In an old warehouse somewhere near Atlanta, Georgia, a cosmopolitan group of people assembled one September evening. The plan? A three hour charity endurance karting event prior to Petit Le Mans 2006 – this was Petit Petit 2006.

Each of the twenty nine teams would compete in the race for charity, taking stints to drive. The five driver team made up of three Elan technicians also included two Sevenoaks members who had flown over to try and find some Southern sun (better than what Kent has to offer, anyway).

The rules seemed quite simple – that was, until they got complicated. Each team was given a “complimentary” black flag, which could be used within the first hour of the race. A stiff competition with teams made up of pro ALMs drivers and other motorsport companies, but EMT 1 (or Elan Motorsport Technologies 1, to give the full name) we’re confident. The kart was chosen, and it seemed pretty sturdy having been given a good once over and a few kicks. How hard could it be when some teams were made of Panoz top exec’s kids who couldn’t reach the pedals let alone nearly see over the steering wheel?

Practise was simple, learning the way of the track and the fact the grouting they’d promised to do barely existed. Sliding was key – sliding is what makes karting fun. Additional rules, such as paying to black flag other teams and buying back laps, gave what was already a promising evening the edge. For once, cheating (or buying your way to victory) WAS possible. Could it be that Stig of the Dump could actually win something? Surely not!?

The Sevenoaks member also representing the club in one of the support races for the main event, Petit Le Mans, started off and got a good stint in. He came in with tales of pushing to pass, and crashing to make up places – it seemed to be working and EMT1 were running well. Sadly, his two fingers up gesture whenever he passed an American wasn’t fully appreciated – seems they don’t have that gesture over there – shame.

Clever members of the EMT1 team decided to go off to see which other teams had carelessly left their complimentary black flags lying around. It worked, and up climbed EMT1 once again. Cheating really was key it seemed.

Lap after lap, crash after crash and yet the kart seemed to be holding up well. That was until two hours in. Two corners before pitting, it was involved in a huge pile up. But still, it was in one piece, and nothing to worry about – until it was driven.

In climbed the token female of the team. First lap – three spins. Cussing and thumping of the steering wheel were rumoured to have been going on, but no confirmation was ever made. The female decided that maybe girls really couldn’t drive after all – never had she driven a kart as badly as this. The first two spins had been non descript 180s, but the third finished in the wall.

Effing and blinding, another member of the team came to rescue the crap woman driver – why oh why had they given her the chance to compete? As every woman does, she started coming up with a list of excuses whilst the rest of the field came whizzing past. The worst was “a piece of metal is sticking in my leg every time I accelerate.” The male rescuer laughed it off but suggested a pit stop anyway.

In she came, and the problem was realised – a sticking brake pedal and wheels pointing in opposite directions don’t often help the speed factor. Ten minutes, five sweating people, a lot of hammering and some still dodgy direction pointing wheels and the kart was good to go.

EMT1 climbed back up to finish 23^rd overall, avoiding any more large crashes. Bodies were flying out of karts left right and centre – water being added to the track in the trickiest of corners always livens things up slightly. All faces were covered in black grime, and even the seven year old little girl racer hadn’t been reduced to tears by men six times her age pushing her into the barriers.

So, what did the Sevenoaks members learn from this? A race with no proper rules is a hell of a lot more fun. The bruises and pain are more than worth it.

Roll on the next club event, and we’ll show you how it’s done – properly, North American style.