Monday, July 4, 2016

Round 2 2016 - The Descent into Mediocrity


Summary

A pointless and expensive crash in practice, and then mediocre results in the sprint races left me frustrated and wondering if it was all worth the effort.  But then I gave my head a shake...


Round 2 

Round two of the 2016 SOAR Series was held June 17 to 19 on the "Modified Track" configuration at Grand Bend.  This has never been my favourite layout, but last year it worked to my favour in the BOTT LW class because it uses the entire length of the back straight, and I had a horsepower advantage over most of my competitors.   I was curious to see if this would help me against the fast guys who showed up on SV650s in Round 1 and relegated me to also-ran status.

Weather conditions for the weekend were expected to be close to ideal with no precipitation in the forecast, but temperatures were going to be much higher than average for mid June.  Extreme heat always tends to bring more potential for accidents, as riders get overheated in their leathers and helmets and lose concentration on track.


Friday Practice

Steve and I were both able to make Friday practice again this round.  It was a pretty clean day all-in-all - there were a few crashes and breakdowns but I don't think they rolled the ambulance all day.  My best previous lap time on this layout had been a 57.8, and I had managed to equal that on the pre-season practice weekend this year.  By the third session on Friday I was turning 58.0 to 58.4 pretty much every time I had clear track, so I was happy with that.  No improvement from last year, but probably fast enough to still do something interesting in the sprint races.  

My only area of concern was in the fast sweepers (Turns 4 and 5).   On the right-hand Turn 5 in particular I wasn't using the whole track on exit, but I was afraid to get on the throttle harder because right at the apex I was hitting some kind of bump that unsettled the bike and sent it dancing sideways.  I tried monkeying with the suspension a bit but never found a solution.   

This was the "All Bike Weekend" at Grand Bend, which meant we had to share the pit area with some drag racers and also leave a huge section empty for some kind of Harley Show-and-Shine event Sunday.  That meant the entire SOAR crowd was squashed into an area about 50% of the normal size.  This is an annual event, so we know how to make it work - we just park all the trailers end-out from the fences (instead of long-ways), and also set up a third row of pits down the middle of the paddock. 
By the time we got the Prairie Dog Racing Luxury Living Quarters and Media Hospitality Unit out of storage, there wasn't much space left, so we ended up in the middle section.  

At this point, I need to introduce another character to this epic saga.  I choose not to name him, for reasons that will become obvious.  We will use an alias.  Let's call him "Stroker".  

Stroker arrived at the same time that we did, and ended up pitting right beside us.  I wasn't completely pleased with this, because Stroker and I have had issues in the past.  He rides this beautiful little 125-cc two-stroke GP-style bike, which weighs about 150 lbs.  It is no threat on the straights, but brakes on a dime and carries mad corner speed.  The problem is, his lines on that bike are nothing like those being followed by the rest of us.  Twice during practice in Round 1, I passed him on the straight only to have him cut right across my front wheel while I was still hard on the brakes entering the carousel.  Both times I had to stand my bike on its nose to avoid T-boning him.

I truly do not understand this behaviour.  A race is one thing, but in practice if someone gets by you it means, by definition, they are faster over a full lap distance.  Back off a tiny bit for a few corners, let them get some distance, then get back on it.  They won't be holding you up.  DO NOT under any circumstances re-pass them immediately, especially if you have to create a dangerous situation to do so!  

Anyway, during the rest of Round 1 I was too furious to talk to him about it; I doubted my ability to keep the conversation "constructive".  But pitting next to him in Round 2, the subject came up.  He was talking about how the corners were the only place he could pass anyone, because he was so outgunned on the straights. I saw my opportunity to broach the subject:

Me: You know Stroker, you should be a bit careful about that.  Sometimes when you are already on your big swoopy Moto3 line, other bikes are still hard on the brakes.  I don't know if you realize this, but twice in Round 1 you cut right across my bow with not a lot of room to spare entering the carousel and I had to stand it up and brake pretty hard to avoid hitting you.

Stroker: But that's how I have to ride, I can only pass in the corners.

Me: Maybe, but it's creating a danger.  I can pretty much guarantee you will have an accident if you keep doing that.



Saturday Practice

Can you see where this is going?  Here is what happened during the first (second?  I don't remember) practice session Saturday morning:



I apologize for what came out of my mouth there at the end.  Try to understand that the adrenaline is running a bit high after a crash.  I'm not proud of it.  I was still crazy mad when Ken MacAdam showed up with the crash cart.  I told him he might want to consider a restraining order when I got back to the pits.

Damage was pretty extensive.  About 3" were ground off the top of the right handlebar and throttle tube, brake lever guard gone, brake lever ruined, right foot peg unusable, plus of course a bent fairing stay, fairing all scratched to crap, exhaust can a bit crumpled but serviceable.  I figured my weekend was over, and was actually searching my soul for reasons not to push Stroker's pretty little bike off its stands in the pits and stomp on the fairing.

