The title of this article echoes a phrase I’ve heard a lot lately, and I want to share a few, seemingly-unrelated short stories which I think give meaning to it.
First, it’s not what I’ve learned about driving and racing that’s most meaningful to me. It’s what I’ve learned from the driving and racing, and the people in it, that I appreciate the most. In fact, I’d say that the best part of spending half a century (wow, that’s a long time!) in and around motorsport and cars has been the people I’ve met. And coming from the world’s most-introverted person, that’s saying a lot (in fact, learning how and when to manage my introverted-ness is one of the most important lessons).
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At a recent Porsche club (Suncoast PCA) event, I heard at least half a dozen people say, “It’s not the car. It’s the people.” They were either responding to something I’d said about the community feel their event had, or a general comment about why they were all there.
I’ve been to some events where it was about the car… and even about how much drivers could show off and brag about their cars. To be honest, it even seemed to be more about the egos than the car, and definitely more about the car than the people. The Suncoast PCA event was not like that. No, it certainly was about the people, and the cars were just a commonality that brought them together in the first place.
A couple of months ago, a 2-year-old daughter of a family member (who was at an event the club was holding at Sebring) began having serious health issues while at the track. I don’t have all the details of the story, but I understand that within hours, club members sprang into action, and very soon, young Sophia was being flown to St. Jude’s Hospital, and treatment for a type of blastoma was underway. She’s been there ever since, undergoing chemotherapy treatments, amongst other things.
I’m sure we all agree that it’s not fair that a 2-year-old should be experiencing this kind of medical issue. And no, I’m not saying anyone deserves it, but in a child, it just seems especially unfair. (If you’d like to learn more about Sophia’s Road to Recovery, go to https://www.facebook.com/groups/952155239216064; or to the GoFundMe page at https://gofund.me/1ae6265d)
At the club’s recent Sebring event, they held an auction that raised a sizeable amount of money, but just a fraction of what Sophia and her family will need for her future. The way people stepped up to help a fellow club member and their family was at the core of “It’s not the car.”
I know that many other clubs and organizations have done similar things to help out their fellow members, and that’s the point I want to make here: It really is about the people, and how they help and support each other.
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When I attended the Suncoast PCA’s Sebring event a year ago, I did a series of mini-workshop sessions, talking to drivers about everything from the mental game of driving to how releasing the brakes just right was the key to speed, and from being an even better instructor to how to sense the limits of one’s car. I also spoke after their banquet dinner on the Saturday evening, telling stories from my career.
Getting to the track at 7am, talking and interacting with drivers all day, then wrapping up things up with this after-dinner talk made for a long day. Oh, then there was the dozen or so people who wanted a one-on-one discussion afterwards (which is always enjoyable, but I was beginning to fade). As I finished talking to everyone, I looked over and saw the club president and chief instructor. I started to make my way over to say goodnight to them, when I noticed one other person who had been sitting patiently for everyone else to leave.
Tom Mathews, who I was about to meet, approached with a white plastic bag containing something. After shaking hands and introducing himself to me, he said, “I want to give you this because I appreciate what I’ve learned from you.”
Opening the bag, I was shocked to see a model of a yellow Lotus Europa. Holding it in my hands, I marveled at the skill it must have taken to build it. This was not a pre-made die-cast, but a hand-built model. And then taking the rear deck off the car, in the tiny (it was a Lotus!) “parcel tray” that made up the storage area in these cars were models of… get this… a copy of my first Speed Secrets book, and my all-time favorite book, Thinking Body, Dancing Mind. He had made actual tiny models of these books!
Who does this kind of thing? People like Tom, people who understand that it’s not just the car. It’s what we do for each other, and the impact we have on others that makes our sport, our community, our family what it is, and why we do what we do. And, well, Tom, who had learned of the impact a yellow Lotus Europa had on my life when I was an early-teen.
At my request, a few days later Tom sent me photos of the build process of the model; I appreciated it even more, especially when I think of the time, effort, and skill it took to custom-make models of the books, along with building the Lotus model. It’s positioned in our house where I’ll see it every day.
