Pontiac Racing Championships - The Triple Crown

My first experience was the DP's unwillingness to accept me as a passenger. The truth of the matter is that I was physically too large to be in this car or participate in this type of racing. They are built for occupants who are about 5'6" and weigh about 140 pounds-that seems to be the ideal combination for a driver in terms of strength and packaging in the tight confines of a race car. Here I am, 6'2" and about 230 pounds trying to squeeze myself in, and by all accounts, I wasn't even a little bit graceful. I haven't been 5'6" since 8th grade and 140 pounds in over 20 years.

After two tries, and about 10 minutes later, I was able to get in the DP and was strapped in. It was a little on the claustrophobic side at first, but once I was able to adjust my helmet and sunglasses, I was OK. I couldn't stretch out my legs, and my size 13W shoes wouldn't fit in the footwells, but I was in and excited.

The LS6 fired to life, and the assault on the eardrums was huge. Despite the insulation of the helmet, my eardrums rattled from the sound, the exhaust pulses vibrating in my chest cavity. Even at idle, my senses were being attacked, and the experience was about to become even more visceral.

Once underway, I was impressed by the extreme nature of the DP's performance. Without a doubt, it was the most violent ride I have ever experienced. It was nothing like any drag car I had ever been in or any other competition vehicle. It was probably closer to what someone in a jet fighter cockpit would experience; the g-forces were in a word, excessive.

Even as a passenger, I could feel the sensitivity of the steering and the lightning-quick reaction the car gave to any new input. Going through the corners was like being in an oversized, sadistic go-kart that reveled in jarring the occupants into submission.

Then came the straightaway. The DP lunged forward with the force of a low-10-second bracket car, continuing on to about 150 mph. Up came the turn, a hard left. The carbon-fiber brakes came on with such force that it felt like the car hit something. There was a bit of play in the safety harness, and I lunged about three inches and then stopped suddenly-my sunglasses actually flew off, and this was with the foam from the helmet holding them. It was breathtaking. Bracing myself a little better, I was able to stay put as the car flew around the track. Several laps later, I coasted into the pits and was pried from the cockpit by the pit crew. As before, it was less than graceful, but once again I was on terra firma.

After a little time to recapture my equilibrium, I was ready to get into the GTO.R. I figured that with this being the same size as a production GTO, even with a rollcage it should be more than roomy enough, as the GTOs I drove the day before were fine in that respect.

Was I ever in for a rude awakening.

Due to the design of the rollcage, there was actually a lot less room in the GTO.R than there was in the much smaller Pontiac Riley Daytona Prototype. Where the DP had a passenger seat designed in, the GTO.R's passenger seat was an afterthought, and there was little legroom. Once I was finally buckled in, the engine was fired and off I went.

Even though the GTO.R was not really a production-based car, going around the track, it seemed like there was a similarity between it and its Australian brethren. Obviously, it was several hundred pounds lighter and a lot harsher, but the way the instructors showed us how to drive it was much like how they taught us to run the stock GTOs, using the same approach and exit angles. They told us to focus on what we learned from driving the production cars, as it was all directly applicable to the race car.