October 17, 2004 Yesterday was my big race. Well I'm not sure if the race was that big, only a lap and a half around the Tombstone parking lot, but it was big in another way. The rally cross is my element. For four months, I had learned how to pick my way through cones and mud and all sorts of corners. I had done all of the 'homework' Leon had assigned me, diligently training with him once a week and then practicing on my own. Practice happened everyday, on the way home from work or to school, in rain/shine/dust/wind/whatever. I hadn't gotten enough experience on larger tracks to kick butt on a full scale rally like Gorman, but I was confident that I could achieve decent results at a rally cross. This time I felt comfortable enough to have my brother Mike come out to the race with me. I wanted him to come because he was after all, the one who got me interested in rallying in the first place. I hadn't really driven around friends or family, but tonight I would see about five or six friendly faces in the audience. I'm afraid that they'll distract me, but I am determined not to let that happen. I am also determined not to let the over-enthusiastic hardcore rally crossers in souped up Subarus get to me and my beat up 1984 Celica. I run a DIY punk rock rally, not my credit cards! My car is back where he always stays, hidden behind the Tombstone house. The poor thing's cooling system took a $325 nosedive at the beginning of the week and I decided that I would rather not drive for a few days than blow up his engine. So Big Tom took him in and gave him a new fan, thermostat and water pump as well as a thorough radiator flush. I guess 20 years of hard driving had stuffed him up! Despite the setback, I don't even worry about not having driven all week.

After registration, Leon took me aside to walk the course. He told me to focus, even if it meant leaving the area and the festivities for awhile. I took his advice and chilled out in my car, lining up to run after a few minutes. The first two runs were difficult. The track was very open so there weren't many opportunities for me to get sideways and the dirt had been watered down too much, slowing me down. Because I am a rally driver and a recent college graduate, I'm eternally broke and I could only afford to buy two new tires for the back wheels my car. The front ones were bald and slippery. I felt I was sliding all over the place! I was frustrated, so I left Tombstone to buy gas for the car. When I came back, I took Mike for a ride. This time the track was drier and I really pushed it, harder than before. And it didn't seem like Mike was even in the car, I was that focused! The car did everything I wanted him to do and I was very surprised how far I could push my own envelope! I didn't lift in places where I had lifted before. Suddenly a lot fears I used to have were simply not an issue any more. Mike had a fun ride and was finally convinced that I was a real driver and not just a fan. I had two more runs left in the dark. It was scary at first, but I remembered the driver's consensus at Pike's Peak-"You can't see the drop offs in the dark!" Good point! My lights were terrible, but I kept hammering it, fighting tooth and nail to hit each turn in the most efficient way possible. Leon didn't say much at all during these last runs, although he had vowed to yell at me the whole time. I kept sequestering myself. I wouldn't let people tell me their or my times simply because I didn't want to worry myself or psyche myself out and because I didn't really care about my times. Yeah, I was competing, but I saw this event as one big practice run, a practice for competition conditions. It would be awhile until I would actually go out with the goal of winning an event. Until then, I wanted nothing but to learn and to improve my driving under competition stress. My last two runs were hard and fast. I had never, seriously never gone so hard or so fast. My only downfall was my attraction to cones. I hadn't toppled any so far, but I had come close, sending four cones tipping and the audience wondering if they would fall. Cones carry a three-second penalty, but I wanted to avoid them as they could be a rock or other hazard in a rally. Of course, as luck would have it, at last run, at the last corner, I knocked down a cone! I didn't care at this time-I couldn't see it, I wouldn't win anything anyway. When it was over, I went into the Tombstone house where Leon was waiting to lecture me. I didn't feel well. I had the post race adrenaline migraine. The first thing that he told me was that I did well. Then it was the cone. And then it was the cone that could have been a rock, which was a valid point. I wasn't giving myself much of a margin of error. I'll work on this in the future. Leon had told me earlier that he would gauge my performance by the other Toyotas at the race who were nearly as old as mine. He told me that I smoked them. I was happy. He told me that I was fourth in my class. That was great! I mean, where was I last time? Fourth from last, in a front wheel drive car, scared to damage him! We heard some clapping and Leon looked outside. It was the awards ceremony. I stepped out and people were calling my name-"Lisa, where are you?" I came out to the gathering and the MC said that I won! No I didn't, I came in fourth! And then stupid Leon started grinning like an idiot. "You won your class," he said "And you came in sixth overall on bald tires and a piece of shit car!" I couldn't believe it, but I guess it must have been true because the MC handed me a hat and four free meal coupons to a yummy restaurant. I screamed and jumped and started crying and hugged Leon and my brother. I have never won anything unconditionally before. This was all me, I did it without anyone DNFing. I didn't have to share it with anyone. I had earned this after three months of training and hard work. I was truly happy, and Mike and Leon were right there with me. I thanked them profusely and Leon especially. Lord knows I couldn't have done it without him! After all of that, I was exhausted. But even as I lay in bed that night, I was already going back to the drawing board. I need to practice at night, in the mud and rain and at going fast. I need to give myself room to correct. I need to focus earlier and visualize corners more often. Doing well on a rally cross is a great way to start. It was hard, but the driving came naturally. I was pretty damned ecstatic! Right behind that feeling was the knowledge that all six of those runs would only make up only one very short stage on a bigger rally made up of 16 or so stages. This was a good experience. If I could keep focused and drive hard, surely I could make it to the end of a rally! I was happy and I couldn't sleep. Finally, my hard work had paid off and that made me want to work even harder. And as I tossed and turned, I was very thankful that Leon had spent so much time and money on me and on rallying in general in SoCal. My good luck and skill seemed inexplicable, yet I was so grateful for them both and for the people who brought about their convergence that I couldn't help but cry a little as I finally fell asleep, happy to have won not only an event, but also a lot of respect! And that was the best part overall. Mike and Leon told me after the race that everyone was asking about me. For the first two laps is was "Who is that?" Then it became "Who is she?" No one could believe how well I was driving in my old car, or that a woman could drive so well. But I had proved that I could do it and the win showed that I did do it. And the guys all wanted to shake my hand. That was the best part, the feeling that I had earned the respect of the rally cross community and that I had at last become a rallyist in my own right. Back to Diary of a Driver.