Realizing a Dream!
Just a warning: this is one looooong, drawn out post. Those of you not really interested in motorcycles probably won't find anything worth reading.
The Lead-Up
I don't know exactly when it occurred, but at some point several years ago I learned that there are organizations that rent race tracks and for a fee will allow anybody (well, almost anybody) to ride on the track. It was at that point that I knew I wanted to get my bike onto the track. To ride without worry of stupid cages (motorcyclist speak for cars) crossing into my lane or pulling out in front of me would be sublime. There would be no dogs or deer or slick diesel fuel spills or cops on the track. It would be the PERFECT riding environment to test and improve my skills. And it would be fun!
So last weekend I finally got the chance to fulfill my dream. Only now I want MORE! I think I know what if feels like for an addict to take that first hit of crack. It was better than I anticipated.
The lead-up to this blessed event was long and drawn out, but it kinda started when a former co-worker of mine, Chuck T., decided to start doing track days last year. I went with him to his first one and saw how much fun it really could be. I started scheming pretty much as soon as I got home. I would need leathers, new tires, and the bike would need a tune-up, not to mention the small-ish membership fee and the track day fee. It all added up to a noticeable sum, not something I could just slip by the CFO of our household. So I begged and I pleaded and she relented. And slowly but surely my dream started to become a reality.
I snagged some leathers on eBay for crazy cheap and when the snap for one of the cuffs was missing, I called the seller and they gave me some cash back...so for $185 I could now look like a power ranger!
I was really wanting all black leathers, but since I didn't have to spend $600 or more, I didn't care. Notice also the schnazzy new helmet. Its uber light weight so my weak neck can support it and my [scottish accent]"huge cranium" [scottish accent] at the same time (I hope y'all got that movie quote!).
I then signed up with Sportbike Track Time and secured a spot for June 13th at Barber Motorsports Park, a premier racetrack in the U.S. and the one I've really been itching to ride.
Then, I got some some nice sport tires for about 1/2 price when Pirelli decided to come out with a new-er version. Score!
Everything was coming together until I decided to ride the bike into town to pick up some parts to do a tune up. While at a NAPA store, my bike decided she had had enough and failed to start. The battery was dead. The nice kid at NAPA helped me jump start the bike and I rode it home and parked it. This was two weeks before my track-day. The following week was extremely hectic with church stuff. So the bike sat for a week before I had a chance to diagnose the issue. Turns out my VFR had suffered a burned stator and fried regulator/rectifier, 2 parts that make up the bulk of the charging system. No wonder my battery was dead. Okay, no biggie...I'll just order the parts. Only none of the OEM part houses could guarantee delivery by Friday. I start to freak a little and Angela jumps in to the rescue and found a non-OEM parts supplier that could get me the necessary stuff by Wed. Awesome!
Wednesday comes, the parts arrive, I put 'em in and...I'm still not getting the necessary voltage to the battery! Now I really freak out. I get online and do some research and come up with a possible solution that involves adding additional wiring to the bike. I took Thursday afternoon off as a last ditch effort to get the VFR running in time. I called my dad and he comes to the rescue to help with the wiring and stays until pretty late. My neighbor down the street walks over and he stays until 12:30 trying to help me get everything done. We try to crank the bike up and she's dead...won't even start. I felt like I had just been kicked in the chest by a 3 dollar mule. The week had been turned into one hellacious nightmare with nothing going as planned. We decided to quit for the night.
I had already decided to take all of Friday off as well. So early Friday morning I get back out in the garage and start going through the entire starting system. Apparently, during my re-wiring experiment, I had shorted a wire and that popped a mini-fuse in the starter circuit. Once I found the fuse and replaced it, the bike fired right up. But much to my dismay, I was still not getting the necessary voltage at the battery.
At this point I was resigned to the fact that I would not be riding my VFR on the track this time. But all was not lost. I was determined to finish my nightmare-ish week off on a high note. So I did the only thing any sane motorcyclist would do...I decided to take Angela's bike to the track.
