KEY POINTS:
Looking over the pit wall, I don't have particularly fond memories of the racetrack at Manfeild Park. My last time here, circa early 1980s, was for a Castrol Six Hour motorcycle endurance race.
After experiencing nearly six hours of rain, fuel problems, brake dramas and a broken exhaust, my teammate and I had managed get back into the top 10 overall, and third in the 750cc class, with a couple of laps to go.
Steady as she goes I thought, but my teammate had other ideas and, while trying to pass a lapped rider, crashed and that was that. After six hours a DNF.
Having retired from racing motorcycles a long time ago, it seemed a little odd to be suiting up again at a race rack. After a moderately successful motorcycle-racing career, I certainly wasn't going to turn down the opportunity of experiencing what it must be like to sit in a scaled down version of an F1 car complete with wings and slicks.
Getting ready to get into an open-wheel race car is a bit different from putting on a helmet and throwing your leg over a race bike. For a start, you have to be measured for the seat harness and then there's the strange head and neck support (HANS) device. Talk about a straitjacket for the head.
My chauffeur for the afternoon's jaunt was rising Kiwi open-wheeler star Brendon Hartley, 2007 Formula Renault Euro Cup champion and British F3 Carlin Motorsport driver.
The tall, rangy Hartley managed to get himself effortlessly into the narrow cockpit, whereas I felt like I was being stuffed into a sausage skin and there's not a lot of me either.
Just as I'm getting used to my knees up around my chest and my feet under Hartley's seat, there's an almighty roar just behind my head followed by the sound of meshing gears and, without warning, we shoot out of the pit garage.
As we accelerate on to the circuit, there is a vague familiarity about it all. Not so much being on a track I once raced motorcycles on, but more the sensation of being out in the open, the helmet being buffeted by the wind and various stones, dirt and rubble being thrown up by the tyres. It all seems so much more real when there's no roof.
Most of the first lap is not too daunting, as the tyres aren't up to operating temperature but, as we come on to the front straight, the engine note changes to that of wailing banshees and off we go.
As we whistle past the brake marker at the end of pit straight, I tried to look over my shoulder to see if someone had moved it further back, because Hartley seemed in no way inclined to start stopping.
I soon discovered wearing a HANS device stops any such backward glancing so I looked straight ahead again and tried to pick which tyre had my name on it.
Without the slightest idea of how it happened, we've washed off a bit pace, turned right and are now accelerating in an entirely different direction. By the time my eyeballs catch up with the direction the car's going, we're already into the next series of corners.
Conventional wisdom would dictate you'd at least slow down a bit, or ghost through on a hunting throttle, but, oh no, Hartley is accelerating and changing up as we flow through the infield.
As Hartley guides the car through the sharp left before heading off in the direction of Higgins, I now realise why I'm wedged into my seat, if I wasn't, I'd be part of the track signage, such is the G-force during cornering and braking, made entirely possible by the amazing aerodynamics of these cars.
They may not be as fast as a Supercar V8 in a straight line but, by God, they carry speed through the corners.
Howling into Higgins, I'm trying not to make a hole in the floor pan with my right foot, as Hartley has this wonderful knack of guiding the TRS two-seater around the circuit rather than throwing it about with tons of opposite lock and see-sawing on the wheel.
The youngster has the gift of being able to be so smooth it appears he's not going that quickly.
But believe me, Hartley is quick. Before my brain can catch up, we're halfway through Dunlop and about to start another lap.
This little trip gave a whole new meaning to being taken for a ride.
In conjunction with renowned Italian chassis manufacturer Tatuus SRL, Toyota New Zealand has developed a purpose-built, open-wheel class that makes use of state-of-the-art technology to achieve an innovative design with optimised aerodynamics and styling synonymous with the Toyota F1 car.
The two-seater version of the TRS car was conceived, developed and built in Auckland and runs a longer version of the single-seater race car chassis. In all other respects, it is identical with the single-seaters used in the series.
With each car having an identical chassis, engine and tyres, driving talent is the major factor that will determine racing results. The cars also conform to FIA Formula 3 safety regulations.
The engines used in the TRS series cars are based on the same 1800cc unit used in the Celica and Corolla production models. However, they are bolted to a six-speed sequential gearbox with free-flow exhaust and dry sump systems.
All engines are leased from Toyota and built and maintained by a single engine tuner. Each engine is dyno-tested, sealed and certified to ensure equality of power output.
Next week, for comparison sake, multi-national and international race winner Kiwi Craig Baird, will be taking me for bit of a spin. This time, I'll be strapped into a Porsche 997 GT3 Cup car. At least I'll be sitting next to the driver this time, with a roof over my head.
