Nürburgring

Nürburgring


Recently, the new Nissan GT-R supercar lapped the Nürburgring in a blisteringly fast seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds. Next, the new supercharged 638-horsepower Chevy Corvette ZR-1 started putting in lap times in the 7:40 range, but in less-than-ideal cold, wet track conditions, and the GM engineering team started flexing their bragging muscles.

Nissan, not about to lose face to a bunch of hairy gaijin and their coarse, brutish 'Vette, sent out track ninja Tochio Suzuki who knocked out an unbelievably quick 7:29. In the face of speculations as to whether the ZR-1's dry lap time would best the techno-wizardy of the GT-R, chief ZR-1 Engineer Tadge Juecter responded that his car would beat any production car's track record, anywhere in the world.

Needless to say, this epic battle went to my head faster than a pint of schnapps and I may have become a little over-excited. Sadly, I was not successfully able to communicate that excitement to most of my friends.
“Nüburgring? Isn't that the German word for onion ring?” one asked.

“I thought the Nürburgring was destroyed when Frodo cast it into Mount Doom,” said another, “Oh, and thanks for calling, I need your help to clean out my basement.”
There was no help on the home front either, as my eco-conscious wife wanted to know how many miles to the gallon the ZR-1 got. “At least several,” I mumbled, and then high-tailed it.

So what is the Nüburgring anyway, and why does it seem to be the equivalent of behind-the-bike-sheds for afterschool scrapping between the best racecar drivers and engineering teams in the world?

Built in the 1920s in Nürburg (which has nothing whatsoever to do with onions, just in case you were wondering), the Nüburgring is one of the longest, most technically difficult racetracks in the world. It is located in the west of Germany, 120 kilometers northwest of Frankfurt, and is divided into several sections, the most famous being the Nordschliefe or “Northern Loop.”

At nearly twenty-three kilometers in length, with every conceivable type of corner imaginable, it is the Nordschliefe that has made the Nüburgring famous. Sir Jackie Stewart, the Formula 1 racing driver known as the “Flying Scot”, coined the term “The Green Hell” for the Nordschliefe when he raced there in the late sixties, and even now, it is widely regarded as the toughest, the most demanding and the most dangerous racetrack in existence.

The Nüburgring claims several lives each year in crashes. Several well-experienced Formula One drivers died in the sixties, and even now drivers who have logged countless hours can be caught out by any one of its one hundred corners. Any mistake at all means hitting the barrier, and the track's enormous length makes it difficult for emergency teams to respond quickly.

Dangerous it may be, but as a yardstick with which to measure the performance of supercars, 'Ring lap times are far better than just 0-60mph acceleration figures and quarter-mile times. The Nüburgring punishes every dynamic of the cars, only rewarding the best, and many manufacturers use the track as a place to hone their vehicles until they're just right.

GM and their Corvette are relatively new 'Ring rats, but team drivers from German companies such as BMW, Mercedes, Audi and Porsche can be found on the track almost every day, flogging everything from prototype racers to the latest 911 variant. No official word on what the Germans think about the current battle for 'Ring supremacy being fought between the Americans and the Japanese but they're probably cooking up their own track superweapon.

It's not just bragging rights for company racers either: the 'Ring is also open to the public on most weekends and weekday evenings. As it operates in much the same manner as a toll road, you simply drive up to the gate, deposit your twenty-one Euro, and then it's off for a blast around the corners. It can be dangerous to get too wrapped up in trying to hit your best lap time though. Rescue paramedics report that they often retrieve running stopwatches from crashed racecars.

If you're not foolhardy enough to want to lap the Nüburgring yourself, a professional driver can take you on a lightning tour in one of the BMW M5 'Ring Taxis. If you're very lucky, it'll be the “Queen of the Ring”, driver Sabine Schmitz, who's known for giving out such helpful tips as, “Never enter Karussell [a tricky corner] when on the brakes! I have gone round there on the roof, I know what I'm talking about.”

