Performance Car’s two runners in Britain’s only 24-hour race, the Willhire 24-Hours at Snetterton in June, had a very exciting time. Our BMW M3 won Class B after a faultless run and was a superb fourth overall – Performance Car
For the M3 team, the nitty gritty had started a couple of weeks before with a practice session at Snetterton to try the aluminum long range fuel tank and set the car up for the heavy fuel load it would have to carry. Working on the premise that one gallon of fuel weighs 7.5lb, it is obvious that the 25 gallon maximum fuel load allowed can play havoc with the handling of a saloon car. First attempts with the M3, when the tank proceeded to leak like sieve, were not encouraging. M3 chief mechanic Paddy Gibson swore under his breath as well as on top of it, while ladling out gallons of the lethal golden fluid from the boot of the car, and muttering something about bag tanks.
The Sierra meanwhile was undergoing basic training, or rather its crew was. The big endurance racing tank was still to be fitted so this was merely a shake down for drivers. The day was also a press day, and regular driver Morgan gave Jeremy Walton a run round the circuit to demonstrate how things should be done in a car graced with inherent understeer followed by power oversteer, plus a little turbo lag into bargain. Walton found it interesting (the circuit was damp) and emerged white faced and a lot wiser having experience a couple of high speed spins, form the passenger seat.
All character building stuff.
Meanwhile, work with the M3 progressed, holes were bunged up, tyres were swapped and testing continued. McHale and Sands comfortably managed to lap in the one minute 24 second bracket with a third fuel load. Somehow, I couldn’t manage better than 1:25.4 and ended the day depressed. The car, though, was tidy in the extreme at that speed, never touching a kerb, never crashing over run off strips, which damages the bearings, and never having to endure heavy braking. It was the last point that would finally work to our advantage.
At the end of the day, the M3 went back to have the tank modified and undergo a rethink, while the Sierra returned to its Mallory Park stable for final endurance preparations. The team would have to test the big tank on Friday 19 June, the day before the race.
A week later, the ‘phone rang and Sands announced that we were booked in to test the M3 again on Thursday 18. This we duly did and it proved to be something of a saving grace. In the meantime the car had been on the rolling road at Steve McHale’s company, Machtech Tuning, had had the dampers reset to soften it up and more Pirelli P600s had been buffed down to the three millimetres tread depth needed for production racing.
By Thursday evening work and testing on the M3 was complete and we put it back in its box. Retuning the injection had given us about 14mpg instead of eight, while the Cosworth Sierras could reckon on between four and six mpg. But many teams hadn’t even arrived at that point, and were counting on using the Friday to accomplish the final setting up and the important calculation of fuel consumption, which helps the team plan the number of routine stops necessary.
Our strategy in the M3 was to go easy on the braking, starting at 180 yards minimum at the end of Snetterton’s Revett Straight, and thereby help to reduce pit stops to a minimum. We knew that the Sierras would have to stop much more regularly for fuel and brakes, and that would be a handicap. In truth, nobody seriously expected any of the Cosworths to last the distance anyway, but the possibility had to be accounted for.
The Class B BMW was probably giving away around 70bhp to the Class A Sierra Cosworths. Paddy Gibson was expecting to change brake pads, (the new Mintex M200s) every second stop. Little did he know what the future would bring. The TCCS team had decided to go ahead of use their brakes to the full, glazing them if necessary.
The Preliminaries
Friday 19 June was wet, and just 24 hours before the start. It was so wet that the A11 became seriously flooded and Snetterton Circuit not much better. A sweeping and sucking truck trundled round and round the track as teams sat in caravans, tents or motorhomes and sulked. Some of the pits had mini-torrents rushing through them, and the outlook was grim. Those who had counted on checking fuel consumption and full fuel load handling at the last minute were in trouble. There would be little happening today.
Official qualifying, set for between 4:30pm and 6:00pm, was cancelled as the sky became blacker and the organisers decided to include the period with the night qualifying session instead.
