Driving a car is a classic problem in control. Here, we mean control
in the technical sense of control theory, an established branch of
engineering science (once again, I find http://www.britannica.com
to have a very nice, brush-up article on that term). In a more-or-less
continuous fashion, the driver compares desired direction, speed, and
acceleration with actual direction, speed, and acceleration. The driver uses
visual input to sense actual direction and speed; and uses visceral, inertial
feedback-the butt sensor-for actual acceleration. When the actual differs too
much from the desired, the driver applies throttle, brake, steering, and gear
selection to change the actual. These inputs cause the tyres to react with the
ground, which pushes back against the tyres, and through the suspension, pushes
the body of the car and driver. Drivers in high-speed circumstances can also
generate desired aerodynamic forces, as in slipstreaming, in the "slingshot
pass," and in the Earnhardt TIP manoeuvre, where the driver "takes the
air off" the spoiler of the car in front of him.
Tyres generate forces by sticking and sliding and everything in between. They
transmit these forces to the wheels by elastic deformation. The elastic
deformation is extremely complex and theoretical computation requires numerical
solution of finite-element equations. However, despite fierce trade secrecy,
industry and academia have reached apparent consensus in recent years on a
formula that summarizes experimental and theoretical data. This so-called magic
formula is not a solution to equations of motion-a solution in such a
form is not feasible. It's just a convenient fitting of commonplace mathematical
functions to data. It allows one to compute forces at a higher precision than
something like RARS (see parts 16 and 19 of the Physics of Racing [PhOR]),
but without integrating equations. Therefore, forces can be computed within a
reasonable time, say in a real-time simulation program.
To understand the magic formula, we need first to define its inputs, which
include slip. Slip is an indirect measure of the fraction of the
contact patch that is sticking. It is frequently asserted in the literature that
a tyre with no slip at all cannot create forces. It has taken me a very long
time to accept this assertion. Why can I steer a tin-toy car with metal tyres on
a hard surface like Formica? If there is any slip in such tyres, it is
microscopic, yet there are sufficient forces to brake and steer, even if just a
little. I finally caved in when I realized that the forces are minute, also. If
there is any friction between the tyre and the surface, there MUST be slip, as
it is defined below. Though to a very small degree, the Formica and the tiny
contact patches of the tin tyres actually twist and stretch each other. The only
way to eliminate slip completely is to eliminate GRIP completely. Any grip, and
you will have slip.
There are two, slightly different flavours of the magic formula. The longitudinal
one is the subject of this entire instalment of PhOR, and we cover the lateral
one in the next instalment. Longitudinal slip is along the mean plane of the
wheel and might also be called circumferential or tangential. It
creates braking and accelerating forces. Lateral slip is our old friend grip
angle [PhOR-10], and it generates cornering forces.
We write longitudinal slip as
.
It's defined by the actual angular velocity,
,
of a wheel plus tyre under braking or acceleration, compared to
the corresponding angular velocity of the same wheel plus tyre when rolling
freely. We write the free-rolling angular velocity as
,
where V is the current, instantaneous velocity of the hub
centreline of the wheel with respect to the ground, and Re
is the effective radius, a constant defined below. Since the dimensions of
V are length/time, and the dimensions of any radius are length, the ratio,
, has
dimensions of inverse time. In fact, it should be viewed as measuring radians
per unit time, radians being the natural, dimensionless measure of angular
rotation. There are
radians in one rotation or one circumference of a circle, just as the length of the
circumference is
times the radius.
Let's begin the discussion of longitudinal slip with a question. Consider a
wheel-tyre combination with 13-inch radius or 26-inch diameter, say a 255-50/16
tyre on a 16-inch rim. The "50" in the tyre specification is the ratio
of the sidewall height to the tread width, which is also written into the
specification as 255, millimetres understood. We get a sidewall height of 50
percent of 255 mm, which is 5.02 inch. Therefore, the total, unloaded
radius, half of the tread-to-tread diameter, is about 5 + 16/2
= 13 Inch. Now consider a rigid tyre of the same radius, made, say, of steel or
of wood with an iron tread like old Western wagon wheels. The question is
whether, given a certain constant hub velocity, pneumatic tyres spin faster
than, slower than, or at the same speed as equivalent rigid tyres?
At first glance, one might say, "Well, faster, obviously. Since the
pneumatic tyre compresses radially under the weight of the car, its radius is
actually smaller than the unloaded radius at the point of contact, where it
sticks and acquires linear velocity equal in magnitude and opposite in direction
to the hub velocity. Since smaller wheels spin faster than larger ones at the
same speed, the pneumatic tyre spins faster than the equivalent rigid tyre of
the same unloaded radius. Let the unloaded, natural radius of the pneumatic tyre
be R, also the radius of the equivalent solid tyre. If the hub has
velocity V, the solid tyre spins with angular velocity
.
