Sept 24-26, 2004 USGPRU Finals, Virginia International Raceway

Arrival This was a long, long weekend, as it started for me Thursday morning when I caught an 11am flight to Raleigh/Durham airport from San Diego, with a layover in Ohio. I arrived at 8:15pm in North Carolina, where a fellow 125GP racer, Michael Santelia and his wife Rebecca, picked me up and took me out to meet other visitors to Virginia for drinks. So instead of dinner, I had wine. Michael and Rebecca hosted me that Thursday night and we talked and drank more wine until very late that night. (My reasoning was that they were three hours ahead and I needed something to help me go to sleep that night. It worked pretty darn well.) Michael drove my gear and me to the track early (oh, 3:00am by my California watch, 6 by North Carolina time) in the morning the next day.

Friday Practice I found my bike, which had been driven out by Joel Manes of Apex Predator Racing, dropped off my stuff, paid for the practice day, and went out to learn the track. VIR is amazing. The track is 2.5 miles, FAST, with grass runoff, 17 corners and big elevation changes. The back part of the track is called the rollercoaster, and it is: hard right to fast rolling left, right, left corners, very fun. Then there are the facilities: classrooms, showers, good food made on site, ride through tech garage....my only complaint was the fine grit ground cover used in the pits that covered tires, knees and anything laid on the ground. Most locals had some kind of cover for it but we were not so prepared. USGPRU was teamed with the CCS regional finals was well as the 125 Can-AM series. The CCS regional workers were friendly, helpful, and seemed genuinely happy to be there. The whole organization was run extremely well. We even got to register and tech bikes the night before.

The first practice session out I was convinced I would never learn the track in time to be fast in qualifying, first thing Saturday morning. Contrary to what I thought would be my fate, the track sort of came together for me by the end of the day and I was able to have a really good time just riding. They also modified the schedule the next day so that I would have a 25 minute GT race before qualifying. I changed my tires that night.

We went out for pizza that evening and I had the worst glass of wine I have had in my life. It was red wine, and it was chilled, and the waitress was clueless when I asked for some NOT from the fridge. I was exhausted and jet lagged, and really wanted to sleep right away. A drink would have helped; I had trouble falling asleep and more trouble waking up due to the time difference. I woke up even more tired.

Saturday qualifying I signed up the night before for the 25 minute GT Lights race to get some more time on the track. Today I had a transponder so I could see what kind of times I was doing. First practice session out I was doing 1:46’s and still getting comfortable on the track. (I really need to learn a method to learn a track quickly, because it takes me forever - suggestions anyone?) This had 31 starters and probably 20 of them were SV650s, my least favorite bike in the world. Since this was a fast track, two SVs kept passing me on the long straight and I would pass them in the corners, until the straight again where they would get me near the end. I finished around 20th.

Qualifying was next and it was a disaster. Bike overheating as 50 125s jammed the gate waiting to be let onto the track. Finally they let us go and we got a red flag after 2 or 3 laps. The clock was still ticking for the 15 minute qualifying as we waited to be let back out again. I got a few more laps in but nothing great. I think my fastest time was a 1:44, putting me in the second wave of the race, row 11. Sheesh. I felt terrible. The only respite I had was that I always go 3-4 seconds faster in the race than in qualifying so I was planning on getting to a 1:40 in the race and placing much better than 35th or wherever I was. I heard that some of the Can-Am riders threw fits about the short qualifying session, but it affected everyone. I walked the track with some friends that evening,

My radiator was leaking a bit, from the top left corner. That night I bought stop-leak for my radiator on the advice of a two-stroke mechanic. I skipped dinner to go to bed early, but still couldn’t fall asleep, as there were noisy people in the room next to us, and out in the hallway. Finally at midnight I flung the door open to find a group of 14 year old girls sitting around, gabbing loudly in the hallway. I told them to pipe down and didn’t hear a thing after that.

Sunday Race I registered and teched put stop leak in my radiator, ran it for a while and then went out for first practice. I got halfway down the entrance road, twisted the throttle hard and water shot straight up into the inside of my windscreen! I had a fountain spouting in my bike, so I made it through turn one and pulled off the track. No practice for me. I was going to use this morning to get to a 1:42, but no such luck.

John Hjelm of Hjelm motorsports had a bike that Carlos Neves borrowed for the finals. He crashed in qualifying and broke some ribs, so he wasn’t riding. I borrowed that bike’s radiator for the race. USGPRU wanted all the bikes on their grid positions in pit lane for the warm up lap. We carted our generator and tire warmers to the grid and waited for the calls to begin. I got a push start on third call and went for my warm up lap, found my grid position and waited for the first wave to go before I shut my shield. While my hand was still closing my shield the green flag went. I had forgotten it was going to be a fast second wave...so I put my bike in gear and went around the outside of a bunch of people into turn one. This worked pretty well but before turn 8 the red flag came out. We went back to the hot pits and waited for the calls again.

