Taming the devil

The smell of un-burned gasoline was wafting in the air, as she checked the tire pressure for the last time. It rose significant in the fifteen minutes before she stopped, as the tires warmed up and pressure had to be adjusted down. She then could feel the hot tarmac radiating heat onto her hand as she slotted the torque wrench, starting slow but increasing the force on the lever. A soft click protruding the night, not much louder than the titanium pipes crackling sound of cooling down, gave her more confidence, each time she heard it.

After all the other external checks were done, she sat inside but didn't strap into the belts yet, as she knew better. Three short and fast beeps told her that just now, a myriad of electrons were flowing through the ECU's processors, finding there way to do their magic. Line after line the computer went to show it's progress on the little LCD screen mounted in the foot department of the passenger seat. She wouldn't have time to look at it soon enough, but for now, each line was important.

"ZÜNDUNG" flashed up and she felt the adrenaline rushing into her gut, intensifying all senses. She closes her eyes and tries to keep track of the revolutions the engine went through, as she turns the ignition key, before it comes alive. It's always the 6th when it's pre-warmed.

Numbers dancing on the screen now, giving an idea about the engines condition. RPM swaying around 1180, oil pressure above 4 bar and would nearly double towards the end of the usable RPM band, located at just below 10 000 RPM. Different other sensors provide temperatures, air fuel ratio, angular velocities and angular tilt, injector load, injector cycle and cylinder filling grade. Too much, to make sense off, if you are not an ECU, just enough to get it responsive and angry.

Gentle pressure on the throttle reveals a clean but yet shy increase in RPM, boost pressure gauge approaching atmospheric pressure, indicated by the 0 on the gauge. A popping sound from the back, as the engine falls back to idle. Igniting still un-burned fuel vapors at the hot exhaust tip when it tangles with the oxygen enriched cold air. A press of a button and a whirling sound, she watched the intake temperature dropping about 8 degree, as tiny jet outlets in front of the inter-cooler spray a mist onto the fine girdles, cooling the air flowing through it dramatically after it has been compressed by the heavy modified turbocharger. RPM increasing slightly. Perfect.

Strapped into the seat-belt, a last deep breath as she put her foot into the two stage clutch and tugged the sequential shifter, *clonk*, into 1st. The warm and sticky 18"/295 semi slick on the rear would bite hard enough to either snap the shaft or stall the engine, if the clutch and throttle were to be used crudely. On her way up the ramp, she listens to the sounds the car makes. Now the exhaust gasses are pressing hard enough rough the equalized downpipe, to spin up the turbo. Fitted with a smaller exhaust housing, a modified compressor wheel, it will produce the hate needed for squeezing out every newton meter possible out of every injection cycle.

As the ramp straightens and no lights are visible front or back, she floors the trottle in 1st, doing around 70km/h. A short lag, hell breaks loose as the straight cut gears begin to whine louder. Infernal roar as the seat seems to try to swallow her body, the belts loosen up a bit but she can't move anyways. The two fuel pumps fighting the G-forces to deliver fuel to the front. As the RPM runs towards 8000, more a feeling than a fixed number, it's time to move the hand away from the steering wheel, shifting into 2nd as the engine approaches around 9600 rpm. Above, the rev-limiter would step in, protecting the engine's valves from floating and melting away as the spring would not be physically be able to close the valves, fast enough. As the electronic signals from the camshafts angular sensor begin to saturate with noise, the ECU is on a blind fly vigorously injecting the 108 octane race fuel spiced up with additives.

To deliver the boost topping out at 2.6 times the atmospheric level, into the next gear without lag, she must not use the clutch but instead lift the throttle a tiny bit. The parts in the transmission unload a split second before the dogged gears slide together and engage violent. Time seems to stop for a moment, as the car jumps forward with spinning wheels, stamping into the tarmac left and right front and back, like bundle of TNT was going off behind the the car. All the way through 2nd the wheels fight for traction while she fights to keep the car aligned, approaching 160 km/h, shifting into 3rd with another flat shift.

