For the second time in four years, a talented British driver's death will overshadow the end of the IndyCar season, and tonight the racing world is heartbroken after losing a gentle giant in Justin Wilson.
I don't have to tell you what a great guy Wilson was or expound on his talented on the track. What I will say, though, is that his spirit and passion for this sport certainly impressed me, and that should never be overlooked. So often we hear stories about drivers who lose their racing seats and disappear, or they get told they're too old for a team to take a chance on them. Or in this case, maybe they're told that they're too tall.
Justin Wilson experienced all of these things and more throughout his racing career, but he just kept fighting. You don't have enough money to get into F1? He sold shares of himself to raise money long before crowdfunding really became a thing. Your racing series is coming to an end and joining with IndyCar? He immediately made the switch from ChampCar and dove straight into Indy, undeterred in his desire to race. You lose your seat? He switched teams, aided by his amiable personality and undeniable talent.
Perhaps in this last fact we can get a great appreciation for the person he was. His reputation as a driver and a human being preceded him, certainly helping him network and continue to pursue a full-time drive. And teams took note, knowing full well that he was a consistent, fast, intelligent and personable driver suitable for any team.
With every threat to his career, Wilson found a way to keep going. Just this year he faced the proposition of a 2015 without IndyCar, but Michael Andretti felt comfortable enough with Wilson's reliability that he provided another car for a partial schedule until more sponsorship could be found. Wilson delivered on this opportunity just weeks ago with a second-place finish at Mid-Ohio.
But Justin wasn't always smiling. Put him in a race car, whether it's in Formula 1, IndyCar or Le Mans, and suddenly he was all business. His intensity shone through his helmet, and it wasn't hard to tell how much he wanted to win—something he did seven times over the course of his American open wheel career.
When he got out of the car, though, the smile would return, the intensity would subside, and he would go back to being generous, tall, soft-spoken Justin, ever the British gentleman to his fans.
We can go on for as long as we want about his character, but the sad fact is, there's a wife and two little daughters grieving tonight. There's a brother pouring out his soul and admiration for his best friend on Twitter with one heartbreaking tweet after another. And there's a worldwide racing family mourning and wondering what to do. After all, we're less than five days away from the first practice session for the final race of the year.
When Dan Wheldon was killed four years ago, at least it was already the final race of the year. We had an entire offseason to collect ourselves, to be sad and to come together as a confused and distraught family. But as so often happens in this sometimes cruel and complicated sport, it must go on, and seven days after the accident we'll be back at a circuit to decide the title. I'm not really sure which is better for healing, honestly, but I'm glad we haven't had enough of these instances for me to decide.
One thing I do know is that the pain and loss will serve a purpose, whether or not we know it yet. We race every week in IndyCar with the safety measures developed in part by Wheldon in a car bearing his initials. The Brazilian contingent and many others will tell you that growing up, they wanted emulate the racing exploits of their hero, Ayrton Senna, whose presence can still be felt at tracks around the world after his 1994 death prompted a worldwide revolution in racing safety. Many race with carbon fiber reinforcement in their helmets after Felipe Massa's near-fatal injury at the Hungarian Formula 1 Grand Prix in 2009. The list goes on.
Many often criticize racing for only reacting after these incidents occur, but I'm not ready to go into that debate just yet, whether it be about oval racing or closed cockpits. We can discuss that later, after we've mourned, after we've paid due respects. It deserves a conversation, no doubt, but now is not the time. Now is the time to be sad for Justin's family and to send our prayers for his daughters.
This week, let's come together just like we did after Dan, knowing that we were lucky to be able to watch Justin do what he loved. Know that his loss is being felt around the globe tonight as the news has trended worldwide on Twitter for a few hours now, aided by the thousands of tributes and messages of sympathy from drivers and fans alike. Know that the racing world will never forget this gentle giant from Sheffield.
"The brave and the fearless accept the risks of what they do because for them Life is Challenge," Steve Matchett said tonight. "Their great courage teaches us to be strong."
Godspeed, Justin.
