BACK TO PALMER, THE BEST DRIVING EVENT IN THE WORLD
“It took the doctors two hours just to wipe the smile off his face” is a quote from Top Secret – one very hilarious movie I used to watch on repeat as a teen. The VHS cassette was worn out, but the image is as fresh as it was almost 40 years ago. It’s 2023, and I’m driving a manic single seater wholly by myself, taking a back turn at 150kph, and thinking, “Yes, it would take the doctors some time to wipe out the enormous grin.” I’m back at Palmer Sport. Couldn’t possibly be any happier!
One early June morning
We wake one early sunny spring morning in our London-based apartment and laboriously head towards the unassuming Kia rental. It’s an hour and a half drive to Bedford Autodrome, and we should be there at 7:30am. It has been quite a long time since our last visit there. Too long, if you’re asking me. We’re going to the Palmer Sport track event. A full day of racing against the clock in multiple racetracks and vehicles.
As we drive northwards, the urban London scenery gives way to a classic English countryside of green fields and rolling hills. It’s still grey and cold as we park at the reception area and sit down to an English breakfast of eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes. Not exactly a recipe for a “breakfast for champions,” but my brother, nephew, and I all but gave up long ago on a career in F1. Being precisely on time and waiting until the last laggards show up, we tag along with one of Palmer’s group managers for a tour of nearby converted aircraft hangars.
The setup
Based on a former World War II RAF Base, Bedford Autodrome is the brainchild of former F1 driver and visionary Jonathan Palmer. It took five years to convert it into a complex of racetracks. Designed to be driven by high-performance road cars, it has larger-than-usual runoff areas and does not have sections of concrete safety barriers which could seriously damage a car if it skids off the track. The complex includes a main Formula-type 3km West Circuit, a 2.5km South Circuit for touring cars, a technical 1.2km East circuit full of tight turns for the Bravehearts, a 1.6km (and surprisingly fast) North Circuit for prototype racing, a kart track, a tight gymkhana park, and an offroad trail. Overall, seven completely different tracks, for seven different types of cars, with more than 11km combined. Yummy.
The “goodies” hangar
Entering the hangar is like entering a car junkie Nirvana. Dozens upon dozens of race cars of all types are lined, fueled, and ready for the day’s racing. There’s a line of B.M.W M4s with menacing aero kits and full roll cages. Next, as if to give the Bimmers a counteroffer, parked a long row of super-light Caterham Super Sevens. On the opposite side, flush a red line of Formula Jaguar single-seaters. Behind those are Formula Jaguar’s two-seaters which will be used for training before going solo.
There’s also a line of serious Land Rover Defender off-roaders, and on the corner sat a group of Ginneta G56s, purposely built GT4 race cars. There’s also a classic Jaguar E-Type on one of the lifts, a collection of F3 racers, and other motor paraphernalia of sorts. We exit the hangar while still trying to catch our breaths.
Long ago, I wrote about Palmer Sport which also advertises itself as “the best corporate day ever.” The idea is simple; plan a full day around different driving experiences, build a team of coaches that can help guests push their driving capabilities to the maximum, throw in lap time measurements for competition’s sake, add breakfast, lunch, and free snacks to the mix, and market the hell out of it. I don’t know if the result is “the best driving day in the world.” I am certain that it’s one of the best driving days money can buy. And while we’re on the issue of money, you’ll need 1,230 British Pounds to participate. Clearly, this isn’t for everyone.
Off the beaten track
We start the day slowly with a short bus ride to the off-road track. Although it’s early June, the skies are autumn grey, and the temperatures are low. We huddle in a wooden shack equipped with an electric heater and wait our turn. A few short minutes later, my name is called on the PA. I step outside and into the clean and tidy Land Rover Defender. Opening the right-side door, I’m greeted by Leslie, my coach for the ride. I settle in my seat, trying to get myself acquainted with the righthand steering configuration.
