Following the NASCAR Camping World Series East Mohegan Sun 200 at Lime Rock Park, Conn., track media man Rick Roso offered me a ride in a Mazda 3 with champion race car driver and Skip Barber Racing School instructor John Murphy at the wheel.

The car was not race prepped, so apart from a helmet, safety was limited to a regular seat belt. Two additional "passengers" took the back seat and off we went around the 1.53 mile track in the company of three other identical red Mazda 3s.

The idea was to give us five "hot," or fast, laps in a sort of race with the other cars. No doubt the whole exercise was old hat for Murphy and his racing/instructor peers, but it certainly wasn't for the rest of us.

Indeed, I felt like one of those tourists packed like Jumblies on the yachts that ply the waters off Newport during the summer while the crew performs what must seem like magic to someone who has never sailed before.

Well, what sailing is to Newport, racing is to Lime Rock. Off we went and it was clear that they were going to drive fast and competitively.

One thing became very clear almost immediately. Watching a race car going through its paces and being inside a race car going through its paces are two very different experiences.

The former is exciting in an abstract kind of way; the latter is exciting in a visceral way and as Murphy plunged into the first corner, drifting some, tires squealing and tore out into a short straight before the second corner, it was all I could to hang on with what Roso calls "the death grip" and push against "the imaginary brake."

Certainly, there is a big difference between going into a tight corner at 35 mph or so, and going in not only at 65 mph but also just feet off the rear of another car squealing its way round, tires smoking.

On the first lap, one of the other drivers thought it would be amusing to sidle up to us at 70 mph on the main straight and hit our side mirror with his own.

It was amusing, actually, and totally exhilarating, especially after a couple of laps or so when I noticed that Murphy was holding the wheel of the car with his fingers. It seemed such a contrast - the delicate touch on the wheel versus the violent, squealing corners with the car often coming off the track as its outside wheels hit the bumpy edge and dusty grass.

As we again came down the main straight I commented on this - it was impossible to say anything as we were lurching through the corners - and he laughed and said learning to relax and not clutch the wheel was an early lesson.
I then slowly began to relax my grip and stance and was astonished to find that not only I felt as safe as I had before, but a lot more comfortable.

And I remembered an earlier visit to Lime Rock had included learning to drive a race prepped Mazda Miata on the autocross course, and how I had been utterly exhausted at the end as I had been turning the wheel this way and that in a death grip all the way round.
I came away from that experience with new found respect for the physical strength and fitness of race car drivers. But clearly there is a lot more to driving a race car than holding on for dear life!

- Peter C.T. Elsworth