In this region, there are typically three run groups, each with something to do. During each run group, approximately one-third of the drivers are on the track running their laps and another third of the drivers are working the track. If they're not prepping their car for the track, waiting for their turn, or actually on the track, drivers are picking up cones or organizing the grid for the next cars to hit the course. It's a precision ballet in which everyone has a role.

The first major lesson I learned from autocrossing came courtesy of Ben Johnson at the season's first race: It pays to know your route.

Ben, a fellow weekend autocrosser who drives a 2007 Volkswagen GTI, approached the Beetle and asked for a ride. Once aboard, my co-driver and I headed for the course in the parking lot at Citizen's Bank Park. The course was a long one, difficult to memorize in the single walk-through--and this became all too apparent as the green light flashed.

I punched the gas and entered the first gate, immediately realizing I was lost. With his experience and quick thinking, Ben shouted, "Left!" A hasty look to the left and I saw it, the next gate. My adrenalin pumping, Ben navigated me through the long course. After taking out a handful of cones, I felt ready to prove my mettle with a second pass.

As we taxied back to the grid to prepare for round two, Ben reviewed my first run. With so many flattened pylons, it was obvious to me I had plenty to improve on. He pointed out the particularly bad parts of the 90-second course where I approached turns improperly or too quickly. With my heart rate back to near-normal levels, my mind was working well enough to understand and make the needed corrections, at least mentally.

Round two went somewhat better--but still concluded with the dreaded "off course" announcement over the loudspeaker. Each cone hit means two seconds off the final time, but with so many cones plowed into orange skid marks, it's just better to say "it doesn't count" and move on.

It was that stinkin' hard right-hander in the middle of the course that kept bringing my run to a grinding halt. At the end of the second (of three) parking lots, a straightaway allows the car to run hard and fast before it ends abruptly with a wall of cones that direct the driver to slam on the brakes and pitch the car right into the third parking lot. Ben saw it coming. I learned too late that the Beetle had gathered too much speed on the straight and would never change directions quick enough to make it. Thus, the dead soldiers at the turn.

Once again, Ben talked me down. In reviewing this lap, he praised all of the run except for that faithful corner. "Not so fast in that straight," he coached me, those 12 infernal cones forever etched in my mind. Next time I'll be ready!

With just two more runs left on the day, all of Ben's advice got organized into a game plan. The third run must be a good one, I encouraged myself. Keep those cones upright! And the green light came on....

The Beetle's turbo sprang to life. The car lurched forward. A quick turn to the right set the car up for a hard left-hander, almost doubling back. In the corner of the lot, the gate directed the car to the left and up through a slalom where we reached as much as 50 m.p.h. before the brakes hauled my red rocket down for the sweeping right turn directing us back toward the starting gate. But before leaving the course, the car headed back up the lot into the hard right turn that led to the second parking area. Almost 30 seconds had elapsed.

The Beetle turned right into the second lot. The hairpin turn switched