Nerves of Steal! (Rusty, Old, Broken Steal)
It was a week before Team Moto411.com's first race and I was nervous to say the least. Not that I really should have been, it wasn't even a real race. What I was about to participate in was a Clubsman Race—a race with no points, no prizes and no prestige. The Clubsman Races serve two main purposes: 1) they allow you to get used to riding competitively and 2) they allow the AFM to assess your skill level before they let you on the track in a more serious series.
I was most nervous because I have never ridden Infineon Raceway on anything but a pit-scooter. Tourist Trophy for the PlayStation 2 has a pretty accurate recreation, but a controller and a monitor can help only so much.
What's even cooler than Helimot leathers? A Helimot transponder case of course.
The Pre-Race-Weekend Track Day
To ease my first time racing/first time at the track worries, I signed up for a track day at Infineon the Friday before the Saturday AFM sessions. Not every AFM weekend is preceded by a track day, but in this case it was. Our good friends at Pacific Track Time (with whom I took my licensing course) set me up with a few sessions so I could get a feel for the track.
I find that, as an amateur, I am always far too tense the first time I get on the track and hence I exert huge amounts of effort to go rather slowly. As all my muscles fight against each other and the the bike, my riding is choppy, my performance is poor and I'm exhausted after a couple laps. This particular weekend it took me 6 sessions and the race to start feeling comfortable and fluid. The Infineon Raceway track is, in my opinion, quite fun and quite nice. Despite, or maybe due to the elevation changes and the lack of straightaways, I found the track very pleasant once I loosened up. However, if I didn't go the day before, race day would have been painful.
If you have natural skill and/or youth to spare, I could see this being a much smaller problem. But, if you merely dabble in motorcycle racing and your youngest days are starting to tick away, I suggest getting at least 15 laps in on the track before your three practice sessions on race day.
By the way, lugnut made me a couple seconds faster with a pen and some tape. I highly recommend it!
What is this, amateur hour? Yes, yes it is.
The Value of A Hotel/Motel—No Really!
Even though this track is only an hour or two away from the "Moto411.com racing garage," we decided a hotel close to the venue would be easiest on everyone especially considering we had a track day prior to the race. I had a fair amount of Hilton hotel points saved up from a job that required me to live in a Los Angeles Doubletree for a month (ugh!), so we used those to book a room at the Embassy Suites about 10 minutes from the track. Short of using points, usually lugnut and I find the cheapest motel we can—with some pretty funny/scary/disgusting results. The Embassy Suites, in all its mediocre glory, made us feel like kings in a castle compared to our usual accommodations. The real value of not getting up at 4am to go to the track is that, come race morning, you feel nice and rested.
Many riders camp at the track in tents or trailers and take advantage of Infineon Raceway's decent shower and bathroom accommodations. Given the sheer number of people at the track overnight, we staked our paddock claim for the next day and left the bike and tent—making the following morning even more leisurely. We did lock up the bike, but, to this day, a motorcycle paddock is one of the few sacred places left in our world—where everyone looks out for each other and bad apples are still rare... for now. That all might change as this sport becomes more mainstream. I hope it doesn't.
The real value of the hotel was the continental breakfast. It was a complete made-to-order breakfast bar! Omelets, pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, you name it and (if it was mainstream) they had it! The Moto411.com team ate well that morning. I'm not talking high quality, but if I had to choose between the hotel breakfast and a Denny's, I would choose the hotel breakfast—I know... that's not saying much.
Remember, the most important thing about your bike—wheel stripes!
Race Day Morning
The Saturday of the Clubsman Races consists of rotating practice sessions for all the racers and then the three Clubsman Races (light-, mid-, and heavy-weight) at the end of the day. All the real races are the following day, on Sunday. The morning was relaxed and went something like this:
Riders Meeting
Practice Session Group 1
Practice Session Group 2
Practice Session Group 3
Practice Session Group 4
Practice Session Group 5
Practice Session Group 6
Practice Session Group 1
Practice Session Group 2
Practice Session Group 3
Practice Session Group 4
Practice Session Group 5
Practice Session Group 6
Break for lunch
The afternoon was equally as predictable:
Practice Session Group 1
Practice Session Group 2
Practice Session Group 3
Practice Session Group 4
Practice Session Group 5
Practice Session Group 6
Practice Session Group 1
Practice Session Group 2
Practice Session Group 3
Practice Session Group 4
Practice Session Group 5
Practice Session Group 6
Mid-Weight Clubsman Race
Light-Weight Clubsman Race
Heavy-Weight Clubsman Race
Photoshop a Ducati 749 underneath me and win a free Big Pussy t-shirt!
