The Green Machine
There are questions and thoughts constantly interrupting my ability to focus on machinegun communication from Master 12: I bet I am over-dressed, my mind races.
All trendy jeans and designer jumper and white tennis shoes that would look better on someone taller with a semi-formal puffer for added warmth and that special touch of Tasmanian.
Mrs W provides continuous feedback to encourage more forethought: Did you get dressed in the dark? and What has happened to you? she protests, as I inadvertently mix and match smart casual with active wear, more formal attire, and cupboard fillers from Christmas that should have been retired years ago or in fact, never made it to the regularly worn pile of clothes in the first place.
Each year, Symmons Plains Raceway is our calling for the Supercars. And recently on a weekend during April, I was looking mint , particularly if attending a gourmet barbecue one autumn evening with friends.
Alas, it was the with thousands of cheering sports fans who we joined to take part in the biggest sporting event in Tasmania bar none. People often tell me that we can not do without AFL football.
That may be true, but do not even think of losing the Supercars.
It is a thirst for motor sport that dictates the attire of die-hard fans. Polyester blend fashion wear celebrating names like Mostert, De Pasquale, Davison, Whincup, and ‘Frosty’ Winterbottom are resplendent in bold print, often accompanied by flags waving in the breeze from cars parked on the hill with punters excited to watch exploits at the famous tight corner known as Brambles Hairpin.
Bowe, Brock (Dec.), Johnson, Moffat, and Richards also raced here, and their merchandise is still popular.
The camber of the hairpin is steep, sloping down the hill to ensure that the race cars corner as safely as possible whilst retaining reasonable speed.
It is our favourite part of the raceway; highspeed deceleration, side by side action, and full throttle acceleration onto the back straight after the exit.
The noise is just as exhilarating with ears young and old often covered with protective earmuffs or ear plugs. The smooth clutch pop of the early part of the race is quickly replaced by screeching and boiling breaks and gear and speed changes that shift from pop to sssshhhh ping as the substantial accumulation of pressure escapes exhaust pipes.
And the best part about the plains the Supercars remain in view for much of the circuit returning to the hairpin every 53 seconds to thrill expectant crowds.
Not surprisingly, I think I may have been the only fan wearing Lacoste…
On the drive to the track, Master 12 and I, as we often do, just chat - we are both experts at small talk.
And it does not take long for the perennial Aussie question to be posed: Ford or Holden?
Although, as I am quickly reminded, from next year it will need to be a little more specific: Mustang (Ford) or Camaro (Chevrolet)?
The question stems from the country’s fascination with V8 race cars that have dominated tracks around the nation for decades. You are either a Ford of Holden fan it is a bit like Carlton or Collingwood.
My family owned a 1971 XY sunburst orange Falcon wagon with three on the tree, bought brand new in Launceston and we kept it for far too many years, but it was Dick Johnson’s Greens-Tuf XE 1982-1983 Falcon that cemented my support of the Oval.
Johnson’s green machine famously clipped a tyre barrier and ran off the road on Conrod Straight, diving down an embankment and crashing into a tree, during qualifying on Mount Panorama at Bathurst in the James Hardie 1000 of 1983.
A sticker bearing the major sponsors name, which still causes me to wince, remained on the handlebar pad of my 1985 Prosight BMX until recently when it was removed during restoration for the twins to carve up the local skatepark.
Like most sports, motor racing has a rich history in Tasmania.
Wil Davison’s grandfather, Alexander ‘Lex’ Davison, whom he never met, raced the Grand Prix at Longford and was a four-time Australian GP winner. He died of a heart attack at Sandown International Raceway in 1965.
The connection between Lex racing on the streets of Longford and his grandson tearing up the pin at the plains in the Shell #17 car was perfect synergy and I purchased a red cap to celebrate. Master 12 stuck with Holden and joined the polyester crew.
Racing is dangerous, but it is also infectious and steeped in history.
However, while 0-200 kilometres in no time at all may remain important, the weekend is all about the fans and the merchandise.
There is an energy drink sponsor which cuts through like no other ensuring that is not just about the driver, rather, it is about the buzz that draws fan after fan to part with their hard earned.
AFL has been great for Tasmania, but there is an unrivalled passion that remains in the form of eight cylinders at the plains.
Just prepare for the race day in full light.