This time I was prepared for the flag, but it didn’t help my start any. I think I passed even fewer people into turn one than my previous, late start. Everyone just bunched right up into turn one and I was stuck behind a handful of slow riders for a couple of tight corners. I made my way through the back of the pack, each lap picking off a few, until I felt my foot slipping a bit downshifting from the front straight into turn one. Uh oh, did I have oil on my foot? Turn one is a tight, first gear left off the long front straight, so you need to downshift 5 times for it. I swore that shifter felt very slippery and it worried me a bit. My concentration broke, and I considered coming in. I would have hated to come in and have it all in my mind, so instead I reached down to my shift lever on the front straight, felt around, then looked at my glove to see if there was oil on it. It was dry, so I decided to keep on going. There were two guys ahead I was faster than, so I pushed to catch them. Entering the rollercoaster, I lowsided my bike and slammed the right peg into the pavement, breaking the bracket. I rolled and hit my head, luckily the runoff here is grass, so it just bounced. I thought I broke the tips of my left index and pointer fingers, and was afraid to take my glove off for a bit. (Turns out I didn’t, but I got a nice black fingernail out of it.)

I checked my bike and sure enough, found oil. But it was high up on the seat, on my knee but not low if it were coming from the engine. I rode the crash truck back, slightly baffled. Back at the pits, I pulled grass out of my bike, and Eric from Apex Predator found my steering damper had blown and leaked all over the bike, and probably the tire, causing my crash. Disappointing. To add insult to injury, I am listed in the official results as finishing 47th out of 49, when I never even finished the race. I guess if you complete over half of the 15 laps, you are placed accordingly. I’d rather take the DNF. The trip was definitely worth it though: I rode an amazing track, learned more about my bike, made some good friends, found some inspiration, and am more determined than ever to take my racing to higher levels.

The entire weekend damage totaled 9 broken bones and around 12 crashes (several people more than one). Many of those crashes got back on the track, as did some of the broken bones! Stu Aitken-Cade rode with a broken arm from an earlier crash (and crashed again in the race), Darrel Baker rode with a broken collar bone, Carlos Neves broke his ribs in qualifying, and Scott McNew entered turn one on the first lap of the 250 race, with no brakes whatsoever. He exited the track at ~80 MPH and broke his left clavicle, left shoulder and right hand. And it was on a borrowed bike. But that’s racing, isn’t it?

I want to thank the following people for letting this weekend happen and for supporting me: Joel from Apex Predator Racing - for driving my bike out and back, helping me with my bike, food and hotel, providing comic relief, and for leaving me some interesting photos on my camera.
Michael and Rebecca Santelia - for picking me up from the airport, hosting and entertaining me Thursday night, driving me to the track, and helping me get back to the airport on Sunday. You guys are the best.
John Hjelm - For the loan of the radiator. Sorry it came back a little dirty....
Eric from Apex Predator Racing - for helping me with my bike, for the encouragement and for supplying the cutest, sweetest dog in the pits.
Jay Pilster - For the loan of the rental car, the racing inspiration
Melissa Paris - For sharing a hotel room with me and being the coolest racer girl of the weekend
JM - For supporting my trip out there while he stayed home, tolerating very few phone calls from me, and for the encouragement from across the country.

On to the race report.

September 18-19 WSMC
Before arriving in good spirits in Rosamond for the September round of bloodletting, I made quite a few changes to the bike. They included:
-New plugs
-10 gallons of expensive race fuel burned to perfect a custom fuel injection map
-one tooth larger rear sprocket
-modification to radiator

While these changes were hardly massive, they were intended to give me a more raceable package and one that wouldn’t overheat. To that end, the mission was accomplished. Saturday practice saw me using cold weld to patch a pin hole leak in the radiator, left over from the modification. Once that was done, I went out and tried the new gearing. It was better everywhere, and didn’t require me to change any corner entry gear selection. I was a little worried about that. I was still getting extreme tire wear at the rear, and still having a hard time finishing any long corner, but things were a little better all the way around. Plus, the bike was noticably faster and running under 200 degrees again, so all in all not bad.

At the end of Saturday practice, I went to CA Race Services and found they were out of my favorite front tire--Bummer! I guess that’ll teach me to order them the month prior. That bummed me out a little, but I got the rear I wanted and had the boys spoon ‘em on.

Sunday, race one was Battle of the Twins (BOTT) Heavyweight. I got a decent start and slotted in behind Kenny. I pushed for a few corners, but he was able to pull a gap on me in two and six, and I just couldn’t stay with him. I ended up just circulating in second, a little ticked off at my handling woes. About a lap from the end I realized I had been progressively slowing as there was not enough talent to chase Kopecky and thought I should look back and make sure I was still all alone. Good thing I did, there was Michael Cirolli on his Yellow Duc trying to sneak by while I was daydreaming. I had to put the man pants back on and step up the lap times to keep him behind me, but was fortunate to cross the finish line just ahead of him. Good race Michael.

