There are worse ways to start a Texas morning than rolling into Eagles Canyon Raceway before the heat has fully climbed out of bed.
The first session was about 80 degrees. That sounds pleasant until you remember this is Texas, which means 80 degrees at 7 a.m. is less “cool morning air” and more “the oven is preheating.” Still, the track had some grip, the paddock was awake, and the Skipper was sitting there in Racing Yellow looking cheerful and slightly guilty, like it already knew we were about to do something irresponsible.
This was only my second outing on the new Yokohama Advan AD09s on Apex VS5RS wheels, and there is one important wrinkle. The one session I ran on them before today was at Eagles Canyon clockwise. Today, ECR was back in its regular counterclockwise configuration. So the tires were not just fresh. They were fresh, still settling in, and now being asked to work in the opposite direction on the layout my brain recognizes as “normal.”
The first time out, the AD09s were slick. Not charmingly slick. Actually slick. The kind of slick where the car moves around underneath you and you start making small promises to whatever saints watch over mid-engine Porsches.
This morning was better.
Session one was the warm-up in every sense. Fresh-ish tires, early track, me recalibrating to counterclockwise ECR, and the Boxster settling into the rhythm. The lap times tell the story clearly. I started at a 2:38, then worked down through the 2:27s, 2:25s, 2:23s, and eventually into the low 2:22s. Best lap of the session was a 2:22.252.
That is the kind of progression you want to see. Not one miracle lap followed by chaos. Just steady work. Brake a little cleaner. Turn in with a little more trust. Let the car breathe. Get back to throttle without treating it like a light switch.
By the end of that first session, the Yokohamas felt like they were finally starting to come in. The car was moving around less, and I was asking more of it without feeling like I was auditioning for a blooper reel.
Then came the second session.
By then it was 93 degrees. Attendance was light, maybe ten cars total, but light does not mean casual. There were half a dozen GT4s and GT3s, a bunch of racers, and then me. Basically a serious track-day tasting menu, with one bright yellow Boxster parked somewhere between “enthusiastic amateur” and “please don’t make this weird.”
That is one of the funny things about HPDE. You can be surrounded by serious machinery and serious drivers, but your job is still your job. You are not there to win the paddock. You are there to improve. The GT cars can thunder by and make all the angry Porsche noises they want. My measuring stick was cleaner laps, better sectors, and fewer moments where my hands got busier than my brain.
The second session was quicker. Best lap dropped to a 2:21.059. That mattered because the track was hotter, the tires were working harder, and I was still finding pace. Heat usually takes. This time, I gave a little back.
The data showed the Skipper was not quicker because of some heroic straightaway pull. The speed was there, but the time was coming from carrying pace better and stitching sections together more cleanly. That is the good stuff. That is also the stuff that takes longer to learn, because it is less dramatic than just hammering the throttle and hoping the rear tires sign the paperwork.
Then came the third session.
This one produced the best lap of the morning: 2:20.145.
That is a 2.107-second improvement from the best lap of the first session. In the heat, on the second real use of the Yokohamas, and really the first counterclockwise test on those tires, with a field that included GT4s, GT3s, and actual racers, I will take that all day long and twice before lunch.
The best lap had a RaceBox GPS top speed of about 122 mph. The OBD showed about 124 mph, but that number comes with an asterisk. I am running 18-inch wheels, and the only instrument-cluster choice was 18-inch winter tires. Since OBD speed is based on wheel speed and assumed tire circumference, it read about 1.8% to 2.0% higher than the RaceBox GPS. The RaceBox is the number I would trust for track speed. The OBD number is fun at parties. The GPS number is the adult supervision.
The good news is the GPS data itself looked strong. The VBO files showed roughly 15 to 16 satellites and accuracy around a quarter to a third of a meter. In other words, the lap time was not some satellite-assisted fairy tale. The 2:20.145 was real. So were the dud laps. No blaming the satellites. Rude, but fair.
What matters more is that the best lap was not a straight-line fairy tale. My first-session best lap already hit about 122 mph by GPS. My best lap of the day also hit about 122 mph. The car was not suddenly faster on the straights. I was using more of the lap.
The big gain came in the Split 2 to Split 3 section, where I found almost 1.4 seconds compared with my best lap in the first session. That is not horsepower. That is line, confidence, brake release, throttle timing, and probably a little less panic seasoning.
The data told the part my ego would rather not admit: the faster lap was not bigger, louder, or more heroic. It was cleaner. Less peak lateral G, similar braking load, and basically the same top speed. The time came from using the car better, not asking it to save me from my own enthusiasm.
That may be the least sexy sentence in track driving, but it is also the truth. Faster came from smoother. Cleaner came before quicker. The lap had less drama and more pace, which is usually how the car tells you that you are finally touching the right buttons.
The theoretical best lap from the clean sectors was about a 2:18.595.
That does not mean I am ready to go chase 2:18s like a lunatic with fresh tires and a credit card. It means the time is in the car, and some of it is in me. The trick is putting the pieces together without turning a good HPDE day into a guy with a Porsche pretending to be a lawn mower.
The final session also had a reminder from the track gods. The last two laps were duds, and I am not counting them as performance laps. One earlier lap in that session was also clearly messy, with a huge loss in one sector. The OBD data showed the car still had speed and RPM, so this was not the Skipper falling on its face. It was traffic, heat, tires getting greasy, driver fatigue, or some combination of the usual suspects.
That is the part of the data I actually like. It separates the excuse from the evidence.
The car was healthy. The flat-six was pulling cleanly into the upper rev range. Coolant was working harder in the heat, with peaks around the low 230s, but there was no obvious sign the engine was giving up. The missing number I would still like to see is oil temperature. Coolant tells part of the story. Oil temp would tell me how sweaty the expensive bits really were.
The AD09s feel like they are getting there. They are not magic. They still need heat, pressure management, and some respect. But compared with the first time out, they were much more predictable. The car gave me better feedback. I trusted it more. And when I trusted it without overdriving it, the lap time came.
That is probably the biggest lesson from the morning.
The Skipper does not need to be bullied. It needs to be placed. Brake cleanly. Release smoothly. Let the mid-engine balance do its thing. Get back to throttle like you mean it, but not like you are trying to win an argument. When I did that, the car rewarded me. When I got greedy, the lap fell apart. The car likes a firm hand, not a clumsy one. Same as most good relationships and a few bad ideas.
Three sessions. Texas heat. Fresh Yokohamas. ECR back in its proper counterclockwise form. A paddock full of serious Porsches. One yellow Boxster trying to keep up without embarrassing the family name.
Best lap of the morning: 2:20.145.
Best RaceBox GPS speed: about 122 mph.
OBD speed: about 1.8% to 2.0% optimistic versus RaceBox.
Theoretical best from clean sectors: about 2:18.595.
Best reminder: the car has more in it.
Second-best reminder: so do I.
The goal next time is not hero mode. It is repeatability. Stack clean 2:20 to 2:21 laps. Keep the tire pressures under control. Watch the heat. Ignore the GT-car circus unless it is coming by with a point-by. Then start looking for the 2:19s.
The seconds are there. They are just hiding in the boring stuff that I need to sort through in anticipation of Schnellfest in November.
Link to video of my fastest lap for the morning. https://youtu.be/MkTibfyy9rY?is=r_JqOD1Z3R8PkMcM