Test driving the world’s fastest autocross car, circa 1999 | #TBT | Articles

A Brief Recap

When I first saw the Phantom in the summer of 1995, it was noth­ing more than an open-wheeled version of the DMD Phantom D Sports Racer with a wing mounted en top as per the then-standard A Modi­fied configuration. The car still had fiberglass bodywork and a pull­start on its Arctic Cat powerplant. 

Still, the car was efficiently designed, and I knew it had potential when I saw how fast it accelerated out of a corner–just before its drive belt disintegrated. I doubted that car builder Joe Cheng would make it to the 1995 Nationals. The car was just not ready to be un­veiled in front of the likes of the Bowlands, Goodales and McKameys. 

Enter Gary Milligan, multi-time National champ and master car builder. With his help, the Phantom project got going in earnest. The whole tone o_f the effort changed, as there seemed to be a sense of urgency around the shop. Basically, the attitude was like “We gotta build this thing, and it’s gonna win.” The mind set of the Phantom’s team was not unlike that of a top CART team-very intense. 

For the next two years, it was very hard to pry Joe or Gary away from this project. They were either at the dyno or the wind tunnel or away at some big event testing, testing and more testing. The rest, as they say, is history. 

Fits like a Glove

Imagine if you could transform the human body into a race car, and you get a feel for what it’s like to drive the Phantom. The car is de­signed for a driver with a height of around 5 feet 10 inches and 175 pounds, so for me at only 5 feet 8 inches, I was a bit more reclined in the seat, but this lowered the center of gravity anyway. 

Every component on this car is arranged in such a way that the driver has only enough room to steer the wheel and work the pedals. Anything else would be wasted space. You are simply in a cocoon of tubing and sheet aluminum. 

The side panels were a feeler gauge away from my hips, and I banged my elbows on the tubing. It’s tight. The end links of the front anti-roll bar were almost scraping my knees, but once I got settled in, it was actually a very comfortable en­vironment. 

Controls are simple: right foot for gas, and left foot for brakes, just like a kart. The steering wheel is positioned for light effort, and in front of it lies the multi-func­tion data logger which I wasn’t going to even attempt to figure out. 

Outward visibility was very good, much better in fact than a lot of open-wheeled cars I’ve been in. I initially thought that seeing over the front wing would be a problem, but you’re looking so far ahead while driving, the front element isn’t noticeable.

Fire It Up

Boundary Bay Airport is a concrete site at the end of an active runway. It’s 200 feet wide and 1500 feet long. It’s the best site we’ve ever had in Vancouver, B.C., and according to Milligan, the surface offers more grip than Forbes ·Field in Topeka, where the Solo II Nationals take place.

The event was a simple and casual club practice, and Joe brought the Phantom out just for fun after his trip to Nationals. So I was essen­tially driving the car in the same trim as it competed. I designed the course this day with all the components to test a driver and car. Its length was comparable to the courses laid our by Karen Babb and Roger (not the Corvette guy) Johnson for past Nationals.

After Joe explained a few basics to me, I strapped myself in. “Don’t worry about driving the car,” Joe explained. “It’s no different than anything else with four wheels. It’s very benign actually.” I looked at him, puzzled. “Benign? How can a vehicle which rewrites the PAX index each time it competes be benign?” 

Well, I figured with me being a driver of only moderate tal­ent, I couldn’t possibly get this car anywhere close to its limits. I was to be proven wrong. “Gary and I cannot simply push this car to its true envelope of performance,” Joe says. “There’s still more to be had, but we’re not superhuman.”

With the fuel turned on, I hit the start but­ton, and the Arctic Cat spun to life with a whine. I noticed that the electronic fuel injec­tion makes the motor run a lot smoother than last year. With the motor behind me, it was actually quieter from inside the car. I rolled up to the line and waited, my breath quicken­ing with anticipation, excitement, fear.

The signal was given, and I closed my vi­sor and brought up the revs. The clutch en­gages quite abruptly if you snap the throttle, and the rear wheels are easy to break loose. In doing so, the rear end of the Phantom jumps sideways, and you have to catch it fairly quickly.

Out of the start, the car is indeed fast, but the rate of acceleration from the driver’s point of view is extremely linear. I’ve been fortunate enough to sample a variety of vehicles this year, and many of them felt faster than the Phantom. The Porsche 911 Twin Turbo is one such car with more ferocious power buildup. Even a 125cc shifter kart feels faster. The constantly-variable drive system in the Phantom creates such a smooth acceleration curve that a driver can eas­ily concentrate on the task of actually steering the car through the course.

On the opposite side of the coin, brakes are again very positive and linear. Whereas the For­mula Ford’s front end dipped under braking, the Phantom’s entire chassis moves as a unit to scrub off speed. It settles down nicely for you as you then make the next in­put. After a few more runs, I discov­ered that I had to throw out most of my conventional driving logic with respect to brakes. Why? The wings.

