Magical Ring

I hit the world’s greatest circuit – with a little help...

ALL the way up here, is all sixth gear, flat…” The voice is that of 1993 BTCC champion Jo Winkelhock, but this time he’s in a roadgoing BMW M5 Touring, with this writer, equally brave freelance John Elwin and photographer Mark Bothwell aboard.

What will turn out to be a memorable ride is the result of yours truly realising, while planning a trip to the STW-Cup meeting at the Nurburgring in Germany, that we would be perfectly placed to investigate the real Nurburgring – the Nordschleife, 14 miles long and with “at least 150” corners. One of the last true road circuits left in the world, it sees little competitive use these days. The Grand Prix circus left in the mid- seventies for the artificial Hockenheim and a couple of years ago the mighty Class One DTM Tourers left too, declaring the place just too dangerous.

Now the circuit’s income comes mainly from the public. For 15 Deutschmarks a lap, you can drive or ride your own vehicle around the Nordschleife, unhindered by road rules or speed limits. And every day hundreds of drivers and bikers do just that. But for our first visit, we didn’t want to just drive it – we needed someone to show us around properly, a Nordschleife expert…

“In this section you need very good rhythm. Second gear, quite quick because of the very long gear ratio…” Jo Knows the Nordschleife intimately. He used to race it regularly when it was a stop on the DTM calendar. And only two weeks before our trip, he had raced it in his Super Touring BMW, in the one major event the circuit still hosts, the 24 hours. This race attracts 160 cars varying from Super Touring machines to Mini Coopers and Fiat Cinquecentoes, and teams that vary from complete professionals to totally amateur enthusiasts. Sadly Jo did not see the chequered flag this year, totalling his BMW against the barriers while overtaking a slower car. Super Touring Magazine’s Chris Goodwin was equally unlucky, team-mate Ian Flux crashing their Group N Saab with just an hour to go. The Nordschleife demands respect, and is always ready to bite the unwary...

“Third gear, fourth gear, fifth gear flat, this is Flugplatz, where Manfred had his accident. It’s fifth gear flat and the car is completely in the air…” Flugplatz means flying place, and the name is appropriate. It was the scene of one of the Ring’s most famous accidents, when the March F2 car of Jo’s brother Manfred, its nose damaged in an earlier collision, suddenly took off over the crest. It flipped over backwards and then barrel-rolled into the barriers, Manfred amazingly stepping out unhurt and in true Winkelhock fashion asking a spectator for a cigarette. The mention of Manfred is a surprise - he was lost in a sports car crash in Canada, and even 10 years later it is clear that Jo still greatly misses his brother.

“This is Schwedenkreuz, one of the quickest parts, and already here the car is in the air, with a little wheelspin...” A group of bikes accelerate past our BMW, their riders hunched low, leaning far into each corner. The Nordschleife attracts hordes of bikers, yet for them it holds the greatest dangers. As we’d boarded the car earlier Jo had said we would have to take it easy, there had been a bad accident to a biker that morning, the medical helicopter called. But Jo shrugged off our concern, saying “On the Nordschleife, it is normal.” Later we would learn the biker had been killed...

This is, however, indeed normal for the Nordschleife. The circuit claims approximately one person a week, the great majority bikers. Last year, apparently was particularly bad, with 72 deaths. But the circuit is so deeply wrapped in tradition that no safety-conscious do-gooder even thinks of raising objections to the carnage. They would not get far…

“Brake, turn-in, flat, fifth gear – there’s a lot of fifth gear.” Jo is now chasing the bikes, his earlier aim of taking it easy forgotten, with perhaps his right foot stirred by the mention of his brother… now he’s beginning to enjoy himself.

“Back to second, this is Aremberg, out, all downhill, flat to Fuchsrohre (the foxhole)… this is really good, wow! It’s possible even in the rain to go flat.” Between corners I ask him how long the place takes to learn. “About two to three 24-hour races,” is the matter-of-fact answer. “When I first came here, I did 40 laps in my mother’s Renault 5. Fifth gear flat, back to second. In this hole the compression is so heavy you cannot lift your foot from the accelerator.“

In truth, he adds, it’s never really possible to learn the Nordschleife. Each time the circuit is a little bit different. “In the DTM I used to do just one lap of practice then come in and think about it. There are just too many impressions.

“This is a big part, fourth gear, double right hander, a little lift, then flat…” The M5 is really motoring now, Jo just feet behind the pushing-on bikers, letting the tail slide out in every corner. We simply hang on but our host is relaxed, steering with his left hand while the other searches for his cigarettes in the centre console. The spectators are getting good value too - spectators? Yes, you can tell the most dangerous corners on the Nordschleife, as each is thronged with people. Local people, soaking up the sun in deckchairs, eating picnics and waiting for the accidents.

“Breidscheid is the deepest part of the Nordschleife. Up to Bergwerk, where there was the accident to Niki Lauda..." Another grim Nurburgring memory, a picture of a burning F1 Ferrari, hit by two other cars, an accident that turned Niki Lauda the great racer into Niki Lauda the scarred hero, and took Formula One away from the Ring.

"Fifth gear, sixth gear, all flat, here you have wheelspin…“ Now we are heading towards Karussell, an amazing corner, more than a hairpin. Its inside half is paved with car-sized concrete slabs, each at a slightly different angle to the next so that as you turn into it you are taken on a rollercoaster ride, around a seemingly endless circle, then spat out of the exit at very high speed, and onto the next test.

“Pflanzgarten, fifth gear flat, a big jump…” The place where all the photographers go. Cars fly at Pflanzgarten, but being on a curve they fly at an angle, landing crab-like and only the grip of their tyres preventing a disastrous high speed spin. For while it is full of corners, the Nordschleife is anything but slow, Jo’s most used phrase seeming to be “flat.”

“This is Schwalbenschwanz, which means…” Jo makes the sign of a hanged man, a sign we all understand. And then on to the long straight, a couple of miles parallel to the public road, where Jo reckons Group A Sierra Cosworths used to touch 300kph. If we stopped here, we’d see the memorials in the trees, to mostly unknowns, all claimed by the circuit throughout the years.

We brake for the last bends, and then slow before the barrier, where the track used and once a year still carries on, to what is now the modern circuit. The car is quiet, Jo relaxed and asking if we want to go again. This writer is keen, but the colour of our photographer’s face suggests otherwise.

Next day, after the action on the modern circuit is concluded, I pay my 15 marks and take on the Nordschleife myself, again in a BMW, my 316i company car. Soon I am enjoying myself immensely, and growing more confident – until I come out of a typically quick right hander over one of the innumerable crests to find the track suddenly heading sharp left when I least expected it to. I just avoid an expensive accident and an embarrassing phone call to my publisher, and complete the rest of the lap at not quite so keen a pace. The Nordschleife has taught me my first lesson – to never, ever believe that I’ve mastered it. Magical ring…