CARS ARE the logs in the fire of MOTOR office conversation. Occasionally itíll detour to semicolons, and an alarming percentage of banter is not fit for public reproduction. But reliably the babble circles back to what we all think of some car in the garage that week or similar.
This month we openly wondered why more people donít get involved in grassroots motorsport with their personal, road-registered performance cars. They might spend $50,000 on a new machine but unless itís backwards through some bushes, itíll never leave the public road. And itís a shame, because they donít know what theyíre missing.
Some years ago I did the Australian Motorkhana Championship and was surprised how painless a process it was to enter. The return on investment, from a fun perspective, was massive, and Iíve been itching to do it again since. Later I did the Finke Rally as co-driver for Bruce Garland (unlidding bottles of water when he was thirsty, rather than reading pacenotes, luckily for him). But again the formalities of getting me, a numpty, strapped beside Garland and ready to go, were a cinch.
It wasnít CAMS or organisers cutting corners Ė theyíd crossed their Ts and dotted their Is. The processes were just far simpler than I expected.
Obviously Iím wondering why more people donít go to church in front of the congregation here, but still we came up with some interesting theories why more punters donít front for supersprints, motorkhanas, hillclimbs, autocrosses and of course track days. Sure, thereís some expedited wear and tear on your car, and inevitably fees for the day, but surely these costs are minor to be able to experience your highly-developed performance car at its otherwise-never-touched limits. Youíve paid for all that engineering, after all.
You may as well use it.
Better yet, take some mates, youíll end up throwing a log on the conversation fire. Trust us, if it wasnít for racetracks weíd all have left the building long ago. Or more likely, just run out of things to talk about.