Curve de la Cuvette, Circuit de Lédenon
MARK HALES ON A LITTLE KNOWN FRENCH CIRCUIT THAT SHOULD BE MORE FAMOUS
LÉDENON CIRCUIT lies near the city of Nmes, on France’s south coast, about 80 miles by road north-west of Marseille, a journey that will take you past the spectacular Camargue National Park with its massive complement of seabirds and wildlife. The track opened in 1973 and has since become an essential feature in France’s racing calendar as well as with its trackday fraternity. It is still run by the family that founded it, operating for around 300 days each year.
Yet when I mention it to friends and colleagues, most affect a blank look. It’s well-known in France but not elsewhere. I’ve raced there a couple of times – in the VdeV historic endurance series – and it remains one of the toughest learning challenges I have experienced.
Like many European circuits, it looks as if the designers have tried to cram as many turns into the available space as they could, a strategy that does not always make for an interesting drive. All that changes when you add a hill or two. Lédenon’s road runs anti-clockwise over a wildly undulating, rocky landscape, offering more elevation change than anywhere else in France: from memory there are at least four hairpins, all blind and of differing radius, while the straight past the pits has two brows, just to make sure you don’t get too comfortable.
At the end of the pit straight there’s Triple Gauche, which, as its name suggests, is a le# turn with three apices, taking a quarter-mile or so to wind back on itself, tightening gently all the way. The entry is hidden by the straight’s second brow, or at least it is until you get close, by which time instinct has already said ‘It’s a le#-hander, stay right until you are ready, and lose the speed on the brakes.’ Damn. Just look at all that road out to the right, which makes me feel as if I should be going faster. Just as well I gave away the speed though, because now the second apex is coming up fast and I’m too tight to the le#.
We’re not done yet though. The road is still tightening and the third apex is still to come, and did I mention that it lies just before yet another brow, and that there’s a right-hand curve on the way out as you dive down to a hairpin? Hides your view, as brows always do. Takes away the grip when you need it most.
It took far longer to work out than it should but the first essential was to commit blind while still on the straight and start easing across the road before I could see any of the turns, and to do it all with more speed on board than felt comfortable. When the entry came into view, I’d already be on my way to clipping the first available bit of kerb on the le#. That would hopefully send me wide and allow me to continue losing speed while aiming further along the kerb for the second apex. Obvious now I know, but not then.
Having decided on early commitment, equally important was how much speed I could take towards that first out-of-sight apex and how much of the road’s width a#erwards I might need in order to lose it and still make the next apex. For those of you not yet lost among the dunes, it should be clear that this is a massively complex set of compromises that can only be researched every two-and-a-bit minutes, and whose effectiveness you can really only judge as you look at the board just before you start again. If you put enough work into something like this, though, you can certainly reap the rewards come Sunday a#ernoon.
Lédenon’s real blast comes at the end of the lap. There’s a long downhill snake where the car gathers speed very quickly but which allows early sight of the 90º le# at the end. This relatively tight turn lies at the bottom of a bowl – the literal meaning of cuvette – and it compresses the car’s front end to such an extent that it must nigh-on double the amount of grip. The blackened surface is testament to those who have tried to exploit the extra and it remains the only place where I ever managed to turn the tyres on the Crosslé’s rims.
It also allows you to aim straight for an apex you can clearly see, and do it from a very long way back. Normally – and if the corner was laid on the level – you would have to lose a huge amount of speed and open out the turn, but here you can try to get the bowl to do most of the work. You really should, too, because the road climbs so very steeply on the way out – all you can see is the sky – that, if you mess up the corner, the gradient will double the penalty. Think Cadwell’s Mountain on a much larger scale.
Just as with Triple Gauche, which will soon be on you again, the trick is deciding how much speed to take in and how early to aim. Elevation: it’s the magic ingredient that enlivens any track.