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How track day made me a better rider… By Fred Henning Fall, 1999 This constitutes my
miscellaneous notes about the Track, the Track Bike, and Track Bike Month (TBM)... For those of you that
might not enjoy our CO-HSTA email
list, you’ve missed one of the most
entertaining months in motorcycling courtesy myself, Your State Director Brian, Terry
“the webmaster” McCormack, Hunt Spear, Greg Martin, and a cast of thousands
(I’m not forgetting you, you just haven’t paid me yet…). I have cobbled together a
group of ramblings here about what I’ve learned and what I’ve done and what
I would do again… To start with, it should be
known that in my experience, motorcyclists are very calm, deliberate folk who
never do anything on a whim or on impulse…And I also have a very nice beach
property in New Mexico if anyone is interested.
After spending a few hours watching friends out playing on an open track
day, my friend and fellow debt-inducer Brian Hopkins says to me, “hey, we have
that 84 Interceptor in the garage, and it’s already set up to race.
It would cost us next-to nothing to get it set up as a track bike, and we
could see how fun it is.” First
Lesson: NEVER EVER think that the
phrase “Track Bike” and the word “Inexpensive” can be uttered in the
same breath. If you do, you need to
sign over all of your pay-checks to me, because I will be just as fiscally
responsible for your money as you are. After deciding to embark on this great adventure, we began to
prepare everything for the next Open Track Day, which would happen in Pueblo in
two weeks. Let the spending begin!
Chapter
1: The Trailer For the record, Neither
Hopkins nor I have a vehicle that will tow a trailer. And on that fateful day, beyond some moron uttering “I know
where we can get a cheap trailer,” we didn’t have a trailer, either.
That cheap trailer (courtesy of my father) had been sitting in the back
yard, with snowmobiles resting on it’s tired back, since 1983 without any
maintenance. Going out to take a
look at it, it seemed to be in reasonable shape.
Of course, we’d have to find a way to dispose of the snowmobiles and that would be that.
Sadly, this was wrong. After
conning, er, inviting Greg Martin over to help us tow the trailer over to our
house, the real discoveries were about to begin. For although the trailer
looked okay from a distance, the plywood flooring had rotted out and need to be
replaced, and it had rusted. New
plywood, paint and some way to connect the bikes to the trailer would be in
order. Around $500 in supplies
later and our ‘inexpensive’ trailer would be complete. After installing new plywood and stripping off the old rusty parts, we decided that in order to keep our new $1000 trailer in good shape, it would be appropriate to paint the thing. Now in order to set the stage for the next chapter, you need to realize that life and the world continue to move about you as you are embarking on Track Bike Month. So, into this mix of lunacy, the weather decided to turn south and my Duc was at Ft. Collins Ducati getting serviced. A service that of course, took much longer than anticipated. Chapter 2: It was a dark and stormy night… Imagine if you will, Two
tired, wet and hypothermic riders back from a fruitless, yet insane quest to
pick up one Idiots bike from Ft. Collins. (Terry McCormack and myself). Enter into
the picture one Gung-ho State Director that has been busy filling his lungs with
rust particles and steel shavings all day. Add 1/2 dozen cans of red
"Rust-o-Leum" and one naked trailer. Close garage door, add beer and
begin to stir... When entering into painting
in a closed area, there are several things that must be considered: -the EPA
forbids any aerosol painting without proper ventilation and filtering
procedures. -in a non-ventilated area (Read: without updraft fans that suck air
up and out of the paint booth) atomized (or aerosol) paint particles tend to
obey that law of physical motion that says they will stay in motion until coming
to rest on the farthest points in the garage. -breathing is a simple form of
updraft ventilation. Therefore atomized paint is pulled out of the atmosphere at
large and sucked at the rate of respiration into your lungs. -the more paint
that you inhale, the faster your breathing becomes. The geniuses that decided to
engage in this endeavor neglected to think (it was Pretty Darn Late on a Friday
night...Like 8ish, So it could be that we were ill-equipped to think anyway.
Although some may argue that time has no relevance to this matter) of the
consequences. After getting a chance to
change into dry clothes (of course, Mr. McCormack didn't see fit to bring dry
clothing of his own, so I had to lend him some) we wandered out into the garage
like sheep into the slaughterhouse. The door of the garage had to be lowered to
reduce the wind and rain that raged outside. There was about 3 feet of opening
to the garage door (because the tongue of the trailer stuck slightly outside of
the garage) for fresh air to enter the room...We looked around for some short
time for my painting mask, then said, “aw heck, we'll be fine.” And we
commenced to spray-painting. Second
Lesson: Spraying paint is like
shooting a shotgun. You hit some of what you aim at, and the rest (in roughly
equal amounts) goes, well, everywhere that you're not aiming. Soon we began to giggle that
the room "looked awfully pink" from the clouds of paint in the air
(Hello!!!! The air is filled with paint!!!!! Hello!!!) but we just kept on
painting. It was some minutes after this that I realized that the shoes that
Terry wore were rapidly being coated in pink (because it was falling out of the
air) were the brand new ones I had just lent to him... Then Brian wiped
his nose. "Hey guys..." Said Mr. Hopkins curiously, "My nose is
all red. Terry, your nose is all red, too...Wow, maybe we should call this one a
night. Look at the floor and the air. Everything has this weird red cast to
it..." We looked around. It did indeed resemble the set of a slasher movie.