Angela can see the future. I'm convinced off it. Earlier in the week, she had suggested I just take her bike and worry about mine later. She could see how stressed I was. But I'm stubborn and worked like a dog to get my bike running properly. Anyway, half an hour later and her bike is prepped for the track--mirrors removed, lights disconnected and taped up--that's it. She's ready.
That afternoon Chuck arrived with his enclosed trailer and picked up the blue SV650 and associated track paraphernalia and headed off to Birmingham. I then turned my attention to packing up the family, loading the van and heading out to B'ham...via Starkville. Izzy would be staying with my parents for the weekend to ease the load on Angela. We finally get on the road, dropped Izzy off and pointed the van east towards Alabama.
June 13th Arrives!!
Initially I thought I would have trouble sleeping the night before the track day...but the week had been so taxing that I fell right to sleep and didn't move an inch until the alarm went off at 6:30. After a quick bite to eat, we checked out and headed to the track, arriving at the pits at 7:30. We pulled up next to Chuck and his wife in the pouring rain. Perhaps my nightmare was not quite over.
After registering and getting the bike through tech inspection it was time for the riders meeting. I'm guessing there were 85-100 riders in attendance in three groups-novice, intermediate and advanced. We were informed that radar indicated that a couple bands of rain would be passing through quickly but that we couldn't go out as long as it was lightning...which it was (remember, this is a dream turned nightmare).
After a while of waiting around we heard the call for intermediates to hit the track...which meant novice riders report to the class room for some instruction. It was still raining but the lightning had moved on. The novice class was broken down into sub groups of 5-7 riders headed up by an instructor. My instructor was Jim Calandro, president of the US Desmo Club. He seemed very knowledgable and willing do dish out whatever help we required.
It seemed like it took an eternity but the novice group was finally able to get out on the track. The first session was to be run at a slow speed , <50 mph, to get oriented with the track and to learn the correct lines. It was still raining but had lightened up to some extent. Unfortunately, Angela's SV650 has no fairing to shield me from the rain, so I got soaked. But I didn't care. I was on a race track, on a motorcycle, and I was not going to let a few Hydrogen and Oxygen atoms stop me from having a good time! I think we tip-toed around the track for three laps before it was time to come in for another classroom session. The morning went by all too quickly as we basically went from the track to the class room and back to the track. Each session allowed us to go a bit faster and I was having a blast. There were a few pucker moments when I got ham fisted with my down-shifts which would cause the back wheel to momentarily lock up. There was also one instance when the rear spun up while exiting the kink on the back straight. I mentioned it to Chuck afterwards, and he said his instructor had warned him about that spot. So, I guess I wasn't the only one to have experienced that issue.
By 1 pm, the skies had started clearing and the track was starting to dry out. That first session after lunch was when I began to get more comfortable on the track. Even though I had seen the track from many different vantage points as a spectator it still took me pretty much all morning to really get a feel for which way the track twists, turns, dips and dives. There are some blind turns that can be a little un-nerving because you can't see them until it is too late. You have to set up and start turning in for the corner before you even see it! The track was developing a dry line and I began to push a bit harder, touching down a peg or scraping a boot in a few corners all the while laughing along with the little SV650 which seemed to thrive on the thrill as much as I. Together we flowed around the track, arching into each corner and then launching out of them like an angry bull. At some point early in the afternoon, I passed Chuck and laughed in my helmet. He was probably laughing too. While this wasn't a race by any means, there was some friendly competition going on between us. We joked about it when we got back in the pits.
Later, I asked my instructor to follow me around for a couple laps so that he could critique my form. By this point the track was completely dry and we were really ripping it up! I don't think I stopped grinning the entire time. I followed my instructor for two laps. He then followed me for two laps. I thought I was hauling tale when came out of nowhere and passed me like I was standing still. Dang it! I laughed when he blew by me. I made a mental note to get him in the next session.
