or two.
Happy Fourth dude.
Posted by: ramblinman | July 02, 2009 at 11:45 AM
I rode in the two-seater last year at IMS. Nearly 200 MPH on those long straightaways. If you can afford to drop that kind of coin (my ride was courtesy of one of our vendors) then I highly recommend it.
Posted by: Gurney Eagle | July 02, 2009 at 12:50 PM
I rode in the two-seater at WDW. It was an excellent ride—well worth the money!!! Would love to do it at Indy.
Posted by: Liz | July 02, 2009 at 05:44 PM
Awesome recount. Thanks for the story!
Posted by: Bickelmom | July 08, 2009 at 07:06 AM
Great story! Funny and well-written. I did the one-seater at IMS and was scared to death the first time I took a turn at speed...and those cars are much slower. You make me want to do the two-seater.
Posted by: George Phillips | July 08, 2009 at 10:02 AM