24 August, 2015
29 July, 2015
On his birthday, a look at Fernando Alonso's future
Fernando Alonso spoke candidly last week about having his interest piqued by other racing series around the world, as the Spaniard continues to be mired toward the back of the pack in his ailing McLaren, even after scoring a rare double-points finish on Sunday. Finding his disenchantment with Formula 1 growing, I can't help but think that the double World Champion's feelings speak not only for himself but for Jenson Button, Nico Hulkenberg and even quite a few F1 fans around the globe. The sport's supposed shortcomings could fill several blogs, but what interests me most are the complex factors acting on Fernando Alonso right now and where his future may lie.
The Oviedo native is 34 years old today with 15 years of F1 experience to his name (neither of which I can really believe; his successes at Renault seem like they happened a few years ago, not a decade). Winless for two years, a man whose peers have repeatedly voted him the best driver on the grid has had plenty of time to do some soul searching lately, retiring from no fewer than five races in 2015.
For Alonso to battle the rest of the grid is tough enough, but in the last couple of years he's had to account for a pair of factors relatively unfamiliar to him: An awful car, and age.
The foibles of McLaren are maddening enough to test the most resilient of drivers (and believe me, Jenson is proving that with every positive interview he manages to eke out), and it's been far too many years since Fernando has had to grapple with a car this bad. In fact, some would argue that he never has.
But what complicates his fight even more is an ever-increasing number beside his name. You'd be forgiven for failing to brush off a mental image of a 25-year-old Alonso, but he's different now whether or not you can picture it. He's wiser, he's more composed, and he's weathered vast amounts of good and bad since then.
Throughout it all, his passion never seemed to abate. Even in the worst of times at Ferrari he knew the car was capable of springing an upset, and the outflow of emotion witnessed after his home victory proved a palpable outlet for what had been a long pent-up (yet unrewarded) optimism. Although a few hairs had grayed since those days at Renault, the spring in his step remained, the fire in his eyes burned furiously.
Nearly two years removed from that Ferrari win in Spain, we see a different Alonso unafraid to admit that his situation and outlook on the sport are far from ideal. Hampered by countless factors already, a further planned reduction in testing next year has only added more uncertainty to McLaren-Honda's efforts to lift themselves out of the back rows.
Between the disappointing outlook, unfavorable rule changes and the knowledge that time may not be on his side, Alonso is right to consider other outlets regardless of if he admits it.
Nico Hulkenberg's Le Mans win stirred the paddock into a small frenzy, both thrilled at an active F1 driver taking the 24 Hours and excited to discuss the possibilities of future crossovers. When it emerged that Alonso had nearly followed suit to La Sarthe, this revealed the Spaniard's hand slightly.
Now we know that the World Endurance Championship is a viable outlet for his efforts. We know that he considered it, and it is highly unlikely that whatever desire that drove him to investigate WEC has disappeared. Given the growing fanfare surrounding it this year, why not add Alonso to an already impressive lineup of world class drivers? The allure that pushed Mark Webber to transition is not that hard to understand, but here again the 2005/2006 World Drivers Champion may be battling the clock.
What if the WEC proves to be a dead end, though? Of the stages outside of Formula 1, it is arguably the biggest in the racing world right now, but let's say a deal could not be had with the likes of Porsche or Audi.
DTM once occupied a similar niche as WEC, seeing the likes of Mika Hakkinen, David Coulthard and Ralf Schumacher leave F1 in search of fresh competition and winnable races. It seems less popular now, but I would hardly say it's not a viable option.
Formula E is also gaining steam (er...electrons?), but despite the presence of Jarno Trulli, Nick Heidfeld and Vitantonio Liuzzi, this burgeoning series seems keen to maintain an air of youth and newness. While I'm sure FE would welcome a legend like Alonso, I don't think such a deal would be high on their priorities list.
Alonso could do far worse than exploring his options in IndyCar, too. Already a noted viewer of the Indianapolis 500, he was joined by Sebastian Vettel this year in saying that it would be fun someday to try the 500, perhaps when their F1 days were over. (At this point it would have to be since Monaco and the 500 are due to clash yet again next May.)
Alonso would certainly be taking a gamble, though. As the first F1 World Champion to enter IndyCar in quite some time, he would probably be a hot commodity. Known for his brilliance on road courses, he is wholly untested on ovals, but the benefits may outweigh the disadvantages.
He would probably be able to emulate Michael Schumacher's experiences here by enjoying a quieter life in a country where far fewer people will recognize him on the street. A less demanding schedule that has a shorter season, fewer races and barely any of the travel miles would certainly be a plus, but not every IndyCar transition has been as successful as Juan Pablo Montoya's.
