Fast Trac Racing Targa Team returns with Trophies!
The #601 Fast Trac Racing 1978 Porsche 911 Targa, driven by owner Casey Holzman and navigated by Bob Saville, returned with wins in their class and category, and placed 6th overall. The event took the team through some amazing scenery and allowed us to meet some of the nicest people anywhere.
Below are some pictures and an article that Casey wrote that describes the week quite well....click on the pictures to enlarge.... we hope you enjoy!!
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| Pictures of Racing action | Pictures of Other Competitors |
(More pictures coming soon)
The Ride of a Lifetime
by J. Casey Holzman
What an incredible time Fast Trac Racing had competing in the 2004 Targa Newfoundland in September! With a core team of J. Casey Holzman owner/driver, Bob Saville navigator and Jim Burton crew chief we not only finished a long and grueling event, we were eye-openingly competitive, placing 1st in class, Standard Specification, 1st in class large displacement, 3rd overall in the Modern Division and 6th overall in the Targa competition.
Ever have a goal in life that you knew you just had to complete? Well that was the case with me and the Targa Newfoundland. 2 ½ years ago I was approached by someone who wanted to compete in this unique event. Unfortunately I was not an experienced enough driver to go then. I hate being told that, don’t you? At that point I committed to myself that someday I would get there and I set out to get the experience I needed. The first step was to buy a 911SC that I would be willing to track. Forgive me, all you racing purists, but I bought a Targa. Kind of fitting though, when you think about it.
So in the next 2 years, after 30 some-odd track days in Driver’s Education events and 4 club races (the last of which I won my class), I felt like I was finally ready. Not knowing what the future held I decided mid-March that I needed to just go ahead and sign up for the Targa. No navigator, no sponsors and honestly no idea what exactly I was getting into.
This event is BIG. If you haven’t heard of the Targa Newfoundland, here is a quick run-down. It is one of three Targa events held in the world and the only one in North America. It is modeled after the classic Targa Florio and consists of cars competing along public roads for time. Competing cars have a 30 second or more staggered start between the car in front and behind them (it is not wheel to wheel racing, but passing is allowed) and each car has a target time to beat. The Targa Newfoundland runs over a course of 2300 kilometers with 38 some odd stages of competition. There are between 6 and 8 stages a day for 5 days. Each stage is between 2 and 45 kilometers long.
The logistics for competing this event were huge. Once I committed to run the Targa, I began looking for sponsorship. At first it seemed like an impossible task to get help, but then I decided to seek out those companies I had used in the past to build my race car into what it was: a competitive PCA class “G” car that was well sorted out. From first-hand experience, I can attest their products are top of the line and highly recommend them.
I was amazed at all of the positive feedback that I got from the businesses I solicited for sponsorship. They all seemed to see my vision and were willing to provide various forms of support. First Carolina Orthopaedic Specialists signed up (yes, I broke my hand earlier in the year and I can say that Dr. James Stanislaw is exceptionally competent). Then came Exclusive Motors (I’ll get back to Bob in a minute). Blue Ridge Business Services…As my Primary sponsor, I cannot say enough good things about Art Weiss. He had absolute faith that we could succeed and his belief proved to be well founded. These sponsors were then rapidly followed by Stable Energies (great safety products), TRE Motorsports (well fitting fiberglass parts), Pelican Parts, Toyo Tires, CatchitCam (we ran 3 in-car cameras!), Bellebags.com, Coca-Cola, and of course Eurowerks owned by Jim Burton.
By the time August rolled around the car had enough decals that I was running out of room! More importantly though, I had a firm commitment from Bob and Jim that they were going to go. We were also bringing along Larry Cornwell, a sports writer, to document the event from our perspective.
Our departure date was September 8th and it arrived far too quickly. Still, everything was packed and ready to drive the car from Charlotte to Nova Scotia. Larry and I were driving up and had to delay our start due to hurricane Francis. We then had the pleasure of driving 30 out of 31 hours with it raining as Francis followed us all the way up the coast. It continued to nip at our heels as we took a 14-hour ferry to Newfoundland. Ever cross part of the Atlantic in a tropical storm??? It was a little bumpy.
WOW. Is all that I can say about Newfoundland and the people that live there! The event itself was absolutely incredible. Nothing could have prepared me for what we were in for at that point in time. The Targa event is like running the World Rally Championship through your neighborhood. Every stage we ran was either completely in a town, started in the middle of nowhere and ended in a town, or visa-versa. Throw in a lot of one lane roads, gravel all over apexes and braking zones, countless patches and potholes and you get some idea as to the condition of the roads. Now twist those roads around blind curves, up and down large hills and intricate coastlines and you have made yourself one heck of a road course!