I pull into 1st gear using my left hand, and off we go. The idea here is not to be fast but accurate. Palmer’s off-road track is a varied mix of extreme offroad features, including steep climbs and descents, deep ponds, a gushing river crossing, side slopes (scary), and narrow coulisses, which you need to drive carefully to make it to the other side.
All along the track hung numerous tennis balls, which you must hit smack with the middle of the front windshield. The friendly folks at Palmer even drew a bullseye on the glass to make it easier. Getting it just right awards you 5 points. Now, how hard could it be driving slowly and hitting tennis balls? Quite hard, judging by my so-so score of 50 out of 70 possible points. Well, off-road was never “my thing.” Still, the adventure is fun, and Elvin is super-nice. I take my mediocre score with a stride and move on to Gymkhana Park.
No Ken Block
Two Caterhams Super Sevens are waiting on opposite sides of a large car park divided in the middle into two identically marked tracks. To win, you’ll need to run a series of tight turns culminating in a small drawn roundabout and a complete stop. To succeed, you’ll need to memorize the sequence of required turns and execute them as fast as possible. Leading the session are two Palmer couches which demonstrate how it should be done. They both accelerate their tiny, nimble cars into second gear, easily navigate the turns and dispatch the final roundabout in a spectacular full opposite-lock, Ken-Block-Style doughnut drift.
We each have three turns to try our best while the rest of the team observes from the comfort of the shack. I’m scheduled to be one of the last to try, and judging by the lame performances of the rest, setting a good lap on this track is not as easy as it looks. My predecessors missed turns, got their direction wrong, and none managed the doughnut without spinning the car into a complete standstill.
My turn
It shouldn’t come to you as a complete surprise that, when my turn arrives, I approach the car with concern (and shaky hands). Francesco, my Italian couch, greets me as warmly as Elvin and helps me to set the seat correctly and buckle the race harness. In hindsight, the whole ordeal seems a bit futile as the maximum speed on the tight Gymkhana does not exceed 50kph, but at this point, my focus is elsewhere, namely, trying not to “cock it up” in front of everyone.
I press the accelerator and lift off the clutch as the light turns green. The little monster shoots itself forward violently, burying my helmet deep inside the top of the bucket seat. It doesn’t take a second before I complete the rev scale and pull into 2nd as the tight right twist approaches. Darn! This little thing is fast! I’m trying to wrestle some control over the little manic beast as I get to the final circle. I turn the steering, but the car continues straight into the approaching barrier. I plunge the gas paddle in panic and wind up in an out-of-control spin. Yes, this is much tougher than it looks. The second run is way better, but I still botch the final roundabout, trying to doughnut the car around, only to wind up in a spin and a standstill.
For the third run, I try a different approach. I take the track as accurately as I can, giving some speed away for better control. When the final circle arrives, I try something no one else has done before and slow down the car. Taking the process like a stroll in the park with no drift or spins. Returning to the shack, I see my name on the top rooster, far above the rest. YES!!
Love Palmer stories? Here are some more posts you might find interesting
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* The ultimate driving guide to Tirol
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* The ultimate offroad riding guide to Nepal
A jinni called Gineta
Warm up’s over. The bus drops us at Bedford’s North Circuit, a 1.7km track containing 7 corners, some of which should be taken at full throttle. This fast course is easy to learn but, as I discover later, hard to master. We get a quick brief and a short intro to our new race cars – a series of eight Ginetta G56 GTAs. I giggle as the thing does look like a car taken from Grand Theft Auto franchise. The oddly-named, aggressive-looking car looks initially like a road car, but it isn’t.
This purpose-built on-track performance GT car hosts a rumbling naturally-aspirated 3.7-liter V6 Ford engine under the hood, powering the rear wheels via a sequential Hewland MLG-200 gearbox. The body kit is a menacing piece of work with spoilers, fins, and gills to satisfy even the most asserting illegal street-racing connoisseurs. Like any good movie set, the exterior, however, is but a thin veneer of light fiberglass dressed over a steel tubular frame.
