Here is the star of the show! She is Bianca DeWeiss, a 1985 Porsche 911 Carrera. And, she is the reason I began track driving. In June 2015, I nearly lost her at a rainy track driving event. Since then, Bianca is saved for date nights with my sweet hubby. Now, my track car is a fully race prepped momentum machine: a 1990 Mazda Miata built for NASA Spec Miata Class racing. Her name is Moxie, and I am still learning to drive her.
The brilliant Bianca has a 5 speed manual transmission, aircooled, “bullet-proof” 3.2 liter flat 6 cylinder rear engine. She looks like Audrey Hepburn, and moves like Beyonce Knowles. Rear engine, rear wheel drive. How many ways can you say booty? And she is indeed a treasure to me. Stock, with street tires, she has given me 2:35 lap times at VIR. (Yes, all those hairy sweaty truly fast drivers out there are getting lap times at 2:15, but they have noisier and more powerful cars. I’m hoping that they can’t fold laundry like I can…so can still feel like a hot shot!) And: I am a person who drives like a mom…because….Duh!
I love her growl, I love her pickiness– and in case you’re wondering, YES she does have the 915 transmission and NO I won’t be installing a G 50 thankyouverymuch. If my attention to the left foot wanders, she lets out a yowl.
Bianca has got style, and grace. She can go from carpool drives to gatorade runs, she can dress up in heels and a little black dress and hit the town, and — best of all — she can show her true serious bad-assness when the situation calls for it. On track. Did I mention: I love my car?
Driving Bianca is like bareback horse riding: she feels raw, primal, and deliriously intoxicatingly intense. The absence of power steering, the lack of traction control, pre-invention of anti-lock brakes, and the heady scent of leather and fuel combine to produce a full assault to my senses. I feel like she was made for me, and when I drive her she is an extension of my body and mind. Suffice it to say: it is a visceral experience to drive this car and I am grateful for the chance to do it.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I drive around town with a goofy grin plastered on my face, feeling dizzy like a teenager who has just experienced their first kiss.
The sassy silver ballerina in my life is Moxie. She has a 1.6 liter four cylinder engine, and came to me having put in about 100K miles on tracks along the East Coast.
She has a full roll cage, racing seats, HANS compatible harnesses, a fire suppression system, a racing steering wheel, a kill switch, and tow hooks everywhere! Here’s what she doesn’t have: windows, muffler, or ignition key. (Well, she does have a muffler now!)
Moxie is a flash of lightening that sparks with speed! If I touch the brake, I lose the ability to harness that flash. As a driver, I need her. So I can learn to optimize momentum and habituate my skills to operating with only very minimal braking on track.
Thanks for reading, and wish us luck!