I got some great feedback from Jim after that session. He said I looked smooth, relaxed and confident and that he had to work his air cooled Ducati pretty hard to keep up with me. Coming from a guy with racing experience and 7 years of being an instructor, that meant a lot and really made me feel good. I had really wanted to get my knee down at some point, but Jim pointed out that it was most likely the high handlebars and low footpegs on the SV that were keeping me from getting my knee to slide along the tarmac in the corners. I'm short, too, so that doesn't help matters either.
The novice riders lined up for the last session of the day with the sun cooking everybody in their helmets and leathers. The instructors headed out first to get some quick laps in. As I came around turn 4 for the second time, I saw a corner worker waving a red flag. I raised my arm to aknowledge that I had seen the flag and crested the hill to see an instructor lying motionless on the track, his bike laying on its side off in the grass. It felt really spooky to see somebody laying there without moving. We exited the track and lined back up in the hot pit only to be informed that the final session had been cancelled. Ambulances were attending to the fallen rider and there would not be time to resume the session. I learned later that the rider had been knocked unconscious and had broken a couple ribs.
I returned to the pits hot and tired and happy and relieved and hungry and hooked. I sorta half jokingly half seriously mentioned that maybe we could sign up for the Sunday trackday too. Nobody seemed to give the suggestion any weight and I knew that we needed to head back home to rescue my parents from Izzy.
So, will I do another trackday? The answer is a resounding "Heck yeah!" I had a huge time even with the rain and lightning in the morning. I learned a ton too. And that was my main goal from the start.
A HUGE, MASSIVE thanks goes out to Angela who put up with a lot the week prior. She has been very supportive and understanding throughout this entire ordeal. Also, thanks to Mom and Dad for watching Izzy on short notice and Dad, thanks for coming to help work on the bike. And thanks to Chuck for hauling my bike and letting me pit with him.
And now for some pictures!! (For some reason, the pictures are not posting correctly. Just click on 'em and you'll get to see the full picture at Photobucket.)
Riding on a track for the first time, in the rain, is a little unnerving.
Corners are where it's at.
Chuck in action.
During the last session.
The Lead-Up
I don't know exactly when it occurred, but at some point several years ago I learned that there are organizations that rent race tracks and for a fee will allow anybody (well, almost anybody) to ride on the track. It was at that point that I knew I wanted to get my bike onto the track. To ride without worry of stupid cages (motorcyclist speak for cars) crossing into my lane or pulling out in front of me would be sublime. There would be no dogs or deer or slick diesel fuel spills or cops on the track. It would be the PERFECT riding environment to test and improve my skills. And it would be fun!
So last weekend I finally got the chance to fulfill my dream. Only now I want MORE! I think I know what if feels like for an addict to take that first hit of crack. It was better than I anticipated.
The lead-up to this blessed event was long and drawn out, but it kinda started when a former co-worker of mine, Chuck T., decided to start doing track days last year. I went with him to his first one and saw how much fun it really could be. I started scheming pretty much as soon as I got home. I would need leathers, new tires, and the bike would need a tune-up, not to mention the small-ish membership fee and the track day fee. It all added up to a noticeable sum, not something I could just slip by the CFO of our household. So I begged and I pleaded and she relented. And slowly but surely my dream started to become a reality.
I snagged some leathers on eBay for crazy cheap and when the snap for one of the cuffs was missing, I called the seller and they gave me some cash back...so for $185 I could now look like a power ranger!
I was really wanting all black leathers, but since I didn't have to spend $600 or more, I didn't care. Notice also the schnazzy new helmet. Its uber light weight so my weak neck can support it and my [scottish accent]"huge cranium" [scottish accent] at the same time (I hope y'all got that movie quote!).
I then signed up with Sportbike Track Time and secured a spot for June 13th at Barber Motorsports Park, a premier racetrack in the U.S. and the one I've really been itching to ride.
Then, I got some some nice sport tires for about 1/2 price when Pirelli decided to come out with a new-er version. Score!
