While I'm sure others will chime in with some run-by-run analysis and the points chase, my event recap will be more of a Roadkill-esque story: Can this largely unproven POS13 drive 120 miles through mountain roads, get flogged at an event, and make it back home again?
Event Recap:
I had the car all packed up and ready to go, leaving around 6 in the morning. I had briefly considered that the headlights weren't particularly aimed at anything useful, but figured with just a half hour of pre-dawn, and arriving home before dark, they'd just be there so other folks could see me... so I didn't bother. I pushed the car out of the garage as not to create an early morning ruckus for the neighbors, fired it up on the way down the driveway, and was off!
Living up in the midwest, everything was distanced in time on an interstate, and directions were quite simple: Hop on 44 or 70 or 35 for some duration of time, arrive at your destination that time later. Here in Virginia, it's much more complicated to get places, and multiple series of backroads are often quicker than trying to get to the interstates. So my journey started on many of these curvy 45-50mph backroads as I worked my way up to 66. The car was running well, everything seemed within spec on temps and fluids, no weird smells or sounds. The brief stint on the interstate was the first time I'd gotten the car into 5th gear for any period of time, and other than an inop speedometer, it handled the higher speeds just fine. After I got off the interstate 20 miles later, I stopped to check fluids, make sure my alternator was still charging, etc. Everything looked OK, and as I was pulling back onto the rural highway that goes into West Virginia, I caught sight of a white WRX full of rallycross-related stickers. Great! I had a general idea of how to get to the site, but not the specific entrance. So I followed him in... at about 8 car-lengths back as the brake pedal was quite spongy, and while I could get the car to whoa, there wasn't a ton of feel there, and any hard braking events usually ended with a bit of lockup. This highway winds up and down some decent grades, and has a few switchbacky turns.
When we turned off the highway, it was as if a rallycross Nirvana was unfolding in front of me. Nestled in the mountain ridges and beautiful views, was an undulating field or twists and turns, cambered from years of use, in a tight pattern perfect for Rallycross. Next to it was a small road course, and giant asphalt skidpad. It was like The Sound of Music meets Motorsport.
Unpacking the car went quickly, and as I was wandering the paddock back to my car, I noticed it'd acquired a nice puddle underneath! A quick search showed that the upper radiator hose was either loose, or cracked near the clamp. I was able to cinch it up closer, move the clamp down the hose a bit, and tighten it down, and that mostly cured it.
I miraculously passed tech, and was whisked off to the drivers meeting. A quick drive up the hill to grid confirmed that this was, indeed, the wrong suspension setup for the day. Way too much spring with no dampening made things a bit 'bouncy'.
For most of this ordeal leading up to the event, I had a strange amount of trust in the car, my abilities to troubleshoot, and my (poor) choices of prepping the car. However, during the driver's meeting, all that optimism and trust began to erode. Over half of the driver's meeting was to address one of the site's unique characteristics: sharp rocks that would break off during the day, and puncture... everything. We were told that if you had street tires the rocks would puncture sidewalls if you were at all sideways. The snows I'd chosen were bumped up to 45psi cold, had nice voids and edges for grip, but offered no sidewall resiliency to rocks. Stories around the group were tales of sharp rocks going through the footwells, puncturing fuel lines, going through skidplates to attack oil pans, etc. One part of basic rallycross preparation I'd overlooked was to to even fit a skidplate.... I even had the material sitting in the garage, just needed more time. So as we took our parade lap, I was a bit nervous to see what was out there.
After the parade lap and my first run, I began to realize that this surface was like nothing I'd raced on before. Most of my midwestern venues were basically fields: Decent dirt with a layer of grass on top. The day typically went with some slipperyness of removing the grass layer, then cutting into the soil to find grip, and as the day went on there'd be a 'line' for grip, and some loose dirt on the outside. What was coined "Moon Dust" was different entirely. The base of this course was hard packed clay with the aforementioned rocks, but on top was a fine silt of clay dust far fluffier than then even the off-line loose dirt I was accustomed to. It was also fairly deep, and stuck to the racing line. This made picking a line and adjusting the angle of the car a hilarious exercise. It was like driving on sand or snow, but with brief moments of grip if you dug down enough in just the right spot.
