The SPK Overnight 500 14 Hour Go Kart Race

For the majority of the last ten years the second weekend in October has always been a special weekend. It's when the 24 Hours of Moab mountain bike race takes place. It's the one race I've usually been able to do regardless of the state of my knee injury. This year that was not to be, but I found a valid replacement.

The SPK Overnight 500 is a 14 hour go kart race held at Summit Point Raceway in West Virginia. That's right I said go kart! They aren't just any go karts; they are French built Sodi RX7 high-speed karts that feature a 9 horsepower Honda GX390cc motor. Equipped with a composite dry clutch, hydraulic brakes, and racing slicks they top out a close to 65mph and can pull 2.5 lateral G's. The track is Summit Point's Washington Circuit, a former auto cross track with tight S turns, high speed sweepers, chicanes, and a long back straight that ends in a tight, but fast left hander.

Sodi RX7 Kart

RX7's Cued Up for the Start

Summit Point Washington Circut

The race is the longest of Summit Point Kart's endurance series. It's 500 miles (1000 laps on the 1/2 mile track) or 14 hours, which ever comes first. The race starts at 8:00 pm, so the majority of it is at night. SPK provides the Karts, you just show up ready to race. The rules are Le Mans style; meaning if you pit for other than a mechanical issue a driver change is required. When my brother Andrew asked me to be on his four person team I laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing. When we showed up at the course and saw how professional the competition was that laugher turned into fear. We were seriously outclassed. The other teams had sponsors, matching race suits, team trailers and racing coaches. In hindsight, that made it even funnier!

Pro Team Trailer

Walking the Track

Our team was called the Black Stigs after the first Stig character on BBC's show Top Gear. We couldn't find black suits so we had to make due with black helmets and green flight suits. We all had proper high speed karting experience, but nothing close to the "professional" teams. The intensity of driving a racing kart is something that must be experienced to understand. It looks so stupid from the sideline, but when you are in the driver’s seat you feel like an F1 champion. Zero suspension, 2 inches of ground clearance, racing slicks, and a sports car-like power to weight ratio make it incredibly intense. The beating of constant braking, accelerating, lateral G's, and feeling every bump on the track takes a huge toll on the body. The neck is usually the first thing to go due to the weight of the helmet. I prepared by wearing a thick neck pad and lateral G restraints (which I didn't end up needing). Padded, but grippy gloves and thin-soled shoes for good pedal modulation were the next on the list. Even something as sedentary as putt putt golf would hurt after fourteen hours; hurling around a track all night was going to be a special brand of pain!

The Black Stig

My Race Equipment

After we completed all of the necessary paperwork (including awareness that being ejected from the kart is a good thing because your energy is dissipated less rapidly), we had to weigh in. To make it as fair as possible weight is added to the karts to match driver weight to the heaviest person there. The race meeting was next followed by the Lemans (running) start. Tim drove first followed by me, Patrick, and Andrew. Tim's wife Kate provided us with food, coffee, and support. Tim had a great start in front of the pack. A crash in the high speed turn following the back straight brought out a yellow flag, but it only lasted one lap.

Our Team

Andrew and Me

With Tim

Patrick, Tim, and Andrew

Tim and Kate

Weights to the Even Out Karts

Race Start

First Laps

The Pits

Tim had to end his first driving stint early due to a glove issue. Luckily, was I suited up and standing by on the ready. It was baptism by fire as it was my first time in a kart in 3 months and I had never driven the track. At first almost everyone was faster than me. Learning the track was tedious. Early on I spun in the high speed turn following the back straight and got black flagged. That meant I had to pull into the hot pit for time penalty. As a team we were only allowed six black flags throughout the race and mine was our second. When I went back out I got the basic line down quickly, but fine tuning it took a long time. Braking points, where to lift and just coast (this was huge), turn-in points, apexes, and what sections of the track had the best grip all came slowly. By the end of my first stint I was running consistent 51 second laps, but the leaders were running :47's. After an hour and fifteen minutes in the saddle I was surprisingly not sore. That was until I tried to extract myself from the kart and walk. The best I could do was hobble. The inside of my shins hurt the most from constantly modulating the pedals.

My First Stint

Patrick went next followed by Andrew. By my next stint we were up to 14th place. I was able to whittle my lap times down to consistent :50's with a few :49's and hold our position. The amount of work it took to gain one second was astronomical. As nice as the Sodi RX7 is, it's not a precision instrument. In a race that is fought in half seconds precision matters most. It was like conducting an orchestra with a telephone pole. I was amazed at how much faster the good people were. The karts theoretically all have the same advantage, but the levels of precision that the fastest teams were able to drive with meant they were lapping us hour.

