I have gotten to drive and ride in a bunch of great cars in this job, including a 1920s Bentley, a new Lamborghini Gallardo and a race prepped Mazda Miata, but nothing prepared me for a ride around the indoor race track in a Three Quarter Midget.

Racer Timex Morgan had brought his two-seater down from Rochester, N.Y., and offered members of the press five laps around the track at the Dunkin' Donuts Center which hosted a series of Midget and Senior Champ Kart races last weekend.

The worst moment for me was actually getting in the car. It is hard to imagine how tight a squeeze a ride in a race car can be. First there was the set of fire proof overalls which all drivers wear and which are probably best known for their bright colors and logos.

Then sliding into the aluminum shell that serves as a seat. It is a very snug fit indeed with its extended sides and head braces curving round to envelope you. Then there is the five-point seatbelt - two shoulder straps, two lap straps and a crotch strap all meeting at a central buckle over the stomach. Then the neck collar, helmet and gloves.

Well, I confess I am given to claustrophobia and got as far as the helmet before I found myself being forced to jerk it off to get a breath of air.

Timex asked me if I was alright and I had to admit to a touch of claustrophobia. He said not to worry and even confessed to the same problem on occasion.

"Keep the visor open for the first lap," he said. "You'll soon get over it."

Meanwhile, this pantomime had attracted the attention of a bunch of drivers and mechanics, many with big, tattooed forearms, who were watching with some amusement as was my colleague, Journal photographer Steve Szydlowski who had already done his five laps.

"It's not so bad," he called in encouragement.

"That's not the problem," I replied meekly. "I'm getting claustrophobia."

This confession was the source of much merriment among the tough-looking crowd.
"It's all right for you," I said to Joey Payne, who is one of the stars of the Three Quarter Midget circuit. "You're a tough guy, I'm not!"

But tough guy or not, it was clear I had no option but to forge ahead or face utter humiliation. So on went the helmet and gloves and off we went, the first lap at a fairly sedate pace.

And of course within half a lap, I brought my visor down and signaled to Timex that I was ready for what he had to show me. My claustrophobia was literally already blown out with the exhaust.

He signaled thumbs up and slammed the car into a high-speed chase around the track that involved squealing and sliding through the corners and head jerking acceleration and braking down the short straight-aways.

Was he driving flat out? Sure seemed like it to me. But it was a two-seater, so no doubt we were running slower than the competition cars.

And he had been advised by the promotional folks to "thrill 'em but don't spill 'em."

And that was fine by me!

- Peter C.T. Elsworth