DECEMBER 25, 1990: dressed in my favourite pyjamas, still looking like I’d been dragged through a hedge backwards and surrounded by wrapping paper, I watched as my dad opened his Christmas present.
Though I was over the moon with my Sylvanian Families and Popple cuddly toy, I watched jealously as my dad unwrapped a Scalextric set, complete with dips, hairpins and, best of all, two shiny new MG 6R4 Metros.
I may have been only five years old, but I knew that this was one cool present. We sat for most of that afternoon, legs crossed, assembling the coolest track in Cuminestown.
In fact, I remember sitting in pretty much the same position for weeks after Christmas, racing controller squeezed tightly in my hand, trying to master the corners without spinning off, or avoiding the deadly paws of my cat, Sammy.
Though now 23, I had never been round a track as much fun as the one we built on the living room floor. That was, until a couple of weeks ago, when I was invited to try out a replica of Silverstone race track at Lochter Activity Centre, near Old Meldrum.
Let me first quash any preconceptions you may have about my driving abilities. I may boast about my prowess on the Scalextric track, but that’s about as far as my experience with track driving stretches.
Following a disastrous attempt to drive a quad bike around a track in Portugal when I was 15, which saw me mistakenly press the throttle instead of the brake and disappear over the edge of the deep, rutted track to the sounds of my family and friends’ laughter, I haven’t really built up the greatest reputation for driving small vehicles around twisty tracks.
I may be the same age as Lewis Hamilton, but that’s where the similarities end.
Mind you, this time, I had a goal. Racing against me at Lochterstone would be my ultimate rival – my partner and all-round critic of my driving abilities. If I was going to beat anyone, it had to be him.
We clambered our way into our racing suits (apparently racing drivers don’t come in 6ft 5in sizes, so Jason cut a fetching figure in a knee-length suit) before perusing the track which we would soon go to war on.
At one kilometre long, there’s plenty of room to fit in the 15 white-knuckle corners which have proved so tricky for drivers at Silverstone. The track can be used in all weathers, but it was a calm, cool and dry day, meaning it would take a few laps to warm up our tyres, allowing them to get as sticky as possible.
Then we were introduced to the machines which would carry us round the track.
The French-built Sodi karts we were racing may be no match for the F1 cars that Silverstone is used to, but they can certainly pick up speed. The 270cc karts have a top speed of 55mph and, with slick racing tyres, they can take corners at very high speeds.
As Jason folded himself up in an attempt to fit in behind the wheel, I gave him a menacing look. He seemed oblivious to my determination, though, as he continued to untangle his feet from behind his neck.
Our racing compere for the day, Lochter’s Howard Hughes, held the flag in front of us before attempting his best Murray Walker impression and screaming, “Go, go, go”.
And go is certainly what these karts do well. Sink the foot ever so slightly and the rear-wheel-drive kart flies forward at an alarming pace. In fact, I was up to my fifth corner before I even realised where I was. One thing I was aware of, however, was that Jason Schumacher was approaching, and fast.
I don’t have a competitive bone in my body, but I do have a very determined streak, so as soon as I caught sight of his front wheels coming up behind me, I sank my right foot.
Coming up to the Lochterstone equivalent of Luffield, I got my first real adrenaline rush as the back flicked out, the wheels spun wildly and I yanked the kart round the tight bend before flooring it down what would be the pits straight.
These karts are literally inches off the ground so, after six laps of shuddering, screeching and sliding, I realised something strange. I had completely lost the feeling in my rear end (mine, not the kart’s).
Taking a second to contemplate how I would regain the feeling in my derriere proved near fatal as my opponent zoomed up behind me.
Focus, Colene, focus.
With expert handling, if I do say so myself, I negotiated the tricky tyre slalom that had been set up on the last straight of the circuit before crossing the finishing line, waving my arms, whooping and, of course, pulling faces at Jason.
So this is how it feels to be Lewis Hamilton, I thought. All that was missing was the champagne bottle.
Following our fierce battle on the tarmac, we decided to let our hair down with a blast in some Rage buggies. These rally-style buggies, featured on Top Gear, have a maximum speed of 65mph.
Not that we would have known this as very wet grass meant that most of our time was spent drifting sideways towards a very deep and cold looking ditch, or simply spinning round and round doing (unintentional) doughnuts.
Once we had mastered how to handle the buggies, there was no stopping us as we leaped over dips, bounced through puddles and slid around corners.
In fact, our grins were the only things you could see as we emerged, looking like something from a Cadbury’s chocolate advert. Removing my helmet, I was left with a lovely stripe of dirt across my face which, Howard insisted, had magical moisturising properties.
So there it goes. Eighteen years on, I’m still a pro on the track. My masterful drifting in the Rage buggies meant I was miles in front of my opponent who, unfortunately, found himself locked in a never-ending doughnut at the end of the grass track. I finally regained my champion’s title.
But, alas, I have to come clean. Despite the determined grimace on my face, the winning pose and the shots of my kart racing across the line in front of Jason’s, I was, unfortunately, pipped to the post on the tarmac.
But it was with the biggest grin, and numbest posterior, that I accepted my second place on the podium.
Never mind, I can always dig out the old Scalextric next week and regain my title of McKessick rally champion.
For more information about Lochter Activity Centre, call 01651 872000, or see www.lochter.co.uk