Next Event: Formula Ford Festival -

June 22, 2026

Racing to your strengths

Author Thumbnail

Harrison Morrow

Racing Newer Cars
Racing newer Formula Fords taught me a lesson I wasn’t expecting.
When I first started racing against modern Formula Fords, I only asked one question:
“How do I beat them?”
Over time, I realised I was asking the wrong question.
The better question was:
“Why are they faster, and where can I fight back?”
In the United Formula Ford Championship, it may seem like all the cars are the same, but that is far from the truth. I race a 1992 Reynard in the Heritage class, regularly competing against Star class cars built between 2000 and 2026. On paper they are all Formula Fords, but on track there are significant differences.
At first, I looked at the newer cars and saw only a disadvantage. Now, after racing against them many times, I have learned to look at them differently. Instead of focusing on where I lose time, I try to understand where they are stronger, where they are weaker and how I can adapt my driving to compete with them.
Round three of the United Formula Ford Championship at Mallory Park was a good example. I spent a lot of time studying the newer cars, watching their lines and seeing where they gained time compared to my Reynard. I wanted to understand where they had an advantage and where my older car could still fight back.
The newer cars benefit from decades of development. Their chassis are generally stiffer, their suspension geometry has evolved and they often have advantages in mechanical grip and straight-line performance. They are also incredibly robust. At Mallory, I watched one driver hit the wall heavily on the left-hand side of the car and continue on to win the race.
That extra development gives them advantages, particularly in dry conditions, but it also means I need to think differently.
I cannot simply drive my Reynard the same way they drive their cars.
To stay with them, I have to maximise momentum and corner exits. If I can stay close enough through a corner, I can remain in the slipstream and tow down the straight. Once the gap opens, it becomes very difficult to close again because the newer cars can use their extra performance to pull away.
That means every corner matters.
The team works hard to make the Reynard as responsive and competitive as possible, but my job is to understand where I can minimise the disadvantages and maximise the strengths of the car I have.
One of the biggest lessons I have learned is that it is a mistake to fight another car where it is strongest.
If a newer car has a straight-line speed advantage, trying to drag race it down the straight is rarely the smartest move. Unless I have a significantly better exit or a large overspeed advantage, I am likely to lose out and potentially lose contact with the group ahead.
Instead, I try to apply pressure.
I stay close.
I remain in their mirrors.
I look for mistakes.
When an opportunity appears, I need to be decisive and make the move quickly and cleanly. The goal is not simply to overtake. The goal is to overtake while staying connected to the battle ahead.
This becomes even more important when racing in a pack. Whenever possible, you want to work together, use the slipstream and help drag the group forward. Once drivers start fighting each other, opportunities appear and positions can change very quickly.
That is when preparation and decision-making become critical.
Racing newer cars has taught me that being at a disadvantage does not mean you cannot compete.
It means you have to think differently.
You have to understand your own strengths, understand your opponent’s strengths and make decisions accordingly.
Sometimes the fastest car wins.
Sometimes the driver who understands the situation best wins.
That is the lesson I have been learning every time I line up against machinery that is up to thirty years newer than my own.

Explore Recent Articles

At the centre of it all is an ongoing study of grip — how it is created, how it is managed, how it is lost and recovered. Mechanical balance. Load transfer. The discipline of holding a slide at speed rather than fearing it. Understanding not just when a car moves, but why.