Since the loaded radius, of the pneumatic tyre,
Rl, is smaller than R,
V/Rl, the angular velocity of the
loaded pneumatic tyre, must be larger than V/R."
This is partly correct. The pneumatic tyre-wheel combination does spin
faster than a rigid wheel of the same unloaded radius, but it does not
spin as fast as a rigid wheel of the same loaded radius, which is the
height of the hub centre off the ground under load. The reason is that the tyre
also compresses circumferentially or tangentially, setting up
complex longitudinal twisting in the sidewall. The tangential speed of a
particle of tread varies as the particle goes around the circumference of the
tyre.
Let's mentally follow a piece of tread around as the wheel, not
necessarily the tyre, turns at a constant radial velocity,
.
Imagine a plug of yellow rubber embedded in the tread, so that you could visually track it
or photograph it with a movie camera or strobe system as it moves around the
circumference. The rubber of the tread does not travel at constant speed, even
though the wheel supporting the tyre does. At the top of the tyre, the radius is
almost exactly R, the unloaded radius, so the tread
moves with tangential velocity
.
As the yellow plug rolls around and approaches the contact patch
from the front, it slows down in the bunched up area at the leading edge
of the contact patch-just forward of it. There is a bunched-up area,
because the tyre is made up of elastic material that gets squeezed and stretched
out of the contact patch and piles up ahead of the contact patch as it rolls
into it from the direction of the leading edge. Eventually, the plug enters the
patch, in the centre of which it must move at speed
relative to the hub centre, that is, backwards at a speed dictated by the
loaded radius and the wheel velocity. We've assumed that the
plug is not slipping on the ground at the point where it has speed
with respect to the hub. This means that it has speed zero with respect to the
ground at that point.
The average of the tangential velocities around the wheel defines the
effective radius, Re, as follows. Let
measure the angular position, from 0 to
,
around the wheel. Suppose we knew the tangential velocity with respect to the hub centre,
V(
),
at every .
We could easily measure this with our strobe light and cameras. V(
) gives
us the radius at every angular position via the equation V(
)/
= R(
), where
is the constant angular velocity of the wheel. The average would be computed by the following integral:
Let's run some numbers. 10 mph is 14
feet/second or 176 inches/second. With an unloaded circumference of
inch/revolution, we get 176/
= 2.154 revs per second, or 129 RPM for each 10 MPH. Under
ordinary circumstances, the effective radius will be no more than a few percent
less than then the unloaded radius, and the RPMs should be, then, a few percent
more than 129 RPM per 10 MPH. At 100 MPH, the tyre is under considerable stress
and spins at something over 1,300 RPM.
Now we're in a position to define longitudinal slip, written
.
We want a quantity that vanishes when the wheel rolls at constant speed, increases when
the wheel accelerates the car by pulling the contact patch backwards, and
decreases below zero when then wheel brakes the car by pushing the contact patch
forward. Under acceleration, the wheel and tyre combination will tend to spin a
little faster than it would do while free rolling. We already know that, for a
given V, the free-rolling angular velocity is
, by
definition. The actual angular velocity,
,
then, is higher under acceleration. So, if we know V,
,
and the constant Re, then we can define the longitudinal slip
as the ratio, minus 1, so that it's zero under free-rolling conditions:
Just looking at this formula, a free-rolling wheel has
,
= 0
a locked-up wheel under braking has
= 0,
= -1
and an accelerating wheel has a positive of any value.
The magic formula yields the longitudinal force, in Newtons, given some
constants and dynamic inputs. The formula takes eleven empirical numbers that
characterize a particular tyre {b0, b1
...b10}.
The dynamic parameters are Fz, or weight, in KiloNewtons
on the tyre, and the instantaneous slip,
.
The eleven numbers are measured for each tyre. We borrow an example from
Motor Vehicle Dynamics by Giancarlo Genta. On page 528, he offers the
following numbers for a car that appears to be a Ferrari 308 or 328, to which
I have added dimensions:
b0
1.65
dimensionless
b1
0
1/MegaNewton
b2
1688
1/Kilo
b3
0
1/MegaNewton
b4
229
1/Kilo
b5
0
1/KiloNewton
b6
0
1/(KiloNewton)2
b7
0
1/KiloNewton
b8
-10
dimensionless
b9
0
1/KiloNewton
b10
0
dimensionless
Though the majority of these values are zero for the tyres on this car, it is
by no means always the case. In fact, the 'large-saloon' example just before the
(alleged) Ferrari in Genta's book has no zeros.