Not enthused about riding shotgun with a fast and furious fräulein either? Well, the Nüburgring's popularity is so widespread, it can be found on most any serious racing simulator you'd care to name. If you do happen to end up going around the Karussel on your roof, it's great to have a reset button.

Fix It Yourself

AC Schnitzer, the famous German tuning house, has recently announced that they will be opening a high-end restaurant above their workshop. The idea, so sayeth the glossy press release, is that deep-pocketed customers will be able to drop off their BMWs to get some extra horsepower shoehorned under the hood, whilst enjoying some chilled-salad-fork-style fine-dining at the same time.

After idly wondering about whether AC Weiner Schnitzel would be on the menu, or whether I could get a 5W-30 truffle oil change, I suddenly came to the realization that this was possibly the stupidest thing I had ever heard in my entire life.

Whatever happened to doing things yourself? Nowadays it seems like every manufacturer has wreathed their engine bays in complicated-looking multi-coloured wiring and masked everything familiar with mysteriously corrugated plastic engine covers.

Oh dear, I just said “nowadays”. It's only one small step further to curmudgeonhood with its “newfangled” and “whippersnappers.”

Still, I stand by my original assertion: there's something to be said for the simpler days of motoring, when each individual component didn't have its own computerized control module. Back then you could just change a wiper blade without having to reinstall and then update the wiper-blade-control-unit driver software.

Now the first thing to do when your car stops working is perform a full system reboot by turning off the car, getting out, closing all the doors, and then getting back in again, but there was a time when even a hamfisted do-it-yourselfer such as myself could successfully attempt a roadside repair.

Once upon a time, all you needed to fix a car was a screwdriver, a monkey wrench, a socket set with not too many pieces missing, a really big hammer, and overconfidence in your own abilities. There was no need for specialized dealer tools that look like R2-D2's arm and cost more than a piano: cars were nothing more than tremendously complicated Mechano sets, just that the wrenches were bigger, and there was more opportunity to get yourself all nice and dirty.

And there were no Wizard of Oz don't-look-behind-the-curtain plastic covers either, just bare greasy metal. Everything was out in the open: there is the manifold, here is the carburettor, there're the valve covers, here's the metal thingy I always burn myself on, there's the bit that goes sproing and flies off into the corner of the shed where you can't find it for three hours. All there; all just begging to be tampered with.

In my opinion, you don't really begin to truly appreciate your car until you've invested a part of yourself in repairing, maintaining or improving it. The part I usually end up investing is the skin off my knuckles, but there's been plenty of times I've sat in the driver's seat, ignition key poised, offering up a silent prayer to Our Blessed Lady of Acceleration that this time it's got to start. When the engine does start, it's the best feeling in the world. All the sore backs, mashed thumbs and gritty eyes disappear in a flood of endorphins, as you stand back to admire your handiwork. Usually at this point you realize that you've forgotten to bolt something extremely important back in, and that you've got to take everything apart again in order to do so, but that's beside the point.

Even with a modern car being crammed full of computing power, there's still plenty for the shade-tree mechanic to try their hand at. I wouldn't really bother with the brakes, as that's how Tim Robbin's character ended up in jail in the Shawshank Redemption, but you could at least learn how to change your own oil. For all the mumbo-jumbo of drive-by-wire, electronic control units and on-board diagnostics, engines are still all about fuel, air and spark. If you can figure out which one of those things is missing, you're halfway there to fixing it.

Leave the big stuff to the professionals by all means, but get out there and get under your car. Take off the plastic engine covers and put them in the recycling bin. Show up to the board meeting with blackened fingernails and a smudge on your nose.

You'll learn how the internal combustion engine works. You'll learn how swearing actually makes pain go away faster. You'll learn what a complicated, fantastic, amazing piece of machinery a modern automobile is.

Best of all, if you know what your mechanic is actually talking about, you'll never end up paying to have your muffler bearings lubricated.