I Need Another License?
Yes you do! At first, the race licensing process seems like a rather inconvenient barrier to entry. It costs money, it eats up a day of your valuable time and, once you're done, you might find yourself thinking: "I don't think I actually learned anything today that I couldn't have just read in the rules, and my track day money could have been more usefully spent on one-on-one instruction." In fact, the licensing process might be enough of a hassle that you'll skip racing again this year. And that's exactly (well, errr, partially) what it is: a barrier to entry for casual wannabes.
Imagine if every yahoo that got a bug up his boot to go racing showed up at the next race, papers and check in hand, and was allowed on the track to try and qualify. Safety issues certainly come to mind and don't get me started about what else would end up horribly wrong with the sport. The licensing process is incredibly important to a) ensure everyone is starting with the same, although very basic knowledge of racing protocol (you may find this shocking, but there are people who never read through the rules if they don't have to), b) demonstrate that you can ride a motorcycle well enough to keep up with Noriyuki Haga on one of his warm-down laps, c) observe if you can conduct yourself appropriately both on and off the track and, d) make sure you're not going racing as result of some drunken party bet gone horribly awry. In other words, this process forces you to think twice or even three times about what you're getting into.
Putting The Process In Motion
Getting licensed is actually pretty easy once you look into it. It's even easier if you've raced with other recognized organizations in other regions or countries. If it has been less than five years since you've raced with a recognized organization, you don't have to attend any new racer courses. However, for new racers, I've outlined "five simple steps" below for getting into AFM racing.
First: download your application here. Now read it! The entire thing!
Second: if you are new to road racing, read this.
Third: in case you didn't see this when reading the link from the second step, sign up for New Racer School (NRS) at an AFM-approved provider. I went with Pacific Track Time because I'm already familiar and comfortable with the folks who run it. I suggest that, if you have been to track days at one of the NRS providers below, you choose the one with which you are most at ease—this will make you much less anxious the day of. Feel free to contact them before your NRS and ask them what to expect and see if they have any pointers.
Pacific Track Time 530.223.0622
Keigwins @ The Track 650.969.5609
Zoom Zoom Track Days 888.929.9666
Fourth: go back to the second step and read through all the links and documentation the AFM provides before your NRS!
Fifth: prep your bike for racing. Download these two documents (2007 AFM Rulebook, AFM Tech Inspection Sheet) and get your bike as close as you can to race-ready. The NRS only requires that your bike be track day ready (if you haven't been to at least one track day, I might suggest you not go racing quite yet), but prepping your bike to race spec is an important learning experience that provides a better perspective of the effort it takes to go racing.
Optional Step: read all the rules. I know it's 84 pages, but for our sake, at least skim it.
The Day Of
My NRS school was held at Thunderhill Raceway Park in Willows, California—a not-so-distant 175 miles from home base. However, in order to get there in time for bike tech and the rider meeting, we had to rise at a painful 4am. Luckily I had lugnut to drive the Moto411.com/Big Pussy/Bog Bros/Amsoil rig as I nursed a Red Bull and tried to sleep (hmmm, that just doesn't sound right). In hindsight, the thought of staying in a cheap motel the night before began to look really good to us. Next time we wont be so cheap.
Fortunately, we were already familiar with Thunderhill from a previous outing. So, despite our tiredness, we felt relatively comfortable when we arrived. Unfortunately, we didn't spend that much time on the track during the previous track day and were by no means up to full speed. Regardless, knowing the track was a huge help.
We rolled in at about 7:15am and got one of the last spots under the giant metal canopy. There were already many "camps" set up outside of the permanent structure and, if any one of them had decided to use said structure, we would have been SOL considering we left our pop-up at home (i.e., always bring your pop-up just in case). At that point, it seemed that luck was with us that day.
Considering the bike was 98% race-ready, we breezed through sign-in and tech and had time to get everything unloaded and ready before the riders meeting. Well, I guess lugnut unloaded everything and let me bask in my "rider's glory" however ridiculous that prospect seemed to me.
A note of clarification here, most track day companies offering NRS certification combine their NRS with a normal track day (otherwise it would be prohibitively expensive) and you must abide by all of the track day rules in addition to the NRS rules as laid out by the AFM representatives present at the track. Hence, you must go through all of the track day processes before you get down to NRS business.
Moto411 Race Bike: ready for licensing!
After we arrived, signed in, got teched, and attended the rider meeting, our NRS classroom session began at 9am. Many of the attendees were clearly ansty. While the rest of the track day goers went out to hit the circuit, we were stuck in the classroom. Remembering why we were here allowed us to keep our focus despite the distraction. The classroom session takes about 2 hours and covers only the most basic rules and protocols. At the end of the classroom session, you must pass a test of roughly 25-30 questions. If you don't pass this test, they should take away your license to breed much less race. Regardless, I'm glad they have some sort of test before they let people loose in the pits and on the track.
