Firstly, the snow.
We hid in scrutineering. I asked about checking ride-height. F1 has the plank.
“We have a skid block, that need to be a minimum thickness. Its pretty much the same thing.”
So the race was quiet at Copse inside, with only Nakajima pulling up with a puncture, then driving away again when we reached him (which always happens). After the race, instead of dashing out of the circuit, I headed over to the Wing to enjoy the atmosphere. I met up with Matt, my good friend from the Race of Champions (aka #DancingMarshal) who is also the most the super-enthusiastic passionate race fan ever. We looked at the cars in Parc Fermé. A man with badges on his jacket (FiA, ACO, WEC) came over and asked us with a French accent “Are you the fire marshals I asked for?”
Err, no. But we can be. If you need two people, we’re two people.
So we found ourselves amongst the cars. Which was a bit awesome. Here the Toyota, there the Porsche. Here an Aston, there a Ferrari. And the Audi.
Ohhhh the Audi. A member of the technical delegate approached us. “I realise you’re volunteers, but we could be here some time. Maybe, one or two hours.”
“He means three or four,” said Matt.
I went back to my car for a coat, and stopped of at the WEC hospitality for some coffees. Lovely lady, very obliging.
Two hours (ish) later, and an *ahem* senior figure arrived to check we were ok. Things were clearly getting tense. Half an hour after that, and he’d bought us both a Chinese take-out. Which we ate. In Parc Fermé. With our fire bottles.
Then, three chaps emerged and began to push the Audi into the garages. Not wanting to touch the cars without clearing it with the exacting (and clearly exhausted) official, I pointed at myself and made a pushing motion. “Oui”.
So we pushed the troublesome prototype into the garage. “Bien?” I asked.
Five minutes later and a notice goes up. The No. 7 Audi was to be excluded. Because its front skid-block was of inadequate thickness.