We build up the magic formula in stages. The first helper quantity is
µp = b1Fz + b2.
This is an estimate of the peak, longitudinal coefficient of friction,
fitted as a linear function of weight (see Part 7 of PhORs). From this
definition, we begin to see what's going with the dimensions. A typical,
streetable sports car might weigh in at 3,000 lbs, which is about
3,000 / 2.2 = 1,500 * 0.9 = 1,350 kg,
which is about 1,350 * 9.8 = 13,200 Newtons, or 13.2
KiloNewtons (look, ma, no calculator!). Let's assume each tyre gets a quarter of
that to start off with, or 3.3 KN. b1 multiplies that number
to give us something with dimensions of KiloNewton/MegaNewton, which we write
simply as 1/Kilo (inventing units on-the-fly, one Mega = 1 Kilo squared). b2
has the same dimensions, so it's kosher to add it in, yielding
µp = 1688 / Kilo in
this case. The next step is the helper D = µpFz,
which will be in Newtons. We now see the reason for the 1/Kilo unit. In our
case, we get about D = (1700 - 12) * 3.3 = 5610 - 40 = 5570
N. The important point is that Dis linear inFz,
so µp acts, mathematically, like a coefficient of friction,
as promised. b2 is a pretty direct measurement of stickiness,
times 1,000 for convenience. This model tyre has a coefficient of friction of
almost 1.7! Not my data, man.
The next step is to compute the product of a new helper, B, times b0
and the aforecomputed D. The magicians who created the formula tell us
that Bb0D = (b3Fz2 + b4Fz)
exp(-b5Fz).
This slurps up a few more of the magical eleven empirical numbers, and a pattern
emerges. These bi numbers serve as coefficients in polynomial
expressions over Fz. So, b5Fz
is dimensionless, as must be the argument of the exponential function.
b3Fz2 +
b4Fz
has dimensions of Newtons, as does the entire product. Therefore, B must
be dimensionless. We need B in the next step, so let's solve for it now:
,
Where we've been able symbolically to divide out one factor of Fz,
convenient especially for numerical computation, where overflow is an
ever-present hazard. Continuing with our numerical sample,
b3Fz +
b4 = 229 / Kilo,
the exponential is unity, and the numerator is
yielding B = 229 / 2786 = 0.0822. Most
importantly, Bdepends only weakly onFz. In the
sample case, not at all, because b1 = b3 = b5 = 0,
but there are lots of other ways to characterize the algebraic dependence of B
on Fz.
The next step is to account for the longitudinal slip with another helper, S = (100
+ b9Fz + b10);
in our sample case, this reduces to just S = 100
.
Only one more helper is needed, and that's E = (
b6Fz2
+ b7Fz
+ b8), very straightforward. The final formula is
Once again, don't try to find any physics in here: it's just a convenient
formula that fits the data reasonably well. Plugging in numbers for
= 0, because that's an easy sanity check to do in our heads, we see immediately the
result is zero. Let's try S = 10, ten percent slip.
SB = 0.822, tan-1(0.822) = 0.688,
E = -10, so the argument of the outer arctangent is
SB - 10 * (-0.266) = SB
+ 2.66 = 3.48, tan-1(3.48) = 1.29, 1.29
b0 = 2.13, sin(2.13) = 0.848, and, finally,
D * 0.848 = 4720 Newtons. Lots of longitudinal
force for a 3,300 N vertical load!
Let's plot the whole formula:
The horizontal axis measures S = 100
,
which is really just slip in percent. The deep axis, going into the page, measures
Fz from 5 KN, nearest us, to zero in the back.
The vertical axis measures the result of applying the formula to our model tyre,
so it's longitudinal force-force of launching or braking. Notice that for a load
of 5 KN, the model tyre can generate almost 8 KN of force. Very sticky tyre, as we've already
noticed! Also notice that the generated force peaks at around
= 0.08, or 8 percent. The peak would be something one could definitely feel
in the driver's seat. Overcooking the throttle or brakes would produce a palpable
reduction in g-forces as the tyres start letting go. Worse than that, increasing
braking or throttle beyond the peak leads to reduced grip. This is an instability area,
where increasing slip leads to decreasing grip.
Finally, note that the function behaves roughly linearly with Fz,
showing that it acts like a Newtonian coefficient of friction, albeit a
different one for each value of slip.