Spa Six Hours

[misteralz]

'I really should change the starter on the 964.' - Me, on Sunday afternoon. After tea I got the back up in the air, wheel off, driveshaft off, heater tube out and wiring disconnected. And oh.




That's not supposed to be crunchy.

[misteralz]

I've owned this thing for eleven years at this point. And in that whole time it's always been intermittently terrible at hot starting. There have been a combination of factors contributing to this, and I've dealt with them. New earths. New ignition switch. New fuel pump non-return valve. New cylinder head temperature sensor. And now a new starter, which, let's be honest here, was an absolute sod to change. And now I really need a new positive lead to the starter. No problem. I look up the part number and fire an email off to my usual supplier.
Nope. I email Porsche Amsterdam. Nope. Rose Passion list it for 550€, delivery time unknown. Balls.
The problem is that it's not just the power cable to the starter, but also to the ignition switch and fusebox. Looks like I'm going to have to repair this. After a trawl around my local industrial estate nets nobody willing to repair it or provide parts to repair it myself I traipse off to a DIY place. 10mm aluminium tube? Perfect. I buy a length and head home.
At home I strip back the positive cable to shiny copper and do the same to an old earth lead. I crimp the two bits together with the aluminium tube and heatshrink the absolute bejeezus out of it. Connect everything back up and discover the speed that my starter should have been turning over at all this time. Fab. Time for a test run!
I take it out for a decent run, get it properly, properly hot, then stall it reversing back up the driveway. It restarts immediately! Yessss! I leave it for ten minutes to heatsoak and it restarts immediately. Excellent. I reverse it back into the garage and get it back in the air, just to check everything.

[misteralz]

Of course it isn't fine. There's limited space back there, and having a rigid piece where I had it has changed where the cable wants to sit. Between the trailing arm and the hydraulic lines for the power steering. There are witness marks. It'll probably be fine but the consequences of it not being fine are too high. I'm taking the Golf.
Thursday morning dawns and I'm remarkably okay with that. I get caught in a proper rainstorm passing Schiphol and I'm glad of decent wipers, and heat, and the fact that if someone aquaplanes into me then a mk5 GTI is a lot easier to replace. This feeling evaporates at my first stop, where I meet up with some pals who've taken the ferry over from Scotland, England, and Ireland.




In their Porsches.

[misteralz]

Yep, the first stop is Porsche Gelderland, where one of our party has arranged a tour. The showroom is cool.










The private collection is insane.

[misteralz]

Next stop is in Germany, and we're half an hour or so from the border. I lose the others in typical Dutch traffic but figure it's not a problem as I'll catch them up over the border. And I do - I spot the yellow 964 pulling into the first services as I sail past at nearly 200kph. Ach well, it was a Serways and they're consistently gash. I'll stop at the next one.
There isn't a next one, and soon enough I'm in Wuppertal. I fill up with 102, Orangina, and a frikandel Brötchen, then head back to our next stop.

Early911S won't let us take pictures of their storerooms, but we were awestruck. Their collection and workshops? No problem.
















Next stop? The spa in Spa to pick up a pal, then our accommodation for the next few days.







Got caught in some proper weather. That beer was well deserved.

[misteralz]

Next morning dawns bright and cold, and damp to boot. Last time I was at Spa I was crewing for a pal racing his E30, and naively thought that there would be a food truck or two. There wasn't and I had to scrounge sandwiches from him. Not wanting to make the same mistake again, we head to the supermarket and stock up on pain au chocolat and Oasis, then head off to the track. The classic parking is an event in itself.




















































The Samba convertible? Find another.

[misteralz]

Figuring as it's Friday, quiet, and neither of us had actually done it before, it might be an idea to walk the track. So we do. It was well worth it - I'd only ever spent time around the track around the paddocks so it was nice to see the rest of it. The elevation change is probably about a kilometre over the entire length, so it's a workout.































There were kids selling sausages from a brazier under the grandstand at Raidillon. They were excellent.

[misteralz]

Walking around the outside of the track, though? Sitting in grandstands? That's F1 stuff. This is historic motorsport. Let's get inside the track.














































Ohhhh yessss.

[misteralz]

It's autumn now, and night falls quickly. As does the rain,and the main Friday night race is cancelled after a couple of laps. We alternate between the bar and the grandstands for a bit, and leave sometime after 10. Thanks to roadworks and random road closures it takes us about an hour to get back. It took us fifteen minutes to get there...

[misteralz]

Saturday, and the Six Hours proper. But that doesn't start until nearly four. Time for a leisurely breakfast and then a look at the museum in Stavelot.

[misteralz]

A local (and weird) festival adds some time to our exit, but we see an actual BX4TC as we're trying to get out. Eventually we escape Stavelot's gravitational pull and reach the circuit. Or rather, one of the circuit's further away car parks. Some good spots are spotted.










Again, we flit between grandstands, the bar, the paddocks, the pit garages, and the pit lane. Yes, you read that correctly.

[misteralz]

The Six Hours is brilliant. The maddest bit is the refuelling. It's not in the pits. It's at the petrol station. Turns out you prepay before the race, and afterwards get either some cash back, or a bill. The attendant hands the racers the nozzle, and they have to fill up themselves. This adds a whole new variable to the whole endurance race, because you can legitimately hit the pumps at rush hour.

[misteralz]

The weather is cold the whole time, with occasional showers. The safety car is out a LOT. The claws are out, and we see multiple spins from the grandstand at Raidillon. And a coming together of a Cobra and a GT40. Ouch. The race is red flagged for some reason or another literally a few minutes from the end. The surprise of the night is the third place car is a Lotus Elan. The first two are GT40s, although given half the field were GT40s that's maybe not such a surprise.




























We traipse back to the car park expecting a mud bath and a traffic jam, but we're obviously hardcore as it's empty and we're out in no time. Ironically, the only vehicle that needs to be recovered is a Land Rover Defender. We take a different way back and we're in bed within half an hour. Sunday sees breakfast in the same cafe and a trip to the supermarket for Belgian delicacies. I drop my pal in Verviers then point the GTI north-ish. Going via Aachen sees me avoid traffic around Liege and Maastricht, then I get caught in the mother of all snarl-ups heading through Amsterdam. C'est la vie.

I still haven't fixed the 964. It can wait.

[zeberdee]

That looks like an epic way to spend a few days .

Good write up & pics .

👍

[misteralz]

It was indeed. Very cold, though, and definitely not for everyone. I spent a lot of time wishing I'd brought a thicker jacket. And gloves. And better shoes for walking in. Gazelles are not it.

[skinnylew]

Epic. That refuelling method is nuts and awesome 😎

[stealthstylz]

What a ace trip. I really need to make more time to do stuff like this