Learning Goodwood the hard way | Frankel’s Insight

Initially it was used for testing of all manner of racing cars, because it was quick, challenging and reasonably conveniently located for most British teams. But by the early 1980s, increasingly stringent noise regulations and the lure of sunnier circuits abroad dramatically reduced the numbers of teams driving through the famous tunnel. By the time of my first visit in 1986, the facility was near derelict, though the track remained unchanged from its glory days.

I was 20 years old and Goodwood was to provide the venue for my first outing onto a race track. For that reason, as well as many others, it will always hold a very special place in my heart.

I’d just moved to London and had a job in The City so was earning a reasonable crust, and I had recently inherited a small amount of money. So, like any self-respecting proto-Sloane, I went and bought myself a brand new Peugeot 205 GTI. Black, no sunroof, no extras, not even electric windows. If I’d kept and looked after it it’d be a valuable car today.

Instead, I took it to Goodwood for my first track day, and having taped up the headlights and jammed someone else’s helmet onto my head, I headed out onto the track without the faintest idea what I was doing.

I had completely the wrong amount of talent for this situation. If I’d been a prodigy of Moss-like genius, it would have all felt wonderfully natural and easy, whereas if I’d had no talent at all, I’d have gone slowly, probably scared myself once, hated every second and returned to the pits vowing never to do anything quite so stupid again.

But I loved it, and this was long before I realised that not all circuits look or feel like Goodwood. It wasn’t just the sheer speed of the place – I am assured that if the chicane were removed and the circuit put back to its original configuration it would be the UK’s fastest race track – but the beauty of its setting and the ever-changing, undulating nature of the track. Of its ability to lure the unwary I knew nothing.

You will probably remember that 205 GTIs had rather, er, responsive handling; you may not recall that very early cars were so inclined to change direction at the twitch of a toenail that they were quietly revised to calm them down just a little bit. Mine pre-dated all of that. Which is why, after a couple of laps just to find out which way it all went, I nosed into Madgwick for the first time at decent speed.

Having no idea of the right line through any corner, let alone one as complex and deceptive as this, I soon found myself running out of road so thought I’d better slow down a bit, this decision coinciding precisely with my first ever experience of total loss of control. It instantly spun through 180 degrees, but stayed on the track, just pointing the wrong way.

I can’t remember how many more times I spun it that day, but it was plenty and I was incredibly lucky not to pancake it into a tyre barrier. But I do remember a friend of my brother, who’d somehow managed not to witness the limitations of my driving, offering me a go in his Van Diemen Formula Ford car, the first racing car I’d ever driven. Didn’t stop me spinning that, mind, from the exit of Fordwater, most of the way to St. Mary’s and almost all of it on the grass.

In that one day I chalked up my first go on a race track, my first spin, my first go in a racing car and the first (and to date only) time a track day organiser has suggested it would be better for all concerned if I stuck to passenger seats for the rest of the day. And it was all at Goodwood.

Suitably chastened, I returned home, determined to figure out how to do this driving thing. A year later I returned in the Caterham for which I’d traded in the Peugeot, keen to put into practice all I’d discovered. I wrote it off at the exit of the chicane. So, I can chalk up my first (and most recent) track day crash to Goodwood, too. Only then did I really learn. Some people just have to find out the hard, painful and expensive way and, as Goodwood was only too happy to show me, I was one of them.

Photography by Harry Elliott, Joe Harding and Jayson Fong.