Chapter 23: First Day, New Class
Monday, February 15th, 2010 — Lelystad, KWM Racing Academy
The wind whipped across the flat training grounds of Lelystad as Alex stepped out of the van, helmet bag in one hand, gloves stuffed into the other. He blinked into the bright winter sun. It wasn't snowing, but the cold bit hard.
He zipped up his suit a little higher and looked at the row of karts waiting near the garages.
They were bigger. Louder. Meaner.
These weren't the fun-sized machines from the Bambino class. These were Mini 60 karts — more power, more grip, more speed. Faster kids, too. Most were already seven, some eight. A few were nearly nine. Alex had just turned seven a week ago.
Victor walked beside him, his pace calm, hands in his jacket pockets.
"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked without looking down.
Alex nodded once.
Victor stopped and turned to face him. "This won't be like Duiven. Or even like Apeldoorn. They're going to push harder. Defend more. You'll get hit. You might lose."
Alex didn't flinch. "That's okay."
Victor's eyes narrowed slightly, then he gave a small nod. "Good."
They stepped into the paddock. Tools clanked. Engines revved in the distance. And the older kids barely looked up.
Alex walked slower now. Not hesitating — just taking it in. The smell of fuel. The blur of jackets with sponsors. The karts gleaming under morning light.
One of the instructors — a mechanic named Mark — waved them over to one of the karts.
"She's ready," he said. "Mini 60, just like we discussed. Restricted engine, still, but more bite than he's used to. You want to talk him through it?"
Victor turned to Alex. "Let's go over what you're driving."
Victor knelt beside the kart and tapped the nose cone. "This is a Mini 60. It's used in the higher-level Cadet class. Top speed's around 90 km/h, but what matters is how it gets there."
He pointed to the side-mounted engine. "Two-stroke, around 8.5 horsepower. That's more than double what you had before. You'll feel it in your arms after a few laps."
Alex crouched beside him, eyes locked on the carburetor.
Victor continued, "New tires, new brakes, and a new chassis geometry. It turns sharper, but it also punishes bad steering. Understeer and oversteer? You're going to feel both."
Alex whispered, "What pressure are the tires?"
Victor raised an eyebrow. "Good question. 0.8 bar cold. We'll monitor. But it's your job to feel when grip drops."
Mark grinned from behind the kart. "He's asking setup questions already?"
Victor gave a half-smile. "We're starting that now. He's ready."
10:16 – First Stint
The tires squealed softly as Alex rolled out of the pit lane, one hand adjusting his gloves, the other steady on the wheel.
This wasn't like any kart he'd driven before.
The acceleration hit harder. The steering felt heavier. The brakes bit sooner — and sharper. His body jolted in the seat with every bump, every twitch of the chassis.
First lap: feel the kart. Don't race. Just understand.
But it was hard not to push.
The first straight tempted him. He rolled into the throttle, felt the rear squat, and the engine scream.
Turn 1 came faster than expected. Too fast.
He braked hard — too hard — and the rear stepped out. The kart snapped sideways. He caught it, but his line was sloppy. Exit was slow.
Turn 2: better. Smoother on the brakes. He let the kart rotate naturally.
Turn 3: clipped the inside curb — too much. The kart bounced. He overcorrected.
By the time he reached turn 6, his arms were already aching.
From the pit wall, Victor watched without a word.
---
10:22 – Lap 4
Alex was fighting it.
Every corner was a battle — not against others, but against the kart. He was used to control. To precision.
This thing didn't care.
It demanded strength. Timing. Trust.
Turn 5 — he braked late again. Too late.
The kart locked up slightly, rear stepped wide, and this time he didn't catch it. Not fully.
He ran off-line. Lost time. Shook his head.
Frustration built in his chest.
---
10:26 – Back in the Pit Lane
Victor didn't scold. He just stood by the kart as Alex climbed out, sweat on his forehead despite the cold.
"How'd it feel?" Victor asked.
Alex shrugged, breathing fast. "It's... wild. I can't turn like I want to."
Victor nodded. "Because you're telling it what to do. Not asking."
Alex blinked.
Victor crouched next to the kart. "These machines aren't like toys. You can't force them. You have to listen — and feel. Let it tell you where the grip is."
Alex looked down at his gloves, still catching his breath.
Victor continued, "Right now, you're muscling it. That's okay for lap one. But it won't work for lap ten. This thing's faster than your hands. You have to be ahead of it."
Alex didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then:
"Can I go again?"
Victor smiled. "That's the spirit. But this time — trust the kart. Let it move, then guide it. Not the other way around."
Alex nodded.
11:04 – Second Stint
Alex settled into the seat again, this time with a calmer mind.
He remembered Victor's words: "Don't muscle it. Trust it."
He pulled out of the pits slower than before, eyes scanning the horizon. The sun had risen slightly higher, casting faint shadows across the curves of the circuit.
Lap 1: easy on the brakes. Light on the wheel.
He let the kart roll through the first corner with minimal steering — and it gripped.
Not perfectly, but better.
Lap 2: he braked earlier. Not because he was scared, but because he wanted to feel what the tires were doing.
Through turn 3, he felt the front-right lose grip for just a moment — and then come back.
That was new.
Before, he would've oversteered. Yanked the wheel. But now, he let it recover.
He began to sense the balance — where it leaned, where it needed more weight, where it didn't want to be pushed.
