Renault Formula 1 Drive
Paul Ricard High Tech Test Track
Le Castellet, France
Step aside, Lewis Hamilton, because I too have lived the life of a Formula One driver. Well, for a day, anyway.
How is this possible? The answer lies in a scheme called the Renault "Feel It" Experience -- an intensive one-day program that puts a fortunate few participants in the shoes (a pair of blue Pumas to be precise) of a Formula One driver.
The aim is to provide a glimpse of the ultra-disciplined, highly methodical build-up that goes into preparing the modern F1 driver. No longer do these mega-salaried, carbon fibre-projectile jockeys merely turn up and drive the car. Every aspect of their existence is carefully dissected: what they eat, when they sleep, how they train... Even how they think!
The aim is to make them finely honed machines, which is perhaps why you no longer see any colourful characters (think James Hunt -- more click here) in today's F1 circus. There's far too much at stake in the modern era to have high-living loose cannons behind the wheel. That said, Finnish flyer Kimi Raikkonen does have a reputation for letting his hair down away from the track, and it doesn't seem to have diminished his blinding pace, which only goes to prove there are always exceptions to the rule.
One the other end of the scale is Hamilton, a manufactured race driver who has been groomed from childhood to do just one thing -- annihilate the opposition (including his double world champion teammate) on the racetrack.
Each step of his journey -- since even before he reached double digits in age -- has been carefully choreographed with the aim of landing him the best seat in F1. It's now well documented that he scored a prized contract with McLaren at the tender age of 13.
NO HEROICS
No such danger anyone will be running after me with pen and contract in hand, though -- wet behind the ears as I am when it comes to motor racing. I've only sat in a racecar on a couple of occasions, and have no qualms admitting I'm far more adept at driving a keyboard.
Be that as it may, I'm relishing the prospect of sliding my backside into the Kevlar/carbon-fibre missile that serves as a weekend office for Heikki Kovalainen and Giancarlo Fisichella. Provided we show at least a modicum of aptitude, each of the journos present at today's "Feel It" Experience has been promised two laps behind the wheel of a Renault F1 racecar.
I should point out here that the car we'll be driving isn't exactly the same as that piloted by Kovalainen and Fisichella in this year's Formula One championship. Our ride for the day started life as a 2002 Renault F1 chassis and it's subsequently been modified and updated to make it more suitable for its current job description in the hands of mug punters such as myself.
The biggest difference is that it's powered by a 3.5-litre "big-bore" V8, rather than the 2.4-litre unit that propels Renault's 2007 F1 car. It's a far less high-strung motor than the latter, revving to 'only' 13,000rpm, instead of the frenetic 19,000 revs the real deal maxes out at. It still makes close to 550kW and has to haul only 600kg, as per this season's F1 racers, but its power delivery isn't quite as peaky as that of the 2.4 engine.
However, I'm getting ahead of myself, because there's still plenty to be done before snuggling into the cockpit of the F1 car. The first step, obviously, is to don a full racesuit, complete with Renault/ING livery, not to mention a gamut of patches advertising the team's myriad sponsors.
Next comes a briefing/info session in which we get a short rundown on what's expected of us (no heroics, etc) and a bit of background on what goes into fielding an F1 car and prepping the jockeys who steer them.
ON THE TRACK
The first fun part comes when we take to the track in Formula Renault racers. Powered by 2.0-litre naturally-aspirated engines with 140kW, these are an ideal introduction to the world of open-wheelers. They're just as nimble and responsive (if not more so) than an F1 car, but obviously not endowed with anywhere near the same acceleration or outright grip levels.
The first six laps are run in formation behind a Renaultsport Megane pacecar. Bah! But this proves a sensible decision as it enables us to gain familiarisation with the car, as well as with the layout of the track. Incidentally, the circuit we're on is known as the Paul Ricard High Tech Test Track, and this facility (near Marseille, in the south of France) was used until 1990 as the venue for the French Formula One Grand Prix. It was subsequently shifted to Magny-Cours.
