Snetterton: the debrief

Trackday: £170. Accomodation: £75. Fuel: £160. New front pads, brake lines, fitting and retro-fitting: £320. Wheel refurbishment to fix scarred alloys: £110. Keeping up with a Porsche round Snetterton in the rain: priceless.

*stops to reconsider*

No, scratch that. It’s not priceless. It’s bloody expensive and it’s consumed a huge chunk of this year’s trackday budget (which was roughly £1500). What the hell was I thinking?

Back to the matter in hand, though: Snetterton. It was... ok. In terms of layout, it has to be the least interesting, least technical circuit I’ve yet driven (mental note: avoid Mallory). The straights were nothing but points at which I got out of the way of faster cars and the tighter corners were pure frustration as I struggled for any kind of grip. Riches was fun and Coram was ok, but the rest — even the Bombhole — was remarkably unremarkable. Anyway, here are some of the high and low points of the day:

An appalling lack of grip in the slow speed corners

Sear corner was enough to make my heart sink every lap, as the front end slid out under the slightest application of power. I felt like I was waiting an eternity for the grip to come while others were powering through the corner and into the distance. The second half of the Esses was just as bad grip-wise, but at least it was a shorter corner. Then the turn-in to the Bombhole was so poor that I lost lots of ground every time I arrived there and never felt I’d taken it well.

Phenomenal brakes

You know how you never notice your good health, but are all-too-aware of when you’re ill? It’s just the same with car setup. On every trackday I’ve done in the past, I’ve suffered brake fade of varying degrees. This time, however, they didn’t fade a bit. Mintex F4R pads are phenomenal (on my Mini, at least), even if the dust does eat your alloys. Sadly, I still wasn’t really able to enjoy the braking zones. My tyres were poor (bog-standard run-flats) and squirmed a lot under heavy braking, requiring a frustrating amount of modulation to avoid spinning.

Being one of the slowest guys on track

Driving a Mini, I’ve always been one of the slowest people on the circuit, no matter where I’m driving. At Snetterton, I was acutely aware of it. Through every corner and on every straight, I had to check my mirrors to prepare for letting someone past. In the dry, I barely had a single lap that wasn’t compromised by getting out of someone’s way. In hindsight, maybe I was too accommodating, but I prefer to know when someone’s coming past rather than having them scoot unexpectedly around the outside (as some chump did in a Caterham around Coram).

Getting a passenger ride in a 997 GT3

Unbelievable. Planted. Grippy. Nimble. Fast. Comfortable. Very comfortable, in fact. It was a machine to behold. I just wish it were mine. I’m definitely going to try and blag more rides like this at future trackdays. I’ve just got to make sure I keep my promises to return the favour — oops!

Pressuring a Carrera driver into a mistake

Through the course of the day, I got chatting with an affable lad from Essex who was driving an early 996 Carrera. Compared to some of the Porsches there, it was positively understated, so I was keen to get out on track at the same time as him. Eventually, we did so and, while I had to let him past on Revett Straight, I was catching him under braking for Riches the next time round. Through Riches, I kept my foot down, balanced the understeer and was right on his tail. He noticed this and tried to respond, misjudged his entry speed to Sear and got the back end swinging out. We both had a good chuckle about that when got back into the pits. :)

Finally getting some free laps when the rain arrived

I love rain on trackdays. Not only does it reduce the number of people willing to venture out on track, but it gives me a chance to keep up with people who are less confident in the wet. This time out, I got about 5 consecutive laps without having to pull over for anyone. Not only that, but I was managing to keep up with an old-skool Porsche. Not on the striaghts, perhaps, but I always clawed it back at the corners. Well, with the exception of Sear and Russell.

Getting the line right through Riches

Speaking with Carl, the GT3 owner, he told me about tuition he’d received at Snetterton and how you know when you’ve got Riches right. The key, he said, was maintaining the same amount of steering lock throughout the corner, clipping only the second of its two apexes. After getting over my initial instinct to turn in early, I found myself getting it spot on and gaining ground on half the field. Satisfying though that was, it wasn’t something that gave me much of an advantage, as there was only a short burst after Riches before braking hard for Sear (and a world of understeer).

My own inconsistency

I knew from my gut that I wasn’t having my best trackday, but it really only struck home when one of the other drivers talked about having picked out his braking points. I realised I hadn’t even managed that. Each lap, I seemed to try something different into nearly every corner, never satisfied with the previous lap’s attempt. Coming into the Esses, I even abandoned trying to base my braking points on the marker boards, instead preferring to work on intuition while watching the upcoming kerb and apex, as I do when karting. This usually led to me leaving my braking dangerously late, mind, so I had to rethink that approach too. Overall, I really hope I’m not losing my ability to hustle a car round a track. That would really be a downer. It’s how I define myself, dammit!

Watching the fuel gauge sink rapidly

I’m pretty sure Snetterton must’ve given me my worst fuel economy ever. Although I didn’t measure it, it felt loads worse than my previous record at Croft (10.2 mpg). In just 25 minutes, my tank went from brim-full to two-thirds full. I’m pretty sure that equates to over a litre per lap, which would mean 8-9mpg. Gulp.

And some other memories that I’ll keep brief:

• A Caterham Roadsport who never indicated and rarely backed off
• A Chevrolet monster with the loudest exhaust/engine ever
• Watching an Evo drifting round Sear onto Revett Straight
• Having the better of a pair of unmolested Golf GTIs (a small victory)
• Not having the better of a pair of Clios (a major bummer)
• Watching a Skyline playing with the Evo (and vice versa)
• Admiring the guts of someone willing to take a bog-standard Citroen C3 on track

Overall, though, this trackday can be summed up in one word: frustrating. If I ever return to Snetterton, it'll have to be in a different, or substantially revised, car. :(