The BMW with the carbon-fiber roof was going insanely fast.

Fast as in: We're-going-to-roll-26-times-and-end-up-a-twisted-hulk-of-smoking-wreckage fast. Beyond the laws of physics fast. Faster than I imagined a street vehicle could possibly negotiate a corner.

I grabbed the door handle, said my prayers and prepared for a one-way trip to the Great Racetrack in the Sky as T.C. Kline steered into the curve at 85 mph.

Incredibly, all four wheels stayed on the ground. We slingshotted around, revved up to 125 mph and T.C. braked hard for the next bend at Buttonwillow Raceway Park, a Grand Prix-type course off Interstate 5 in a desolate stretch of Kern County.

I struggled to wipe the grin off my face. I had to remind myself why The Sentinel was paying me to do this.

How lucky can a guy get?

Kline's presence was understandable. He was using the car to test an after-market suspension system he designs to enhance BMW performance.

My justification was Eddy Funahashi, the calm, mild-mannered owner of Ed's Tick Tock Jewelers in Hanford who has everybody fooled into thinking he's just another conservative Hanford resident.

Not exactly.

Funahashi was in Buttonwillow as a chief instructor for the BMW Car Club of America driving school.

His passion is teaching people how to explore the upper limits of their vehicles.

It makes logical sense. A financially successful guy goes to a BMW dealership and buys a car that is comfortable at 140 mph on straightaways, corners miraculously and can brake fast enough to make your eyes pop out.

Salesman tells guy he can join the BMW Car Club of America and show up to one of several racetracks to fulfill his car's Autobahn-level ability.

Guy shows up to Buttonwillow on a BMWCCA driving school day, and the fun begins.

How much fun?

Remember tearing around a go-cart track and banging up your shins with your reckless driving?

Now blow that go-cart up to a full-sized car. Stretch out the track to a few miles. Toss in some death-defying speed. And multiply the skill level by a factor of 20.

That gives some idea of what it's like to drive a high-performance car on a track course.

Not everybody can afford the thrill of actually doing it. Add up the cost of the car, the track fees, the price of gas and other expenses, and it gets to be a demanding hobby.

It's no mystery what kind of person does this kind of thing.

"They spend a lot of money to buy a premium car that has a capability that can't be safely used on the street," said Dan Tackett, a BMW dealership owner who was helping Funahashi organize the day's instruction at the Buttonwillow track.

At the event I attended, students and instructors were mostly male. Mid to late 40s, maybe early 50s. Fairly successful in high-pressure jobs. A lot of surgeons, lawyers and the like.

Throw in Funahashi and Ralph Warren, a 41-year-old sales rep from Irvine who instructs in the BMW school and races in sanctioned events.

Ralph showed up at Buttonwillow in an innocent-looking BMW station wagon and invited me for a ride.

The first lap, I stuck my head out of the sun roof and photographed a line of BMWs, Porsches and other speedy autos behind us.

Then Ralph asked me to pull my head in. He handed me a helmet. He got the go signal from the track staff for lap number two.

We accelerated violently and headed into the first turn at outrageous speed, tires screeching and the station wagon threatening to buck like a bronco.

Ralph executed several short but violent jerks of the wheel to maintain control, and we were through, slamming into a higher gear and rocketing up to 125 miles per hour.

There were a few seconds of disturbing ambiguity where I wasn't sure if Ralph was a supremely good driver or a crazed lunatic.

"It's very addictive," he said.

It's the kind of thing that either scares you spitless or leaves you wanting more.

For most, it's instant love.

The objective is to experience the limits of both your driving ability and the car's objective speed capacity, but to do so safely.

The cost of one day at the BMWCCA school in Buttonwillow is approximately $45 for a club membership and $250 in track fees.

You also have to get an inspection on your vehicle, which doesn't have to be a BMW.

If you don't want to use your own car, the track rents cars for the day.

There are other driving schools that utilize the Buttonwillow track, but Funahashi said that the BMWCCA school is one of the safest.

The school has strict rules to make sure that all the testosterone, adrenaline and excitement doesn't get out of hand.

Instructors work students slowly up to speed. They are trained to keep people within their ability level, even kicking people out for risky maneuvers or lack of respect for the instruction.

Funahashi was managing this particular event as chief instructor, which meant the white BMW M3 he brought from Hanford went undriven.

No matter. Funahashi loves it so much, it didn't bother him. He's happy to run around organizing things and watching other people have their fun on the track.

He likes to see other people "get it" -- in other words, feel the pleasure of executing a perfect turn.

It's been a 15-year love affair for the 54-year-old jeweler, who spends most of his time grinding gemstones and refurbishing rings at Ed's Tick-Tock.

He inherited the business from his father, Edwin.

High-performance driving is all his own idea.

"That was something I was born into. This is something I credit myself," he said.

If the jeweler from Hanford feels self-conscious around the company CEOs, doctors, lawyers and other well-off professionals who populate the world of high-performance driving, he isn't letting on.

It doesn't matter what your job is once you get on the track, he said.

Among the track junkies there's instant camaraderie. You look at them, they look and you and you share the secret of moving much faster on land than most people have ever moved.

"There's endorphins. The hair on your arms stands up," Ralph said.

The reporter can be reached at 583-2432

(June 7, 2008)