The next six laps in the Formula Renaults are non-paced and these prove a hoot as the little open-wheelers are essentially like highly potent karts. They're ultra-quick to change direction and respond faithfully to even the smallest throttle and steering inputs.
The sequential gearbox (push forward for downshifts, pull back to upshift) is also superbly direct and banging down through the gears on the approach to the 90-degree turn at the end of pit straight is a joyful experience. However, the brake pedal requires a firm stomp and scanning the telemetry printouts later reveals that I wasn't working the anchors anywhere near hard enough.
The Formula Renault will spit you off the track if you gas it up too abruptly out of tight corners, and I come across at least a couple of spinners (pirouetting gracefully off the track) at various points on the circuit.
Happily, I manage to keep mine pointing in the right direction. That said, I pose little threat to the lap record (I'm about 15sec off the 1min 37sec benchmark posted by Renault's hotshot drivers).
SLAPPED AROUND
Having pored over the telemetry in a debrief session and formed a few mental notes on how to go faster, it's time for a session with the team physio. Here, we are manipulated and manhandled by the latter, who slaps each of our heads around in comical fashion to simulate the effects of heavy braking and fast sweepers generating 4Gs of lateral acceleration.
It's an experience of surprising violence, but we find out later (riding shotgun in a two-seater F1 car) that there was no exaggeration at work here -- being in an F1 car at the limit does, indeed, place staggering loads on your neck and core muscles.
Next, it's on to the Batak machine. Thankfully, this device has nothing to do with butt clenching as its sole purpose is to hone your reflexes. It consists of a large square frame with 12 lights on it.
Each of these lights up in random order over a 60-second period and the aim is to strike the lit one with your hand as quickly as possible. The best score achieved on the day was 85 hits -- a great effort, we thought, until we're told that Heikki Kovalainen's record is 138! It doesn't seem humanly possible.
THE REAL THING
Finally the time arrives for my two-lap stint in the F1 car. With sweaty palms and what feels like a concrete lump in my throat, I clamber into the cockpit -- legs straight in first, followed by a lowering of the torso. Surprisingly, there's more room inside the F1 car than there was in the ultra-snug Formula Renault.
The miniature steering wheel in front of me is a simplified version of the one that faces Kovalainen/Fisichella, and it has only a couple of buttons on it. The genuine article enables its user to adjust brake bias, disable traction control, alter diff settings, set off an 'oil bomb' (an injection of oil in case engine oil pressure is low), activate the radio (for communicating with the pits), set the pitlane speed limiter (there's another mode for circulating behind the safety car), plus myriad other functions. No wonder it alone costs close to $100K!
I mentally rehearse the drill: Flick the ignition switch and squeeze the accelerator until "8 per cent" (throttle opening) registers on the digital readout in front of me. Once this is achieved the Renault mechanic standing behind the car can put his electric starter to use.
The engine fires up with a deafening roar. I gulp nervously. Next step, depress the heavy-ish clutch and pull back on the right-hand paddle to engage second gear (we're using this rather than first gear as it gets the job done and puts less strain on the clutch).
Then it's time to increase engine revs until the first of a sequence of lights on the steering wheel (these light up progressively as revs rise) begins to glow. Right... now it's time to ease out the clutch ever so s-l-o-w-l-y. Let it out too quickly and the car will sputter to an abrupt halt.
I gradually ease out the clutch for what feels like an eternity. Finally, the car begins to creep slowly forward. Yes! I managed not to stall it.
Trundling out of the pitlane, the Renault drones noisily, but it's nothing compared to the cacophony that erupts as I nail the throttle (well, halfway) on the exit. Engine revs soar in a virtual blink, and I pull back on the paddle to engage second, but... nothing. There's no upshift... What the?