Look at Rubens Barrichello, for instance. A Formula 1 record holder and 11-time race winner, Barrichello arrived on the scene eager to get back in a winning car after an unbelievably long career in F1. Friends with Tony Kanaan and a media darling for the Brazilian press, Rubens tested and drove for KV Racing in 2012 with much anticipation. Despite earning Rookie of the Year honors at the Indy 500, the affable fan favorite scored just two top-five finishes en route to P12 in the championship. Unable to find a drive the very next year, he returned to Brazil to compete for Peugeot in stock cars. (He would win their championship in 2014—his first of any series since 1991.)
What if Alonso finds himself in the same situation, though? Or even worse, what if the same thing that nearly forced him into a pseudo-sabbatical this year happens again? What if an ill-timed breakdown in bargaining leaves him high and dry from any racing series? Some would argue that he wouldn't be worse off than he is right now, haplessly and single-handedly pushing his wounded car back to the Hungaroring's pit lane on a 90°F day.
And even if the monetary element of the deal could go through, every year brings Alonso closer to a time when a prospective team may say "I'm sorry, but we'd like someone younger in our seat." Aging may be delayed, but it's never halted. Reflexes eventually slow, fitness proves harder to achieve and recovery times extend. It's inevitable, regardless of the athlete. Even for Fernando Alonso.
But what if he chooses to stay in the sport and finish his career with McLaren? How will the annals of history look back on this stretch in his career? The almost magical finish on Sunday certainly helps, possibly as a harbinger of things to come should the team continue to improve. But I'm almost certain that few people watched Alonso celebrate his second World Championship back in 2006 and thought "That's that. He'll never win another one." I know I didn't. In fact, everyone I knew said quite the opposite, that we were just beginning to see the potential and brilliance of this brash new champion.
Even so, all that time without winning another title will do nothing to his legacy. Some may lament or show surprise that he didn't win again during that stretch, but his race victories and near misses at season finales will maintain his stature. Pairing that with his grit and determination in perennially-struggling Ferraris shifts the focus from what could have been to what may have been wasted. His time at McLaren only cements that chapter of his career in review, pending a momentous turnaround next year.
I can't help but think that people will now look back at Alonso's past and think "He made all the wrong moves at all the wrong times. He left McLaren when he should have stayed. He stayed at Ferrari when he should have left. He left for McLaren when he should have stayed at Ferrari." And since we'll never know what could have been had he made those alternative decisions, you'd be hard pressed to prove them wrong.
Much like overtaken cars in your rearview mirrors, though, what's past is past. For Fernando, that which cannot be rewritten must not be overthought. The only thing he can do is to decide how he moves forward. If that's staying with McLaren, so be it. If it's exploring a different lifestyle in IndyCar or pushing hard for wins in WEC, then I certainly wish him the best.
Either way, for a team like McLaren, one good result does not rescue an entire season, so while Fernando may be all smiles heading into the three-week break before Spa, it's a bit premature to put on rose-colored glasses and be content with his situation.
For Alonso to battle the rest of the grid is tough enough, but in the last couple of years he's had to account for a pair of factors relatively unfamiliar to him: An awful car, and age.
The foibles of McLaren are maddening enough to test the most resilient of drivers (and believe me, Jenson is proving that with every positive interview he manages to eke out), and it's been far too many years since Fernando has had to grapple with a car this bad. In fact, some would argue that he never has.
But what complicates his fight even more is an ever-increasing number beside his name. You'd be forgiven for failing to brush off a mental image of a 25-year-old Alonso, but he's different now whether or not you can picture it. He's wiser, he's more composed, and he's weathered vast amounts of good and bad since then.
Throughout it all, his passion never seemed to abate. Even in the worst of times at Ferrari he knew the car was capable of springing an upset, and the outflow of emotion witnessed after his home victory proved a palpable outlet for what had been a long pent-up (yet unrewarded) optimism. Although a few hairs had grayed since those days at Renault, the spring in his step remained, the fire in his eyes burned furiously.
Nearly two years removed from that Ferrari win in Spain, we see a different Alonso unafraid to admit that his situation and outlook on the sport are far from ideal. Hampered by countless factors already, a further planned reduction in testing next year has only added more uncertainty to McLaren-Honda's efforts to lift themselves out of the back rows.
