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LeMons—Altamont 2008

Sunday


I stayed up until about two a.m., writing yesterday’s post and reading the updates and comments on Jalopnik. Stephan had a hard time getting to sleep, too. After we got back from the track on Saturday, we decided to go to a Mexican restaurant that one of my wife’s colleagues had recommended. Casa Orozco was just about perfect for the occasion. I think we’d all recommend it if you’re in Livermore.


Once back at the hotel after dinner, the consensus was that a good comedy would hit the spot. We settled on Superbad, and it certainly did the trick. Puerile and vulgar, but very funny.


We got to the track around eight-thirty, and shortly after we arrived, Jay Lamm came on the PA indicating that we’d soon be having the driver’s meeting and that racing would resume at 9:30.


At the driver’s meeting, Jay confirmed what had been reported overnight: The CHP investigation of the accident concluded that the driver of the #39 car, Cort Summerfield, lost consciousness on the short straight before the start/finish line and went straight on at the turn, striking the concrete wall on the outside of the track. They believe he was dead before he hit the wall, although the precise cause of death has not yet been determined. There no indication of mechanical failure.


Cort was 47 years old.


One of the commenters on Jalopnik suggested paying tribute to Cort with a marking on the remaining race cars. I thought that was a stellar idea, so we had Stephan and Robert stop to pick up some blue and orange spray paint on the way to the track. We painted some stripes on the front fenders, a 39 on the side of the car, and more stripes on the tailgate. I took the cans to Jay and asked him to announce that they were available to any team who wanted to do something similar. We were all really pleased to see that the majority of the cars had some blue and orange or other tribute to Cort when they went out on the track.


Thomas, who had just gotten in the car when the red flag came out on Saturday, was back in the car and eager to race. He did a fantastic job and had us solidly in the top 30 by the time his stint was up. At this point we were as high up as we’d been, sitting in 26th. He also threw down the gauntlet by improving on our team’s fast lap which I’d set on Saturday. He turned his nose up at my 58.7s and set a blistering time of 57.4s.


Fiid was up next, and because he couldn’t stay for the whole day, this would be his only turn at the wheel. He did a really solid job, and consolidated our top 30 standing. As his stint was coming to an end, it was unclear exactly where we were, but it was promising.


I got back in the car after Fiid, determined to reclaim the team fast lap. Soon after I got back on track, it was clear that the relatively laid-back racing I’d experienced at the start of the race was no longer happening. It was all hustle and bustle out there. Even so, it was still pretty clean, and I felt confident pressing on. It felt like I was passing more cars than were passing me, but you never know if the cars you’re passing are for position or just backmarkers you’re lapping again.


As my hour wore on, I was beginning to feel the effects of not having eaten any breakfast and the fumes from other cars’ burning oil and coolant. I admit that I didn’t mind the relatively frequent yellow-flag periods.


Eventually, my time was up, and I turned on the pit light to let them know I would be coming in. Unfortunately, I overcooked my entry into the second-to-last turn as I was going up the inside of a gray Merkur XR4Ti. The side of my car slammed into the side of his. He was, shall we say, a bit salty about this. I couldn’t blame him. As I headed for the track exit, he made a big swerve at me to express his displeasure.


Back in the pits, after Stephan had gotten strapped in, I warned him that the driver of the Merkur was going to be pissed at him. Just as I was saying this, said pissed driver pulled into his own pit, just a few down from us. There was a lot of scowling and fingers pointing in my direction as I walked over to apologize. Did I mention that he was about six-four and two-seventy-five? Although he was still clearly peeved, he accepted my handshake and my apology. After the race, he found me and let me know there were no hard feelings. I appreciated that.


With Stephan on the track, I moseyed down to peep the standings, hoping that we were higher up—and that I’d done enough to reclaim fast lap. Check and check. We were up to 19th, our first time in the top 20, and I’d stopped the clock at 56.026s. I’m not too cool to admit that I was mighty pleased about that.


Stephan seemed to be the most hesitant to get back in the car under the circumstances, but he’d taken some time to in the morning to settle his thoughts, and decided that he would race again. I’m glad he did, and I’m know he is, too. Immediately, he would later report, he felt more confident and faster. Unfortunately, he soon found himself unable to shift into 2nd gear. He stopped on an unused section of track right in front of where we were sitting to figure things out and eventually got going again, but came right into the pits. At that point, we had no idea what was wrong with the car, and weren’t sure that our race would be going much further.


We determined that the reverse-lockout plate had shifted a bit. This piece also guides you into first and second. Thomas bent the plate back into a better position with some big channelock pliers, and off Stephan went.


While Stephan was finishing up his hour, I wandered off to get some food and check out some of the other teams. This was very necessary since I hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before. I guess I lost track of the time, though, because as I neared our pit, I heard my teammates yelling at me to hurry up, because the car was in and they were fueling it up. Mason needed to be strapped in and what have you. So, I set my burger down in the back of my car and pitched in.


As I mentioned yesterday, Mason seems determined to shed the Captain Slow nickname. I’m not sure he’ll succeed, but based on his driving this time out, he certainly wasn’t the slowest of us. He was making good time and, as best we could tell without live timing information, keeping us about where we were in the standings—the mid 20s.