I end up virtually coasting around Turn 1 as I'm still fumbling with the gearshift paddle. It takes another 20 seconds of fumbling and more wasted corners before I remember that at least three lights in the sequence of tachometer-simulating lights need to be glowing before I can upshift. Reason? Until this point, there simply isn't enough hydraulic pressure built up in the gearshift actuator to swap cogs.
The solution is simple: gas it up with abandon on the next straight, hear the engine scream, and then bang up through the gears. Sweeeet!
The rate of forward motion is staggering -- unlike anything I've experienced in any other conveyance (seeing as I was never selected for the Space Shuttle program).
The sensation is actually hard to describe, because this really is performance from another dimension; it's kind of like being transplanted inside a video game. A power-to-weight ratio of just over 1kg per kW says it all, really -- it's nearly four times better than that of the super-fast Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera (3.4kg/kW) we recently tested (more here).
It's fair to say the adhesive abilities of the tyres aren't by any means tested during my two-lap stint, but I manage to register just short of 250km/h on the approximately 800m run down the shortened pit straight (as this requires little in the way of skill).
Both throttle and steering are hypersensitive, so much so that just keeping the car tracking straight and accelerating smoothly requires immense concentration. The carbon brakes, on the other hand, only give their best when the brake pedal is stomped on (about 90kg of pressure is needed for maximum braking force).
WHAM BAM, THANK YOU
Seemingly in a blink, my two laps are over and it's time to head into the pits. As per instructions, I kill the engine on entering pitlane and coast up to the waiting pit crew with clutch depressed.
Although disappointed the whole experience has concluded so quickly -- is it really over? -- I still have something to look forward to: riding shotgun in a two-seater F1 car with one of Renault's aces taking care of steering duties.
It's easy to see why this exercise is left to the end of the day because any attempts by us to replicate the pace the two-seater sets would surely have seen Renault's entire fleet of F1 "Feel It" cars beached in sand traps or embedded in tyre barriers.
The first genuine eye-opener is the braking energy generated at the end of pit straight: it feels remarkably like running face-first into a thick glass wall. Subsequent corners that we novices had carefully manoeuvred around in the single-seater are despatched with contempt.
But the real heart-in-mouth moment comes as we negotiate the long right-hand sweeper at the end of the back straight... flat in seventh gear! I now feel first-hand why F1 drivers have necks that are wider than their heads as I struggle to hold my helmeted noggin upright. It defies belief that the friction between rubber and tarmac can generate such immense cornering loads.
As we trundle back into the pits, I realise I've acquired a new sense of perspective for this, the pinnacle of motorsport. I take it all back, Mr Wurz, Mr Yamamoto and Mr Albers... Just being deemed worthy of a seat in F1 is a supreme achievement, regardless of where you are on the grid.
SPECS: FORMULA RENAULT 2.0
Vehicle type: Single-seater; carbon fibre monocoque
Engine: 2.0-litre four-cylinder
Power: 140kW
Transmission: Six-speed sequential gearbox
Suspension: Front: push-rod, single strut with adjustable compression and expansion; Rear: push-rod, twin strut with adjustable compression and expansion
Brakes: 4-piston callipers; ventilated discs 275 x 17.5mm
Wheels: 8 x 13-inch alloy (front) and 10 x 13-inch (rear)
Fuel tank: 38 litres
Weight: 490kg
SPECS: Renault Formula 1 "Feel it" car
Chassis: Composite monocoque (2002 race chassis)
Aero: 2005 aerodynamics
Engine: 3.5-litre V8
Power: 520kW at 13,000rpm
Transmission: Seven-speed paddleshift sequential
Brakes: Carbon discs, AP Racing calipers
Front suspension: Double wishbones, pushrod operated torsion bars
Rear suspension: Double wishbones, pushrod operated torsion bars
Steering: Rack-and-pinion, power assisted
Length: 4800mm
Width: 1800mm
Height: 950mm
Weight: Approx 600kg (with driver, camera, ballast)
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