But then the inevitable happened.  While I was flailing around uselessly in the pits with steam coming out of my ears, Allen Pyburn, Glen McTavish (with his arm in a sling from his broken collarbone in round 1), and my brother Steve started looking over the bike and pretty quickly declared that they thought they could get it fixed in time for qualifying.  At first I was not having any of it, but they eventually convinced me.  I handed them my spare brake lever guard and a Chinese brake lever, and started walking up and down the pits looking for other bits.  My buddy no-not-that Bill Cosby came through with a handlebar tube, which Steve then drilled for the pin locations.  Glen got the brake lever installed, and Allen figured out what to do about the poor mangled Spiegler footpeg - he ended up mocking something up with the old, OEM, slippery-as-snot peg - not ideal, but somewhat functional.  We tried a couple of different options with the throttle tube, but ended up just shortening it to about 2/3 its normal length.  Again, not ideal but a workable compromise.

While all of this was going on, at some point Stroker peered around the corner of the trailer and asked, in a shaky voice, "Hugh, are you all right?".   I honestly don't remember the entirety of what I said to him, but I know it began with "I'm fine" and ended with the expression  "...a special kind of stupid."  Glen looked at him for a second, then looked back at the part of the bike he was working on, and said "Dude, too soon.  Just back away..."


Saturday Qualifying

I went out for my first qualifying race in the Battle of the Twins Heavyweight class with my partial throttle tube, slippery foot peg and off-centre fairing, not really knowing what to expect out of the bike.  So, I took it pretty quick through a couple of the corners on the sighting lap to see if anything bad would happen to me, but everything felt fine.  

As you can see in the video below, I actually gridded in the wrong position.  I was supposed to be in the middle of the first row of BOTT HW, beside Adam Golan on pole.  That was row six, but the row six cone was tipped over, which I took as a sign that they wanted us to leave an extra row gap to the Lost Era LW guys in front.  Everyone else followed my lead (??) and gridded one row back, leaving Adam alone on the front row.

This year I have both Adam Golan and Steve Mitchell to worry about, on their SV650s.   Adam is new to the class, but I don't know what has gotten into Steve this year - last season he didn't give me much trouble but this year he is much faster.  

Also, for Round 2, another SV650 showed up, ridden by Chris Murphy.  I haven't had a chance to meet Chris yet, but his bike looks pretty serious, with a completely after-market front end, including giant bad-ass radial-mount Brembo calipers.

Anyway, as the video shows, my start was kinda crappy and I got stuck behind Don Morris on his big powerful BMW again.  By the time I got past him, Steve, Adam and Chris were long gone, so fourth place for me.




I don't have any video from the BOTT LW qualifier, which is kind of a shame because it was my best race of the weekend.  I was starting third (outside of the front row) and actually got a great start for once.  I led the race for the first four laps, but then Adam made a nice, clean pass on me going into Turn 1 to start the last lap.  Steve then got by me with a bit of a sketchy, outside pass in the corner leading onto the back straight.  I chased him as hard as I could and discovered that I did, indeed, still have a bit more motor that he did - into the braking zone I was nearly alongside, but he braked later so I was behind again entering the carousel.  I left a gap to him approaching the dogleg, planning on using my corner speed through there to build momentum and pass him to the outside approaching the finish line.  This move takes a bit of commitment and courage because if the guy in front doesn't leave you any room you are going to end up on the grass.  Steve left me the space and I almost pulled it off; he maybe had half a wheel on me at the line.  Apparently the announcer Lindsay Thomson actually called me in second, but I knew that Steve had beat me.

The real excitement happened after the line.  Steve and I both had it pinned across the line of course, but some of the Lost Era bikes in front of us were already at trolling speed, having just finished their race.  I started braking to avoid running into them, but not too hard at first because I was conscious of the possibility that there might be someone directly behind me still going quickly.  Then one of the Lost Era bikes in barely-moving-Sunday-touring mode decided to steer  right up to the apex curbing of Turn 1, leaving me no space at all.  I grabbed a pile of brake and lifted the rear wheel way the heck off the ground, just managing to slow enough to avoid him.  I could just have easily tucked the front and gone down.


Saturday Endurance Race

There were a number of red flags during the endurance race, which I guess is to be expected for a three-hour event run in stifling heat.  One happened right off the  start, when Marc Laplante lost a negotiation with two or three other bikes all trying to get through turn one at the same time.  Another occurred when some object hit Lindsay Thomson in the throat on the straight, causing him to vomit in his helmet.

