Cadwell Park: the write-up

Yesterday, James and I spent the day blatting our cars round Cadwell Park and, despite a spin each, survived unscathed. All things considered, I reckon that’s a pretty good result. Here’s how it went...

First impressions

The first thing that struck me when we turned up was just how narrow the track was. The videos we’d watched on YouTube simply didn’t do it justice. It looked more like a kart track than a proper race track. The next surprise was finding out that we were using the full circuit, including the Woodland section under the trees. I knew this was a tight, twisty, undulating section of track, so the prospect of doing it in the wet with autumn leaves around was a daunting one.

Once the regulation safety briefing was out of the way, we got out on track for a few sighting laps behind a pace car. It was immediately apparent that learning the best lines was going to take a while. The Mini felt horribly twitchy and the blind crests and curved braking zones did nothing to settle my nerves. Hall Bends were bad enough, but the Gooseneck was another matter altogether. I really couldn’t predict how the car was going to react to my inputs. Scary stuff.

A lap of Cadwell

Once let loose proper, the picture started to come together a bit more. Hall Bends felt ok, provided I entered them on a line that let the car settle before making my first change of direction. The Hairpin and Barn were similarly manageable; while the car would understeer at the slightest provocation, gently lifting off would bring the nose back into line.

Coppice remained a test of nerves and I started the day entering it at just 60mph before slowing to around 50 for the following blind right-hander. My nerves were really getting the better of me there and backing off only made the car even less stable. Eventually, I’d learn that — and learn that I’d been taking too tight a line — and gain confidence, but it took a while.

Charlies presented little or no problem other than a disappointing entry speed and then we were on the back straight, reaching 100mph at the bottom of the hill. Despite keeping it floored in 4th gear, I didn’t manage to put on any further speed before reaching Park at the top of the hill. This was a fairly straightforward right-hander, but one around which the Mini wanted to swap ends (which it did on one occasion).

Next up was Chris Curve, a long sweeping right-hander not dissimilar to Hawthorn’s at Croft. Consequently, despite the high-stakes gamble of understeer near the track’s edge vs lift-off oversteer when I ran too wide, I actually felt reasonably comfortable on the run down to the Gooseneck.

Realising I could straight-line the braking zone helped a lot. Once into the Gooseneck, however, it was a different matter. It really felt like walking a tightrope. I was acutely aware of the Mini’s shifting weight while equally unsure of how much the camber could help or hurt me. I was well outside my comfort zone, but I gradually learned that the corner could help me and began to attack it more.

Mansfield, at the bottom of steep hill leading out of the Gooseneck was fairly simple. From there, all that remained was the left, right, up and over of the Mountain. Even at the low speeds I was doing, wheelspin was guaranteed over the crest unless you backed off at just the right time. I did have one major moment when the back end kicked out wide as I made the right turn, but overall, I was quite pleased at being able to control things.

Memories

There are a few things that will be abiding memories from this trackday. The first was just how greasy the track got. Mid-morning, a couple of rain showers made the track incredibly slippery in the tight and twisty Woodland section. We ended up tip-toeing round, barely able to touch the gas or the brakes. Or turn the steering wheel, for that matter. Turning in for the Hairpin, I kept on losing the back end of the car despite crawling at about 15mph. It was mental.

The second thing I’ll remember was getting to the point where I learnt to catch oversteering slides. When I lost the back end at Park, I’d made the schoolboy error of hitting the brakes. I knew I should have floored it to get the front wheels spinning and match the rear wheels’ lack of grip. I knew that stuff, but it wasn’t instinctive.

Later, after multiple oversteer moments in the Hairpin and Barn, I finally got it. Once again in the Hairpin, I’d entered with a little too much speed and the back end stepped out. I tentatively hit the gas and slowed the spin. I pressed a little more and was now just drifting round the corner. I held it for what felt like an eternity, managing the drift until the car finally settled down and I just drove away towards Barn. No tank-slappers, no fuss... but plenty of hootin’ and hollerin’ from me as I laughed like a maniac.

Finally, I’ll take away the memory of managing to turn into Coppice at 80mph. Earlier in the afternoon, I’d been treated to a passenger ride in a Lotus Elise 111R and been amazed at how well planted it felt. Where the Mini had been squirming around, the tail feeling heavy and threatening to spin, the Lotus just felt glued to the track. Its light weight (860kg vs 1140kg) and lower centre of gravity meant it was never fighting its own inertia.

Anyway, on seeing that its owner could fairly hurtle into Coppice at 80mph while I’d maxed out at about 70mph, I took it upon myself to match him. With an absence of further rain and with the cars clearing the worst of the track’s moisture, I gradually upped the pace in the Mini and matched the Lotus’s entry speed. What a thrill! Coming back into the paddock shortly afterwards, I was grinning like an idiot. That, I realised, is exactly why I pay daft money to do this kind of thing.