After making some quick changes to the car’s ride height (we ended up about 3 inches higher than US spec), we were ready for the 1st day of competition. This was one of the most focused and intense things I have ever done. Sure I had driven high speeds around a track before and understand traction limits and control, but on the track you drive 1 turn 1000 times. On a Targa you drive 1000 turns 1 time. There is no forgiveness for errors as we went over blind crests into turns that if missed would send you hundreds of feet down into the ocean. Yes, on several stages they had rescue divers standing by on boats in case a car didn’t make a turn.
How did I get through it??? All I can say is that Bob Saville did a great job keeping us on course. I have no idea how he managed to call out turn after turn, some less than 50 meters apart as I drove at breakneck speeds. No, he didn’t get motion sickness either. Turn after turn he consistently called out the next “tricky bit” as we hurtled down the course. Constantly looking at his pace notes, then at our Helius Odometer, then the road and back again he would calmly provide that extra set of eyes that gave us the edge.
We took turns on 2 wheels in Gander, caught air driving 160 kph on our way to Leading Tickles and bottomed out the car on about every stage we ran. Town stages were a blur of faces and white picket fences and the open countryside required a vigilant moose-watch as we drove hard to meet our target times.
Each timed stage was separated by a drive through a combination of stunning coves and fishing towns followed by vast stretches of flatlands covered by short scrubby pines that almost had you believing you weren’t on an island. Everywhere we went there were fans waiting at the edges of their driveways, waving Canadian flags and taking pictures of the parade of passing cars. The Targa event had planned stops along the way where we met our fans in schools, retirement homes and parking lots. Yes, we were celebrities there. Bob and I signed our autograph hundreds of times. Pieces of paper, programs, hats, shirts…it didn’t matter. It was a chance for them to get a piece of history being made in their hometown.
The last stage of Day 1 instantly hit home just how quickly our chances of success could end. Within the first 3 turns of the stage I went to shift from second to third only to have the gearshift go slack in my hands. Multiple tries to get the car into third proved useless and valuable time was being lost as we coasted through the next turn. Finally I realized the car was stuck in second gear. So what do you do in a Targa then?!? Keep driving!!! I babied the clutch through hairpin curves and redlined the engine on straights as we wound through the course in Clarinville. Somehow it all worked out and we managed to beat or target time by over a minute and a half!
Jim Burton’s skills were quickly put to the test as we begged for the use of a lift in a Canadian Tire store. Luckily, all that was found to be amiss was that the main shift rod had jumped out of the guide fork on the access plate. I asked Jim what caused the problem and he responded by saying, “some idiot was shifting too hard.” Ok, I can understand that, but my real concern was would it happen again? Jim: “I don’t know…it all depends on the idiot that shifts it again.” Hmmm. Well, we were soon back on the road and hadn’t missed any of the competition.
Day 2 proved to be fairly uneventful and the transmission showed no signs of having any more issues. We finished the day in the town of Gander as the last stage went through a neighborhood. Every turn was a right angle and with all of the rights and lefts we took I am sure we had to have doubled back on our course at some point. The crowd was magnificent and we had thousands watching us scream through the turns. Target times we needed to beat were definitely getting harder and we only made our time by three seconds. At least we made it. The only bad news was that we were doing the course in reverse in the morning…with the target time being dropped by 17 seconds. Ouch!
Day 3 began with the Gander stage. Armed with gripier brake pads, lower tire pressures and a determination to succeed, we launched from the start. I kept the car on edge and pushed as hard as I could. 6.75 kilometers later we crossed the finish. I looked at Bob and asked, “Well?” He stuck his hand out in a consoling way. “Congratulations. You beat yesterday’s time by 22 seconds. You did it!” Whew. Now we had only 20 or so stages to go.
