Testing And More Testing Before Michigan
Entering the Yankee 400 at Michigan, the big story has been testing of new
cars, at Charlotte and at Daytona. The Charlotte test of lower down force
coupled with the larger roofline greenhouse was an unqualified failure. But then
the test shifted to larger spoilers and some stabilization was achieved, though
Jimmy Spencer and crew chief James Ince disagreed on the cause – Spencer
credited widening the spoilers, which were only five inches in height, while
Ince credited softer tires used in the test.1
Though the test results improved, five inch spoilers are still too low for
true stability, and softer tires aren’t likely to seriously improve competition
– the aero push steadily got worse and worse with softer tires and tires didn’t
help solve the problem until the too-brief switch to higher stagger in August
1999.
The other test was of lower down force cars at Daytona, and predictably the
results weren’t that encouraging. Spoilers were shaved to 4.5 inches in height
with four inches shaved off the sides. The cars were "out of control"2
and drivers still ran open throttle. A switch to a 15/16 plate from the 7/8 inch
plate made it worse, and speeds exceeded the safety cut-off point of 190.
After rain cut short the test some crew chiefs were talking of two different
aero packages mandated by NASCAR for Daytona and Talladega, with teams raking in
more down force to their Daytona cars.3
At apparently no time was there any honest throttle working (largely impossible
at Daytona anyway), and rain cut short any hope of drafting, which would almost
certainly aggravate handling problems created by lack of down force.
It will be a big surprise if we see any serious changes beyond a banning of
changing the location of the body on the chassis – a change a Ford team owner
compared to the Team Auto Racing Circuit’s proposed rules package, and which
"will obsolete every car I own."4
Certainly it is utterly stupid to have two different aero packages for Daytona
and Talladega, because the differences between the two tracks simply don’t
justify it. The lack of stability of the cars by themselves ought to veto any
reduction in down force right away.
And none of this does anything to solve to problem of the weakness of the
draft. "They might be able to get up to an inch (in the restrictor plate)
if they put a little more drag to the cars," said crew chief Ryan
Pemberton.5
But to get more drag they’d have to go back to an aero package like the 2000-1
roof spoiler package – the larger greenhouse sure doesn’t add any extra drag.
The wistfulness of hope for a throttle-response race at Daytona shows how
little historical perspective goes into these issues. Bobby Hamilton describes
"the moral of the story is gonna be we’d like for the speeds to be around
188; we need to lift in the corners; and we need to keep the packs separated."6
Daytona has never been about lifting for the corners, it has always had large
packs – the increase in the number of competitive teams is far more responsible
for the huge growth in the packs, which is by no means a negative one, than the
restrictor plates – and every time NASCAR tries a package that supposedly will
make drivers lift, it fails – the two tries of the 5&5 rule, the 1998
Daytona test that was the baseline for this recent one, the larger greenhouse
without larger spoilers.
The Charlotte test likewise showed that one cannot race without down force.
Mike Mulhern compares7
the test to Bobby Allison’s 1988 Daytona win where Jimmy Fennig lowered the rear
spoiler to the minimum to beat Davey Allison; Mulhern doesn’t mention that
Allison’s Buick was a high-down force car (the Buick was the GM10 body with the
highest down force of all; therein lay its downfall, for it paid a price in
straightaway speeds) and Keith Almond’s engine was the best of that day, thus
Bobby had the edge over Davey. It certainly wasn’t because he could out drive
Davey – never mind Darrell Waltrip, who had a stronger car that day in the
far-slicker bubble-glass Monte Carlo SS – in the corners, and the 20-degree
minimum spoiler went away after a series of crashes where cars in traffic lost
it by themselves.
Down force is vital to racing. In the 1970s Chevy teams had a handling edge
because the Monte Carlo was the bulkiest body and thus had the most secure
footing on the racetrack; the 1971-4 Dodge Charger had the best balance of all,
combining plentiful down force with slicker straight line. The switch to
notchback bodies in 1981 graphically showed how important down force was, and
the ensuing decades have shown it all the more.
Many blame the increase in down force for the aero-push, but that is not the
case. It is the elimination of the draft that is the cause; the cars displace
far less air than they once did, so the cars are not sucked forward into the
lead. This is what has made Michigan races and everywhere else so uncompetitive.
Michigan once was a racetrack where the average number of lead changes in
NASCAR races was 50. When car bodies raked the draft out, the competition
suffered – there was a brief respite in June 1991 in a rip-roaring multi-car
slugfest where the lead changed 30 times in a 15-lap stretch after the day’s
only yellow and 32 official times total.
CART solved its competitive problems with the Hanford rail on its rear wings,
and the draft has made their events on two-mile ovals must-see races. The high
air intake, large rear wings, and general bulkiness of the IRL’s cars make for a
good draft, albeit more inconsistent than it should be. NASCAR, instead of going
the retrograde route of lowering down force, needs to increase it and also
increase raw drag even more, to make drafting machines out of these racecars.
Michigan would thus be a sure bet as a great race. As it is now, fuel mileage
will be a factor, and whoever leads will have things his own way. It will be a
huge shock if we see real racing – lead changes, door to door combat – at
Michigan this weekend.
The Silly Season keeps getting sillier – scheduled press announcements on
Ricky Rudd and Elliott Sadler have either been pushed back again or outright
cancelled; about half the starting field of a typical race may change drivers,
crew chiefs, owners, or all of the above.
Has there ever been a more bizarre silly season? Darrell Waltrip’s 1978-80
fight with DiGard and Rusty Wallace’s 1989-90 squabble with Raymond Beadle were
the nastiest such squabbles in the sport’s modern era until now, and compared to
the Rudd saga don’t even have half the head-spinning quality.
Where will Rudd go? Will Elliott Sadler drive a third Yates car or one of the
established ones? Will there even be a third Yates Racing team? Will Ganassi
Racing have Rudd? Will Spencer be axed for Bobby Hamilton? Will Hamilton go back
to Petty Enterprises or will Jerry Nadeau stay after all? Will Jerry Jones have
any drivers? Will Andy Petree stick around there? Who will drive the Wood
Brothers #21? Will Steve Park be axed from the Earnhardt #1? Could Robbie Loomis
find himself in a pickle at Hendrick?
Talk about head-spinning.