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As many of you know, two years ago my track day didn't end well after a very sudden hiside coming out of Dunlop, badly mangling my left hand and leaving the right one not much better off. The R1 is my pride and joy and I will probably never want or be able to replace it. I’ve also been out of work for the past 12 months and nowhere near as fit as I used to be. This wasn’t going to be easy and quite possibly, disastrous.
The briefing was cheerful and helpful and gave me an opportunity to try and familiarise myself with the International track, as I’d only done the national circuit in the past. Darren made a quip about not falling off at Dunlop and gave me a wee grin… cheeky bugger!
Perish the thought! I was determined to take her handy, if nothing else.After the briefing Flash and I went down to the pits to tape up lights, remove mirrors and generally try and look cool whilst bricking it. Tyre pressures were dropped to 30psi front and back and I wound my fork settings up a notch for good measure. Before we knew it, we were called for our first circuit and I was glad to be on the tail of a marshal for the first lap, cos I hadn’t remembered a single part of the International track from the briefing.
The national track is still galvanised in my mind, mostly fond memories, apart from that almost imperceptable left hand kink, just outside Dunlop with which I became on painfully intimate terms, having slid some distance down it on my forehead. I had just enough time to inspect the tarmac from VERY close range on that occasion.
Once the yellow flags were lifted the marshall in front of me disappeared and I was on my own. Wobbly, hesitant and way out of my comfort zone, I found myself on completely the wrong side of the track coming into corners I was sure I’d never seen before. Pulling myself together, I reminded myself that the countdown markers were always on the opposite side to the direction of the corner and this helped a wee bit. To be honest, I couldn’t wait for the chequered flag. This wasn’t my idea of fun any more.
The chequered flag came after what seemed like an hour. I was sweating like a horse, getting just about every line wrong and petrified the R1 would decide enough was enough and spit me into oblivion at every twist of the throttle! To add to my displeasure, I completely missed the pit lane but managed to get off the track without making a complete arse of myself, down the other entrance to the pits. It didn’t do Flash’s nerves any good when I hadn’t appeared when he’d expected me too either. He was searching for me and I got a taste of how it felt when later in the day, he too disappeared for a wee while, having ridden into one of the garages at the end of the run. It’s another matter altogether when you’re on the track with someone who is very precious to you!
One reassuring sight, was our own Liam, who was marshalling at turn 2. I could almost feel his encouragement as he grinned every time I passed him. Cheers LHA!
The next couple of runs actually started to become a bit more fun. The Pirellis were warming up and getting nice and sticky, unlike the darn Dunlops I had crashed on two years ago. By the 3rd or 4th run, things were coming together. I did my best to get in behind someone I trusted and on this occasion, it was Flash. We’re used to riding miles and miles together and both developed very similar riding styles. This was just what I needed to start seeing my lines and gaining a bit of confidence. A little bit of competition didn’t do any harm either!
Then it was my turn to be out in front on my own, albeit for only a short time because half way round, Flash flew past me. I momentarily lost concentration but before long, I was in hot pursuit. All thoughts of hisides and lowsides went completely out the window as I entered my own little “zone”. The familiar rhythm of the track came back and the bike and I danced (as gracefully as a granny on an R1 can!), around the turns, as one. Such a wonderful feeling!
By lunch time I was utterly and completely knackered. It was hot as hell and dehydration and old age were taking their toll! A quick spin into the village for doughnuts and water seemed to do the trick but my legs felt like they were made of spaghetti!
Back we went after lunch and the circuits came smoother and quicker each time. Every time I came back to the pits I was grinning and each time I vowed it would be my last cos my poor legs were starting to feel like they weren’t mine! Flash and I, like two kids, spent a while admiring each other’s modified knee sliders which sported melted strips of plastic, like little wings. A couple of the lads commented on the sparks coming off the R1 and whilst my “jesus pegs” are a little shorter than they were, it turned out my knee sliders have wee magnesium studs which lit us up like a firework display. How cool is that!??
Our last circuit came round in no time. “Just once more” I said to myself. Then I remember that my crash had happened on one of the last circuits of the day too. Knowing how tired and hot I was, I said I’d take it easy and just bumble around. I should have known myself better! Hard on Flash’s heels, the red mist descended again and most of my good granny sense evaporated into the slipstream. Determined to get him back for his surprise pass earlier in the day, I saw my opportunity just after Dunlop, scooting past him just in time to brake heavily for the tight corner at turn 1. Hah!! Gotcha!
With the R1 purring like a big pussy cat and the hot tyres glued to the tarmac, I remembered why I loved my bike so much. Some one on a GSXR appeared in my peripheral vision but backed off as we entered Tarzan 1 & 2. I don’t think I’m particularly competitive but I obviously am cos I wound him on just that bit harder.
Flying into Dunlop for the very last time, (déjà vu!) I nearly counted my blessings too soon. Coming in far too hard and leaving the braking far too late, I felt the R1 lock up and fish tail. Remember Darren’s advice when hitting gravel, I resigned myself and wondered idly, in that split second if it was going to hurt much or make a mess of the R1. “Reduce your speed while you can” he had said and I kept on the brakes but not enough to lock up. Then a little voice somewhere deep in my subconsious said “if you stop braking, look around the corner and give it a teeny weeny bit of throttle, you’ll make it!”
Now bearing in mind this all happened in a split second, it’s remarkable just how much of a converstation one can have with oneself in such a short time! Looking at the few feet of tarmac I had left, and the amount of turn I needed to avoid the gravel, it seemed highly unlikely. That, combined with the fact that if I didn’t make it, I’d hit the rumble strip on the edge of the tarmac at a hopeless angle which would surely catapault me into oblivion, things weren’t looking great. But I though what the hell, I’ll give it a go. It took a LONG time to readjust my weight and my whole sense of purpose, from braking hard and bracing myself for a crash, to throwing “Louis” back down and powering on. That moment of imbalance between the two is heart stopping.
Round he went, like a clockwork mouse. As if to say “what’s all this fuss about anyway?”. You cannot imagine the size of the sigh of relief that escaped me as we tore down the straight to the sight of the chequered flag.
So all in all, a great day. A bloody triffic day! 150 miles of track with not a lorry or cylist in sight! Ok so I still can’t walk as my quads have completely seized up. Getting on and off the loo is a monumental trial and causes me much grief and the locals think I’m drunk cos I can’t walk without my knees buckling every couple of strides but was it worth it? Hell yeah! Will I do it again? Probably, even though I probably shouldn’t.
Thank you Flash Gordon, for taking me to Mondello again and having enough faith in me that you even risked having to do the housework for a few weeks if things didn’t go to plan! As long as I live, I don’t think I’ll have more fun than I have whilst sharing the tarmac with you.
Pics to follow once we get em!
This post has been edited by Kelpie: 13 July 2011 - 06:10 PM
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and best of luck on the 25th.
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