As for Team PDR, everything went tickety-boo, with clean rider changes and a tidy fuel stop.  We managed 128 laps, which put us fourth out of eight in the GTU class; second and third place each did 130 laps, so we are still in the hunt for sure.  Allen had a particularly good race, despite it being his first bit of riding all season - at the end of the weekend, Squids for Kids team principal Scott Forgie was remarking that Allen seemed to have found something over the winter.  High praise from the guy who owns GTU every season.

Here's a video of the fun LeMans-style start (I am the pilot), and Marc's unfortunate incident at Turn 1.



Sunday Sprint Races

My performance on Sunday was pretty lack-lustre.  I spent the morning practice sessions looking for more speed through Turns 1 and 5, and with later braking at the end of the straight, but it wasn't really coming together.  My crash the previous day still had me in a pissy mood, and I just wasn't feeling it.  Plus, it was hot as blazes and I was melting in the pits.

Here is the video of the BOTT HW final.  I only pulled a minor wheelie off the start, but rolled off the throttle too soon for Turn 1, letting Don by me (again!).  So that put me fifth behind Don and the three SVs (Chris, Steve and Adam).  I tried to get past Don entering Turn 1 on lap 2, but that didn't work out.  I eventually got him later that lap, with an inside pass in the last corner before the straight.  I went a bit deep on him and didn't leave him a lot of track, but there were no hard feelings afterwards.

The rest of the race was pretty uneventful, until the second last lap when the fastest riders in Lost Era LW class started coming by me.  I was tired and hot by that point and hadn't made up any ground on the BOTT HW leaders, so I just concentrated on keeping out of the way.  Fourth place.



In the interval between my two sprint races I fell into a bit of a funk.  I hadn't really enjoyed the HW race, running as hard as I could but still not being able to come up with anything for the leaders, and ending the race feeling overheated and tired.  The Saturday crash, my second in two rounds, was still weighing on me, making me ask if this nonsense really was worth the risk, especially considering that I wasn't having all that much fun at present.  I actually told my brother that I was thinking of not doing the LW race, and that I might just forget about sprint racing for the rest of the season.

Ha.  But then I realized I was just being a dick.  I mean honestly... Did I really have to win to have fun?  Was I really that proud?  Why was it so hard to accept that there was a bigger gorilla (or three) in the jungle this season?  Why should I let another rider's stupid mistake affect me so profoundly?   Was I hoping for a dull season where I could win races without improving in any way?  Or did I want to accept the challenge and see what I could accomplish, even with a funky cobbled-together bike with a banana peel for a footpeg?

So, I gave my head a shake and decided to just go and have at the LW race, without so much concern about the outcome.

In the Disney version of this story I would have won the the LW race or at least made the podium.  Nope.  I pretty much sucked, pulling two stupid wheelies off the line and dropping from third to sixth by Turn 1.  But at least I sucked with a good attitude, which has to be seen as progress.  I actually enjoyed the race quite a bit.

Here's the video.  The three SVs, Jordan Renshaw and Don were all ahead of me off the start, but I motored past Jordan on lap 1 and then passed Don at the end of lap 2.  Jordan eventually crashed out, causing Ewan Brown to run off the track, so I actually got to lap Ewan after he re-entered.  In the end I finished fourth, having lost sight of the leaders and feeling the need again to stay out of the way of the LE guys on the last few laps.


A few Sheri Manuel photos of me not sucking too bad:




With a Little Help from our Friends

To cap off what had been a less than perfect weekend, once we had put the PDR HQ trailer away and were just finishing up packing our stuff, my brother noticed that the little trailer he uses to tow the endurance bike had a completely flat tire.  I was actually already headed out the front gates when he phoned me to tell me the bad news.  It turned out that the rubber valve stem was cut, so there was no hope of patching it.  By this point the awards ceremony was nearly over and the place was pretty deserted.  We really didn't seem to have a lot of good options, stuck with a flat trailer tire late on a Sunday evening.  Ken McAdam graciously offered to take the bike to his place for us and bring it back for Round 3, but suggested we first speak to Steve Kinghorn.  His exact words: "Steve is the biggest pack rat I know.  If anyone will have a valve stem for you it will be him."

Not only did Steve have the part we needed, he and Ken made it a personal mission to install it for us, breaking the bead with a 2 x 4 and doing all that other MacGyver stuff that experienced, helpful people do when fueled by enough compassion and beer.


Steve spent about 10 min trying to set the bead with a 12-V compressor and ratchet strap - I think he was just trying to make a point - but eventually gave up and just used the big compressor over by the drag strip.

So, all things considered, not the most successful weekend of racing, but full of great (typical) examples of the type of camaraderie that makes this nutty sport possible.  People who fix your broken bike for you even against your will, or who give you parts from their spares to get you back up and running, or give freely of their time to get you out of a jam when your equipment lets you down, or even stand in the sun all weekend manning a marshal's station.

It's a really really cool thing we've got going at SOAR, and I'm grateful to be a part of it.

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