Ricky Taylor started laughing when he tried to describe what I was about to experience.
''It's nothing like a road car,'' Taylor, a rising star in the Grand-Am Rolex Sports Car Series, said as he visualized a lap around Watkins Glen International in a Daytona Prototype. ''It's harder braking, more G forces. There's walls on either side of the track. There's really nowhere to go.''
Thanks a lot, Ricky. Way to calm the nerves!
By my count, I've ridden about 250,000 miles on motorcycles, so it's safe to say I've always had at least an occasional need for speed. That's probably why six years ago I decided it was a good idea to take a three-lap ride around The Glen in a two-seat IndyCar Series car at near-race speeds.
There wasn't much to that car. A carbon-fiber shell, no fenders, no windshield, a cramped cockpit, and a 650-horsepower, methanol-burning engine. That's probably why I had to sign a detailed waiver that included my health-care provider and the name of my doctor and had to wear a fire suit, booties, racing gloves, and fire-retardant head sock - just like a driver in the series - before being fitted for a helmet.
And when it was my turn, I hopped in BEHIND driver Davey Hamilton.
Despite some initial trepidation, the experience of roaring uphill at nearly 170 mph through the esses and zipping through the head-rattling Bus Stop (or chicane) is imbedded forever in my mind.
I never thought anything would - or could - top it.
I was wrong.
I was invited a couple of weeks ago to take another ride around Watkins Glen - two laps in a Daytona Prototype - and of course I jumped at the chance.
The Daytona Prototype, which made its debut in 2003, is a sleek mid-engine car that measures 79 inches wide and 41 inches high with a wheelbase of 108-110 inches. My ride is in a Ford Riley with a 5-liter, V-8 engine that packs 500 horsepower and has a five-speed gearbox. It's capable of speeds near 200 mph.
Impressive, to be sure.
I'm more interested in other, more important, stuff, like the carbon-fiber side-impact panels and multipoint steel tube integrated roll cage.
This was much more laid-back - the paperwork was brief and I only needed a fire suit and helmet. There wasn't much time to snatch a helmet because series driver Ozz Negri was raring to go, having already zoomed down pit road in the No. 60 that AJ Allmendinger, Michael McDowell and Justin Wilson drove to a seventh-place finish in the Rolex 24-hour endurance race at Daytona in January.
I hop through the right-side door and sit NEXT TO Negri, and the crew tightens my harness and instructs me to grab the roll bar with my right hand.
Piece of cake.
''In the race, we have a 45 mph speed limit in the pits, but today I'm just letting it go,'' Negri says, a smile visible underneath his full-face helmet as we accelerate to 80 in the blink of an eye. ''It's such a perfect track. All the sight lines are beautiful. It's a smooth track so it doesn't beat anybody up.''
That's not what Taylor had said.
''I've taken some people in the two-seater and you hit the brakes, it's like, 'Whoa!' '' Taylor said.
Whoa indeed!
From 150 down the front stretch to 80 entering the 90-degree first turn, not even the hint of a squealing tire under the intense braking, then accelerating up to nearly 180 through the esses. Negri is wearing a HANS device to protect his neck. I am not, and I would have deeply regretted that fact had I gone more than two laps.
''When you're driving, you're ready for it,'' Taylor said. ''You're positioned and ready to hold your head up. When you're not waiting for the brakes, then your head ...''
Ends up in your lap as if you're praying. I feel like Linda Blair in ''The Exorcist,'' wondering if my head is doing a 360 as we zoom through the famed Boot section. At least there's no hint of the pea soup!
''I've sat in the passenger seat, too, and I'm like, 'Oh, man, I can't brake that late and that hard.' When you're driving, it's a totally different thing,'' Taylor said. ''It's a good experience.''
The adrenaline rush from the amazing grip and speed of the car relegates preparing for the jolt of every turn to an afterthought. You remember when it's too late and you forget all that you worried about beforehand.
I was concerned about the wildlife of the Fingers Lakes region of upstate New York. In 1999, former NASCAR star Dale Jarrett hit a woodchuck during qualifying for the August Cup race, and in 2005 Max Angelelli vaporized a woodchuck that ran onto the course along the back stretch in the dark.
It was getting near dusk when I went. Was there a deer lurking in the Carousel turn?
There wasn't, thankfully.
After two laps on The Glen's long course - not even 7 miles - my neck was aching and the next day the outside of my left knee was throbbing. Maybe it was because this ride included the mile-long Boot, which is jarringly stunning.
Now I know why some guys - Sterling Marlin comes to mind - really never liked going to The Glen or Sonoma, the road courses NASCAR's top division competes on each season. It's a whole different ballgame and it's incredibly taxing on the body.
Still, this was a thrill like no other.
''Every time I come in, it's thumbs up - they want to keep going,'' Negri said.
Understood, mainly because I was sitting UP FRONT. That made all the difference in the world.
''That is amazing. Wow! Unbelievable! Unbelievable!'' Vickie Miller, of Jacksonville, Fla., said after her stint with Negri. ''I can't imagine doing that for four laps. This was absolutely the most incredible thing. I'll never forget it for the rest of my life.''
Ditto!
