JETHRO BOVINGDON
Will Jethro race in the Nürburgring 24 Hours this year? It’s a tough decision…
‘Internal conflict raged. I lay awake at night remembering the last N24 of which I’d been a part’
IT’S THE MESSAGE YOU PRAY MIGHT COME. And the one you dread. To be honest, I thought those messages were finished for me. Hope had dwindled away until I never really thought about it at all. There would be pangs of jealousy every summer, moments where I would regret that the highest highs I’ve ever achieved in a car were in the past. But for 51 weeks a year I lock those feelings away so deep they never swirl up to the surface.
This time it came from an unlikely source. My good friend, accomplished racing driver, superb journalist, former biscuiteating champion and a man with a deep dose of Nürburgring Fear, Dickie Meaden. ‘Do you want to do the N24 this year?’ he asked. My mind immediately went into overload. Oh hell yes. Oh god no. But it’s the N24. You loved it. You hated it. Without any power over my hands I typed a conflicted reply: ‘Erm, yes?’
It seems BMW were looking for a journalist to drive in an M4 GT4 at short notice. Dickie is retired from the Ring after one of those difficult and mildly terrifying weekends that it can serve up and so had suggested me in his place. Which was kind. I think.
The next week or two was strange. Excitement mixed with dread, which is usual. But somehow it seemed more real this time. I don’t get a chance to race frequently at all these days and sliding around for a camera or even setting a lap time for evo isn’t the same thing. You have to access that last one or two per cent in a race weekend. Assuming it’s still there. Plus, the physical side of an endurance race when you’re fitting it in between real work, travel and family isn’t easy. Arriving to a 24hour event already knackered is not the ideal preparation.
The internal conflict raged. I lay awake at night remembering the last N24 of which I’d been a part. All the way back in 2018. It rained through the night. Hard. I did a double-stint and got the worst of it and those hours were intense and oddly lonely. God, the Ring is dark at night. Even the trackside fireworks and laser lights seemed to be swallowed up by the oppressive rain.
There’s time to think when you’re driving a little slower, too. Yes, keeping the tyres at a reasonable temperature but acting so gently on the steering wheel and pedals to keep the car from doing anything abrupt remains all-consuming. However, without the Pflanzgarten jumps, the deep breaths before running flat through the Foxhole and the mental strain of literally driving as fast as you can around this monstrous circuit whilst GT3 cars come flying past and you’re dodging slower cars embroiled in battles of their own, everything is higher stakes but less frenetic. There’s less overtaking. Less being overtaken. More crashes and hence more slow zones. So your mind can wander just a little. Usually to the moment on the long Döttinger Höhe straight where you report your fuel number and wait for instructions. The dream is a reply along the lines of, ‘Copy. Box, box. Box this lap.’ The living nightmare is that there’s somehow always one more lap.
Yet that double stint was utterly enthralling, with some genuinely special moments. Picking out some tail lights ahead, slowly reeling them in and then passing. Feeling the car respond so perfectly to my requests, leaning on the traction control on corner exit or committing to a fast turn in the spray of another car. Even the odd slithery moment towards the glistening, cold Armco felt slightly nutty but exciting in a way that no other race could replicate. It is truly a magical place. Hell and heavenly all at once.
The lure of racing with a factory team is strong, too. Nobody worries about tyre budgets. If the gearshift is a bit crappy or the ABS isn’t quite right there will be new software by the morning. Imposter syndrome is strong in this situation but what a life! Racing drivers really are lucky people; the focus of a whole war machine of equipment, expertise and energy with the sole purpose of enabling them to drive as fast as possible at all times. Experiencing that freedom for just one weekend is unforgettable.
After days of running through the pros and cons I decided, to my shame, that maybe I couldn’t do it this time. The cars are getting quicker. The GT3 drivers give no quarter and are borderline reckless at times. Crashing heavily on somebody else’s oil or coolant after they’ve tagged a barrier is always a possibility. Weighing all that against the simple, selfish desire to taste the madness just one more time makes it a pretty easy decision. I’m out. The world’s greatest race is now something I’ll just have to enjoy from the sofa.
So, I constructed an email to BMW informing them of my regret and wishing them all the best. It’s in my Drafts folder. I even looked at it before booking the Channel Tunnel for the first test in a couple of weeks’ time. The world’s greatest race. An M4 GT4. Can’t wait. Probably.