Lapping up the thrill of speed

A gang of Porsches snakes through southeast Nebraska traffic. Connected only through walkie-talkies, the drivers brave cornfields and minivans, slowed only by bathroom needs. The destination: part two of a three-state, three-track, one-day driving adventure.

Part one had been successful.

The drivers arrived just before 8 a.m. at Mid America Motorplex in Pacific Junction, Iowa. The group — all people who can afford at least one Porsche and always pronounce it “Porsh-ah” — consisted of seven cars and 10 eager adventurers. The drivers ranged from driving instructors with two decades of experience to Leah Shaffer, an 18-year-old student who was christening her new car with its first course.

As the group unloaded helmets and lunches, they chatted some but quickly moved to performance driving, the main event.

In essence, this hobby is driving really fast around a track, just for the sake of driving fast. This event didn't include any races, and it didn't involve prizes.

But such a definition doesn't do justice to the look of delight in Rick Shaffer's eye as his speedometer races past 100 mph on a straightaway, or his quiet satisfaction at a lap well driven. It doesn't capture the excitement of turns where the tires nip the edge of the track or the heart-stopping moment before turns where you think, “Is this going to be the time the car topples?”

The group members belong to the Great Plains Region Porsche Club of America, but because of insurance, the club didn't sanction the event. It was just an unofficial gathering of friends who love Porsches and driving.

Shaffer, in his white T-shirt, jean shorts and sandals and with a sprinkling of gray in his black moustache, would look out of place in a Harley gang, as would the rest of the crew. In his real life, he works in operations at a company in Lincoln.

But get him on the track, with the motor racing and the windows down, and Shaffer is in control. He nimbly shifts gears as he swings the car around a bend, and keeps himself upright with an ease that comes with practice.

At Mid America Motorplex, the track photographer and the group's photographer positioned themselves to capture the best parts — cars coming around a turn, all seven lined up or the riders looking triumphant.

The main event didn't last long; 10 or so laps and they pulled off the track.

By 8:45, the group left for part two, Motorsport Park in Hastings, Neb. (Part three would take them to Topeka, Kan.)

Someone had prepared neat green folders with directions and phone numbers, and each car came equipped with a walkie-talkie so no smart remark was left unsaid.

A rainbow of Porsches is an impressive sight on an otherwise unremarkable highway. The cars wove in and out of traffic. Other cars just couldn't keep up — 85 would be a low estimate for the average speed of the Porsche crowd, and the drivers topped 100 at least once.

The group followed Heather Wester, a native of the Beatrice area, on an off-Interstate route. It's longer, but more scenic, and these people don't mind straying from the paved path. Eventually, though, the group reached I-80, and almost immediately a car pulled in among them.

This kicked off a two-hour struggle to keep the pack intact. It involved some dodging, some speeding and a little creativity.

Somehow, a Mustang found itself right in the middle of the Porsches.

“He wants to be part of our group,” one person said.

“Well, he can't,” Wester replied.

It was worse when all seven cars were stuck behind a semitrailer truck. The last straw was a minivan passing the Porsches, one by one.

“Left lane!” came the order. And almost as one, the cars moved gracefully to the left. It was a sight to behold, but probably obnoxious to all the cars hoping to follow immediately after the minivan. No one mentioned that, at least on the radio, though; they passed the offending semi with radio silence.

When they do talk on the road, they use words like “roger” and “over,” and the joshing surpasses the serious talk. Afterward, they said the radio contact had been relatively sparse.

Perhaps each car was its own world. Rick Shaffer and his passenger, Lori Carnahan, talked about her job and Leah Shaffer, who is his daughter and departed from the group in Lincoln. Wester ribbed her car mate, J.R. Sanders. Sandy Steckman listened to War of “Why Can't We Be Friends” fame. All anticipated the destination with enthusiasm.

At about an hour away, Wester stopped the caravan at a rest stop to much grumbling.

“George says if you wore Depends, we wouldn't have to stop.”

But Wester unrepentantly held her own.

“Sorry, not for me.” She paused. “Depends don't match bikinis.”

The others weren't appeased.

“We were just getting going,” Shaffer said at the rest stop.

But soon after, Wester announced that this time, Sanders had to use the bathroom. He managed to wait until the destination but was the first to rush inside. Wester was vindicated. And that was how part two began.

Steckman had invited local media, so as the group settled in, Steve Gallagher held an impromptu press conference. He told about the inspiration for the trip — One Lap of America, a nine-day trip across more than 5,000 miles. The group called this outing “One Lap of the Great Plains.”

Meanwhile, whether for the cameras or for personal pleasure, Shaffer produced cleaning solution and a cloth and painstakingly polished his black Porsche 911 SC. Wester, Steckman and others followed suit, and they soon possessed a fleet of shiny Porsches.

As they finished their first lap at Motorsport Park Hastings, the cars lined up in pairs after they pulled around the final curve. They waved their arms out the window to onlookers, including Carnahan.

Carnahan, who has known Shaffer for about a year and a half, has taken only one ride with him. But she said the riding isn't the best part; it's seeing the joy in the drivers.

“They're like schoolkids.”

Contact the writer:

444-1089, roseann.moring@owh.com