The result is a light 1,100kg race car with a perfect 50:50 weight distribution. I open the paper-thin joke of a door and wriggle my way through the mess of tubes into the deep bucket seat. Harnessing myself with the assistance of my coach Sam, I lay my hand on the carbon-fiber wheel and explore the jungle of buttons and dials. “What you really want to pay attention to,” says Sam, “are the shift pedals, the redline limiter LEDs, and the gear number indicator.”
Taking on the Gineta
We slowly head into the same track I did some years back, that time with a surprisingly good Renault Clio and a disappointing 911 Carrera. Would the Ginetta be as good as the Clio or as bad as the that Porsche? I think to myself as I press the accelerator, and away we go. I soon discover the Ginetta supersedes the Clio, and then some! This manic piece of machinery is a true blast, making a quick work of the course with all the mechanical drama of a true Diva. It brakes hard, turns quick, and runs like stink. With the help of Sam, I soon take the chicane without lifting the gas and accelerate all through the back two consecutive left turners.
Brave Sam keeps talking on the PA, telling me where to break, what gear to be in, and how to best beat the clock. I get out after 15 minutes that seemed to me like five, all sweaty and happy, thinking I’ve managed to score an easy win only to find out I’m only XXX. Damn! I really need to do the Ginetta dance again. Alas, our group coordinator was waiting for us on the bus that would lead us to the next challenge on Bedford’s East Circuit.
Back to basics
Once upon a time, cars were basic. My 1980s Peugeot 1.6L GTI did not have airbags, decent crumbling zones, ESP, ABS, 16-speaker sound system, Bluetooth, noise insulators, 19″ wheels, breaks the size of Turkey, electric-powered seats, Powered-assisted steering, turbo-charged engine, dual-clutch transmission, air condition, and a host of other features we take today as granted. That made it very basic but also very light – just 840kg! And as a result, very fun to drive. Compare that to my current 1.6-ton, 484hp M2 CS, and, well, you get the idea. To give you an idea of how impossible it is to make such a car today, compare the 5-seat 205 curb weight to today’s tiny Smart Fortwo – 990kg. They don’t make them like they used to do in the 80s
Or do they…
Meet the Caterham Super Seven. A bare-bone 1950s relic that gives the word “Spartan” a real-world meaning. The small, open two-seater is produced in a shed in Dartford – just east of London. The design is based on Lotus founder Colin Chapman’s original 1957 blueprints. Some things never age! Equipped with a straight-four 2.5-liter engine, this Caterham makes only 200hp. This may not sound much initially until you realize it only weighs 640kg!
Add lightness (Yes. Really)
Much quoted but often ignored, “Add lightness” was Chapman’s addition to the Hall of Fame of Motorsport’s one-liners. The car in front of me is his living testament. The East Circuit is the perfect playing ground for this extra-light and nimble machine. With 1.2km, this is the shortest and most technical of the four main tracks. Full of bends, turns, and curves with little to no straights, the East Circuit is where a light-footed car and an able driver shine. With an engine mounted in the front but fully behind the front axle, both driver and coach sit practically on the rear differential powering the back wheels.
This initially feels a bit like my old Z4M, only this one is way more dexterous and agile. Its grip also goes far beyond what one would expect from such a small and simple machine. The Super Seven devours the tight chicanes and corners effortlessly, providing direct, unassisted feedback and making fun of my fears and anxieties. Whenever I think I’m about to spin it, the Caterham proves its limits are higher than its current driver. When my time’s up, I pull myself out of the car thinking;
- I could have done much better with more practice.
- This thing is fun!
Feeling slightly worried about my lap results, I’m surprised to see my name close to the top of the roster. Time to try something different.
Add lightness (No. not really)
We are chauffeured to the grand South Circuit, a 2.4km wide and fast track. It is everything the East Circuit isn’t, and so are the cars that await us ordered in a neat line. Six blue and yellow, angry-looking, latest-gen BMW M4s. With hideous giant kidney grills up front and massive wings at the back, they give the impression of a Rottweiler-sized Bulldog that just saw the neighbor’s cat stealing scraps from its Dog bowl. But we’re not here to provide an additional critique of the latest designs from Munich (Just to get it out of the system, we all agree BMW designers should have had their hands broken and sent walking to a re-education camp in Maranello). We’re here to drive the fastest, most powerful car of the day.
