EVERY TIME I GET THROUGH THE STEFAN Bellof ‘S’ unscathed, I breathe a little sigh of relief. It’s a wickedly fast, horribly bumpy right-left-right that rises steeply and then flows back downhill just when you crave a clear line of sight to know you’re on course to nibble the flat concrete exit kerbing. The BMW M4 GT4 is unsettled even before you reach this treacherous section, having just flown over the big jump at Pflanzgarten, and it never fully settles as the rear axle thumps over the ragged surface. The one thing that helps is squeezing the throttle wide open as early as possible. A cruel, taunting realisation and one that severely tests the connection between conscious thought, lizard-brain survival instinct and the muscles in your ankle that pivot your right foot.
Get it right and you’ll need an upshift to 6th halfway through the final right-hand sweep, then rattle over that kerb, feel the M4 get tugged to the left, and tease it back towards the tarmac. Slow hands. It makes sense that this portion towards the end of the Nordschleife is named after one of its true masters. The bravery, technical challenge and calmness required to get it right (or as right as a layman ever can) is exhausting and elating. There are just four corners left before reaching the sanctity of the undulating Döttinger Höhe straight and ticking off another lap. So breathe.
It’s just after 11pm and I’m reaching the end of the second lap of my double-stint as that exit