Everything was coming together until I decided to ride the bike into town to pick up some parts to do a tune up. While at a NAPA store, my bike decided she had had enough and failed to start. The battery was dead. The nice kid at NAPA helped me jump start the bike and I rode it home and parked it. This was two weeks before my track-day. The following week was extremely hectic with church stuff. So the bike sat for a week before I had a chance to diagnose the issue. Turns out my VFR had suffered a burned stator and fried regulator/rectifier, 2 parts that make up the bulk of the charging system. No wonder my battery was dead. Okay, no biggie...I'll just order the parts. Only none of the OEM part houses could guarantee delivery by Friday. I start to freak a little and Angela jumps in to the rescue and found a non-OEM parts supplier that could get me the necessary stuff by Wed. Awesome!
Wednesday comes, the parts arrive, I put 'em in and...I'm still not getting the necessary voltage to the battery! Now I really freak out. I get online and do some research and come up with a possible solution that involves adding additional wiring to the bike. I took Thursday afternoon off as a last ditch effort to get the VFR running in time. I called my dad and he comes to the rescue to help with the wiring and stays until pretty late. My neighbor down the street walks over and he stays until 12:30 trying to help me get everything done. We try to crank the bike up and she's dead...won't even start. I felt like I had just been kicked in the chest by a 3 dollar mule. The week had been turned into one hellacious nightmare with nothing going as planned. We decided to quit for the night.
I had already decided to take all of Friday off as well. So early Friday morning I get back out in the garage and start going through the entire starting system. Apparently, during my re-wiring experiment, I had shorted a wire and that popped a mini-fuse in the starter circuit. Once I found the fuse and replaced it, the bike fired right up. But much to my dismay, I was still not getting the necessary voltage at the battery.
At this point I was resigned to the fact that I would not be riding my VFR on the track this time. But all was not lost. I was determined to finish my nightmare-ish week off on a high note. So I did the only thing any sane motorcyclist would do...I decided to take Angela's bike to the track.
Angela can see the future. I'm convinced off it. Earlier in the week, she had suggested I just take her bike and worry about mine later. She could see how stressed I was. But I'm stubborn and worked like a dog to get my bike running properly. Anyway, half an hour later and her bike is prepped for the track--mirrors removed, lights disconnected and taped up--that's it. She's ready.
That afternoon Chuck arrived with his enclosed trailer and picked up the blue SV650 and associated track paraphernalia and headed off to Birmingham. I then turned my attention to packing up the family, loading the van and heading out to B'ham...via Starkville. Izzy would be staying with my parents for the weekend to ease the load on Angela. We finally get on the road, dropped Izzy off and pointed the van east towards Alabama.
June 13th Arrives!!
Initially I thought I would have trouble sleeping the night before the track day...but the week had been so taxing that I fell right to sleep and didn't move an inch until the alarm went off at 6:30. After a quick bite to eat, we checked out and headed to the track, arriving at the pits at 7:30. We pulled up next to Chuck and his wife in the pouring rain. Perhaps my nightmare was not quite over.
After registering and getting the bike through tech inspection it was time for the riders meeting. I'm guessing there were 85-100 riders in attendance in three groups-novice, intermediate and advanced. We were informed that radar indicated that a couple bands of rain would be passing through quickly but that we couldn't go out as long as it was lightning...which it was (remember, this is a dream turned nightmare).
After a while of waiting around we heard the call for intermediates to hit the track...which meant novice riders report to the class room for some instruction. It was still raining but the lightning had moved on. The novice class was broken down into sub groups of 5-7 riders headed up by an instructor. My instructor was Jim Calandro, president of the US Desmo Club. He seemed very knowledgable and willing do dish out whatever help we required.