The M4 is the antithesis of the Caterham. Lucifer to Archangel Gabriel, Ayatollah to Beyonce, A bleeding rare Sirloin to veggie salad. You get the point. Tipping the scale at more than 1.8 tons and equipped with a 3-litter, straight-six engine churning more than 500hp, it’s three times the Super Sevens in almost any aspect. But would it be three times the fun?
A whole lotta Rosie
I get in, buckle up (no race harness), glance at the premium design of the dashboard, press the Start button, and off we go. The South Circuit is all about speed, with long straights and fast follow-through turns. The M4 is fast, exceeding 200kph at the end of the two long straights and averaging more than 130kph overall. Compared to the other screamers, this Bimmer’s engine burbles almost silently as it shoves the mass of the car relentlessly. Unlike the others, this is no race car. The M4 is a street car designed to be fun on the track. But is it, really?
The short answer is no!
You can fool everyone, but not the laws of physics. There is simply no hiding the sheer mass of the M4. The chassis is communicative, but the race-tuned suspension struggles to keep the bulk of a car from diving and rolling at every change of direction. The steering is good and precise but nowhere as direct as the Ginetta’s or Caterham’s. But that’s not the only thing that’s wrong with the beast from Bavaria.
Fun is not just about being fast
For reasons known only to the engineers (or, perhaps, accountants?) in Munich, the Bimmer comes equipped with a traditional planetary Auto gearbox. It works fine but can’t hide its humble origins as a component designed for comfort. The M4’s paddles change gears accurately but without the speed and determination of the former dual clutch system (RIP), not to mention a proper manual.
And so, the fastest car around is also the least rewarding. I get out of the car, not looking back, not caring to see the lap times and my position on the overall roster.
Following a quick run at the go-kart races and a decent lunch, we head to the West Circuit and the highlight of the day – Formula racing.
Formula who?
At 3km, Bedford’s West Circuit is the longest. With 12 corners, it’s also the most complex of all the tracks here. This is the home of the Formula cars.
We arrive at the grand pit lane, where 16 racecars await us. The first eight are yellow-blue Formula Palmer two-seaters. We will first drive with our Palmer coaches to get acquainted with the car configuration and the lengthy circuit. The next in line are eight red single-seater Formula 3000 racecars. We will drive those all on our own later to see who laps the fastest.
I hopped into one of the open seaters and was greeted warmly by my instructor. The two-seater “La-Mans-esque” racer is a real looker. With a long, low profile, open cockpit devoid of windshield, massive front wing, and a narrow “shark nose,” it looks the business. The rear is dominated by a massive rear wing. It resembles the one at the back of the BMW M4, but with only a third of the weight to handle, it should be way more effective.
There’s also a massive Jaguar 3-liter V6 engine producing not so massive 265hp. Never mind. With a car so light and aerodynamic, that should not become a handicap at all. The Palmer brochure announces that: “Our instructors will help you unleash all of JP-LM staggering acceleration, braking ability, and cornering grip on the West Circuit – indeed, this is the nearest you’ll get to jumping into a Le Mans prototype and heading off around the famous French circuit!”
Overpromise, underdeliver?
Come on! I seriously doubt the facility at Bedford, impressive as it may, can resemble anything close to the famous tarmac on the other side of the English Channel. Be it as it may, with dry asphalt under the Formula Palmer JP-LM’s sticky slick tires and a handful of useful advice constantly streamed over the intercom, our lap times shrink persistently.
The west circuit is a true joy, filled with plenty of turns of all types. You got chicanes, fast bends, hairpins, technical sections, flat-out sections, and combinations of all the above. It’s a track that’s hard to learn and master, which makes it interesting, challenging, and – yes – exhilarating when you get it nailed!
