Montreal F1: First Half

Getting to Montreal yesterday was simple, but not necessarily easy. Simple: Get on i-81 north and drive. Less easy: After heading to Harrisburg via a flag store in Hanover there was still an 8 hour drive ahead of us (without traffic, with speeding). That time didn't include the accident that closed the road south of Montreal. A play-it-by-ear detour, and a detour from that detour got us to Montreal before 4am (though just barely). Luckily, I had found a radio station playing nothing but house (after listening to too much Lord of the Rings audiobook), so the last hour or two were enjoyable, despite being 7 hours in. Seven hours which were enough for Ray's IQ to severely dwindle - at the beginning of the trip I taught Ray the drivers for the top few teams, who were my favorites, and how they were performing this year. By the end of the trip, I forbade her to state anything immediately obvious - such as that the detour was taking us off GPS route. She chose not to talk, so maybe she was still smarter than I.

The hotel clerk said he almost canceled our reservation and gave our room away (Montreal is booked for this weekend)... instead, he did something more exciting. He gave us the key to the room above ours. I opened the door and while I was wondering how there was an open suitcase on the luggage rack, a shirtless man sat straight up on the bed, making the quintessential zombie uuuuuuuughhhh. I quickly apologized and said I'd take care of it, closing the door. As we walked back to the stairs the desk clerk was speed-walking towards us, apologizing for the secretary's handwriting. I managed to make it to our new room before giggling, but only barely.

Today was much more fun. We took the bus to the metro, and the metro to the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. What struck me most was how many people there were: for hours, Train after train filled to capacity emptied themselves at the course. The other thing that struck me was how well the public transit system worked - the bus stops all had maps, route numbers, and signs providing info on when the next bus is due.

We stood in line, picked up our tickets, and then found an area right next to the stands, in full view of the jumbrotrons and less than 20' from the track. I went out to find some earplugs (and paid 4$ above market value for a commemorative case), Ray read on her kindle. Then the sound of a monstrously loud, high-revving engine broke across the park and the stand broke into applause. The engine multiplied into a swarm, earplugs went in, and qualifying began. I watched expectantly, Ray read on her kindle.

Quali was fun. I took pictures and alternated watching the big screen and the track as the cars came down to the hairpin in front of us, slamming us in the chest with trip-hammer downshifts, cornering at speeds that look impossible (downforce!), and then screaming past us as they accelerated toward the other end of the island. Screaming fans overcame the screaming engines as different drivers set successively lowest times, and at one point when a driver left the track. Ray looked at me inquisitively, expectantly. I leaned in 6" from her earplugs and yelled "Yup! That's our boy!"

I'll be honest. Even though I went through the spotter guide with her, I never expected Ray to recognize my favorite driver - though his offroading was a good hint.

After qualifying (McLaren - my favorite team - took fifth and seventh, well below last year's performance ((though I expect they'll figure out a route to the podium tomorrow regardless)), Kobayashi ((the ballsy rally driver Ray recognized)) placed 13th, better than normal for him and giving him a great chance at the points) we watched the historic Grand Prix - a race of older Formula One cars from a few vantage points, trying to figure out the best place to watch from tomorrow.

The day cooled off though, and we went to go check out the pits for the Ferrari race, open to the public and an art gallery of f430's and 458 Italia's. The f430's raced last year - I recognized a few of the cars even. The Italia's are new this year, cleaner than my car will ever be, and awe-inspiring even while still. Ray and I camped out along the access road in the windshadow of a building and waited for the Ferrari's to pass. We were happily surprised when the classic f1 cars were towed in. I was tempted to sit on the curb like a parade, but ADD kept me bouncing around snapping shots.

After the classic cars passed, the Ferrari's headed out to the course. They sounded beautiful as they rumbled past at 5 mph. They sounded loud when they sped up to 10mph. At this point we were cold, and I couldn't hide my shivering anymore. We headed out, passing the formula 1600 cars (one of the series that future f1 stars go through) which made fantastic noises, less harsh than the f1 cars and with whistling, whining noises.

A few spits of rain provided the encouragement needed to get back on the warm metro train. We went back to the hotel, put on more layers, and went out to dinner (Cabernet, Sirloin, Shrimp, and a baked potato- I had to make up for skipping lunch). Then we went home and crashed way early.