After two-and-a-half months off, GT World Challenge at Road America didn’t just welcome me back. It kicked my door in wearing full tactical gear and screamed SURPRISE!
I showed up eager to get driving again, but apprehensive about how much work I had to do in very little time. I had to remember how to thrash around a GT3 car at speed, while trying to remember the 17-step nuclear codes needed to operate the steering wheel.
Then the gearbox failed. Sick.
Wright Motorsports and Porsche Motorsport North America descended on Electric Dory like a swarm of EMTs and got her fixed up overnight. We hit the track Saturday morning for what would be our only dry practice session with a fully functioning car. 20 minutes each to figure it out.
Then the skies opened, and we got a nice little wet practice to cap off the day. Exactly what you need to build confidence after spending a few months off.
Back to School
Clearly some self-development happened in that time off, because there were no tears, no panic, just acceptance and a thirst to learn.
I treated qual like the practice time it was for me, and was rewarded by dropping another second off my time. Did I light the world on fire? Absolutely not. But I was also right near others who had four or five times the recent seat time. I was really looking forward to a nice long stint in the race to come back up to speed and put it all together.
Pick a Lane, Any Lane
By Turn 6, that plan went flying across the track. A car went into a tank slapper in front of me. I crossed my fingers, picked a lane, and somehow made it through. We went under yellow.
I prepared myself for the restart, and away we went. I tried to move forward but couldn’t find a path through. Then, entering Canada, I looked up and said “he’s not making that corner” and threw myself out of the way. Still not sure if that was the right call in that moment, but I figured I’d rather take it up with myself in the car than with the race director in my garage. A few moments later, someone got into some trouble in Turn 5 and we went yellow again for the second time in two laps.
It must look nice and relaxing under yellow, but the reality is it’s like being inside of an exhaust pipe that’s navigating a 20-ft swell in the Drake Passage. There’s no escape from the fumes in a sealed cockpit, and the weaving and acceleration and braking to keep energy in the tires had me wishing I brought my airsick bag onboard.
The Kink in the Plan
Finally, we took the restart. The pent-up aggression after several months off was really apparent. We were two wide in the carousel, and the Kink was approaching at 135 mph.
Right as I turned in, I saw shrapnel and cars spinning. I thought about a quick dive left but saw so much debris. Then the dust completely obscured the track. I looked up and saw that there was no one behind me and decided the safest thing to do was whoa the thing down and wait for the dust to settle.
I picked my way through the remnants of four cars, hoping everyone was okay, and trying not to run over anything and get a puncture.
It’s not what you want to see. I’m a racer, I want to move forward and fight for my positions. But I was reminded in that moment that to finish first, first you must finish. And that sometimes, discretion really is the better part of valor.
I got 17 minutes on fresh tires before I handed off the car. With the front-end damage I picked up, I really struggled to adapt to the change in balance. I did my best but it was clear that adaptability was not quite there – a great lesson to take away from the weekend.
All the Wright Calls, ft. Thomas Merrill
Wright Motorsports had an incredible strategy, and got me track position with some excellent calls and perfect pit stops. I handed off the car to Thomas Merrill P6 in class, having gained 10 positions.
Then Thomas really blew my mind. He got in a car that was, in his own words, “shaking like an addict” and put on a show. He didn’t just kill it at the restart moving that car up and holding pace with the leaders. For 40 minutes he defended from two of the most formidable GT3 racers, and held off Phillip Ellis’ Mercedes at the line by just 0.023 seconds. Watching him soak up the pressure and execute so flawlessly was one of the most inspiring things I’ve ever seen. I’m honored to share a car with him.
Hard Charger
We crossed the line 4th in Pro-Am and 6th Overall – an unbelievable result considering we started P21. We were awarded Hard Charger for gaining 15 positions, some through attrition, some through strategy, and some through Thomas’ formidable drive. It was truly a team effort.
And for the first time I know that I was an important part of that effort. I didn’t set the fastest lap or pass a ton of cars. I made smart decisions, protected the car and our race, and came out with our third top-5 finish of the season.
What I’m Taking Away
For a long time, I thought being a useful part of a race team meant being the person making the big moves. The person sending it. The person gaining five positions in one corner and doing something that makes everyone watching the timing screen sit up a little straighter.
Road America reminded me that sometimes the biggest contribution you can make is knowing when not to make the big move.
There’s still plenty I need to work on. The two-and-a-half months off showed me exactly where the rust was, and the race showed me that I need to get better at adapting when the car (and the circumstances) stop behaving the way I want them to.
But I also learned something I probably needed to learn more than anything else. Racing isn’t always about proving how brave you are. Sometimes it’s about having the judgment to know when bravery has crossed the line into stupidity
Sometimes you lift. Sometimes you wait. Sometimes you take the ugly option because you’re thinking about the next corner, the next lap, the next stint—and, hopefully, the checkered flag.
I came to Road America wanting to prove I could still drive a GT3 car after a long break. I left feeling like I’d learned a little more about how to race one. And maybe that’s the better result.
Next up: Barber Motorsports Park, a.k.a. the Alabama Rollercoaster. I’m hoping the only rollercoaster I ride there is the one with actual track limits.
Show up. Find the gaps. Close them. Repeat.