November 17, Fastrack Friday
You know the saying: "There are those who have crashed and there are those who haven't crashed...yet. I was in the latter category until today (with regards to the track, that is; I have lost it on the streets before). The irony is that last month after Chris crashed on cold, new tires, we decided to invest in tire warmers to minimize the risk. I was out in my first lap late in the morning, taking it easy. The sun was out and the weather couldn't have been more perfect. I was going through turn four and just casually pointing for the apex when the front end tucked and I was slammed onto my right side. There was no surreal confusion about what was going on. I knew I had lowsided and thought "Fuck!" Didn't seem fair to me that I had crashed when I wasn't even trying. Somehow I rolled over onto my stomach and a series of thoughts went through my head during the long belly-down slide. Here are the thoughts in order:
- Pop goes the cherry! I'm having my first crash.
- Nobody is behind me and target fixating. Good.
- My arms are in front of me and I'm flying like Superman in reverse. This is really interesting.
- I've been sliding for a while now.
- The bike is on my leg. I hope it's not caught on the frame because when we hit the dirt I think it might get snapped.
- Man, the bike is LOUD when it's dragging on the ground!
- I've been sliding for a real long while now.
- Man, the bike is still LOUD. Grind! Grind! Grind!
- Here's the dirt, and there goes the bike.
- (After hopping to my feet) The eagle has landed! Turn off the ignition before the bike catches on fire and explodes! (I run over and turn off the ignition)
- Run like hell! (Off I got down into the ravine)
- (Sitting on my ass in the ditch) Hey, this is where Ben crashed when he "guest raced" the AMA round back in 2000! Isn't this a romantic coincidence!
I knew Chris would see the bike and worry about me. He goes by and kind of waves and I give him two big thumbs up to let him know I'm ok. The crash truck doesn't take long to get to me, but because the bike is too close to the track, we wait for the rotation to end. Seeing how the rotation just started, it's a long wait. The bike isn't dangerously close to the track so red flagging the session isn't imperative. The corner worker gets a good workout waving the yellow flag for the entire session. I watch the riders go by over and over again. I'm thinking, "One wrong move and we're having coffee down here together, buddy."
The crash truck driver tells me that he had just picked up a guy from the same spot in the previous session. We sit there wondering if perhaps there was something on the track. After the session finally ends we take a quick look on the track but see no concrete evidence of oil or anything else. Still, that doesn't mean there wasn't something sinister on the track. Could be that its two victims had nicely cleaned it up when their leathers dragged over it. Speaking about leathers, my Z's leathers held up beautiful and only have a few scuff marks on it. My Held gloves also protect my hands even though a seam had totally blown open in the right hand.
When I get in, Chris is already dressed and waiting for me. He had pulled in immediately after he saw that I had crashed. This, if you recall, is in contrast to last month when Chris crashed and I stayed out for the entire session instead of coming in. The only thing I can say in my defense is that I'm not a mechanic and there's nothing I could've done for him if I was in the pits (please, no lectures about emotional support; there wasn't blood coming out of his crevices, so he really looked fine). Also, I had expected Chris to keep riding since I was fine. But this is what happens when you marry them young; you can train them to be mindlessly and slavishly devoted!
Damage report: Rider - none. Bike - bent rearset, mangled throttle tube, and exceptional cosmetic disfiguring of right fairing. Chris fixes the broken parts and I'm back out in the afternoon. Before the crash I was doing 36s and 37s, after the crash I'm loitering in the 40s. I don't particularly feel disturbed by the crash, but I can tell there's no initiative to really try.
November 17, Race Practice
The day after my crash I am fine. There isn't even soreness. I think that's because I was born in the year of the rabbit. Rabbits by nature are kind of dopey, and spend all their energy twitching their noses so they can breathe. This leaves little left over to feel pain.
November 18, Race Day
The crash is two days behind me and everything seems ok. We miss the first practice session of the morning because we had to remove the gas tank for the radiator inspection in tech. I'm still lightly unmotivated so I don't mind missing the first session.
Our Aprilia Challenge race is second; this is the earliest race I've ever had in the schedule. We're all gridded up and when the starter drops the flag, the fire is back - just like that. During the entire race I dice it up with two other racers. Although they end up besting me, I turn in my best lap time to date: 1.35.44, with all my times in the 35s and 36s. It's clear that what happened yesterday or the day before that or the day before that is irrelevant; when it's time to race, it's time to race. I know this is kind of easy for me to say since I walked away from my crash. I'm not sure how zealous I'd be if I were returning to the track after two months of rehab...probably not as fiesty.
The 550 Superbike race was ok. I forgot to turn on my lap timer so I don't know how I did. I increased the front-end rebound damping before the race and it seemed to make the bike a little worse so I slowed down a touch during the race. I probably should've messed with this during practice, but I thought I would just take a chance and see if it would help with the pogoing I was suffering through turn 1. It's not like I'm fighting for a title. I'm just another hack goofing off at the track once a month. Before I can get any faster I really need to sort out my suspension issues. If any suspension studs out there have advice, watch me go through turn 1 next month and tell me what the hell is wrong.
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NOVEMBER PIX
Pix of ugly-fied bike to come...
OCTOBER PIX
the most comfy posi-
tion on this bike...
...but this works
a little better
our new trailer lets
us haul more junk
the sidecar folks were
back in town
lazy pit crew
on another break
montana pals drive
22 hours again
track trantula seeks
warm dainese
the "streets of willow"
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