Ledenon, It's a No
I wish I did not have to write this one. Not only because I was unsure what to tell you, but also because I simply did not feel like reliving it.
I would have preferred not to write this article. First because I did not really know what to share, and second because I frankly had no desire to relive it.
Then I thought back to the LinkedIn post about my Magny-Cours win. It felt only fair to tell you about this sequel as well, because this too is part of racing.
To be honest, the Classic Racing School crew nudged me to tell the story, and they are right to do so.
A Brutal Circuit
I knew Ledenon had a reputation for being seriously tough: blind, off-camber corners, constant elevation changes... everything you need to make life difficult, with enough roller-coaster moments to rival Space Mountain.
We set up in the paddock right next to Eric Lecluse and Michel Dupont, the guys I had shared my last two podiums with.
Coming from amateur karting, with its tensions and elbows-out attitude, I wondered what the atmosphere would be like.
This is not karting anymore. These drivers are here for the love of racing, and it is a joy to chat with them for more than the quick podium handshake. Later, though sadly at my expense, I would truly understand what "gentleman driver" means.
An Original Partnership
To soak up the paddock vibe even more, I showed up with two camper vans lent by VaViVan.
Their builds are clever and genuinely comfy, kitted out with everything you need and hand-crafted to boot. The perfect combo for a track weekend if you love fine machinery.
If you live near Toulouse, check out VaViVan's site and rent one for a weekend or your next holiday.
A Disappointing Outcome
Unfortunately-if you read about Magny-Cours-you know that this time neither the lessons from Vaillante Academie and Classic Racing School nor support from partners RRS or Yema could save the weekend.
The magnesium hub carrier that we repaired at the last minute at Magny-Cours gave up in the final corner of private testing.
It was Friday morning. I had logged 35 minutes of track time. My weekend ended right there. Theo, my mechanic for the event, was probably even more disappointed than I was.
No one was at fault. The part simply snapped in two on track, and the tiny section we had re-welded at Magny-Cours flew off into the gravel somewhere.
If you ever wondered, like I did, what happens to cars that end up in the gravel, here is a short video:
This Is Not Karting
Race control let me into the gravel trap at Turn 14 during the lunch break. I spent an hour on foot searching for that missing piece. No luck.
We hoped to re-weld it-but first we had to find it.
That evening, as night fell and the engines fell silent, I finally understood the meaning of "gentleman driver." My two rivals and neighbors, along with their partners and even the dogs on leads, stopped by our garage and walked over to the broken hub.
They had spent an hour combing through the gravel at Turn 14 as well, hoping we could repair the part and race against (with) them the next day. They did not even know what it looked like, so they brought back every shard that could possibly match.
Sure, when the visor drops and the lights go out, there is no room for charity-only racing. But that paddock gesture is something I will remember for a long time.
Thank you for showing me what motorsport really is.
DNF: Did Not Finish
So yes, I would have loved to tell you more. Something different. But this is racing too: weekends that effectively end on Friday evening.
It happens even when everyone is at the top of their game.
So thank you to everyone who supports me in the tough moments: the Volant Michel Vaillant x YEMA, the Vaillante Academie, the Circuits de Vendee, YEMA, RRS, and of course the Classic Racing School.
And a special thank-you to VaViVan. I will not lie-thanks to them I got to enjoy the Nimes region differently than planned. I would have looked silly with a hotel room trackside instead.