Between the disappointing outlook, unfavorable rule changes and the knowledge that time may not be on his side, Alonso is right to consider other outlets regardless of if he admits it.
Nico Hulkenberg's Le Mans win stirred the paddock into a small frenzy, both thrilled at an active F1 driver taking the 24 Hours and excited to discuss the possibilities of future crossovers. When it emerged that Alonso had nearly followed suit to La Sarthe, this revealed the Spaniard's hand slightly.
Now we know that the World Endurance Championship is a viable outlet for his efforts. We know that he considered it, and it is highly unlikely that whatever desire that drove him to investigate WEC has disappeared. Given the growing fanfare surrounding it this year, why not add Alonso to an already impressive lineup of world class drivers? The allure that pushed Mark Webber to transition is not that hard to understand, but here again the 2005/2006 World Drivers Champion may be battling the clock.
What if the WEC proves to be a dead end, though? Of the stages outside of Formula 1, it is arguably the biggest in the racing world right now, but let's say a deal could not be had with the likes of Porsche or Audi.
DTM once occupied a similar niche as WEC, seeing the likes of Mika Hakkinen, David Coulthard and Ralf Schumacher leave F1 in search of fresh competition and winnable races. It seems less popular now, but I would hardly say it's not a viable option.
Formula E is also gaining steam (er...electrons?), but despite the presence of Jarno Trulli, Nick Heidfeld and Vitantonio Liuzzi, this burgeoning series seems keen to maintain an air of youth and newness. While I'm sure FE would welcome a legend like Alonso, I don't think such a deal would be high on their priorities list.
Alonso could do far worse than exploring his options in IndyCar, too. Already a noted viewer of the Indianapolis 500, he was joined by Sebastian Vettel this year in saying that it would be fun someday to try the 500, perhaps when their F1 days were over. (At this point it would have to be since Monaco and the 500 are due to clash yet again next May.)
Alonso would certainly be taking a gamble, though. As the first F1 World Champion to enter IndyCar in quite some time, he would probably be a hot commodity. Known for his brilliance on road courses, he is wholly untested on ovals, but the benefits may outweigh the disadvantages.
He would probably be able to emulate Michael Schumacher's experiences here by enjoying a quieter life in a country where far fewer people will recognize him on the street. A less demanding schedule that has a shorter season, fewer races and barely any of the travel miles would certainly be a plus, but not every IndyCar transition has been as successful as Juan Pablo Montoya's.
Look at Rubens Barrichello, for instance. A Formula 1 record holder and 11-time race winner, Barrichello arrived on the scene eager to get back in a winning car after an unbelievably long career in F1. Friends with Tony Kanaan and a media darling for the Brazilian press, Rubens tested and drove for KV Racing in 2012 with much anticipation. Despite earning Rookie of the Year honors at the Indy 500, the affable fan favorite scored just two top-five finishes en route to P12 in the championship. Unable to find a drive the very next year, he returned to Brazil to compete for Peugeot in stock cars. (He would win their championship in 2014—his first of any series since 1991.)
What if Alonso finds himself in the same situation, though? Or even worse, what if the same thing that nearly forced him into a pseudo-sabbatical this year happens again? What if an ill-timed breakdown in bargaining leaves him high and dry from any racing series? Some would argue that he wouldn't be worse off than he is right now, haplessly and single-handedly pushing his wounded car back to the Hungaroring's pit lane on a 90°F day.
And even if the monetary element of the deal could go through, every year brings Alonso closer to a time when a prospective team may say "I'm sorry, but we'd like someone younger in our seat." Aging may be delayed, but it's never halted. Reflexes eventually slow, fitness proves harder to achieve and recovery times extend. It's inevitable, regardless of the athlete. Even for Fernando Alonso.
But what if he chooses to stay in the sport and finish his career with McLaren? How will the annals of history look back on this stretch in his career? The almost magical finish on Sunday certainly helps, possibly as a harbinger of things to come should the team continue to improve. But I'm almost certain that few people watched Alonso celebrate his second World Championship back in 2006 and thought "That's that. He'll never win another one." I know I didn't. In fact, everyone I knew said quite the opposite, that we were just beginning to see the potential and brilliance of this brash new champion.
