Finally! THE DRIVER BOOK II-Training is now available on Amazon

Your patience has been rewarded! The second book in The Driver series is now available on Amazon. You can still buy Book I (and please do), just click the link and buy my book!

The Driver Book II-Training Kindle eBook

Marc Lange knows how to drive a race-car at the edge—that fine line between victory and catastrophe. But his team is only one blown engine away from shuttering the doors and his dreams of championships hang in that precarious balance. But then, at the last possible second, Rene Dufour slides into his life in a crazy four-wheel drift.

Rene made a deal with Marc. He would fund the team if Marc did something for him in return. Rene showed him his world, the world of a Driver, a shadowy group of paid mercenaries that take people or things from point A to point B. Off the grid, off the radar, but with one important distinction: no questions asked. 

The deal with Rene almost got Marc killed. He barely survived, but when he counted up the piles of Euros stacked in front of him he knew his fate was sealed. “The Driver - Book II” picks up on the action right where “Book I” leaves off. Now Marc is in training to be a Driver. Training that will save his life. But is he ready?

It is hard to keep a good man down…

You know, for the first time in many years, I was Porscheless. Is that a word? It could be. Denoting not having a Porsche in your garage, not having that wonderful sound of a flat –six motor fill your ears when you mash the go pedal. Could probably go on, but I think you get the point. I was now the proud owner of an Audi A3, but at least an Audi A3 with the very cool paddle shifting DSG transmission. DSG (which is short for a very long sounding and technical German name) means that the clutch is automated and there are two input shafts for the gears. Actually, more or less it is two transmissions housed in one case. You may think that everything should be double the size, but those smart German engineers figured out a way to make every thing fit, but all the gears and shifty bits are really tiny. You do not want to have to take apart one of these things without a very good manual. A very, very good manual. Well, to be frank, you do not want to ever have to take one of these things apart ever. So when you are driving with the DSG and you have a gear engaged, the other shaft is spinning, ready to slam home in the next gear you choose. It is pretty quick too. OK, OK, since you insist…DSG stands for Direkt-Schalt-Getriebe.

Today a lot of serious car manufacturers use DSG or something close to it – VW, Porsche, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Bentley, Bugatti, Maserati, Aston Martin - pretty much all the bigs. But in 2006, there were just a few and my A3 was one of them. It was white with tan leather interior and the sports package (DUH!) with sports seats and other sporting stuff that was supposed to make a 4-door semi sports wagon feel well…sporty. You may sense vagueness here, like I was not convinced about its sporting pretentions. I wasn’t. It was very small on the inside with basically zero back seat leg room (can you imagine my 6’7” son trying to wedge himself back there? Neither can I.) But it was pretty quick and did have some aggressive Dunlop rubber. But a track car? Ahhh, not so much. Trust me, I tried it on the track…twice. Not that it was not bad, but it did not replace the feeling of the Porsche. Any Porsche… In the photo below, you can see (kinda) the small silver paddles behind the center spokes of the steering wheel.

The first time I ran it on the track, on my Birthday no less, I finished the track event and headed home. Since it is a front driver (also known as Front Wheel Drive), there is more weight over the front axle and unless you get all the braking done before you turn in, it wants to push or understeer. That means as you turn the steering wheel, the car wants to go straight. After a bit of time, you adjust your braking and turn-in points and get used to it. A couple of days later, the low oil light came on the dash. Immediately I stopped the car and checked the oil level. Bummer, it was at the lowest point on the dip stick. I bought a quart of Castrol Syntec 5W-40 and added it to bring the level back to normal. Then I realized, that the 2 liter Turbo motor used a lot of oil at the track. I should have know and would not make that mistake again.

I do remember giving a guy in a Boxster S fits in the Audi, he just could not pull me. I was on his rear bumper lap after lap. When doing a track event or track day, the slower car is supposed to let the faster car (in this case my A3) pass him on a approved passing area like a longish straight. But he never acknowledged the waving blue flags with diagonal strips, the passing flag. If it is being waved at you, it means that there is a faster car behind and you should let them pass. It is also called the invisible flag, I think the Boxster S guy was in this category, he never saw it. Although I am sure if the shoe was on the other foot, he would have been very upset that a slower car would not let his Porsche pass. It kind of reminded me of the old joke about Porsches – goes something like this: What is the difference between a porcupine and a Porsche. The Porsche has the prick is on the inside. Wait a minute…I am a Porsche guy. Hmmm, maybe that does not apply to all of us. I went to talk to him about his on track manners after the session, but since it was the last one, he exited the track, headed for the exit and just kept on going. I complained to the folks that ran the event and they did not seem to care too much either, saying that it was the last session of the day and all. Have not been back to an event they run.