After the classroom session, they give you an orange belt to wear the remainder of the day, split you up into groups of three or four, assign you to an evaluator and get you out on the track.
The Orange Belt
Before I go any further, let's talk about the orange belt. First, I'm not the fittest of all people and wearing a bright orange belt around the part of my body with the largest circumference proved most unflattering. Second, that orange belt is on you because your behavior is being assessed for the remainder of the day—all your behavior. Even after your track evaluator signs off on your track skills, you are given the rest of the day to fail—both on and off the track. Break the pit speed limit—fail. Fall over on your bike anywhere—fail. Get in an argument with someone in the pits—fail. I didn't anticipate doing anything "common sense stupid," but things can happen and wearing that orange belt reminded me off that fact every time I took a breath.
On-Track Evaluation
The actual on-track evaluation was pretty simple. During one of the track day's "fast group" sessions, the evaluator leads the group around the track once before the first licensee takes the lead for a lap. Then, the next in line takes the lead for the subsequent lap, etc. The point is not to go as fast as you can (in fact, you're told specifically not to do so), the point is to keep the group together so the evaluator can assess a rider's technical skill and ability. Given that, the pace was comfortable even for me. If everything goes well and without incident, you're back in within 5-6 laps. The Evaluator will come talk to you, let you know whether you passed or failed and, if they're nice, offer some pointers. I found the last part especially helpful. My evaluator easily singled out my weakness (staying on some kind of consistent line) and gave me some helpful tips. He then stuck around to answer my endless string of questions and worked with me to help me improve.
Oh The Humanity!
So, that was it right? I passed the paper test and I passed the on-track evaluation. The only thing left to do was wait until the end of the day for the mandatory practice starts. Now we could just sit in our chairs for 2 hours and we'd be set. Well, I just paid for a track day and it was only 2pm. But, if we tried to get in more track time, there was the chance something could go horribly wrong. Any self-respecting rider knows what the right answer is—get back out on the track dammit!
You have to continue wearing the orange belt as a reminder not to do doing anything too foolish and that in and of itself was nerve-racking. Regardless, I needed the track time. So there I was, back on the track, getting faster in each corner on every lap. Although I was improving, there were plenty of faster bikes out there; each one passing me at predictable, if not down right courteous parts of the track. For example, coming down the hill on the back part of Thunder Hill is one of my favorite places to pass slower riders. Coming down the hill from 9 to 10 lets build up your speed, even on a 600, and most track day riders brake far too early for 10—which, although you're coming downhill into it, is on-camber and you can carry all sorts of speed and "creative" lines. All of this makes it easy to pass slower riders without spooking them and that's exactly where a particularly fast Buell passed me. Given that one of my weaknesses is my race line, I seem to speed up when following faster riders (at least until I lose sight of them) and through 10 and into 11 I was right on his ass. Well, the torquey Buell laid the throttle on a little too thick exiting tight turn 11 and low-sided mere inches in from of me. For a split second, I watched the rider and bike scrape along the ground—clearly okay minus some scrapes and sparks—before I realized I should probably be watching the track. I snapped my eyes back and luckily steered around the wreck. This was perhaps my best lesson of the day.
The rest of my laps that day were thankfully uneventful and, when I pulled in after my last couple laps, I felt relieved despite the orange belt still being around my waist. I was looking forward to the practice starts and heading home with my license.
Practice Starts
The practice starts were incredibly fun, but they certainly weren't thrilling. The entire track day, 50 bikes or so, lined up on the start/finish four bikes wide to practice our 2- and 1-minute board procedures. Given there was no prize and no winners, everyone but the front two rows had to keep it toned down to avoid any incidents. The race was only to the first corner and everyone had to form a single-file line before the apex to avoid confrontation (and being thrown off the track or, in the case of NRS riders, failed). I was about halfway back in the pack and my goal was to gain at least one row per start while being controlled and courteous. I did make up about a row or more per start, but never really got to see what the old F4i could do considering my mid-pack position.
Conclusion
How fun was that? What a great day. I wasn't on the track as much as I would prefer and any day starting at 4am is too long, but man did it feel good going home with some sense of accomplishment. If you're a track day regular, I recommend the experience of getting licensed if only for bragging rights (but only to those who haven't been through the experience and don't know how easy it is). I know this isn't first grade, but getting some sort of certificate still feels good no matter how old you are.
Yup, definitely a novice!
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