Enduring the Night

When Tim went out again he threw down an hour and twenty minutes of solid 48 second laps, combined with Patrick and Andrew's driving that moved us up to 10th place. Our position was starting to matter now. At 6:00 am, on my third driving stint, it was up to me to maintain it. I did so by further whittling another second off my lap times to consistent :49's with a few :48's. My fastest lap of the race was a 0:48.7. Then disaster struck! In the S turns after the front straight the kart lunged hard to the right. I fought to keep it under control and miss the wall. Through the next turn it was clear that my kart was mortally wounded. I limped it back into the pits. The right rear tire had rolled off the rim (they are solid tires, so no flats). We lost four places during the kart swap to 14 th place. A driver change was not possible because we would have lost even more. At that point I had been out on the course for one hour and fifteen minutes. It was going to be a long stint.

Dawn had arrived and with it an eerie morning fog. Driving at night was like having tunnel vision. Daylight offered a whole different experience. Oddly people's times slowed down slightly. Then a nasty accident brought out a full course red meaning everyone came to a stop. The driver was okay. He got ejected from his kart after spinning and hitting a tire wall hard. After the track was cleared we were cued up for a re-start. I had been out for two hours, but had moved us back up to 12th.

Dawn

Stopped Due to a Red Flag

Red Eyes

The Accident Being Cleared

Patrick went out next and brought us back to 11th place. At 9:00 am the leaders had completed 907 laps running solid :47's. They would probably hit 1000 laps around 9:45 am. Patrick didn't have enough gas to finish so we would have to do a driver / kart swap, but the team in 12th place was only one second behind us. Fortunately, they had to pit too. When it was all done our lead had dwindled to half a second. Andrew went out to finish the race. He was running :50's, but the team just behind us was running :47's. There were less than 30 laps to go. It was going to be agonizingly close. Andrew was in kart # 1, they were in kart # 9 and closing fast. With 15 laps to go Andrew was only three turns ahead of him. Working to our favor was a group of traffic between them that allowed Andrew to maintain his half second gap. Then #9's lap times fell off to :49 - :50's. We weren't sure if his concentration lapsed or if it was the kart. With seven laps to go it looked like we had 11th place locked. All Andrew had to do was keep driving :50's and not spin or get caught up in traffic. He crossed the line at the checkered flag two karts ahead of #9.

Andrew Going Back Out

Go Pro Movie of Andrew's Last Stint

Andrew Crossing the Finish Line

We had finished 11th place out of 23 teams, the first 7 of which were pro teams. As absurd as the concept of a 14 hour go kart race is, we ended up taking it seriously and battling hard to finish 11th. The intensity was greater than any mountain bike race, hang gliding comp, or adventure race I've ever done. Battles were fought in half seconds and won by 10th's. First and second were only 6 seconds apart and 33 laps ahead of us.

Santa Cruz Flats Race 2011

The Santa Cruz Flats Race is a hang gliding competition that takes place every September in Casa Grande, Arizona. If you don't know how it works, most hang gliding comps are similar to a road bike stage race. Each day the pilots race along a predetermined route to a goal. The routes can be point-to-point, out and returns, or triangles. If you make goal you get scored on how fast you flew the route. If you land out then you get a lesser score based on distance. The person with the most points at the end of the week wins. As the course is flown the pilots group together in gaggles, just like a peloton in a bike race. People go on glide and get covered just like riders making breaks and getting reeled back in.

Santa Cruz Flats Race 2011

(you can see the dust storm I talk about later at the end)

The race is held at the Francisco Grande Hotel, which used to be a premier Major League Baseball spring training facility. Now it's a sports resort with a ten-story tower overlooking a palm tree laden golf course. The resort bends over backwards to accommodate the comp, even building a runway for us to aerotow from. Jeff and I scored a room on the 7th floor of the tower overlooking the golf course. The flying is why we come, but the people involved, from the tug pilots to the organizers, ground crew, and other pilots are what make competition hang gliding truly enjoyable. Throughout the week we had good fun lobbing water balloons off the balcony, flying the RC Mustang on the tower roof, and socializing.

View from our Balcony

The Runway

Flying the Mustang on the Roof

Jeff Behind the Safety of His Water Balloon Curtain

This year would be my second time at Santa Cruz Flats. I had high expectations based on my improvement at the Flytec Race and Rally in May. Success in racing hang gliders is based more on decision making than any other factor. Many a hot shit pilot has shown up to a comp only to be humiliated by bad decisions. During a typical flight you make hundreds of critical decisions, any of which could land you on the ground prematurely. Your decisions need to be in tune with the conditions, your skill level, and the competition. My thermalling and gliding have much room to improve, but decision making is my biggest focus.

