DAYTONA, Fla. – Patrick Bertinelli and the No. 93 Krewe of Helios-Arizona Suzuki GSX-R 1000 tested the laws of physics during practice sessions yesterday for the CCS Race of Champions at Daytona International Speedway.
Hugging the fabled 31-degree banking in NASCAR Turns 1, 2, 3 and 4, Bertinelli wound the GSX-R 1000 up to 180 miles per hour and more, appearing to ride almost parallel to the apron of ‘The World Center of Racing.’
“I don’t care how I finish,” Bertinelli said after his first practice session. “I just want to survive this weekend and make it back in one piece.”
Part of returning safely to Arizona would entail learning how to drive like a Floridian.
Apparently, every resident of the Sunshine State is required to slam on their brakes before using their turn signals (when they feel the need to use their turn signals.) Team sponsor and crew chief Stacy Bertinelli acknowledged her relief at purchasing the extra insurance for their rental car after braving the Florida Turnpike.
“It’s just like New Jersey’s – only there are more old people and less dead bodies,” she said. “Though after a week of driving with these old people, I could make some additions to the dead-body count.”
The carnage at Daytona International Speedway included two red-flagged practice sessions, leaving Bertinelli and fellow Arizona racers, Dave “Mouth of the Southwest” Stone, Ray “Marlboro Man” Thibodeaux, Alan Chook “Me All Night Long,” Matt “Just Happy to Be Here” Heppler and Gary “Fender Bender” King, limited opportunities to experiment with gravity.
As you read this, Stone is probably still complaining about his tires.
With record-setting temperatures in the upper 80s with 90 percent humidity, the Birthplace of Speed did not offer a gracious welcome to our heroes. Throughout the afternoon, menacing clouds threatened a downpour, but did nothing to mitigate the stifling heat.
“I’m starting to have fun,” Heppler said. “But I still can’t get used to those banks.”
The 31-degree banks proved more vexing for our Arizona racers than a golf-cart traffic jam at a four-way stop in a Central Florida retirement community. Running parallel to the pavement and just a few feet from the wall, Patrick Bertinelli clocked his fastest speed at 182 miles per hour.
“If something happened, I wouldn’t even know it until it was too late,” he said. “I have learned today that I do not have big balls of brass – I have medium-sized balls and that’s OK with me!”
After ten hours of racing, our Arizona contingent returned Garage 21 bowed but not beaten by the bodacious banks – and ready for a full weekend of racing.
“It was a great day,” Chook said, “because nobody crashed.”
Amen to that, brother!