Although or morning Gander stage was noteworthy, Day 3 will forever be remembered as “the day of the ditch incident.” We successfully navigated the 30.25-kilometer course out to Leading Tickles, but ran into a problem on the next stage when we ran the course in reverse. With only 3 km to the finish we were traveling uphill on a one-lane road that made a 90-degree left turn. Unfortunately, cars running in front of us had spread gravel all over the turn as well as the braking zone. With the inevitability of the tides, the car slid across the intersection towards a very large ditch. I tried braking, then throttle steering, then more brakes as I tried to get the car to rotate and make it to firm pavement. It was too late. We went mostly tail first into a 4-foot ditch. The car came to rest with the nose pointing up at a 30-degree tilt. Bob made a few choice comments. I could hear the crowd go from cheering to that fateful “oooooohhhhh” golfers get when they miss a putt. It wasn’t over in my mind though. I was still driving until the car had to be lifted out with a crane. I tried reverse…the car moved back a foot, stopped and the nose started to slide into the ditch as well. Not good. I flicked the car into 1st and dumped the clutch. With a tremendous roar of the engine that was only outmatched by the amazed cries from the crowd, we leapt out of the ditch and were back on the road! I think we managed to catch air, but I’m not certain. Thankfully we were still in the running. Fearing the worst of the car but unwilling to give up, we raced to the finish, beating our target time. I checked for damage when we had a chance…incredibly there was not a scratch. Fortunately Newfoundlanders didn’t store their rocks in that particular ditch.
By the end of the 3rd day we were sitting in the top 15 with only a 3-second cumulative penalty. Many cars had fallen out by then. I was amazed at how well the 911 had stood up to the challenge. Bob and I continued to hone our communication skills and even began to feel comfortable with the pace and intensity of the event. As we pulled into the arena, Jim was there waiting to hear what maintenance he might need to do. Like a son wanting to avoid getting into trouble with dad I answered cryptically, “uh, why don’t you check over the whole car tonight, ok?” He must have spotted the grass stains on the tires and the clods of cattails in the rear fender well at that point because he started to say, “wait a minute, what did you do?…” I pulled away as fast as I could to the carwash to erase the evidence.
We moved up in the rankings by Day 4 and were in the top 10 overall. The stages we were running took us to the beautiful harbor of Burin. The roads wound their way along a magnificent drive flanked on one side by granite cliff faces and the other a breathtaking drop of hundreds of feet to the ocean. It was here that we ran a section of road that all too late I remembered seeing footage from 2002 of a Subaru wreck as it hurtled over a blind crest. Lost in the fog of the sweeping turns, I pushed hard through that same crest as I stayed to the right. Unfortunately, Bob had made the call for me to stay left! Too late. We crested the hill only to watch the road bend to the left and not come back to the right for hundreds of meters. Catching a little air we dropped onto the same gravel shoulder that claimed the Subaru. Quickly taking a racer’s perspective I convinced myself all I had to do was hold the car straight and in the next 200 meters the road would wind back under us. See? A shortcut! Bob wasn’t as thrilled, “I said stay LEFT!!!” Oops. “Sorry,” I mumbled. What else can you say? Then I spied the Citroen 400 meters in front of us. Goodie, I think I can catch him! The race was back on; the last hair-raising moment was past. Besides what else are you going to do? This event is a Targa… whatever it takes to finish.
Day 5. The times needed to make our targets were getting harder and harder to make and the pressure was on for the last day. This was the day of the high-speed stages covering distances of over 40 km. We flew by road signs warning of 50 kph bends in the road while going 200 kph and battled poor visibility as fog covered much of the course. The moose were out and we kept a watchful eye. There were no towns, only short scrub trees. Pretty soon I felt like Mel Gibson in the Road Warrior as the unmarked landscape ticked by. I wish I had an amazing story to tell of our last day, but by then we had felt like we had experienced it all. The car held together, I stayed on the road and Bob kept calling the next turn accurately. By the time we finished our last stage we had accumulated only 1 minute and 12 seconds of penalties. Absolutely incredible.
The following ceremonial finish parade into St. John’s was the best feeling. Throngs of people were waiting to welcome the competitors down George Street. The winning cars were to the front of the procession and that is exactly where we were! We received our first of several awards as we drove in: the one just for making it to the end. We parked the car for the last time and got out with mixed feelings of relief and disappointment that it was over.
This was a brutal event. Out of 47 cars that started only 22 of us finished all stages; 6 were undriveable. We had covered a distance of over 2300 kilometers over those five days.
I was asked a question by the media when I drove across the finish line: Would I be back next year? The whole event came crashing back to me as I tried to absorb it all. “Yeah” I said, “I’ll be back next year.” I’m sure of it.
The team would like to recognize our sponsors, who without their support, this venture would not be possible:
Primary Sponsors:
Secondary Sponsor:
Additional Sponsors:
Carolina Orthopedic Specialists
And a big THANK YOU to Carfix in St. John's, and Canadian Tire in Clarinville, who both let us use their shops for some impromptu repairs.