The instructor suggested I think of myself as a crook evading the cops during a high-speed chase — across a parking lot.

My car swerved and squealed and squeaked as I punched the gas and slammed the brakes, weaving through and around cones and pushing the pace. Or at least trying.

On Sunday I attended a novice autocross driving school hosted by the Bremerton Sports Car Club at the Bremerton Motor Sports Park.

It was an all-day event, running from about 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., and the purpose was for rookie drivers like myself to learn how to race autocross. There were instructors on-site and students were required to bring their own cars. I borrowed a turbo-charged 2008 Pontiac Solstice GXP, worth about what I make in two years.

It may have been my only chance to test my mettle. The future of the speedway is flagging because of a road being built by the Port of Bremerton in the undeveloped and vast South Kitsap Industrial Area, or SKIA, where the track is located near Bremerton National Airport.

When the incomplete road is finished it will extend from Highway 3 to the north end of the airport’s runway along Lake Flora Road, providing easier access to SKIA, said port spokeswoman Chris Case. The problem, at least for car enthusiasts, is the road is supposed to cut across where the current racetrack sits.

That means the Bremerton Sports Car Club, a nonprofit founded in 1973, would have to find a new track to race because the site would be closed down. The Sports Car Club of America also races at the location.

“It would be a heartbreaker for us and many other people,” said Jason Rushforth, a self-proclaimed car enthusiast who started racing about a year ago and attended the novice school, driving a 1999 Subaru Forester. “It’s a great outlet for a lot of people.”

That was evident Sunday, when about 40 people turned out for the class in addition to the dozen-or-so volunteer instructors who stayed all day and taught us how to race. When we pulled up to the site around 8 a.m. there were already at least 30 sports cars lined up, some with popped hoods and others on jacks, and many of the instructors were out on the course setting it up.

My guess is some of the instructors were there before 7 a.m., perhaps earlier, gearing up for what turned out to be an action-packed day.

Before we buckled up, the students were put through a brief orientation and given a crash-course in autocross.

Autocross requires drivers to navigate twisting courses in a race against the clock. Courses are made up of orange cones and range in layout and size, but most take between 40 and 70 seconds to complete.

Although every course is different — and they are sometimes modified between runs — they generally include slaloms and gates and steep corners, all testing the reaction time and technical abilities of the person behind the wheel. Autocross isn’t so much about speed because there are so many bends and turns. Instead, the key to a having a good run is to be efficient and clean on all corners and obstacles.

Time penalties are assessed to drivers who plow through and over cones or miss gates all together, mistakes that came to define my day on the track. Getting through a course mistake-free sounds easy — rarely do drivers exceed 60 or 70 mph unless there are straightaways — but this is not the case.

I learned that much during my first run, following a course walk-through and safety lesson with my driving instructor, Michelle, who shared a story about one particularly overzealous driver who lost control of his car and smacked into a bystander on the side of the track and broke both that person’s legs.

“Full-body casts and crunched cars, wahoo! Go get ‘em, rook!”

I lurched out of the starting line like an old push-lawnmower, the Solstice’s 260 horsepower engine purring despite my awkward shift from first gear to second. The first portion of the course required drivers to pass through a few gates, then weave in and out of a five- or six-cone slalom, each orange rubber pyramid about 25 feet from the next.

Motoring through the slalom, I successfully smashed two cones and missed a gate before rounding for the second leg of the course, which included more slaloms and more turns and more obstacles I failed to navigate.

The clock read 114.-something seconds when I squealed into the finish line, my instructor silent in the passenger seat before delivering the predictable, “Oh-shake-it-off-kid-it-was-your-first-time” speech. I witnessed other rookies post times far below 114, like in the 80s, before me.

One of them was a quiet little lady who may or may not have been older than my 61-year-old mother.

Autocross is unique because it’s an equalizer sport, meaning height and weight and gender don’t influence results and performance. Ten people can drive the same car, on the same track, and they all would have an equal chance of posting the best time.

There were competitors of all shapes and sizes on Sunday, ranging from a soft-spoken mother to a pair of boisterous teenagers to a father who brought his 16-year-old daughter.

“The car doesn’t care if you are male or female,” said Bremerton Patriot community columnist Colleen Smidt, who for reasons I’m still unsure allowed me to drive her car. “What matters is your driving skill, mixed with a certain amount of strategy and a dash of competitive confidence.”

My confidence went in reverse as the afternoon wore on.

Before a lunch break that included cheeseburgers, soda and chips, an instructor named Joey drove the Solstice as I sat frozen in the passenger seat. Although he kicked up at least three cones, he navigated the course in 75 seconds, 40 seconds faster than me, and reached nearly 70 mph on the straightaway. I wouldn’t have been pulled over in a school zone when I took the straightaway.

Knowing the car’s capabilities post-lunch, I promised myself I’d keep the burger and my times down. And with four more chances to navigate the course, which had been slightly altered during the break, my chances were good.

Not so much.

Of the four afternoon dashes on the new-look course, which was shorter, my fastest time was about 70 seconds, an easy 10 seconds off the best times.

In a particularly reckless conclusion to my last run, I missed the final gate and swerved off the course, shooting past the finish line all together. The run went down as a “no-time.”

But at least I wasn’t arrested.