The #31 Taurus of Delinquent Racing gave us a refresher course in not counting our chickens before they hatch. As Mason was taking his line into the last corner of the infield section of the course, a tight, downhill, off-camber right-hander that was very inviting for storming up the inside when making a pass, #31 didn’t quite get his braking finished before the turn. The car slammed into our right front corner. This was the same corner where I banged into the Merkur during my stint.


It didn’t take long for Mason to notice that something wasn’t right with the Volvo. He came in, and we found the right front wheel exhibiting a whole lot of excess negative camber. After the wheel was removed, we saw that strut had been bent at the base, tilting the hub and forcing the inside of the tire into contact with the strut. The sidewall of the tire was melting from the heat, and strut housing was down to bare metal.


We tried applying some force to bend the strut back into decent geometry, but it was having none of it. Someone, Mason I think, had the bright idea of seeing if any of the other Volvo-running teams had a spare strut we could use. Mason took off for the Black Metal V8olvo team and we discovered how lucky we really are. They did have a spare strut because they’d modified their front suspension to accommodate their Ford V8 engine swap. In fact, they had two. But only one was useable—the right one! Big thanks to those damned Jalops and the rest of the Black Metal crew for the Swedish solidarity.


We swapped our strut insert, spring, and ball joint to the borrowed housing, and buttoned everything back up. We’d had to disconnect the brake lines to replace the strut, so we did a quick bleed and were back in business. Thomas—again—lead the charge, but everyone pitched in, including Chris from Pit Crew’s Revenge (the CalTrans car). Sometimes it feels good to get your hands greasy, you know? T said it was the fastest he’d ever changed a strut in his life.


We sent Mason back out for the rest of his stint, and there were no apparent ill effects from collision. He only had about ten minutes left, so Robert got ready to get in for his second turn in the car, which would also be the last hour of the race. We gave him some advice that boiled down to this:


Don’t wreck the car. If someone seems like they really want to get by you, let them have it.


I heard him repeating this to himself as he walked away.


Mason was soon back into the pits, and Robert was cinched into the car to bring la Polpetta Svedese to the finish line. As the hour counted down, he kept his nose clean, and my attention gradually drifted to the battle for the overall win.


The Eyesore Pimpin’ #11 CRX had been superfast and in the lead for Saturday. On Sunday, they began to have some cooling issues that I think were contact-related. This led to overheating, and, two replacement radiators later, a blown head gasket. While they were still running, they were swapping the lead with the #7 Malibu (I think) of Spirit of San Diego. This hunk of Eighties GM metal was also very fast and seemed like a lock for the win after Eyesore Pimpin’ finally called it quits.


But, again, I was counting those little chicks...


With about seven minutes to go until the checkered flag, they coasted to a halt where the course came off the oval and into the Esses just inside the back straight. We weren’t sure how many laps the second-place car, Krider Racing: Death Proof’s #13 Integra, would need to make up, but a lap later, they took the lead as they crossed the start/finish line. Immediately after, the course went yellow to clear the #7.


One of the push trucks got the #7 restarted, and the race was on again. Krider Racing ran out the clock and took a come-from-behind win. Coincidentally, they were in the pit next to us, so we got to watch their victory celebration close up.


We were pretty happy ourselves. The bent strut cost us pretty dearly, though, dropping us to 26th of 89 cars. We managed 411 laps which raised more than $2,500 for Friends of the San Francisco Public Library. Combined with the straight donations that we got for the library, Bernal Dads Racing helped the Friends raise more than $3,500. Jay Lamm had originally agreed to donate half of our entry fee to FSFPL, but we asked him to put that money toward the fund for Cort Summerfield’s family.


We started packing up, went to the awards ceremony, put our car on the trailer, and headed out. Alas, the LeMons adventure was not yet finished for a few of us.


As I was driving down 580 toward San Francisco, I saw a LeMons car that had broken free of its trailer, stopped by a tree alongside the highway. I found out later that no one and nothing was hurt. If only I could say the same.


A few miles down the road, the traffic consistently gets stop-and-go before the 580/680 interchange. I was in the number three lane and saw another LeMons car to my left. As I turned to look ahead again, I found that the traffic in my lane had come to a complete stop. I braked and swerved, but my left front fender caught the right rear of the car in front. No one was hurt, but my Fit was no longer fit for driving. The poor thing barely has 5000 miles on it.


Fortunately, I was able to reach Stephan and he circled back. After we were finished with the CHP and the car had been moved to a safe spot, we transferred everything from my car to Stephan’s and finally got on the road for a blissfully uneventful ride home.


Many thanks to Jay and the rest of the LeMons team; Altamont Motorsports Park staff; and our families. A big hug for my teammates: Fiid, Mason, Robert, Stephan, and Thomas. A tip of the hat to our LeMons competitors who make the event almost as much a family reunion as a race. A raised glass to our sponsors:


Stray Bar

Home San Francisco

Chloe’s Closet

Martha & Bros. - Cortland

The Good Life Grocery

Four Star Video

IPD

@ Signs


Finally, a quiet moment to remember Cort Summerfield, our LeMons brother, and for his family.


If you’d like to help his family, the LeMons crew will soon have up a page with a memorial fund at their site:


24 Hours of LeMons

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