Indy ride sets pulse racing, stomach churning
Nick Lees
The Edmonton Journal
Thursday, July 24, 2008
CREDIT: Nick Lees/Edmonton Journal
Nick Lees gets a ride in a two-seater Indy car with driver Grant Ritchy.
EDMONTON - There's one thing I don't want to be when I grow up -- an Indy car driver.
The Dallara car's 3.5-litre, ethanol-powered engines generate more than 650 horsepower and I felt every hoofprint when I took off in one Wednesday.
I was pushed back hard into the seat in a car that accelerates from zero to 160 kilometres an hour in less than three seconds. That's about nine seconds quicker than it takes a Porsche 911 Turbo street car to reach the same speed.
"I've been stopped twice by the cops today," said driver Grant Ritchy from Indianapolis when he took me for a ride in a car with less than eight centimetres clearance above the road.
"They wanted to make sure I was street legal, if I had tires, lights, brakes, signals, that sort of thing."
He added that police stop him every day in his No. 9 Indy car converted for promotional trips. "I usually offer the cops a ride," Ritchy said. "They all say they'd love one, but they can't on duty."
The Dallara's brothers will hit the straightaway at City Centre Airport today at speeds in excess of 330 kilometres an hour.
I was initially disappointed when I arrived at the carpark at Rexall Place to see there wasn't the required team of 15 safety personnel that hover near the pits.
These speed demons would depend on the crew, who each must have 20 years of experience, if they were in a life-threatening situation. Like a fireball.
Instead of three paramedics, nine firefighters/ EMTs, two trauma doctors and one safety co-ordinator, I found Ritchy lying back enjoying the sun in the front cockpit of our two-seat, virgin-white-and-blue bullet.
I was barely able to squeeze into the cockpit.
It was 10 times tighter than the cockpit of a CF-18 fighter I rode in years ago.
Ritchy got out and helped/shoved me in, fastening seatbelts in a central lock.
"We have a Jim Beam promotional Indy car we take round some of the pubs in the U.S.," he said.
"Some of the guys crave a ride, but are too big to get into the car. Pub guys tend to be fairly large."
I didn't like the way he looked at me as he said that, but I felt better when he told me Indy drivers are very fit young men.
"They are fitter than football and basketball players," he said. "Their hearts might reach 200 beats a minute during a race. That's right up there with top endurance athletes.
"They must be physically capable of staying very focused while driving for two or three hours a day at between 150 and 200 miles (240 to 320 kilometres) an hour."
I told Ritchy I was very excited and I may have to go to the washroom during our ride. Surely drivers must answer when nature calls during a long race?
"I have no idea what they do," he said with a shrug. "Off the record, I'd say their pants might get wet."
He was more interested in telling me how drivers took on water. One touch of the $25,000 steering wheel in the proper place and a fountain of water shoots from a spout in their helmet.
They also touch the steering wheel to trim the car and talk to their team members. (Presumably to remind them to have a clean suit ready before they shake up Champagne at the finish line.)
I was in shock within moments of taking off down 118th Avenue, flying by vehicles at about the same level as car wheels and the steps of pickup trucks.
Kids waved at me as we roared by a bus stop. A couple of nurses blew me kisses. An elderly man waved his cane.
I felt sick and tried to yell to Ritchy that I thought we'd gone far enough. But he couldn't hear me above the roar of our engine.
We picked up more speed on Fort Road and then we must have been doing the speed limit on the Yellowhead Trail.
I felt the way I thought I'd feel in a space shuttle as it gathered speed.
I was delighted to see Rexall Place when we turned for home.
A handful of Indy fans were waiting for us. Most wanted rides. One kid asked me for my autograph.
I was about to tell him the real drivers were over at Capital Ex, but his dad was quicker and told him not to be so stupid.
nlees@thejournal.canwest.com
edmontonjournal.com
See Nick Lees and photographer Ryan Jackson take a ride down Wayne Gretzky Drive in a two-seater Indy car. Go to Videos.
© The Edmonton Journal 2008
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