Page 14 of Formula Fling

“Got it,” I say, but more questions spin from this initial information. “And how did you get into all this? I read that a lot of drivers start in karting but I’m not sure what that means.”

Lex nods, seeming a bit more relaxed now. “Yeah, I began in karting when I was five. It’s where you start if you want to be an FI driver—learning the basics, developing race craft, getting a feel for the speed.”

“And… it’s just a go-kart you drive around a track?” I ask, scribbling notes.

Eyes twinkling, he says, “It’s definitely a kart you drive around a track, but they’re a lot faster than what you Yanks typically think of. They’re designed for racing, not for Sunday picnics in the park.”

“Noted,” I mutter, writing down that exact line.

“From karting, I did a brief stint in the Crown Velocity driver’s academy before moving into Formula International 3, or FI3. That’s a development series and the first level of professional single-seater, open-wheel design racing. That’s where—”

“Wait… hold up,” I say, stopping in place to continue jotting notes. I glance up at him. “What do you mean single-seater, open wheel?”

To his credit, Lex doesn’t roll his eyes or make me feel stupid. “Open wheel just means the wheels aren’t enclosed by bodywork the way they are in, say, stock car racing.”

“And that’s important to the sport because…”

“Because coupled with the single-seat design, it centers the central cockpit around the driver for maximum aerodynamic efficiency, which is something you’ll learn more about in the meeting we’re headed to. These cars rely on aerodynamics to generate downforce, which keeps the cars stable at high speeds.”

“Which get up to two hundred miles per hour,” I chirp, showcasing some of the stuff I learned already.

“Overtwo hundred and thirty miles per hour.”

Laughing, I shake my head and tap on my notepad. “Back to the levels of racing. You said you went from karting to an academy to FI3.”

“Yeah, but let’s keep walking so I’m not late.” Lex continues, weaving us through the building. “FI3 is the first professional series you enter. All the cars have the same chassis and engine and there’s a limit to the horsepower. This phase of racing is for driver development—race craft, control, strategy—and for the chance to move upward to FI2.”

“Assume faster cars?” I muse as I scribble.

“More horsepower, but the teams all still have the same chassis and engine so the playing field is more level. Again, it’s to develop driver skill. And the best of those advance to the FI level, which is the pinnacle.”

“Where you design your own vehicles,” I say. It’s all coming together now.

“This level has the fastest, most technologically advanced cars the world’s engineers can create. We’re driving thousand-horsepower engines compared to only three hundred and eighty at the junior level. This is where you hope all that race craft and control you learned prior keeps you from getting smeared across the track at two hundred and thirty miles per hour.”

I swallow hard, suddenly understanding how elite you have to be to compete at Lex’s level. “It’s admirable that you’re here at only twenty-four years old.”

Lex chuckles and holds open a door for me to enter before him. “I guess. But when you consider I started at age five, it’s been a long journey. I won the FI2 Championship when I was nineteen and got called up to FI the following year.”

“Wow.” I am completely impressed. “So you’ve been in FI since you were… twenty?”

“Yep,” he says. “One of the youngest drivers to win a podium in FI too.”

Before I can respond, we reach a large door and he pushes it open, gesturing for me to go ahead. I step into the room, and it’s like stepping into another world. A long conference table is surrounded by engineers, each of them with laptops open, screens glowing with what I can only assume is important data. Three large flat-screens are on the wall, each showcasing charts and graphs that look like another language. I don’t understand how I’ll ask a single coherent question here today.

“Morning,” Lex says. “I’m sure you all got the memo from Harley, but this is Posey Evans. She’s a reporter writing an article on Crown Velocity and she’s going to be shadowing me through the first race. I thought she could learn some engineering today. Maybe you could each tell her what it is you do here at Crown Velocity.”

I feel every eye in the room on me. My notepad feels tiny in my hands compared to the serious machinery in front of them.

Lex starts with the introductions. “All right, Posey. These are the people who actually make the magic happen.” He points to a man at the head of the table with salt-and-pepper hair. “That’s Giovanni Scava, our aerodynamics engineer.”

Giovanni nods politely, pushes his glasses up his nose and speaks in a deep Italian accent. “My primary responsibility is optimizing the aerodynamic coefficients of the chassis, ensuring the laminar flow adheres to the bodywork with minimal boundary layer separation. We manipulate the airflow vector fields to maximize downforce while minimizing parasitic drag, particularly in high-speed straights and corner apexes. In addition—”

Lex holds up his hands. “Gio… mate… let’s dumb that down a bit. You’re makingmyeyes cross.”

There’s chuckling around the room and Giovanni mutters an apology. “Scusi. In simple terms, I’m in charge of making sure the car slices through the air as efficiently as possible. Downforce, drag, airflow—all of that determines how fast we can go and how stable the car feels in high-speed corners.”

I scribble down every word, even though I only half understand it. I’m determined to figure it out later.

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