It seemed like it took an eternity but the novice group was finally able to get out on the track. The first session was to be run at a slow speed , <50 mph, to get oriented with the track and to learn the correct lines. It was still raining but had lightened up to some extent. Unfortunately, Angela's SV650 has no fairing to shield me from the rain, so I got soaked. But I didn't care. I was on a race track, on a motorcycle, and I was not going to let a few Hydrogen and Oxygen atoms stop me from having a good time! I think we tip-toed around the track for three laps before it was time to come in for another classroom session. The morning went by all too quickly as we basically went from the track to the class room and back to the track. Each session allowed us to go a bit faster and I was having a blast. There were a few pucker moments when I got ham fisted with my down-shifts which would cause the back wheel to momentarily lock up. There was also one instance when the rear spun up while exiting the kink on the back straight. I mentioned it to Chuck afterwards, and he said his instructor had warned him about that spot. So, I guess I wasn't the only one to have experienced that issue.
By 1 pm, the skies had started clearing and the track was starting to dry out. That first session after lunch was when I began to get more comfortable on the track. Even though I had seen the track from many different vantage points as a spectator it still took me pretty much all morning to really get a feel for which way the track twists, turns, dips and dives. There are some blind turns that can be a little un-nerving because you can't see them until it is too late. You have to set up and start turning in for the corner before you even see it! The track was developing a dry line and I began to push a bit harder, touching down a peg or scraping a boot in a few corners all the while laughing along with the little SV650 which seemed to thrive on the thrill as much as I. Together we flowed around the track, arching into each corner and then launching out of them like an angry bull. At some point early in the afternoon, I passed Chuck and laughed in my helmet. He was probably laughing too. While this wasn't a race by any means, there was some friendly competition going on between us. We joked about it when we got back in the pits.
Later, I asked my instructor to follow me around for a couple laps so that he could critique my form. By this point the track was completely dry and we were really ripping it up! I don't think I stopped grinning the entire time. I followed my instructor for two laps. He then followed me for two laps. I thought I was hauling tale when came out of nowhere and passed me like I was standing still. Dang it! I laughed when he blew by me. I made a mental note to get him in the next session.
I got some great feedback from Jim after that session. He said I looked smooth, relaxed and confident and that he had to work his air cooled Ducati pretty hard to keep up with me. Coming from a guy with racing experience and 7 years of being an instructor, that meant a lot and really made me feel good. I had really wanted to get my knee down at some point, but Jim pointed out that it was most likely the high handlebars and low footpegs on the SV that were keeping me from getting my knee to slide along the tarmac in the corners. I'm short, too, so that doesn't help matters either.
The novice riders lined up for the last session of the day with the sun cooking everybody in their helmets and leathers. The instructors headed out first to get some quick laps in. As I came around turn 4 for the second time, I saw a corner worker waving a red flag. I raised my arm to aknowledge that I had seen the flag and crested the hill to see an instructor lying motionless on the track, his bike laying on its side off in the grass. It felt really spooky to see somebody laying there without moving. We exited the track and lined back up in the hot pit only to be informed that the final session had been cancelled. Ambulances were attending to the fallen rider and there would not be time to resume the session. I learned later that the rider had been knocked unconscious and had broken a couple ribs.
I returned to the pits hot and tired and happy and relieved and hungry and hooked. I sorta half jokingly half seriously mentioned that maybe we could sign up for the Sunday trackday too. Nobody seemed to give the suggestion any weight and I knew that we needed to head back home to rescue my parents from Izzy.
So, will I do another trackday? The answer is a resounding "Heck yeah!" I had a huge time even with the rain and lightning in the morning. I learned a ton too. And that was my main goal from the start.
A HUGE, MASSIVE thanks goes out to Angela who put up with a lot the week prior. She has been very supportive and understanding throughout this entire ordeal. Also, thanks to Mom and Dad for watching Izzy on short notice and Dad, thanks for coming to help work on the bike. And thanks to Chuck for hauling my bike and letting me pit with him.
And now for some pictures!! (For some reason, the pictures are not posting correctly. Just click on 'em and you'll get to see the full picture at Photobucket.)
Riding on a track for the first time, in the rain, is a little unnerving.
Corners are where it's at.
Chuck in action.
During the last session.
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