At The Flytec Race and Rally the conditions were epic, allowing long tasks and intense racing. Most days my decision making was too conservative. I flew too high and slow, coming in late in the day and low in the rankings. Towards the end I adapted and made goal a few times. I also flew with the lead gaggle a few days and got a taste of real hang glider racing. In Arizona I showed up super motivated to race aggressively. This was completely inappropriate for the conditions. Blue skies (no clouds to mark thermals) and light lift prevailed throughout the week. The first three days I flew overly aggressive by leading out glides, leaving the gaggle, and not sticking with people. The worst was on the third day when I landed just past the first turn point next to a Walmart. My independently minded decisions are a carry-over from mountain bike racing where my skill and fitness could back up my aggressiveness. It will serve me in hang gliding one day, but for now I need to stick with the group. Landing out three days in a row offered me lots of solitude to think about my mistakes.

Day 1 Track Log

(click for a larger image)

Landing Out Day 1

Footprints Starting from Nowhere

By the middle of the comp the lessons of my failures had started to kick in. The great thing about hang gliding is that nothing is free, every climb and every kilometer has to be earned. I'm at the stage of the game where every success has to be earned. Every failure is a gift to file away and not repeat. The more I can master the art of loosing the more I will succeed. It's easier said than done, especially when fighting an ingrained independent streak. My victories in Arizona were small and incremental, but slowly I began to claw my score up from the bottom.

The biggest improvement I made was getting in the air early. The logistics of staging are a huge deal. Rigging the glider, rigging the harness, packing the glider bags, dealing with the inevitable radio issues, filling the Camelbac, programming the GPS, sun block, lunch, pooping, etc. Doing all of that in 100+ degree heat is demoralizing. In the past, by the time I got it all done I would always end up at the back of the launch line, which meant I was behind before I got off the ground. At SCF almost everyday I was one of the first flex wings off the ground. Immediately after the morning pilot meeting I would go to straight to my glider and wait. As soon as the rigid wings (who launched first) cued up I would hook in completely and get in the line. It usually meant 30-50 minutes of suffering in the heat, but it set me up to stay with the leaders.

Shade is Valuable Real estate

114 Degrees Fahrenheit

By Day 4 I had started to heed my lessons and make a concerted effort to stay with the main gaggle. All morning a huge area of convective clouds had been building south of our route. By midday, VIRGA was dumping out of the clouds causing a dust storm on the ground. The storm was moving slow, but would eventually converge with our route. The day had not been called yet, so I pressed on with everyone else ready to bail out if the storm got uncomfortably close. I think our collective hope was we might be able to beat the storm to goal, but that hope faded as the day progressed. As we neared the second turn point the task was cancelled. We all turned around and tried to get as close as possible to Casa Grande before landing. I picked a TA truck stop because it would have cold drinks, warm food, and a shelter in which to break down my glider when the dust storm hit. The restricted landing area was challenging, but was worth it when the dust storm hit.

Day 4 Track Log

Running From the Dust Storm

Landed at the TA

My Tracks

Breaking Down in Shelter from the Wind

The Dust Storm

The forecast for Day 5 looked very optimistic. The task was a triangle to the east. The route went northeast to Coolidge, then the turned south along the Newman Mountains to turnpoint 2, which was downwind of Ploken?? Pass. The final leg followed I-10 back to Casa Grande through an agricultural valley where lift would be sparse. The main gaggle was filled with talent. I flew conservative by staying high and following on glides. At the first turn point I got dropped in the climb. I missed a core and in three circles I was alone. I glided hard for the mountains where I found myself uncomfortably low. There were a few tenuous moments, but eventually I clawed myself off the deck and caught the gaggle. The problem was that by the time I got there everyone had tagged the turnpoint. I still had to dive downwind and make it back with enough altitude to clear the ridge.

Day 5 Task

On Top of the Gaggle

On Glide with Glenn and Matt

Enjoying a Gu

Over Coolidge Looking South at the Newman Mountains

Low with Charlie

Working Back Up North of Newman Peak

I caught an 800fpm climb with Davis above Newman Peak. As he left with the gaggle I dove for the turn point. It had a 10km radius. I started a 180-degree wingover at 10.3km that put me a mere 136 meters into the turn point. Traveling at 70mph over the ground I was proud to be so efficient. I made it back to Newman Peak with good altitude, but I was alone and the lift was super light. I scratched on the ridge for an agonizing 45 minutes before a good thermal came through. After topping out at 8900' feet I pressed out into the valley. I didn’t find a bump of lift until I finally caught a 150fpm climb past the last turn point. It would be last climb of the day. I landed 25km short of goal. It was super frustrating, but an improvement from the first three days. I'm confident I would have made goal if I could have stuck with the gaggle at the first turnpoint.

