Round 9
Oulton Park 15 October 2011

Julie Stewart

For us, the meet at Oulton Park was always going to be emotional.  The 2010 outing was both Tom's last trip away and the last weekend he was out of our house.  Remembering how hard it was for him to travel, to see people, to get through that weekend, would tug at the heart strings of even the hardest amongst us all and for me, Dave and Jill it was tugging hard at those strings long before we loaded up the car and headed south, the anticipation of the weekend at the forefront of our minds days, weeks even, before it came.

Dave and Emma stayed at the track, in a tent, on 14th; warm and cosy in a pub with rooms a few miles from the track, me and Jill were very aware of how cold it was outside and felt for Dave and Emma trying to stay warm back at the track (they told us the next morning that the night had been freezing ... Emma wore everything she had and was still frozen to the bone!)

The 15th began brightly, the sun shining and sharing a little bit of its warmth, only just taking the edge off the icy cold day.  Even early on, I noticed Dave seemed unsettled; we could all feel the emotion of the day hanging heavy around.  That said, right from the start, there was plenty of laughter and light-hearted banter as well; this is a great championship to be involved with.

I asked Dave how he was feeling (I knew he'd had a bad feeling about this meeting for some time and had woken from a very vivid dream, days before, at the point he'd crashed into the wall; it was less about himself and more about crashing the car that worried him, the car he and his Dad patiently, painstakingly, lovingly even, built from scratch and which his Dad had raced without serious incident - he couldn't bear the thought of bringing it home in pieces).  To be honest, I think he would have happily loaded the car right back onto its trailer and spectated except that he'd been sponsored to drive (SBC Ltd.) 

Now, the racing itself, this is where Dave's memories will be far better than mine ... as a mam, knowing how her son was feeling, my only focus was Dave on the track and him getting back off it again safely, hopefully having enjoyed himself in between.  I'm afraid I can't say I really noticed much of what was going on with everyone else so I'm not qualified to put in a race report but what I can tell you is that there was practice plus two races.  For Dave, the practice went ok, the first race not so much (didn't finish), the second he didn't make --- the car had broken by then! --- but not smashed.  Some others were not so fortunate and will have time and money to spend for next season.

During the first race, there was contact just ahead of Dave and, incredibly, somehow, a tiny piece (or pieces) of metal had found their way over Dave's windscreen and up under his visor and into an eye!  And it was stinging, the skin around his eye very red and his eye watering.  So, a trip to the medical centre.  Well, Dave hates a fuss at the best of times and like most of us is especially sensitive around his eyes, so he was walking back out of the medical centre almost before he got in!  "I'm fine" ... that's all we heard ... "It's out, it'll be fine, I'm fine."

He was fine for a while.

We loaded the car (I've been told the problem and would like to share it with you but all I understand is that it was "mechanical failure") and then watched the second race before heading to our hotel for the dinner dance.  However, there were road diversions in place and I had the map and I said go straight on so it was I that got us lost (no excuse but major embarrassment because I'm noted for giving accurate directions! ... what can I say, the sun was in my eyes, the print on the map too small and I didn't have my glasses!)

Sometime later, somewhere, the sun streaming through the windscreen, Dave's eye was streaming too and getting redder by the second.  There was tension, his vision was suffering now, the roads were narrow and winding through small villages and farmland and neither me, Jill nor Emma has ever driven a van and trailer on a public road of any size and description.  Actually, it might only be me who is actually allowed to drive such a set up; Dave had to sit some test.  Finally --- I'm going to say that again! --- finally (it seemed like forever) we found a main road and eventually the hotel.  Coincidentally, it was a walk away from a cottage hospital.

By this time Dave's eye was obviously not good.  I suspected he might have scratched his eye though I was concerned that there may still be a tiny fragment inside.  The walk to the cottage hospital was pleasant, the wait inside the hospital was long and frustrating (we were definitely ready for a drink!) but the nurse was great.  She numbed Dave's eye, so he got relief from the pain, and flushed out the remaining debris.  Some antiseptic for the scratch and a list of do's and don'ts and then we were heading back to the hotel, and the bar.  Time was creeping on though so I took my drink to my room and got ready for the evening.

I felt so incredibly nervous about the evening.  The dinner dance without Tom was always going to be hard, with so many memories flooding back and such an acute awareness of being a remaining half of a couple.  Dave and Jill were struggling with their own feelings about it all.  Between us, an emotional mess!  We were also presenting our trophy (the Tom Stewart Memorial Trophy) and Dave was going to say a few, unplanned, words, whatever felt right at the time.  Walking into the reception suite, before we were all seated, I felt awkward and uneasy and actually, physically, quite sick.  I couldn't even have a drink! (I know!!! ... completely bizarre!)  The way I feel, being without Tom, and especially in quite formal situations, is really hard to explain but one of the words I would use (there's a long list of words and phrases) is 'vulnerable'.  And even though I know, myself, that how I'm feeling is over-sensitive and unnecessary, I still feel it.  It was a relief that we were invited to take our seats in the main room, I was grateful to shrink and blend into the surroundings, though still feeling anxious about the presentation, hoping Dave would know what he wanted to say, when the time came for him to speak.  I needn't have worried.

Dave spoke with sincerity with feeling - I'm so proud.  Hugh Marshall is a worthy winner of the trophy this year and I hope it gave some small consolation to him after his car took such a battering.

The evening was lovely.  Lots of talking and dancing and Dave won a prize in the draw (huge excitement, much needed and much appreciated) and we were up until the early hours (Dave tells me it's a Stewart tradition!)  And as the evening ended I felt pleased to have been part of it.

And about Dave's dream --- well, during practice the tyres were cold and he was sliding a little.  He'd finished a few laps before he pushed a bit harder but still held a little back, not confident.  When he lost control he was travelling around 80 mph and was able to get the car back sufficiently that when he hit the barrier it was at an angle that only caused superficial damage.  Had he pushed harder, without reservation, it's unlikely he would have been able to limit the damage.  Spooky!

 Pictures to add soon ,...