While the trendsetters of the car community were racing around Laguna Seca for GridLife last weekend, I was enjoying some low-speed laps in my project Civic at an old go-kart track in the Adirondacks. Although the track surface was rougher than a bowl of Corn Flakes, the atmosphere was fantastic—with grilling by the trackside, families hanging out in the pits, ample time for runs, and the most relaxed racing starts you could imagine.
At the back of a grassy area that doubles as a landing strip for local Piper Cub enthusiasts, there lies a narrow, twisty go-kart track that was initially paved in the 1960s for competitive racing. Though the karting scene faded over the years, groups like Tri-Vettes LTD and AMEC (Adirondack Motorsports Enthusiast Club) have maintained its use for autocross events. A few attendees I spoke to shared that they had been racing there for decades, with David Burnham, one of the organizers, stating, “I’ve got so many laps here. Hundreds.”
This experience is not a newfound secret of the local motorsport scene—it’s been around for quite some time. However, this was my first time witnessing it firsthand.
Amid serving as a track worker, Burnham piloted a tube frame racing machine equipped with a Maserati V6 engine. Other attendees brought a mix of vehicles, from sleek sport compacts like a few Golf Rs and a WRX STI to older models, including a rugged seventh-gen Civic, a loud MR2, and several weathered Miatas, alongside a couple of stunning Corvettes, including two shiny C8s.
The online registration process highlighted a few warnings about the bumpy track. As someone who has participated in hill climbs in Vermont and various parking-lot autocross events in New York, I wasn’t deterred. Nearly every northeast racing event I’ve attended, apart from dedicated tracks like Palmer, has been a rough ride. A satellite view on Google Maps revealed the track looked like a promising experience, featuring a reasonably long straight and some elevation changes. “Perfect for drifting,” one of my friends optimistically remarked after I shared a map screenshot in a group chat.
Upon arriving, I found the course to be surprisingly narrow—only slightly wider than my little Honda. The twisty section my buddy envisioned for drifting turned out to be more of a shimmy than a slalom. Nonetheless, the map looked appealing, and there was an exciting little hill approaching a sharp left, offering way more excitement than your standard parking-lot autocross course.
I quickly understood why the race organizers allowed participants to withdraw and get refunds if they weren’t satisfied with the track’s condition. While there were a few smoother sections (roughly the length of a single car), the rest of the track was riddled with pits, potholes, and an unstable mix of rocks and tarmac. I adjusted my Fortune Auto coilovers to their softest setting and nervously prayed to the car gods as we made our reconnaissance run.
In an ideal situation, drivers aim to push their limits, brake late, and hit every apex to maintain maximum speed through the laps. However, the go-kart track posed two significant challenges. First, there was a delicate balance between sticking to the racing line and avoiding the potholes. Secondly, the limited maneuvering space required sharp focus to keep the tires from straying into the dirt. And like all track events, there were the standard challenges: maintaining composure, learning the track layout, and gauging how much speed to carry through each turn.
The closest thing I had to track-ready tires were my Firestone Firehawk Indy 500s, boasting a 340 treadwear rating and only 205mm wide. Coupled with a limited-slip differential and under 200 horsepower to the wheels, my rubber cried for mercy around the track as we kicked it up to race pace.
Driving hard in front-wheel drive vehicles is challenging, as the front axle has multiple demanding roles. A Civic’s front wheels must steer, propel the car, and bear most of the weight, which often leads to understeering and skidding to the outside during turns when they become overworked.
Determined to avoid a repeat of the understeer crash I experienced at the Burke Mountain Hillclimb, I gradually increased my aggressiveness. This strategy paid off as I consistently improved my lap times—not enough to win any trophies (the day’s awards were coffee mugs), but I did manage to place 5th out of 10th in my class for “two-wheel drive vehicles with 201-or-higher tire treadwear.” The top spot was taken by a nearly new Corvette, so I couldn’t feel too disappointed.
Below, you can see a video of one of my laps during the event. It’s not a tutorial; I was merely trying to keep the car on the track without risking a broken control arm on a pothole. However, it offers a firsthand look at what it’s like to navigate a full-sized car around an old go-kart circuit. The audio also captures the essence of the event through my exchanges with the starter:
The race was an enjoyable social gathering, but I also appreciated the distinctive challenges posed by the course. It felt more like rallycross than autocross, testing both my ability to read the road and manage the car. When faced with such rugged terrain, strategic line choice becomes crucial.
We started with a flying start; a flagger would signal the go, but the timer only began once you crossed a laser a few meters ahead. This afforded a slight advantage to vehicles that needed a moment to accelerate from a stop. As I approached the first turn—about half a lap around the oval—I was already contemplating when to shift to second gear.
A twisty section followed, compelling drivers to reduce speed, but the ensuing hill leading to a blind left turn was exhilarating. The straight was even smooth enough for me to floor it for a brief moment, although it was short-lived, not much longer than a football field.
The braking zone leading to the significant 180-degree turn into the twists was so beaten up that my ABS kicked in, even at a moderate speed. There was a sizable hole on the right side before the track veered left, forcing drivers to either navigate the pothole and jeopardize car stability or hug the inside and apex earlier at a lower speed. I aimed to brake and reach the outer line to hit the apex at higher speed, but the outcomes were less than stellar.
I struggled to master the little slalom; while I successfully avoided hitting any cones, I couldn’t find the control I desired after that substantial turn.
The long right-hand turn back into the oval was a thrill; it was an opportunity to unleash some power. However, the first apex afterward was filled with rocks, forcing me to focus more on dodging obstacles than adhering to a racing line.
Getting to complete a second lap was fulfilling. A common frustration at autocross events is the long wait between laps. If a turn goes wrong, having to wait 20 minutes for another chance can hinder improvement. Here, I had the advantage of a quicker follow-up without losing momentum.
We completed a total of six runs of two laps each, with participants clocking in times ranging from 70 to 90 seconds. My fastest run of the day was 81.698 seconds while the quickest cars were managing around 76 seconds.
Lime Rock Park in Connecticut offers a similar setup, featuring a separate, smaller go-kart-style track that allows for autocross laps. Though the terrain there is smoother, the cost to participate is significantly higher. I’m considering a visit to help determine whether I should reconfigure my racing vehicle for off-road competitions.
Meanwhile, my resilient Civic appears quite content as it tackles whatever terrain I present. Despite its stiff tires and coilover suspension, it has proven to be a fun, versatile ride that brings joy even when speed isn’t the main focus.
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