3D Track Log of Tagging the Turnpoint

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Landed 25km Short of Goal

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On Day 6 a triangle task northwest into the Sierra Estrella Mountains was called. The lift in the mountains was forecast to be strong and high, but we had to cross light-lift agricultural areas in both directions on the way. In the start circle the lift was light and capped at 5000'. The result was the worst death gaggle of the comp. Gaggle flying is a chaotic tornado of gliders all turning and climbing within wingspans of each other. When the lift is light and people reach the top all order erodes as their circles evolve into cloverleaf search patterns. The result is gliders going in all directions like golf balls in a racquetball court.

Looking Down on the Gaggle

After two hours of the death gaggle I'd had enough. I ignored my own advice and left the gaggle early. I had got rolled out by wake turbulence just as two Litespeed gliders left below me. I knew it was the wrong move, but I was so frustrated I didn't care. Of course, just as I left the lift turned on and everyone got up. I had to scratch with Ricker for a while, but we caught back up over the second turnpoint.

Relieved to be High Again

Estrella Airport - The Second Turnpoint

When we reached the Estrella Mountains the lift turned on with 800-900 fpm climbs. I shared a climb with Matt, Charley, and a sailplane. The main gaggle was 4-5000' above us. Out in the distance I saw two military aircraft converging fast. They were AV-8B Harriers doing about 400 knots. White contrails were trailing from each wingtip, which didn't make any sense at their altitude. After they blasted directly above us I realized it was jet fuel being dumped. The air reeked of Jet A afterwards.

The Estrella Mountains

Freeze Frame of the Harriers

Glider Between their Fuel Contrails

Matt, Charlie, and I topped out at 14,000'. They ran the ridge north while I glided straight to the turnpoint. In hindsight this was a mistake because their GPS's showed an optimized route that mine didn't. The result was that I burned away precious altitude and time tagging the turnpoint farther from the course line than I needed to. After the turnpoint I ran back to the ridge and caught my best climb of the meet. I went from 6900' all the way up to 15,200' in consistent 900 fpm lift. In Colorado it's easy to climb into the high teens above high terrain. Arizona is only 1000' above sea level. That meant I was almost 3 miles above the ground! I was already cold from the climb to 14,000' before the turnpoint, but back up at 15,200' it was becoming unbearable. All I had on was thin speed sleeves and box handling gloves. As I left on the long glide to the next turnpoint hypothermia was in the back of my mind. At about 12,000' a sailplane came up next to me. I looked at the warm pilot behind his canopy longingly as my shivering turned into full body convulsions. On the ground it was 105 degrees, but I might as well be on the North Pole at my altitude.

Charlie and the Sailplane

Stiking High at 15,000'

At 15,000' I Could See Downtown Phoenix to the North

Another Sailplane

I had a decision to make. I could fly the course line at best glide and hope to make goal or deviate into the mountains to the west to search for lift. Making goal in one glide didn't look optimistic so I opted for the latter. It was a long slow glide, flying slow and efficient. At 8000' I finally stopped shivering. After running the mountain range just south of Estrella without a bump I realized searching for lift was moot. I was so far off course that making goal was out of the question; it was all about making the last turn point. I tagged it with enough altitude to set up an approach into a tight gravel lot next to an abandoned gas station. I overshot the field, kicked my feet on a line of bushes, and landed in the next field. I glided a total of 49 km, 30 miles, in one glide.

Jo Met Me on the Ground

Sunset

Jo arrived in AZ that night and showed up on my retrieve. It was a wonderful treat to see her after such an intense flight. The last day was cancelled due to poor conditions. Jonny took Jo up for a Dragonfly ride that was the highlight of her trip. I took a free flight and enjoyed one last taste of Arizona air. It was bittersweet to finally land at the hotel, but not at the end of a task. I busted a few victory wingovers and strafed the hotel tower anyway. We enjoyed an evening in the pool, flying the RC, and socializing.

Flying Over the Hotel

Photo Courtesy of Ricker Goldsborough

Landing

Photo Courtesy of Ricker Goldborough

Stoked!

Photo Courtesy of Ricker Goldborough

My main challenge this comp was to motivate and stay in the fight in the face of day after day of mediocre results. Towards the end I was able to put together a few good flights, but my expectations were higher. That said, I feel good about my progress and will enter next season with more lessons learned in my toolbox. It may not be in the timeframe I want, but I am slowly earning my successes through my failures. It feels good!