I could say it was winning Mod Rear at a divisional rallycross championship with a borrowed car with a broken rearend housing and Sumitomo summer tires that I'd corded during the event... or winning Prepared Front the next year at the same venue on high performance summer tires, cementing the idea that gummy slickish tires are best on hard packed clay.
Or the time I won overall at a Norwalk Raceway Park bracket race, with a manual transmission car that was very sensitive ET-wise to changing weather conditions (sundown was worth 5 tenths!)...
But. My proudest moment was not something I did myself, but something that the rallycross community did that I was a part of. Or rather, that I caused. See, I won MR in 2015, won PF in 2016. In 2018 I wanted to win Stock AWD, so I dutifully mounted the gummiest tires I could quickly find to my S60R, grabbed my helmet, and showed up.
That was my first and only run. I was told that my car was dripping something. "Yeah, I have the A/C blasting!" (So decadent!) No no, it's black. Get out and look, and there was an explosion of transmission fluid from the bellhousing area, and it was freeflowing with the engine running. E36 M3!!
I dutifully completed my morning corner working duties while I tried to work out how the hell I was going to get home, let alone to work on Monday. During the lunch break, I was speaking with Bob Martin, and he tells me I'll be okay. He introduces me to Jim Kloosterman, who hands me the keys to his new Silverado and tells me to be back by noon tomorrow.
So, we get a push party, load my now-immobile Volvo on the trailer ("Oh, it's a Type R!" said one of the pushers. Well not really, but let's go with that), I drive many hours down to EvanB's place, drop off my ATF-incontinent P2R, load up the Tofu Montero, and grab a few hours of sleep.
Drive back up to I-96 Speedway, unload the Montero, hand the keys back to Jim just as the event is finishing up, say some quick hi/byes to my friends to let them know what happened, and head for home.
As I am leaving, I drive up through people walking back to paddock from the area where awards ceremony was. I see someone puzzle at who this person was in a white Montero with SCCA RallyCross banner on the windshield and an Ohio license plate. Then they realize what happened and we give each other thumbs up. I could hear the Mentos music in my head.
Why am I proud of this? The RallyCross community is full of awesome people. Some dumbass breaks his European luxury liner and without question, a complete stranger hands him the keys to his truck with nothing other than a request to be back in 24 hours, a group of people just sort of showed up to push the heavy-ass dead car on the trailer, and I ended up with a really sweet trucklet to drive while my car was dead (Eternal thanks, Evan!). I feel warm and fuzzy about all this and do what I can to pay it forward when I can.