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Ironically (or not), the motorsport and automotive journalist (and amazing storyteller and writer) Sam Smith (formerly of Road & Track, Automobile, Hagerty, etc., etc.), Jeff Braun (one of the best race car engineers in the world, and my co-host of our No Dumb Questions podcast) have spent the past few weeks recording a few episodes of a new podcast we’re launching early in January. The name of the podcast? “It’s Not The Car.” Yup, we had played around with and settled on the title while coming up with the concept and theme for the show, and then all of a sudden other people kept using that phrase around me. Coincidence? You be the judge.
Why “It’s Not The Car”? Because there is always a deeper story behind every car. We’ve jokingly referred to the new podcast as, “An auto journalist, a race car engineer, and a driver coach walk into a bar…”. We’ll talk about a mix of topics, but a common theme comes back to how it’s the people involved that make each story what it is.
For example, we take Alexander Rossi’s 2016 Indy 500 win, and peel back the layers to get to the people that made it an incredible victory; we talk about the McLaren F1, a special car, but discuss why it is, and what it means to people in our world; what it’s like to have written for magazines like Road & Track, being able to test amazingly cool cars, and how people in that world are the envy of many; how the people in a big German company partnered with the best British driver of the era and his fellow countryman/journalist to win one of the most grueling and crazy 1,000 mile races through Italy back in the 1950s; and more stories like that.
I’m sure you’ve noticed the common thread throughout: people. I’m excited for the launch of the podcast.
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No doubt about it, I believe that it’s not the car, but the people, that make our sport unique. But also, for me, it’s the driving of the car.
I can appreciate people who love to show their cars, whether in shows or the local Cars & Coffee events. There’s nothing wrong with that, because even there (I think, I don’t go to many!) the people are part of what makes it worth doing.
But for me, cars are meant to be driven.
Funny, but a few months ago I was out for a drive in my old Lotus Elan. I had laid my phone down on the console just after stopping to take a photo of a really nice bit of scenery. Somehow, just before accelerating away from a stop and down a twisty piece of road, I managed to hit the video and record button. But the phone was pointing straight up toward the sky, and it ended up recording my hand making each shift up through the gears (only four because in the late sixties they hadn’t learned how to count to five and make 5-speeds). If you want to watch it (it’s only about 15 seconds long), click here, and turn up the volume. The thing is, I’ve had more people comment on the video when I posted it on Instagram than practically anything else, because it wasn’t a photo of a car. It was a car being driven.
Often, though, while I’m out just driving my Elan, or after a coaching session with my driver in his LMP2 car, or talking to a group of drivers or instructors at a HPDE event, I think about the people involved in these things. I think about Colin Chapman, founder of Lotus and the one who famously said, “Simplify and add lightness.” I think about what’s going on inside the mind of the driver of the IMSA car. I think about the differences in experience, motivations, and skill levels of all the drivers at these learning events.
So, I guess, even when it’s about driving, it’s the people in and around the cars who make it interesting and fun.
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Finally, I want to leave you with this story attributed to Kurt Vonnegut, as I thought it applied to how we approach what we do on the race track. I think it also demonstrates how what seems like a simple comment from someone can have a major impact on our life; how people impact our lives. I’d like to believe that we all think about what we say or do to people, knowing that it does make a difference, no matter how small our words or actions seem to be.
“When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of ‘getting to know you’ questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes.
“And he went WOW. That’s amazing! And I said, ‘Oh no, but I’m not any good at ANY of them.’
“And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: ‘I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.
And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could ‘Win’ at them.”
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But wait, there’s more. Thank you for subscribing to my writing. As I’ve mentioned in the past, if no one reads my writings, it would get kinda lonely here in my little writing room. And thank you for the comments that you leave below. I love reading them all.
To my fellow Canadians, I’m sorry (see, saying sorry proves I’m Canadian) for not sending you a Happy Thanksgiving wish a little over a month ago, but here it is now: Happy Thanksgiving!
To my American readers: Happy Thanksgiving!
To everyone else: Happy Whatever Day It Is!
Happy Holidays, everyone!
Hi Ross, apparently “It’s not the cars it’s the people” is not just a PCA slogan but across the auto enthusiasts world. That’s my experience as a newbie to PCA, HOD, or WRECC’D. The car is the container in which we put our humanity and endeavor and come out better together.” That’s not what I expected but it is what I have experienced. Thank you for the Vonnegut quote a valuable lesson for all of life.
Ross, brilliant piece. We're honored to have you as a coach and friend at Suncoast PCA. Looking forward to all you have to share with the new podcasts. Thank you and Happy Thanksgiving.