The pit lane was a dramatic sight that night, enough to send a rush of adrenalin surging through the most distinterested of souls. A tangle of pipes and air lines, dangling like huge telephone cables from hastily erected gantries. Refuelling crews standing by, eerily dressed, or so it seemed in the half light, in flame-proof garb similar to that worn by the drivers themselves, but minus the helmets. There was shouting and general hubbub, broken by the occasional wobbling scream of pneumatic power tools as wheels were hastily changed. Orders were barked, engines rumbled into life and kicked with expectant blasts of power, while drivers impatiently prodded at throttles. People were anxious to get on with the job.
Further along the row of gleaming cars and equipment our other car, in which Jeremy Walton would do his level best, waited too. It was the Sierra Cosworth prepared by TCCS Racing, one of seven in the race, and driven by regular driver Dave Morgan. This weekend he would share it with Jeremy, Sean Brown (a Uniroyal Saloon Car championship regular) and Rod Birley, another well known saloon car exponent.
At 10:30pm we all arrived expectantly at our soggy garage. I would go first, trundle round as safely as possible, get out and go to bed. This I did, and the conditions were horrible. We were supposed to have until midnight, but I completed four laps or so in times around 1:43 and stopped without further ado. McHale and Sands stayed longer and got down to 1:38, giving us a very modest position more than halfway down the grid. Making a big effort at good grid positions, thereby risking the car, is actually a waste of time when in terms of distance, the difference between our time and that of the fastest cars was worth a few yards. The total race distance would be nearly 2000 miles….
Under Starters’ Orders
The big day, Saturday 20 June. Picking at breakfast, bats in the stomach, searching for supplies of extra strong mints and a place where it wasn’t raining.
M3 team manager, Jeremy Nightingale, explained in his best team manager’s voice, ‘I don’t want it cool, and I don’t want it wet.’
This was because cool air favours the powerful turbo cars which we were hoping would break down, and the wet favours the front-wheel-drive cars.
It looked as though we would get away with it after all, and I for one wasn’t sorry. We had sorted out the driving stints the day before, Sands would lead off, I would run second, and McHale third. Sands and McHale would alternate during the night and we would play it by ear on Sunday.
We were ready for it. We had all sat around a lot over the last couple of days; all, that is, except: Gibson and his crew who had continued to work on the M3.
Our Sierra pit had been hard at it too. They had more to do, having started later, and set fire to a rear brake when the calliper seized during the midday warm-up session prior to the race.
By 3:30pm, the pits were alive with activity. Pit crews stood by their refuelling towers, and the racing system shifted into top gear.
With ten minutes to go drivers started getting organised. Easing into bucket seats, hauling legs over those parts of the roll cage that cross the door opening, pulling four- or six-point racing harnesses tightly over hips and shoulders, and tugging insulating balaclavas over heads.
The scenario was almost complete, and for most drivers it was time to compose the mind and concentrate on what would happen in the next few minutes. Sands and Morgan would start our M3 and Cosworth respectively, a start that would commence behind a pace car. Warm up races had whetted the appetite of a large crowd and the circuit was packed by the time the green and white Sierra Cosworth course car with its orange flashing lights pulled into the pit lane, unleashing the pack that snapped impatiently at its heels.
There was a roar.
The racers were in close company, jostling through Russell, the ‘S’ bend at the beginning of the start/finish straight, weaving and feinting to gain an advantage. The race was on.
The M3 was lying 14th after the first hour – the Sierra fourth. Sierras occupied the first four places. In 24 hours time, they would occupy the first three.
As 6.37, Morgan was called in for fuel, brakes, tyre check, and the fitting of Jeremy Walton into the driver’s seat. Jeremy Walton into the driver’s seat. Jeremy left the pit lane three minutes later.
