The following is an editorial written by Dr. Pineschi describing his first Spec-7 race experience:

Dr. Victor Pineschi's First Race

Butterflies, excitement, nervousness, butterflies, anticipation, doubt, butterflies, hesitation, apprehension, butterflies, contemplation, preconception, butterflies, dread, fear, anxiety, butterflies, expectation, invigoration, exhilaration.....lets get going----NOW!!!

It's truly amazing how quickly your brain can fire all available synapses when the starter does such a simple action as holding up her index digit indicating the "one minute" signal prior to your first race.

It only took 45 years to arrive at this moment in time.  Just 45 years of toy cars, learners permits, muscle cars, hot dogging, street racing (or at least what I thought was racing), my "sports car" phase, show car phase, etc, etc, etc.  How I ended up at this moment in time now seems to be a combination of predetermined fate, subconscious self-determination, and a merging of circumstances all converging into an astrological mélange, leading up to me seeking a "real" competition license.  I had to do it; it was my birthright.

Following a color comboed puke green/piss yellow Spec Rx7 (no one ever said guys who race cars have to have tasteful esthetics to be great drivers - Ferraris excepted) from the grid onto the track, I make my best attempt to keep from looking too "rookie" by emulating the driver in front by scrubbing tires and trail braking in my attempt to get my car up to operation temps.  My grey matter kicks into overdrive on top of my already warp speed driven neurons.  No more butterflies.  Pure business.  Pure exhilaration.  No fear.

Rounding the last turn anticipating the drop of the green flag, I instinctively blip the throttle while simultaneously muscling the shifter down a gear.  I spy the white of the starter's eyes although he is at least a hundred yards away.  I know he's going to drop the green.  My left foot never dropped a clutch so quickly, only beaten by a half a heartbeat by my right foot trying to crush the throttle through the firewall.  I'm vaguely aware of the simultaneous sound of a dozen other Mazdas reacting in the same instant.  Deafening, but queerly at the same time inaudible.  Organized chaos ensues as each driver tries to "grab the line" diving into the first turn.  I jump the puke green 7 and another just as obscenely painted Mazda.  I take the line and fend off the anticipated "intimidation" of a rookie as we drive through the first turn.  Unbelievably, I had jumped the two guys!  NOW, this is fun, this is what it is all about, THIS IS RACING!!!  It doesn't get any better than this.


Dr. Victor Pineschi        

More Pictures

  Posing for pictures
  Prepping the car
  Checking wheel torque
  Starting grid

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