So the day became a battle of who could react to their car and catch the undesirable under or oversteer fastest. This was something I did not excel at 
But damn if it wasn't fun! I was pogo'ing off the bumps and dips trying to predict the moments that I'd have the suspension loaded up and I'd dig through the dust. Often times it'd catch mid-corner and throw me off into the inside cones (sorry cornerworkers!), sometime's it'd be the fronts and and it'd rotate HARD. The speed of the corners and straights had me at the top of 1st gear, so I often found myself sideways with the throttle pegged, just trying to fling the steering wheel in a direction that'd keep me on the track. Every now and then, it'd somehow come together, and it'd feel right and it'd hook all the way through a corner, with just enough rotation, pulling down the straight, then hooking into the next.
So I should mention that it was HOT, and dusty, there was intermittent wind, but from seemingly random directions. There'd often be corners where I'd run into dust clouds from previous runs, I even roosted myself from one corner into another! This is the only time I've ever had to use windshield wipers on course to clear my window of dust.
Working the course, even though my corner was an uneventful one was a toil in the heat and dust, and I had gone through much of the water I brought prior to the lunch break. Thankfully someone brought a cooler with some extra water bottles (Thanks!), and mercifully some clouds arrived in the afternoon with some moments of rain to drop the dust down.
One neat trick I saw from my corner's previous crew, they'd put a radial line with their shoe to mark the cone location, and one across it to mark the base of the pointer. I'm not sure if this is common to the region, but is simpler than flags, lasts longer than spray paint, and made them easy to replace when hit. Certainly something I'll take with me for future rallycross adventures!
The car didn't skip a beat! The engine happily played in the higher revs all day. The temps stayed right at the thermostat opening temp with the electric fans. The dampers weren't any more blown than when I showed up, the oil pan was intact, and the electrons all stayed in the car doing laps, and each tire avoided the sharp rocks and had all the psi's. The only random issue I came across was the hydraulic systems. Despite the new clutch master and slave cylinder, the fluid had turned black, and my travel was almost non-existent. It made it tricky to maneuver in grid without spinning the tires like an idiot. Also the brakes are still spongy, and there's a definite idle drop by pressing the pedal, so I need to hunt down another vacuum leak with the booster or MC. Oh, and the fluid was 'jumping' out of top of the reservoir , and down on to the spot I had to rust repair already. So I need to figure that out too.
With all that done, I needed a shower and a cold beer! I didn't book any local accommodations (are there any?), so I packed up the car, cleaned the windows and taillights off, and prepared to head out for the 2 hour drive back in this completely inconspicuous livery:
There was some rain coming in, so I went to turn on the headlight to find that my tape and ziptie fix on the headlight rod had failed... so I added a new bit of tape and ziptie and hit the road.
The cloud of dust that came off the car as I pulled onto the highway was epic, and I pulled away to keep in front of the stormfront as I headed back east.
Well, it caught me about halfway back, and while I was prepared for a bit of rain, nothing prepared me for this. It was biblical. The kind of thing they invent new colors for on the radar screen. The sky went completely dark, and my ill-aimed headlights did nothing, I was navigating by lightning strike until the rain was so hard I couldn't keep the window from having a 1/4 of water on it with the wipers on high. The 240 has frameless windows, and the rain was so hard, and wind so high it was pressurizing the gap and shooting inside onto me. The road was flash flooding, and the ditches were all overflowing onto the roadway. There's no car I'd rather be in than an S13 with skinny full tread depth snow tires in these conditions, and they certainly kept me from hydroplaning everywhere, but I put far more driving talent into making it home than I did at the day's RallyCross. It must have been following me home, because I was in the thick of it for about 40minutes, trudging along at 30mph, splashing water over the roof of the car, dodging downed trees and trying to stay in the lane, and straining to see anything past my bumper.
The pressure of the multiple water crossings were enough to blow the front turn signal out, hardware nowhere to be found. Yet, the car still got me home!
Exhausted from the day's heat, the stress of the untested car, and the harrowing drive back, I decided to throw in the towel for Sunday's part of the doubleheader and just get some rest instead.
. I did finally receive both mufflers, so in the next couple weeks I'll likely get under there and weld up a higher clearance and quieter exhaust.
So I did a bit of surface prep to let the 'trons find thier way home.
