Those Who Wait (Formula 1 - Daniel Ricciardo)

1... The girl on the pit wall

Australia 2015

I swung my legs as I sat on the pitwall, watching drivers and engineers doing their track-walks ahead of the weekend's race. That should have been me, but this time it wasn't.

I had bowed out of GP2 racing at the end of the last season, following an adjustment to my contract with a formula 1 team. I'd been with Red bull racing for a long time, having raced as part of their junior team in both British Formula 3 and GP2, before graduating to the role of test driver for their F1 team in the season of 2013. I'd spent 2 years racing GP2 alongside my F1 duties, the GP2 races acting as a supporting event to the F1 grand prix. But with completing my super license in 2014, I'd been given the slot of reserve driver, albeit shared. This meant I was expected not to race in GP2 and to be available for testing, free practice driving and for the possibility of driving in the race.

I didn't hold much hope for driving more than a couple of free practices. I'd driven in practice sessions before, following in the footsteps of Susie Wolff just a few weeks after her first, history-making, practice session. Of course this had meant my drive was less publicized but that was how I liked it. Being a female driver is hard enough without everyone downgrading your targets. After all once the helmets on, you're not a man or a woman; you're just another driver.

*

I watched as the media bustled around the pitlane, mechanics and engineers working away in the garages, the cars the main spectacle.

The car was of course the reason I was here. It was one of my jobs to work on the development of the car, working out I what needed improvements with a variation of simulator testing and driving of the car in free practice. At the moment I'd been given China as my first free practice session, but plans could always change, especially in the fast paced world of F1.

*

So I hear you ask, who am I?

I am Noni Campbell, and I am a female racing driver. I suppose I'm quite short, as I am 5ft3, and I weigh no more than 50kg. But that's not to say I'm weak. Far from it. My training alone would make most grown men weep, let-alone the g-forces I endure while driving a car.

Now despite my Scottish surname, I grew up a long way from the lands of my grandfather. I was brought up in Surrey, with my very Scottish mother and slightly more English father. If you wonder why this matters so much, I should probably mention that my grandfather is very patriotic, and also one of the reasons I am where I am today.

He'd been the one to introduce me to karting, and the one to fund the racing, I loved so much but my parents begrudgingly accepted I could partake in. My grandfather inspired me, not only with his own racing, but also with the racing of his team as I grew up and the Grand Prix he would take me to. You see my grandfather is Sir Jackie Stewart, so I guess it would only be natural that one of his grandchildren shared his love of racing fast cars.

*

I swung my legs back over to the pitlane side of the wall and hopped down, crossing to the garage and disappearing into the shade. The teams were very different from when I had first set foot inside of an F1 garage aged 5 or 6. It was much cleaner now, although just as serious.

I headed straight out to the race trucks at the back of the garages, heading inside and bumping into my team principle.

Christian was someone I respected, not only for his dedication to the team but both his enthusiasm for the sport and the faith he put in each of the drivers. Never once had he shown any doubt towards me as a driver due to my gender, he always chose his drivers based on who was best for the team, it was just that at the moment I was 3rd in line.