Tomorrow, Gordon will compete for the States alongside Jimmy Johnson and Colin Edwards in the Nations Cup. The fastest drivers will then race head to head on Sunday in a bid to be crowned as the Champion of Champions. It all sounds terribly intense, and when the flag drops, racers will be racers, but in the interim they're happy to mingle, swap anecdotes, eye the girls and absorb the winter sun.
Next morning, we make our way to the Circuit Ciudad Deportiva Islas Canarias, which sits in the basin of a natural amphitheater near the capital, Las Palmas. It plays host to around 25,000 fans, spread across three hillsides. Some have brought tents and I spot one family with a table football machine. Most, though, settle for a six-pack and a sun-hat.
Two cars race side-by-side, crossing at the midpoint. The layout was designed by Mouton, and the mixture of dirt and tarmac is designed to give the racers a chance against their friends from the forest. For the Nation's Cup, each country was asked to field a biker, a racer and a rally driver. The two-wheeled stars race in buggies powered by a 1100cc Honda Blackbird 'bike engine, the racers drive Seat Cordoba World Rally cars, and the rally drivers compete in Group N Mitsubishi Evo VIs.
The U.S. team, consisting of Gordon, Jimmie Johnson and Colin Edwards, quickly establishes itself as the surprise package. Edwards, who reckons that his four-wheel experience amounts to "driving my Dodge truck," finishes the day unbeaten. Gordon polishes off Renault's F1 star Fernando Alonso, while Johnson beats Jaguar's new Grand Prix recruit, Antonio Pizzonia. By the time they outpace the Italians in the final, the Americans have also won over the crowd. Their enthusiasm is real and infectious.
The following morning sees Johnson pitched against Gronholm in an Evo VI. What happens next is central to the appeal of the Race of Champions. Johnson may have spent most of the year turning left, but in the first heat, he crosses the line just 0.23 sec. behind the Finn. Then, after swapping to a Cordoba WRC, he leads the second, only to rearrange the Seat's nose in an earth bank. It's an astonishing performance-in 118 sec. of brilliance, Johnson had surely done more for Nascar's credibility in Europe than "Days of Thunder" ever could.
Intriguingly, none of the Formula One drivers qualifies for the main event and only IRL's Kenny Brack upholds any sort of honor for the open-wheeled racers. And he's beaten in the quarterfinals by the Finnish rally ace Harri Rovanpera.
Rovanpera is then outpaced in the semis by Citron's Sebastien Loeb, which sets up a final with Gronholm. "This is the perfect final," Mouton tells my dictaphone. "We have the current World Champion against rallying's brightest new star." In a thrilling final, Gronholm triumphs after Loeb makes a mistake. It's yet another trophy to add to the Finn's collection, and he's quickly submerged in champagne and dancing girls.
The girls are an integral part of an event that recalls the heady days of relaxed, impassioned motorsport. Bereft of corporate responsibility, the drivers are friendly and approachable, while the racing's terrific. Any motorsport fan planning a winter break in Europe next year would be well advised to factor-in a couple of days in the Canary Islands.