At 6.59pm, the BMW slid neatly into its pit with a puff of smoke from the brakes. The fuelling crew leaped to the rear of the car, one man with his arms wrapped around a large fuel tank venting bottle, the other carrying the four-inch pipe from the fuelling tower. Boot open, aircraft fuelling pipe clicked into place on one nozzle while the vent bottle clicked onto the other. 25 gallons of fuel go in in a matter of seconds. Sands jumped out of the car, wet with perspiration, and I got in.
It started to rain.
Leaving the pit lane slowly and carefully, I slotted into the general mayhem on the circuit. The brakes were cold and didn’t work at all. It started to rain on Riches, a fourth gear right hander, and a little on Coram at the other end of the circuit. It was a mess, and very difficult to settle down. Part of the circuit quickly became slippery, part of it stayed dry, and part of it felt like an ice rink. Into Riches the second time around and I could see the water glistening on the track’s surface, but it was too late. Turning in gingerly, the M3 slithered around helplessly. Hatchbacks buzzed around its hind quarters like a swarm of angry bees going for the kill. I was going so slowly I couldn’t get out of my own way. I was embarrassing.
Soon it started to dry though and I started to settle. Hatchbacks slid into view as the M3 overhauled them. Walton was there too. He was flying round in fourth position when a fuse blew, leaving the powerful Cosworth powerless on the right of the track at the start of Revett straight. I watched his attempts to get the beast started, aware of the crushing disappointment he and the whole team must have been feeling. Any outside assistance over and above advice would mean disqualifications. Outside assistance in the form of returning the leading Cosworth to the fray after it had ploughed into the field at the end of the straight early on Saturday night was not apparently an infringement.
The sun was setting and the evening promised better weather.
The BMW and I were plugging around at a steady 1:26, 1:25, and at that pace I was able to keep the car very smooth and trim. No kerbs, no drama and not much mixing it with some of the loonies who thought they were doing a ten lap sprint. I was being careful with the brakes too, having been slapped on the wrists for glazing the pads in practice the day before.
Despite a pace that was a little conservative compared to that of my two partners, the race bulletins showed that the M3 was holding onto the class lead it held when I took it over, and to seventh position overall. And it wasn’t getting worn out.
The Driving
The lap times we were doing translate to about 81mph average speed, while the leading Cosworth was managing around 84mph. The start/finish straight is taken in fourth the four-cylinder BMW engine howls up to nearly 7000rpm before it is necessary to ease onto the brakes just before the surface changes.
There’s no room for error in the first bend, Riches, despite the flat field beyond. Easing back onto the power, just missing the first of two apexes, brings you into the second, clipping it, then sliding gently to the exit. Then up rushes Sear, a 90 degree corner with a wide but bumpy runoff for the over-exuberant. The biggest danger is locking up here, you always find you’re entering Sear faster than you think, but the ABS helps a lot and avoids accidental flat-spotting of the tyres.
Ease on the power again, and the M3 will slide neutrally then oversteer away from the bend. It’s more twitchy with a lighter fuel load and too much power has you oversteering more and scrubbing off speed. Then it’s flat down the Revett straight towards the Esses, slip-streaming others, and being overhauled by the faster Cosworths. Into fifth at 6500rpm and into the braking area at the 200 yard board. Heel and toe down into fourth, and turn into the long, feathered-throttle left hander, easing on the power towards the end of it then on the brakes and quickly into third and into the tight right hander, sliding through with maybe a touch of oversteer at the exit.
Back up into fourth early, at about 6000rpm, and then into the ‘Bombhole’ a right hander with a huge dip at the apex, power through to the kerb at the exit, then start a gentle approach curve into the long right hander that is Coram Curve. Clip the apex about halfway round and let the car run wide to the edge of the track, flat out again by now, and pulling the car to the right on the downhill leg to the left right kink that is Russell, the most dangerous corner on the circuit. It is dangerous because losing it on the left hand entry of the ‘S’ can put you in the wall at the exit. At the same time, Russell is crucial to overall lap times and must be taken as quickly as possible….
Do that another 130 times and you have a three-hour stint in the box. I finished my one and only session with the M3 still holding the class lead and still seventh overall.