---
11:10 – Lap 5
He was faster now. Not by brute force, but by rhythm.
Turn 4: trail braking, early apex. Felt good.
Turn 6: rolled speed, minimal input. No fighting. The kart followed.
The chassis sang beneath him — alive but calm. He felt it through the seat, the wheel, even the vibrations in his feet.
Victor watched the data screen in the pit. Sector times: down by half a second. Then eight tenths.
He leaned toward one of the mechanics. "He's listening now."
---
11:17 – Post-Stint Debrief
Back in the pit, Alex pulled off his gloves and helmet, sweat dripping but his smile quiet — content, not cocky.
Victor handed him a water bottle and tapped the tire with his boot. "Feel anything different that stint?"
Alex nodded. "Turn 3, the front slipped once. But it came back on its own."
Victor raised his eyebrows. "Good. That's tire feedback. That's grip on the edge."
Alex took another sip. "The rear feels... softer? Not slow. Just... like it moves more."
Victor gave a satisfied nod. "That's chassis flex. Normal when it heats up. You're starting to feel it."
He motioned toward the kart. "Next session, we change pressure. Slightly lower. I want to see if you notice."
Alex stared at the machine for a moment.
It wasn't just metal and fuel anymore.
It was a language.
And he was starting to learn how to speak it.
12:02 – Setup Talk
Victor crouched beside the kart while a mechanic released air from the rear tires with a faint hiss.
"Alright, Alex," Victor said, pointing to the gauge. "We dropped the pressure by 0.2 bar on the rear. Know what that does?"
Alex shook his head slightly. "Softer feel?"
"Exactly. Lower pressure means more contact patch. That gives you more grip in slower corners, especially mid-exit. But it also means the tires take longer to heat up."
He pointed at the front wheels. "Later we might try more camber here — that's the angle the tire leans. It changes how much grip you have under load. Too much and the tire wears uneven. Too little and you understeer."
Alex listened, eyes locked on the kart. "So... if it feels lazy on turn-in, it might be camber?"
Victor gave a small smile. "Now you're thinking like a driver."
---
12:19 – Third Stint Begins
Alex rolled back onto the track, the sun now overhead, warming the asphalt.
Turn 1 — the front felt familiar. But Turn 3 — he caught it instantly. The rear gripped better on exit, pulling him straighter out of the bend.
It was subtle.
But it was there.
He tried to exaggerate the difference, pushing a little deeper into Turn 5. The rear held longer — more stable, less twitchy. He didn't need to correct as much.
For the first time, the kart felt predictable.
---
12:26 – On the Wall
Victor stood with his stopwatch, arms folded.
"He's learning," one of the older mechanics said, watching the sector lights blink green again.
Victor nodded, but didn't speak.
He could see it.
The way Alex now positioned the kart before every braking zone. The way he didn't fight the wheel, but guided it. How he trusted the chassis to carry speed.
It wasn't just fast.
It was fluent.
---
12:34 – Post-Run Debrief
Alex climbed out, face flushed, grinning without even realizing it.
He pulled off his gloves and blurted out: "Turn 5 — I could feel the rear working. It just... held."
Victor handed him a small notepad.
"Good. Write that down."
Alex blinked. "Now?"
"Always after a session. What changed. What you felt. Even just a few words. That's how you build your own understanding. No one's gonna teach you everything."
Alex scribbled quickly:
> Lower pressure = more rear grip
Turn 5 = stable
Felt balance mid-corner better
Still understeer turn-in T2
Victor peeked over his shoulder. "Nice. We'll try a front setup change next."
Alex exhaled slowly, feeling the tiredness now — but also something else.
Pride.
He wasn't just driving anymore.
He was developing.
Late Afternoon
Lelystad, KWM Racing Academy – Pit Wall
The track was nearly silent now.
Engines had stopped. Mechanics packed away tools. A few karts still sat under awnings, cooling off under the dimming winter sun.
Alex sat on a plastic chair beside Victor, helmet resting on his knees. His race suit was half unzipped, his hair damp with sweat.
"Long day," Victor said, handing him a bottle of water.
Alex nodded. "But a good one."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the last rays of sun stretch over the asphalt.
Victor broke it first. "You want to know the truth?"
Alex glanced at him, curious.
"I wasn't sure if you were ready for this class," Victor admitted. "Bigger kids. Faster karts. More technical. I thought it might shake you up."
Alex looked down, gripping his water bottle tighter. "It almost did."
Victor chuckled. "But you didn't flinch. You adapted. You didn't chase times — you chased understanding. That's rare."
Alex didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
Victor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper.
"This is next month's calendar," he said. "If all goes well, we'll sign you up for your first official race in the new class. You've got three weeks."
Alex unfolded the sheet, eyes scanning the names of circuits. He stopped at one: Venray.
"High-speed," Victor said, seeing where his eyes landed. "It'll test your nerves."
Alex smiled. "Good."
Victor leaned back, arms crossed behind his head.
"You're growing up fast, Vermeer."
"I just don't want to slow down."
Victor laughed softly. "Then don't."
They sat a little longer in the cold, fading light — a boy and his coach, somewhere between talent and tomorrow.
And for the first time in weeks…
Alex didn't feel small anymore.
"Hey everyone! Sorry I didn't post for a few days — I was on vacation in Brussels. But I'm back now, and uploads will return to normal!"