So we gathered in the old pits where the Evo sat under a simple Porsche awning while members of the race team fussed over it. I asked Seidl if all was well: “yes, all is fine. The car was ready days ago, we’re just going through our normal procedures.”
Soon Timo turns up, racing snake fit in his bespoke 919 Tribute overalls. Last night he was chatty, chilled and great company. This morning he’s saying nothing. The signal comes, he wriggles down into the cockpit and prepares to go to work. Doors slam, fingers wave and suddenly, quietly the 919 is moving. He drives the wrong way around the track for a kilometre, turns around and comes flashing past us. Six minutes and 38 seconds later he’s back. It’s faster than any road car has ever been around here but slower than Bellof. ‘Don’t worry,’ says Holger Eckhardt, the team’s genial PR boss, ‘that was just a warm-up lap.’
And so it proves. On the next lap Bernhard posts a five minute 31 second lap, turning both of Bellof’s records to dust. But he’s not happy with the set up. The car is bobbing about too much on the straight, so they fiddle with the damping at the front, adjust the ride height and send him out again. This time he does a five-minute 24-second lap, a whole minute faster than Bellof’s quickest race lap. Up and down the pits some are laughing, some are gasping but most are just staring in disbelief at the timing screen. He hops out the car and, briefly, it seems we’re done. The record has been punted into the far, far distance where it will be almost impossible to retrieve. What point is there in risking all, all over again? And make no mistake, the risks here are as big as they can be.
But this is Porsche, and today is the only day they have. Track temperatures are rising and in a few minutes the decision will be made for them – the Michelin slicks are so soft that even in the cool morning air are already at their peak for less than a single lap.