When I handed over to McHale, Gibson was elated to find we still needed no new brake pads. Gentle handling was starting to pay off.
Steve McHale drove an excellent stint and pushed the M3 up to fourth place. He and Bob Sands alternated in the car from then to the end, and the position remained the same, except for climbing officially to third overall after 12 hours (although at the time, the compute had us in second position).
The Sierra meanwhile hadn’t fared so well and had been plagued by mechanical and electrical problems. After the first five hours, it had dropped to 50th place, last on the road, through breakdowns, despite putting in competitive times.
Jeremy Walton summed up the traumas of his own race.
‘Wearing a Sparco four-layer Nomex suit, I was fastened into the brilliant red Sabelt harness on the Corbeau competition bucket seat. All around me was the security of a comprehensive steel cage. Ahead, the Mountune 2.0litre Ford Cosworth engine growled dangerously through its short side exhaust.
Finally, the row of marshalls parted, allowing me into the chaos of Snetterton’s pit lane.
I had had more than enough of pre-event testing: maximum boost, sticky R1 BF Goodrich tyres, empty tank, warm sunshine, only to switch to low (legal) boost, heavily treaded BFG Comp TA2s and a heavy fuel load for the short-lived official practice and the actual race. But it was worth it and the car was never anything but fast, friendly, and satisfying. The only real thing to watch was the way in which a naturally understeering chassis has to be balanced against power oversteer, and the turbo lag involved in the process.
During the closing hours of the race, the powerful motor still hurled us onto the straights with enough power to swap ends easily. The Sierra shot past all but the toughest Cosworth competitors.
Piling into the long right hander, Coram Curve, among a gaggle of other race track residents, from the tiny Suzuki Swift GT is to fellow “Cosworthians”, I had time to appreciate the footrest the TCCS lads had fitted since testing. This I could use to help brace my body against the 100mph cornering loads that resulted from flying around the track.
From inside the car there was a grandstand view of wheel-lifting, squabbling front-wheel-drive hatches, and the battles between wheel locking Cosworth, leaving tyre haze, exhaust fumes and turbo-flames in their wake. It was worth all the hassle.
My education was completed out there. All those “I keep it completely smooth Jeremy, never touch a kerb, forget about opposite lock”, advisors of the pit lane had turned into frenzied killers. Could these be the same pundits currently occupying the track in front of me, their four wheels straddling the low kerbs and sparks flying from distressed underparts? You bet!
From a driver’s point of view, the first stint was the most satisfying, before the electrical interruptions of course.
The following morning’s session consisted of two hours at the wheel of a very tired Ford which by then had suffered several more dramas.
There was still the satisfaction of that seductive straight line speed though (an indicated 135mph), and trying to get round the endless t-circuit of right handers without melting the tyres.
My lasting memories are not of the eventual disappointments of the race, but of the thrills of balancing 2.0litre turbo power against straining BF Goodrich Comp TAs in the company of a bunch of equally deranged individuals.
My Results
Our two cars ended up at opposite ends of the race. The M3 won Class ‘B’, and took a spectacular fourth overall, in front of the fifth placed Mercedes 190/2.3 16 of Fagan and Dowsett, and the sixth placed Escort of Jones and Watts. We were beaten only by three Cosworths, including the winning car of Rob Gravett whose entire tears deserves hearty congratulations for a truly phenomenal performance.
The BMW hadn’t missed a beat. But the most impressive part of the tale was that it finished the race on the same set of Mintex M200 brake pads that it had started with. The front pads had worn from a maximum thickness of 13mm down to 11mm and 9mmm, while the rears had only used 1mm each! Compare that with teams who had got through over ten sets of morning and you have an idea of the achievement.
Sadly, the Sierra finished last, but through reliability problems rather than the speed of its drivers, who were among the quickest. Overall, only one Cosworth failed to finish, and that was crashed.
We look forward to the return match.
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July 7, 2008
1986 - 1989, Articles