As the wheels gain traction from the down force directed from the rear spoiler and hood, the acceleration rate seems to skyrocket, making it hard to breath, shaking up her vision. The air screaming as it's split by the spoiler, forcing it apart, sucking it down, like an inverted air plane wing. The speedometer relentlessly approaches 220km/h, hello 4th gear! The acceleration becomes bearable. She's still alone on the road as every red light in front would become a safety issue now. She changes lanes to the left, just to be sure. This takes a couple hundred feet and as the car stabilizes, 5th gear is engaged, passing 270km/h. Flat shift done and right index finger on the switch mounted at the steering wheel's right truss. The water ejectors saturate the inter coolers fine channels and cool down the aluminium and thus the air flowing through, before the engine ingests it, fighting the air resistance the car now has to overcome. It's time for the magic 6th gear when she hit's 300km/h. Fuel injector flow rate is now maxed out, delivering what is physically possible to the hungry chambers of the inline 6 RB30DET, water ejectors still half a tank left, indicated by a yellow blurry light below the boost gauge turning on.

"You're going to make it this time" she think's, as she feels the dopamine rushing into her system. 310...320...330...never been faster...340!!! The car's suspension begins to oscillate a bit but letting of the throttle in panic would be unwise now. She kept her willpower and a quick peak on the GPS screen told her she passed 350 km/h, covering the distance of more than a football field a second. The car would keep on going but the tires would not for much longer.

Slowly lifting the throttle, a tear of joy runs down her cheek, mixing with the feeling of accomplishment. There is yellow flickering reflecting from the downside of the rear spoiler visible in the rear mirror, indicating the rich air fuel mix igniting at the back of the car. A safety measure to keep the cylinder walls cooled and lubricated, not a show factor indeed.

The fuel would not last towards home, so she takes the last chance to exit the autobahn, cool down the engine, get some fuel, a snickers. She earned it. Later, the statistics would indicate the fastest run this chassis has ever seen and the fastest speed ever traveled on tires. +1g angular acceleration.

Bubbly tires that engulfed stones into it already. On her way back, she stops at the ramp to look at the four thick black lines leading all the way up to the autobahn. Next summer, we crack the 3.5 second barrier 60-125mph, she thinks. Second gear to third gear needs a fuel map adjustment. Less is more in this case, she thinks.

But not now, now we rest.

a reply to: ThatDamnDuckAgain

Exhilarating Acceleration!

Is that where this picture is from?

Try nitrogen in the tires. Supposed to not expand due to heat. That's what my Dad said.

Somewhat sexual.

a reply to: rom12345

Somewhat?

a reply to: ThatDamnDuckAgain

Erm...

As a female who was a mechanic for some time...

This is tuner porn.

I ABSOLUTELY loved it.

Although now I have to get the big block beast out of its cage this weekend and think about the story as I drive...

Just....

Excellent.

a reply to: Lumenari

Although now I have to get the big block beast out of its cage this weekend and think about the story as I drive...

Have fun.

I had a '68 Dodge Coronet 500, bored out to 550 for a while.
Could only go 100 because the drive shaft was not quite straight.

Once I got the drive shaft replaced, this guy borrowed it. Drove it to a town 200 miles away. The generator belt broke and he drove it 'til the battery died. Then he just left it in the middle of the city street and walked away from it.

I went down to get it, but the towing, impound and other fees was more cash than I had, and they wouldn't take a check or card. Bye bye muscle car.

Some friends just aren't worth it.

a reply to: pthena
No, I lifted that one from the internet. It has to be from a Formula car, looking at the free standing wheels without a chassis. I did lot's of pictures and videos last year but did not get them back yet. Different story though.

About the nitrogen, we did that for a while, I know the practice from other 'teams'. But at some point it was not a topic anymore, we just used normal pressurized air. I don't know why honestly.

a reply to: Lumenari
I am glad you enjoyed it. I thought it may be too cheese and no doubt I discovered a lot of grammar errors and misspellings, when I read it again a few minutes ago.