The car grips hard, about 2Gs in a corner, well beyond the boundaries of any road-legal vehicle. It accelerates fast, breaks well, and the unassisted steering is alive with feedback. I do feel some Electronic Stability Control intervening in some of the corners. I later discovered it was just my coach braking ahead of me. Probably didn’t want us both killed.
And just when I thought I had it all figured out
The west circuit is a true joy, filled with plenty of turns of all types. You got chicanes, fast bends, hairpins, technical sections, flat-out sections, and combinations of all above mentioned. It’s a track that’s both hard to learn and master. This makes it interesting, challenging, and – yes – exhilarating when you get it nailed!
My last lap is by far my best. As I break hard toward the Southeast Chicane, I cut one of the corners a bit too much. My instructor tells me I might have gotten panelized by the electronic system. I might have a few seconds added to that last lap. Back in the pits, I look up my name on the lap time screen and find that my last lap was indeed my best. I also find I got 3 seconds added for cutting that corner. The combined time put me somewhere in midfield, far away from the leaders. Bummer!
Nothing’s like the real (almost) thing
As the day draws to a close, one elusive car remains. Driving an actual F1 car is probably on top of every petrolhead’s wet dream. But, let’s face it, that’s a fantasy no one of us mortals will ever fulfill. Palmer’s Formula 3000, however, is the closest we’ll ever get. All things considered, it’s pretty darn close. The recipe for Palmer Formula is simple. Take the same engine from the JP-LM, and put it inside an even smaller, lighter car. Add all the necessary aerodynamics, throw in F1 looks for good measure, and voila!!
We go to another room for a video briefing and a couple of warnings (which can be summed up as, “Don’t do stupid s***”). We then receive each a fireproof racing suit. Adorning it instantly makes us look as cool as Steve McQueen (I suspect it’s on purpose). Now, with the groove in full “ON” mode, we approach our low-slung racing machines.
The red car I’m about to enter is probably the closest I’ll be to driving the “real deal.” With 250 horses, slick tires, plenty of downforces, and zilch for curb weight, it should be something to savor. I accelerate out of the pitlane and into the back straight, gathering speed like a rocket from a catapult. The massive 3-Liter V6 Jaguar engine roars loudly behind me as I fiddle with the paddle shifters, going up to 5th gear before braking hard into the first hairpin. On paper, this engine, with its paltry 6,250rpm redline, should have been a disappointment. Only it isn’t. It’s a riot! Inside the little speeder, it feels as if it revs to 33,765rpm. Screaming its lungs out every time I glue the right pedal to the floor.
That elusive “Zone”
I’m trying to get into “the zone,” but it ain’t easy. Firstly, quite a few racers around me are spinning themselves to oblivion. One of them even managed to strand his Formula car deep in the gravel zone past the first hairpin. Probably wasn’t as good at pressing the breaks as he was kicking the throttle. Not wanting to be a “Schmuck” myself, I take it a little easier on the first few laps. Secondly, my neck hurts as I try stabilizing my head (plus helmet) in the bare, open cockpit. Alas, 180kph combined with 2G side forces is not something my aging neck muscles know how to cope with. I resort to just letting my helmet sink inside the headrest, which immediately turns out to be a winner. With my head correctly planted, I start kicking some proper lap times.
I loved all the cars at Palmer. Yes, even the too-heavy-for-its-own-good BMW M4. But it’s the Formula 3000 I want to marry and have my babies with. I get out with a silly green on my face. No words are needed. Looking at the video (attached above), I realize I could have easily dropped another second from my lap time. As I write these words, all I want is to go back and shave that darn second off!
Final thoughts at the car park
Still, the time is good enough to land me 5th place overall. Going to the car park and into the humble Kia XCeed, I look at the rest of the competitive bunch entering their Porsches, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis. I feel a bit proud overtaking most of them on the track (but not the guy in the 911 GT3RS) and a little envious for having “just” an M2 CS waiting at home.
Palmer claims they are “The World’s Greatest Driving Event.” I haven’t been around enough to affirm the claim of the “World’s Greatest.” What I can say for certain is that they are the best driving event I’ve ever been to. Should you?