The event took place at the Red Lodge Karting Centre and comprised 13 teams of wannabe Formula One drivers, plus the team I was on, which consisted of me, three girls and another bloke with a beard.
It was great fun - although it’s been a few years since I’ve driven a go-kart in anger, it came down to a coin toss between me and Chris, hereon known as Bearded Chap #2, as to who was going to go out on the qualifying lap. I called heads, and was quickly out on track - where I suddenly realised that no matter how good I thought I was, the others were far better.
I shouldn’t have been surprised: most of my competition were about 12, one had turned up in a Lotus Exige, another a Caterham and the bum-fluffed organiser of the event used a Mercedes McLaren SLR as his day car. I wasn’t green with envy, at all.
I wasn’t as quick as them, either, and when we were being told our qualifying positions I was praying that I wouldn’t be last. Thankfully, I wasn’t - just - and as the lights turned green I found myself in the middle of one of the most aggressive karting starts I’ve ever experienced. “It’s a non-contact sport,” the lead marshall had told us during our briefing. “If I see any of you deliberately making contact with another kart, I’ll black flag you.”
Clearly, he wasn’t watching at the start, or for the following two hours!
The fastest lap on the day was 56 seconds; I was proud to set my personal best of 59 seconds. My team, however - which had the dubious name of The Tharp Truckettes - came in last, 14 laps down and with an average lap time of 1m 07s.
It was, however, all in the name of fun. And charity. When the event was finished, the trophies handed out (including one for the team that came in last that now resides in my pub’s trophy cabinet) and the last of the champagne corks popped, everybody headed back to the pub for a Sunday night barbecue that Ali had put on for them, and an announcement that the day had raised over £3,000 for Cancer Research UK.
So well done to everybody involved, the organisers, and those ratty little kids who beat me on the karting circuit.
Brad did, however, let my boys have a sit in his McLaren SLR before heading home, making their day. Then I had a sit in it and my eldest lad videoed me trying to get back out again.
Trying is the adjective you need to take note of there. Stupid car. I blame the beard.
Mark Daniels is the licensee of The Tharp Arms in Chippenham, Cambridgeshire