Use the Force

The one thing you do notice as speed builds is the noise generated by the wings. The sound is almost identical to the rumbling of a CART Series Champ Car going down the back straight of Port-1 and International Raceway. From the outside, you can actually see the car’s aerodynamics take effect. The Phantom’s ride height lowers, especially in the rear. From the in­side, it results in the car being very stable and solid at high speeds.

The mistake I made in my first couple of runs with the brakes was simply a case of too much braking. Because the aerodynamics provide so much more grip than con­ventional means, you need to develop a trust in the wings. I gradually used less braking, and at some points in the course I simply backed off the throttle. When this was done, the results were amazing. I’ve never gone that fast in a corner in my life.

Cornering forces are not unlike a kart. The g-loads are just as strenuous on the body. But where you really feel the stress is in the slalom. “Neither pure power nor outright cornering will win an autocross,” Gary says. “The car with the best transient response is going to win.”

The Phantom has just that, and you can slice through a slalom with the precision of a sur­geon. The specially-valved Koni dampers are dialed in just right. The speed is still high enough for the wings to take effect, so even if you get a little late on one cone, you can react just in time to make the next and still have the car in total control. As a result, my helmet was tossed from side to side like a rag doll’s. Luckily, r had a neck collar on.

The car’s overall configuration, albeit conventional, aids i_n transient response. Whereas a stan­dard A Modified car uses a centrally-mounted wing, the Phantom’s wings are located low and close to the wheels, where it counts. In the Formula Ford, I experienced noticeable body roll in comers and a slow transient response due to the 30 pounds of aluminum airfoil situated just over my head.

Pushing the limits of Human Performance

Driving this car at the limit of its performance envelope takes a total readjustment of your visual skills, hand-eye coordination, and a speeding up of your mental processes by a factor of three. I’m a fairly fit guy, yet l was physically tired and mentally taxed·after only seven runs. Joe had nine runs, and by that evening, his neck was sore from resisting the lateral forces. Mine was, too.

1 now h,ave a renewed respect for guys like Michael Schumacher who go an entire race distance combating heat, vibration, and g-loads. Both Gary and Joe have speculated on how much more could be had out of the car by simply putting a fast, young kid in the cockpit.

Mentally, driving this car means being able to think fast and instantly transmitting your thoughts to your hands and feet For the first few runs, I was simply reacting. That’s not good enough: you have to anticipate. This is hard to do, as the mind will reach its limits before the body does.

As things approach at extreme speed, your brain plays tricks and psychs you out You end up backing off way too early, and you lose time. On one section of the course, a set of offsets led to a variation of a Chicago box which spit you out across the runway. The key to this was simply keeping a lookout for a tiny break in the wall of cones.

At the Phantom’s speeds, it was hard to no­tice. Once I saw it, though, it was a matter of pointing the car into the break and holding my breath; back off a tiny bit on the gas and flick the car through. But the car negotiated this section with total confidence.

After my seventh run, I was still three sec­onds behind Joe. I probably could have shaved another second and a half off my times after I figured out how to use the wings, but I ran out of gas. We parked the Phantom and switched back to having fun in slow Stock cars like the 911 Twin Turbo.

Further Development

The car that rewrote the book in A Modi­fied is not done adding chapters. Gary has a laundry list of mini projects he’d like to try. The only item installed this year was the EFL A revised aerodynamic package has already been studied and modeled and, Joe says, “The car still needs a diet.”

So it is safe to say that there may be more national titles in the future for the Phantom. However, the scene in A Mod doesn’t remain static for long. The original margin of victory has closed. The Goodales had a new car de­buting this year: No doubt George Bowland will finally be convinced that a new car should roll out of his shop soon. Todd Bowland spent a full half-hour taking measurements of the Phantom at Topeka in ’98. And what of the interesting technology coming from the For­mula SAE camp? They may not win outright, but some of the gizmos do work and will surely be adapted to a future champion’s car.

Joe made a comment to me regarding the many technically brilliant minds he encountered at Nationals. For example, Prof. Bob Wood of the University of Texas at Arlington’s Formula SAE program had some ideas that throw con­ventional car design out the window. There may be efforts to put limits on Solo II’s unlimited class, but he feels it would ruin the playing field. A Modified is, and must remain, the playground for stretching technical limits and pushing the laws of physics.

Cliff Loh hails from Vancouver, B.C, and is an autocrosser with multiple class titles in his home Region. He has also been a high-pe1for­mance driving instructor. His most recent achievement came at this year’s Seattle SCCA Solo II National Tour, where he finished second out of 14 entrants in CSP. Aside from driving, he’s the editor of the Regional newsletter and contributor to the SCCA/NWR publication. Thanks to Joe Cheng and Garry Milligan for graciously allowing this test drive.