My One Hour of Glory

"Drive as fast as you can around this curve, and when I signal I want you to brake as hard as you can. "

Them are fightin words if I ever heard any, and the first time I tried this I braked like an old Lady. Actually I did it the second time, too, only moreso like an Accountable Adult - gently turning the wheel to avoid the wall of cones. But the third time I nailed it in a way that would make Will smile with glee. I crushed that brake pad so hard that I thought I'd break the damn lever. But my Stuttgart Stallion took it in stride, and brought me from 90 km / h to 0 in less than 15 feet. Holy Geez that was awesome. And I was just gettin' started.

My birthday present this year was extremely unique and a sexy way of kicking and screaming into The 30-somethings. For one whole hour, I commandeered (legally) an atomic-bomb red 2006 Porsche Carrera S and careened it around a specially-designed racing track the way you're not supposed to drive: hard and fast. Sure, I took it easy around the curves that scared the bejeezus outta me, but as soon as I had a clear shot ahead I punched the gas and didn't look back. The track is wet? It's 36 degrees F outside? I'm driving an 80,000+ Euro car with ZERO insurance on a track that was designed to mimic five of the most challenging curves of modern tracks? Exhilaration vandalizing every stone in my head, each twist leaving another spatter of paint obscuring .. well, whatever was there before.

No better than to learn the track from Sebastian, my Porsche Racing Instructor, who I fondly remember leading me out of a tight corner and saying "now go as fast as you can." God I love this guy. The first moment of sadness that day was watching him crouch down into his midnight-blue 911 Turbo huddled adjacent to our 911 Carreras. The second moment came when I realized there was no way in Hell I was going to keep up with that guy! Hey, I never said I stopped trying. He introduced me to the Bus Stop, the slalom thru the row of cones, the tight curves, The Hill and subsequent down-right-sharp curve, the tight s curve that I may have fishtailed out of (and recovered nicely I might add) when I asked for a little too much torque. The last moment of sadness arrived as I realized I waited 30 years to do this. All that sadness washed away remembering that my wife gave me this opportunity. And I Prost!'d this best I knew how: I ate it all up and left nothing behind but an awful smell Sebastian called "a Porsche Driver's Chanel No 5".

That tour may have been only one hour by your standards, but in my head it was hours of analysis reading the Carrera's responses to all of my questions. I ripped through that track testing the steering's range, the suspension's forgiveness, the strength of my hands holding that steering wheel, and also a fellow student's patience as I kept urging him to drive faster. At the end I walked away with electricity in my feet and the re-aquaintenace with an AMA-acceptable heart rate. But in usual form I thanked Sebastian properly and reminded him that we'll be seeing each other again. Soon.

Since we never received the official "ticket" for the Porsche Experience, there's still a second chance..

http://www.porsche-leipzig.com/en/leipzigangebote/leipzigpilot/default.aspx