I will never be able to read some graphic violent scene in a novel that says,
"the air erupted in a pink mist" the same way again. We stumbled inside, taking
off red coated shoes, pouring mineral spirits on hands and on paper towels to
rub under noses...Terry had to escape home, and I handed him my car keys...You
can see that we were obviously off of our collective rockers. Epilogue: All the
principals of this incident awoke Saturday morning, heads pounding like a Led
Zeppelin drum solo. I, for one, sneezed about 20 times before the discharge (ewww)
was no longer "radiant red." Good thing that no one was reported
missing by the local police that night, because the garage floor looked like the
aftermath of a massacre. Despite being covered, Brian's 748 had a new shade of
red on about 45% of the fairing. The BMW had a red fender. The various
garage-type implements (lawnmowers, ladders, tools, riding suits) are various
shades of red from Light Pink to Crimson Tide.
But the trailer, thankfully, had been completed. Chapter 3:
Riding the Perfect Beast. The bike itself really was
fairly inexpensive to get ready for the track.
Thank goodness for small favors. The
expensive stuff is everything else you have to have.
A short list of those inexpensive items (can you say nickel-and-dimed to
death?) include: Race leathers (more later), repair stands, timing equipment
(again, more later), tie downs, tools, something to provide shade at the track,
etc., etc. Our first track day dawned
bright and early. Hunt Spear would
be providing the tow vehicle, so in exchange we broke his VF500
Interceptor (a tragic tie-down accident) and he got to pull down the bikes (ours
and Terry Mc’s) for free. After
trying to get lost, we pulled into Pueblo Motorsports Park and began to unload.
There were about 12 people with bikes that day and one guy with a 911
Carrera at the track. Tom Vervaeke was kind enough to organize everything, so that
all we had to do was show up and plonk down our $45 per rider for ˝ day of
hooliganism. Compared to everything
else, this was a bargain. Now the first thing anyone
will tell you when you start talking about going to track days is that “you
ride your own pace, you never have to worry about competing, it’s all just for
fun and excitement.” And you know
what, that’s ALL true. But after
going out on your first few laps around, getting used to the track, hoping that
someone is kind enough to let you follow a good line, something starts
happening. Pretty soon it comes
down to the numbers. You start
wanting to know “just how fast did I go?”
The stopwatch comes out. And
then, it’s all over for your wallet. To be honest, my first few
laps were frightening. I really
felt like I had no idea what I was doing and what the bike would do before I
lost it. I had two goals for the
day: To get a knee down and to beat Hopkins.
I would meet one of those goals, anyway.
After watching Brian go around the track for his second session, and
watching him better my times by 5, then 8, then 10 seconds, I began to feel the
competitive juices flow. I followed
Tom around the track (and found out that riding on the dirt is not conducive to
better lap times) and got a better idea of the line to follow. I began to shave time. I
began to experiment, and I began to get really comfortable with the idea that I
was in control of the bike, and I could do make it do more than I had ever
attempted before. It might not have
been the most fun I’ve ever had with my clothes on, but it was not any lower
than 4th. By the end of
our half-day session, I had put my knee sliders down on the asphalt and on a
tire barrier, I had not, however gone faster than Brian. I was ecstatic. I
was alive. I was exhausted. Lesson
Three: It may not seem like much at
the time, six or eight laps at a time, 2:15 seconds per lap, but after seven
sessions on the track, you are simply drained.
I think it’s the concentration, the thinking, the constant shifting of
your body, but I was ready to stop and go take a nap.
After doing this, you being to realize just how good the pros and
endurance racers really are. When you first get out on
the track, it seems like it’s everything you can do to keep the bike on the
road, to shift gears, to brake before dying.
However, after a few sessions, you find out you’re not thinking as
much, that you can actually limit the areas of concentration.
You become smoother and you become faster, you get braver.
Just getting around the track isn’t enough.
Getting around the track faster than anyone else is what you want
to do. You realize that using the
stopwatch on your timex isn’t good enough any more.
Say “Cha-Ching!” with me now brothers and sisters!
Because once you get your bike on the track, and you come back into the
pits, and your friends are smiling and yelling and giving you complements and
good-natured ribbing, you realize that somewhere, somehow, you can buy
speed. Or power.
Or less weight. And that will make you faster.
Like I said before, even though it isn’t about how fast you can go, it’s all about how fast you can go. It’s all about how much better of a rider you feel like you’re becoming. It’s knowing that after 4 hours on a track in 10 minute intervals that you can go out to your favorite twisty highway and you know that you can be faster and smoother and lean over farther and react better and not even think about it. Knowing that your safety limits have been raised because you have become a more capable rider and that is the best feeling you can have. That, and beating someone else’s time who is on a bigger, lighter, newer, more powerful bike. Because you will!!!. You might or might not give them a hard time that day at the track, but you know. You know and your other friends know because you’re gonna tell them. That’s just the way we are. Chapter 4: Equipment and Gear Lesson
four: I said I would get back to the
riding equipment. Our beloved (?) state director let it all hang out at the
track wearing a First Gear riding suit. Sort
of an Aerostitch knock-off. In the
midst of his getting faster, braver, etc., he forgot the laws of physics, tried
to over-tax the front tire (leaning, braking and turning is not allowed) and
went down. He broke the inside of
his shoulder. He tore a little hole
in his knee. He’s in pain and off
of the motorcycle for a few months. Hard
armor in his suit would have likely saved his shoulder and knee.
If you’re going to go out to a track day (DO IT!!!!!), make sure you
have at least this much gear:
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