Free your inner need for speed
On indoor asphalt provides an experience inspired by Monaco’s legendary F1 track
It was my time to race. All those decades of driving lawn tractors and secondhand Japanese subcompacts with high mileage and rotting mufflers, all those summer trips behind the wheel of a minivan crammed with camping gear and boogie boards, had led me to this.
Like many men, I’ve always suspected I was endowed with an innate racing gift. There would have been a place for me alongside the Andrettis, Schumachers and Villeneuves of this world, if only I had had access to the right set of wheels and training. I can even drive standard. But the need to provide for my family forced me to relinquish the stick shift and opt instead for the dependable and growing field of print journalism. I drove past the many go-kart tracks sprinkled around the island of Montreal with a heavy heart and unrequited longing.
Until now. I chose the Action500 karting track in Laval for its proximity and because its indoor asphalt track, the largest in Canada, is less slippery than standard concrete tracks, making it child — and neophyte — friendly. Its owner, Frederick Martel, is a former rookie of the year and Canadian champion in the Formula 125 and Formula Ford racing series. His career came to a halt at age 17 because he couldn’t raise the $1.5 million necessary to race in the Formula Atlantic series. So he bought the Action500 go-karting centre in his early 20s, which features karts made in Quebec.
I slipped on my racing helmet, plunked myself down into the low bucket seat and strapped on my five-point harness. Behind me, the low rumble of a 6.5-horsepower Honda gas-powered engine sprung to life with the throaty roar of a gas-powered lawn mower. Instructions were easy: right foot for gas, left for brake, don’t intentionally bump fellow racers or you will be expelled. And never get out of the kart on the track.
I would have the track to myself, with the exception of a young phenom named Matthew who happened to be celebrating his 10th birthday. We would tackle a cunning serpentine route based on Monaco’s legendary F1 track with one straightaway that allowed me to floor it and rocket to the kart’s max speed of 40 kilometres an hour. Most adults opt for the ninehorsepower cars capable of hitting 70 km/h, but I felt it safer to restrain myself to the cars meant for children under five feet tall in order to not give full rein to the demons within.
Birthday boy got pole pos- ition and started first. Hesitant initially, we were both quickly zipping through the tire-lined labyrinth at speeds his mother would not have approved of at all. Driving right on his bumper, braking hard and whiplashing around turns, sometimes fishtailing out in a sideways skid but most often not, we were lost together in a world of speed. Matthew crashed just once, without incident, and the track crew rushed out to free his vehicle from the tires. We would do roughly 25 laps per 10-minute session. Between our three 10-minute races, we took short breaks during which we could go over race statistics and talk strategy. We were only seconds apart in best times, and by our final race, we were within a second and a half of the top times of the month. As I suspected, world domination was within grasp.
The only negative of the day is that the 10-year-old ended up notching the fastest lap time of our three races. But I know the reason from my years of armchair race car driving: He must have had the faster car on this day. I will need to have a difficult but necessary talk with the mechanics.
We will race again.