Have fun with the ride and stay safe! I suppose it is aspirating which is it's own world and I learned my first "not street legal behavior" lessons on a aspirating RWD engine (BMW E30).

Once I got to see an old US car, aquamarine blue and the engine although huge, looked so lost in that big motor compartment. The car was massive compared to our German cars that is why it was so interesting. It had one of these round air filters that look like these old video rolls for projectors on top of the motor, motor was painted red and had that huge propeller on the front.

The front had a single arrow or spread out "v" pointing down with a kind of flag sitting between legs of the "v" . I think it was an US car. Lot's of chrome and the lights and I think rear fins. I had the pictures I was allowed to make, I know it but I can not get to it now.

a reply to: pthena

Once I got the drive shaft replaced, this guy borrowed it. Drove it to a town 200 miles away. The generator belt broke and he drove it 'til the battery died. Then he just left it in the middle of the city street and walked away from it.

I went down to get it, but the towing, impound and other fees was more cash than I had, and they wouldn't take a check or card. Bye bye muscle car.

Some friends just aren't worth it.

What a jerk! Where is the respect towards the owner, where is the respect towards the car?

The euphemism, are maybe just my dirty mind.
Is this actually about a car at all.

a reply to: ThatDamnDuckAgain

No, I lifted that one from the internet.

What struck me most about that picture was the material, gravel and such, embedded in the rubber. That hot rubber must become rather soft! That's a bit scary.

a reply to: ThatDamnDuckAgain

What a jerk! Where is the respect towards the owner, where is the respect towards the car?

Well the guy did end up in jail for other things.
Best not to associate with people who don't respect you or your stuff.
I know that now. Life lessons learned.

I so wanted to try 120 mph and above!
Now I'm stuck with personal top of 100.

a reply to: rom12345
There's not much dirty minds that could top mine on this planet, which is not necessary a good thing at all since it destroyed a friendship before.

It is about a car and I may have conveyed a vivid picture, describing my feelings, I mean her feelings. She is sexy though, I mean the car, not her.

a reply to: pthena
If you went above 120mph for a while and go back to normal, limited roads (60mph max) it's like you're creeping along on a parking lot. The eyes and head become accustomed to the speed in a short time.

I should appreciate the freedom that we have more, when it is about unlimited speed. But to be honest the driving licence here is a bit harder to get than in the USA, compared with what I have seen on youtube and TV, but I rather not make a final decision because it's all third hand knowledge.

a reply to: pthena
What you see in the Formula car picture is a lot of pickup from the track. Yes the rubber get's soft and if you hunt street tires with enough horses over a track, it's normal that the edges melt over. They should not be used anywhere else then because they become somewhat unsafe in wet conditions.

a reply to: ThatDamnDuckAgain

If you went above 120mph for a while and go back to normal, limited roads (60mph max) it's like you're creeping along on a parking lot. The eyes and head become accustomed to the speed in a short time.

Now I'm remembering that car. 72-85 mph was the sweet spot.
Car's like "Yeah! I can do this all day. How 'bout you?"
Then I was like "Yeah! I hear ya!"

Licenses are really easy to get over here.
I voluntarily quit driving because I judged myself not safe 10 years ago. But I never had any problem renewing my license ever. Makes me wonder how safe the streets really are over here.

My mind wanders a lot. I quit driving after the first time I realized I was driving on a side walk. People texting while driving scares the hell out of me.

a reply to: pthena

That's very responsible of you to acknowledge it for yourself and give up a freedom. It shows character and wisdom.

People texting and people racing each other on public roads, or cut corners, drive irresponsible or intimidate others should be removed from the street. I have been accused of the irresponsible part here by a member but what they don't know or fathom is that speeds like this are normal every day on the autobahn and yet we have less deaths.

Just because someone can not imagine that speed does not give them the right to judge on others. With such runs, a lot of preparation is done.

Then there is this when one never bordered on the physical limits (I did that in courses, three step racing licence course) they have no clue how to react at all, making them much more dangerous than someone like me.