So I ended up toasting the set of OEM Dunlop tires on the car and replaced them with very sticky rubber Falken Azenis RT-615’s but as usual, new tires on one of our cars means that its days are numbered. About the same time, we started having massive AC issues with the car. Had to have the compressor replaced 4 times in less than 3 months. I tried to get Audi to do something about it, like extending my warranty on the AC system, but they said fat chance. We traded it, I mean literally. Picked it up from the service drive, went to the front of the dealership, found another car that we liked and got rid of it that same day. It was still under warranty so figured that Audi would no doubt fix the issues before they resold it.

The Sales guy that handled the trade ended up buying it for his wife. I found out later that he got rid of it too, something about the AC not working correctly. Go figure.

And on that exhaust note, see you all next time.

Life with Porsches: How I became a car nut

I come by auto fanaticism naturally. My mom’s second husband was French after all. Come on…the 1960’s, a French guy that smoked Gauloise cigarettes, cooked incredible French food and looked like a French movie star? Of course he knew how to work on cars too. He seemed born to it. In 1967 he bought an Austin Healey 3000 Mk III, medium blue with a dark blue leather interior. The car was only 4 years old, but it may as well have been 100. It was broken all the time. How could this nearly new car spend so much time with its hood open, its insides being exposed? Easy…Lucas electronics. The Prince of darkness, the Earl of sitting on jack stands.

He worked on it each weekend to get it running again; it seemed to work on the weekdays and if by magic broke down on Friday evening. I remember that it required a lot of tools and parts that seemed to only come from a place very far away and it came with a lot of dirty fingernails and broken knuckles. And it required a lot of money…which we did not have much of.

But when it ran; it was like nothing else. That sound, the deep basso thunder of the inline 6-cylinder motor, that impossibly low exhaust hanging just centimeters from the ground and for me at least, those tiny buckets in the back that were supposed to be seats…with no seat belts. Ah…the 60’s.

We drove it once from St. Louis to Lexington, KY one summer so I could meet my real father. I remember sitting in the back, hanging on, looking at the speedo seeing 120 MPH on the dial. The wind rushing not so much around me, as though me. Funny, I was not even afraid of falling out. I trusted him completely.

Back home in St. Louis, he took me to a European car dealership and while he bought some parts (believe it or not), left me alone to wonder around the cars that were for sale. Oh…that magical moment, the beauty, shapes that could only be described as other worldly. I touched a Lamborghini GT350 and actually sat in it. I put my hands around the steering wheel and gear shift, but dared not move them, fearful that I might break something. I saw a bright red 275 GTB/4. A real Ferrari! Something my step-dad had only talked about. But here it was right in front of me. And nobody was looking! I slowly clicked open the door and climbed inside.

I was transported into another world; this was beyond anything I sat in before. The first thing that hit me was the smell. Then yards of leather and chrome, that huge thin rimmed steering wheel, the wood smooth to the touch, the impossibly tall chrome shifter set into the grated gear pattern, all unmistakable Ferrari. I breathed in, it smelled of hand cut leather, rubber and a faint whiff of oil; intoxicating perfume for a 7-year old. I just sat there soaking it all in. There were other great cars on the show room floor; Maserati’s, Lotus (Loti?), Jags. But what did it for me was the Lamborghini and the Ferrari. I was hooked! Smitten with the beauty of the shapes the Italian houses produced. No muscle cars for me. Oh I appreciate the brute speed, but I still lust after them funny fer’in cars.

So you see, it was all a set up after all. I would be car guy for life. I came by it naturally too. I have the tools, the dirty fingernails and broken knuckles to prove it. Oh and I have owned 9 Porsches too. But that is another story. Until next time.