Even so, all that time without winning another title will do nothing to his legacy. Some may lament or show surprise that he didn't win again during that stretch, but his race victories and near misses at season finales will maintain his stature. Pairing that with his grit and determination in perennially-struggling Ferraris shifts the focus from what could have been to what may have been wasted. His time at McLaren only cements that chapter of his career in review, pending a momentous turnaround next year.
I can't help but think that people will now look back at Alonso's past and think "He made all the wrong moves at all the wrong times. He left McLaren when he should have stayed. He stayed at Ferrari when he should have left. He left for McLaren when he should have stayed at Ferrari." And since we'll never know what could have been had he made those alternative decisions, you'd be hard pressed to prove them wrong.
Much like overtaken cars in your rearview mirrors, though, what's past is past. For Fernando, that which cannot be rewritten must not be overthought. The only thing he can do is to decide how he moves forward. If that's staying with McLaren, so be it. If it's exploring a different lifestyle in IndyCar or pushing hard for wins in WEC, then I certainly wish him the best.
Either way, for a team like McLaren, one good result does not rescue an entire season, so while Fernando may be all smiles heading into the three-week break before Spa, it's a bit premature to put on rose-colored glasses and be content with his situation.
11 June, 2015
A Maxwell isn't a Maxwell when it's just an engine and frame on wheels
After a long time away from both this blog and The Garage, I'm happy to report that I'm back on track with both. So much has changed in my life in the past few months (mostly for the better), but it hasn't been until recently that I've gotten back to work on the Maxwell and my other projects.
Skipping all the non–car-related stuff, excitingly, the Maxwell is much closer to having a body again.
As you may recall, when I last left this blog in dormancy, I had been working on transferring the moulding pieces from the rusted hunk of the original lower body onto the new pieces of sheet metal that I fabricated. The moulding surrounds the bottom of the door area to the front seats (since the 1910 Q3 didn't have physical doors up there), and they're separate metal pieces that flare out at the top and halfway act as supports for the front seat (and a visual coupler from the vertical angles of the extreme front of the body with the concave back half).
My issues were twofold in making the transplant: First, the mouldings were secured to the old body with difficult-to-remove rivet-like pieces that were very flush with the body (I would later have to grind these down with a Dremel from the inside). Second, I didn't have a very effective way of hooking them onto the new body since I wouldn't be using the existing horizontal holes.
Instead, I had experimented with using the countless vertical holes that dotted the pieces. I drilled through the new body before placing nails through the holes from below. After clamping and adjusting, I soldered around them before cutting off the excess and then smoothing the whole thing. This proved fairly solid, especially when I applied solder into other gaps, but solder doesn't always hold, especially during vibrations.
So I finally bit the bullet and bought a hand rivet gun, hoping to use it to secure both the mouldings and the crosspieces for the front seat support.
The spirit had moved me after inspecting the old body, noting the seven rivets on each side of the crosspieces and seeing that the outer heads had been smoothed over with some sort of filler 105 years ago. This would still preserve my goal of fixing the car without cutting corners and welding, and it would avert the crisis of overpowering the metal by burning right through it while attempting a weld.
I initially bought both 1/4"-long rivets and 1/8", but for the moulding, 1/8" is the perfect thickness. (The diameter was 3/16", by the way.) This may prove to be too thick for the crosspieces, but maybe I'll put a second piece of metal on top of the joint to increase the pressure.
The rest of the process has been very smooth, though. The driver's side (which is right on the Maxwell) is completely done and smoothed, and I've presently affixed the front piece on the passenger side. I've managed to free the last piece, and hopefully tomorrow I'll get that measured and riveted.
The whole endeavor has been somewhat tedious, but it's extremely exciting to see the pieces of this metallic jigsaw puzzle fall into place. With the actual moulding in hand, though, I can figure out how far the lowest point of the cutout stays straight (which is easy to bend). That allows me to hang the piece on the metal, making sure the top flare is perfectly even with the top of the body.
From there, I can pencil around the bottom of the piece, roughly noting where the spine of the metal bend needs to occur. Then I come out about half an inch (to allow for the lip), and I'll bend a few inches at a time, shaping and finessing the angle with a ball-peen hammer. I then check the fit and hammer down any high points until the tops are level, and then I can mark the holes for the rivets.