You are placed in your practice session group by speed/times at the last event and, on the busiest race weekends, all Clubsman must be in group 1. If you start going faster, you can move up a group—but not as a Clubsman at a busy event.
Overall I had four practice sessions of about 5-6 laps each and then one 8 lap race. I felt I was getting smoother and more comfortable throughout the day and, even though I didn't get faster on the last practice session, I was much more loose and relaxed and did not fatigue as easily.
I spent most of my practice sessions following a Ducati 749 around the track. We were both equally slow and, during the later practice sessions I felt that, under braking, I could pass her—a young lady standing roughly 5' 3" with eye lashes too long to be real. In an earlier session, a rider dove deep inside both of us, passing me and hitting her. It bumped her wide, but she put her head back down and got right back on her line. I asked her about it later and she said something to the effect of "that's good practice for the race! It threw me off for a second, but it was no big deal." At that moment I had rethink my approach, find my male genitalia and get my ass somewhat more in gear.
Lugnut, with all his "championship winning [whining?] experience" had been telling me to get my ass in gear all along, and he was right. He had made two [other] key observations: 1) When I came in from practice, he could comfortably put his bare hands on my brake rotors and 2) he remarked that, I looked like I was on a Sunday ride. A picture I saw later (and which I will not be posting here) confirmed that, indeed, when everyone else was tucked down in their most aggressive racer form, I looked like I was pulling up to a stop sign. Also, yeah, I could use my brakes more often. Damn, that lugnut is good!
I'm easy to spot because my whole row was nice enough to move in front of me when the green flag dropped.
The Race
I was gridded 45 out of 54 (outside of row 10) for the race. There were three rows behind me and quite a few bikes in front of me so I decided to be a bigpuss for the first race and not go for any holeshot for the sake of me and everyone around me. My start wasn't what I wanted, even for a bigpuss, but we all eventually filed in line and the racing began.
Sponsorship money-shot! Now, if only I had any real sponsors.
My only goal was to finish, and not finish last. The entire "crew" agreed that I could not count DNFs as being behind me nor could I count riders who remounted after an incident and returned to the track. I had to pass at least one other rider. Also, it would be nice if I didn't get lapped. The short of it is that I did achieve my goal, but fate dealt a helpful hand.
After everyone had settled into the race, I found myself behind a familiar Ducati 749. I was pretty sure there was at least one other rider behind me, and that was confirmed when he passed me shortly thereafter. The rider that passed me, the Ducati 749 and I made up the tail end of the pack. And there we stayed, lapping for 3 or 4 laps—not making any time on each other, just following the track around and pausing ever so briefly at the frequent offs and yellow flags.
The rider that passed me towards the beginning of the race began to fade around lap 5 and the Ducati 749 was opening up a slight gap on us—it was time for me to make my pass and ensure that I didn't actually finish last. I came up beside him into eleven and got a better drive down the front straightaway, passing him right before start/finish—right at a waving yellow flag. Crap! I waved him back by and started setting him up again.
Half way through the next lap, the red flag came out and the race was over. An incident had left a bike laying on the track and, with 6 of 8 done, that was it. Although, I was only lapped by one rider, I finished last. Or had I? In all actuality, I completed my pass before the waving yellow and before the start/finish line. With only half the following lap complete, I could only hope my transponder crossed the line before his. It had! I was second to last! Success!
Am I not hot? When I was in my Indonesia, I was a gigolo!
Conclusion
That was totally worth it! It was the most fun I've had in ages. My goal for next time? I'm getting that Ducati 749 and hopefully one or two other riders. Lugnut figures if I actually use my brakes instead of coasting into corners like I was pulling up to a drive-through, it shouldn't be too hard—even for a monkey.
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