FLIRTING WITH DEATH AT 100 M.P.H.

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12507, 24 July 1926, Page 11

FLIRTING WITH DEATH AT 100 M.P.H.

Woman describes the intoxication of a motor race in which she heat off all opponents —all men. SPEED! The roar of a powerful engine, a great car shooting forward like a shot from a bullet, the whip of the wind in the face, and the miles slipping away beneath you like a blur. Is there anything to equal it for sheer thrill and excitement ‘f If there is I haven’t discovered it. I have tried Hying, but the only thrill it gives me is that of terror. It’s speed that counts at least to liu*. Once you've got the lust nothiny can satisfy you. in t::e blood Because I’m a woman, people sometimes say to me: “But you can’t really like doing this sort of thing. Wouldn't you care for something less exciting—less risky:-'” I wouldn't give up racing for anything in the world. It's in my blood, and 1 love it. But I’ve not always been a speed fiend. Until a little over three years ago I’d done nothing more exciting than ride astride. And then my husband took me down to Brooklands and gave me my first taste of his velocity travelling. 1 stepped into the car without any particular enthusiasm. I stepped from it babbling with the sheer intoxication of speed. And that intoxication hasnever waned. Tiuee fuen I have been on the track more times than I can remember, and it lias always been the same. TTncli visit whets my appetite for more. When T announced my intention of taking part in my first race people said to me: “But you’ll he killed;! mu'ce nerve will never last out. j Don’t he foolish. Cancel vom- entry , before it's too late.” But in spite of tlieir entreaties, I was still keen

Half cn hour before George Duller, the jockey, rode his mount to victory at Sandown Park> his wife had won her fourth racing car victory at Brooklands.

In an interview Mrs Duller thus describes the thrill and excitement of flirting With death at over 100 miles an hour on the racing track . "It's speed ihat counts to me,” she says. "Speed, speed, and more speed. Once you oe got the lust nothing can satisfy you.”

om trying this wonderful new experience. THE GREAT MOMENT Still it was something of an ordeal all the same. The worst part of it- was the waiting for the start. I knew I should be all right once I was plunging down tho track with tlie throttlo full out. At last the great moment- came. With a terrific* roar from my engine, I was away. If f had been asked after the race to describe it I’m afraiu I couldn’t have done so. In fact I can’t now. It is like a dream. I have a blurred vision of the track unwinding before me like a ribbon. It came so fast that it seemed as though I were flying. .More by instinct tnan because I saw them I was aware of other cars. And then the next thing I knew was when they were telling me I had won.

Or course I was fearfully bucked. To think that a woman had beaten all those crack racing motorists! . I tell you I gave myself a metaphorical pat on the back. Altogether I have taken part in about six competitions at Brooklands and have won four. Thrills are pretty well inseparable from racing motoring. Sooner or later by the law of averages you will have yopr little flirtation with death. So far I have been very lucky, although on one occasion I thought it was all up. This was when I was driving the huge Levland. A‘t about 120 miles an hour I got into a skid and came within an aee of flying over the top of the banking. It was the narrowest escape I have ever had, and it shook me up. But X just wouTcln’T be scared away; I took the car out again by myself—l had a passenger the first* time—and I drove and drove until I got my nerve back.