After the piece is secured, then I use a Dremel to smooth down the rivet heads. A little bit of filler and primer completes the look of a perfectly smooth piece, and it now looks like the part has always been attached.
I must say, I absolutely loved seeing the driver's side panel sitting on the car. For the first time since I set the old body on it long ago just for looks, the old girl seems like an actual automobile both in form and function. It's been a century since smooth, sturdy pieces of metal separated the inside from the outside, helping to create the car's identity, differentiating it from every other pair of frame rails out there. For when you take a step back and see the car as a whole instead of the individual parts, a Maxwell isn't a Maxwell when it's just an engine and frame on wheels.
Instead it's just another anonymous vehicle borne in the era of horseless carriages, when the wheels numbered four and the a round steering apparatus had replaced a tiller. It was part of an ever-standardizing design that had the driver sitting on the right (to see the edge of the dirt roads) with pedals for movement and braking dancing at his feet.
But aside from the giveaway "Maxwell" written in script across the radiator, the car does not assume its true identity until the shapely body sits behind the firewall. The cutouts at the front, the relatively novel doors on the rear, the space for three people in the backseat that gives the Q3 its number, all of it combined makes a Maxwell a Maxwell. The brass filigree is merely a boast, confirming a growing status that the little car from Tarrytown—which would later become a Chrysler—was an eager player in the automobile market.
But instead of factory workers bolting everything into place, I'm doing it myself, alone in The Garage. And instead of the work signalling an emergence into the working world, today it signifies an emergence back into the light, back onto a road that differs greatly from the last one this little car saw 80 years ago.
 |
| The left side back moulding on the old body. |
As you may recall, when I last left this blog in dormancy, I had been working on transferring the moulding pieces from the rusted hunk of the original lower body onto the new pieces of sheet metal that I fabricated. The moulding surrounds the bottom of the door area to the front seats (since the 1910 Q3 didn't have physical doors up there), and they're separate metal pieces that flare out at the top and halfway act as supports for the front seat (and a visual coupler from the vertical angles of the extreme front of the body with the concave back half).
My issues were twofold in making the transplant: First, the mouldings were secured to the old body with difficult-to-remove rivet-like pieces that were very flush with the body (I would later have to grind these down with a Dremel from the inside). Second, I didn't have a very effective way of hooking them onto the new body since I wouldn't be using the existing horizontal holes.
 |
| These are some of the rivets (seen from the back) on the right side of the front seat crosspiece. |
So I finally bit the bullet and bought a hand rivet gun, hoping to use it to secure both the mouldings and the crosspieces for the front seat support.
The spirit had moved me after inspecting the old body, noting the seven rivets on each side of the crosspieces and seeing that the outer heads had been smoothed over with some sort of filler 105 years ago. This would still preserve my goal of fixing the car without cutting corners and welding, and it would avert the crisis of overpowering the metal by burning right through it while attempting a weld.
 |
| Right back moulding now free. |
The rest of the process has been very smooth, though. The driver's side (which is right on the Maxwell) is completely done and smoothed, and I've presently affixed the front piece on the passenger side. I've managed to free the last piece, and hopefully tomorrow I'll get that measured and riveted.
The whole endeavor has been somewhat tedious, but it's extremely exciting to see the pieces of this metallic jigsaw puzzle fall into place. With the actual moulding in hand, though, I can figure out how far the lowest point of the cutout stays straight (which is easy to bend). That allows me to hang the piece on the metal, making sure the top flare is perfectly even with the top of the body.
 |
| Right lower body ready to be cut to shape. |
After the piece is secured, then I use a Dremel to smooth down the rivet heads. A little bit of filler and primer completes the look of a perfectly smooth piece, and it now looks like the part has always been attached.
 |
| Cut and bent, holes drilled, ready for the moulding. |
Instead it's just another anonymous vehicle borne in the era of horseless carriages, when the wheels numbered four and the a round steering apparatus had replaced a tiller. It was part of an ever-standardizing design that had the driver sitting on the right (to see the edge of the dirt roads) with pedals for movement and braking dancing at his feet.
 |
| The completed right side with the incomplete left, behind. |
But instead of factory workers bolting everything into place, I'm doing it myself, alone in The Garage. And instead of the work signalling an emergence into the working world, today it signifies an emergence back into the light, back onto a road that differs greatly from the last one this little car saw 80 years ago.
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