Race two was the feature for me, Formula Twins. I havn’t beaten Kenny or Claudio yet this year, and was anxious to see if I could do any better. I’ll save you the long winded report--nope. I’m starting to get a little frustrated at the push in all the fast long corners. The better mapping and more power and better gearing all helped a bit, but without the ability to really rip in turns 2 and 6 and 8 and 9, I’m doomed to follow those guys around. I was able to stay ahead of Headly junior, and kept Kenny behind me for a while, but he came by me on the last lap and while it was close, I ended up fourth. He was gracious enough to later say it was obvious my bike was pushing severely, and that it made it alot easier to get by me. Nice to get corroboration.

I’ll be doing some brain storming on the handling woes before September, so stay tuned.

Thanks to Britt, and to Kent at Airtech for helping me with my radiator.

I didn’t take any pictures for this weekend, so here are some pictures of all my girls at the beach. [Editor’s note: both dogs are girls, and then there is me, also a girl.]

Sept 18-19 WSMC

Another weekend at WSMC, they just keep coming, don’t they? The only thing really note-worthy about this weekend is 1) It was incredibly windy 2) I wasn’t geared for it and it is my own fault.

We left early Saturday morning and arrived in time for first practice round. The weather was nice, a bit breezy in the am to downright windy after around 11am. I had a 20 lap GT race at lunchtime, which is essentially becoming another 250 race, since the GP bikes cannot run in the other GT classes. Well sheesh, if I had a 500cc two-stroke, I could run it in that class and clean up! But I’m on my 125 against mostly 250s at Willow Springs raceway, a very fast track.

Last month I had 3rd place in the bag for this race, until I was black flagged for missing a second tech sticker. This month I actually led the race for three laps and then got taken to the cleaners by the 250s. The wind had picked up and it really hurts the ultra-light 125 bikes. So I place 5th. I did two more practice sessions after that, it felt like the longest day in the history of man.

Race day was windy by 8am. I knew it was going to be a rough one, but I didn’t make any changes to the bike. I should have changed the gearing for the wind but I just left it and thought I could ride through it. My race was 11th so by then the wind was howling. I took pictures of JM’s race while I waited for mine.

I was gridded 2nd, but Kevin Murray on pole did not race due to eye surgery. The race started and I was 2nd into turn one, behind Sharyn Namnath who got a smoking start. It was so windy that I had to downshift in the middle of turn 2, which is usually wide open in 4th gear. A couple of times coming around turn 9 onto the straight, I had to downshift to 3rd! I take that corner normally in 5th (it’s a fast corner, obviously). I’d say the winds were at 40 MPH. Most of the race I struggled to find a gear to get me through a corner or section of the track, and stay upright. At least the wind wasn’t gusty, just steady and strong.

Jay Pilster passed us both fairly early in the race and proceeded to gap us. I didn’t see anyone else in that race, but I think there were 7 or 8 people in it. I passed Sharyn a couple times in turn 5 and she would pass me back on the front straight. I decided I’d have to pass earlier if I wanted to place second. So I got her entering turn three on the last lap and finished second. This put me back in the points lead for the championship, by six points. Not the white knuckle race that last month was, but not a bad one either.

Thanks to California Race Services for the tires and JM for the support. And congratulations for our friend Jim on his very first race ever.

August 7-8 OMRRA
Portland is an 1100 mile drive from our house in San Diego. You forget this when you normally ride the jetstream at Mach .85 and land two and a half hours after you take off. You remember this 12 hours into the drive when you still have most of Oregon to traverse.

Peanut and I made the day-long juant to P-town to compete in the USGPRU round held there and to have a fun test and tune with my friends, respectively. I thought It’d be good to see all my the bastards (www.dirtyrottenbastards.com) and continue trying to find that setup for the Aprilia that has been eluding me thus far. We arrived late Thursday night and woke to rain Friday. Before moving to San Diego last year, I spent 21 years in Portland, and you would think that this wouldn’t have surprised me but you’d be wrong. I even forgot to tell Britt to bring her rain tires.

We anxiously checked the weather and were happy to find a sunny and hot forecast for Saturday and Sunday. Friday afternoon I installed a Powercommander and couldn’t really tell much of a difference on pump gas. This should have been a sign to unplug the unit, but no, I’m dumb, and convinced myself it was a little better. I swapped my rear spring for the 650 pounder I’ve been needing, and adjusted the geometry a bit, and threw on a new set of Pirellis. Saturday’s practice was revelation. The bike finally turned-in quickly but still held a line. I goofed off in practice and still ran low 1:11s, including a 1:11.1 as timed by someone else.

Sunday morning I had two heat races that would allow me to get a realistic grid position for the 10 lap races in the afternoon. The first was 750 Superbike, where I would start at the back of the grid, being a newcomer to OMRRA this year. Of course, I forgot to add fuel before the race and at third call I remembered as I was heading towards pit lane. By the time I got it added, I missed the warmup lap. This meant I had to start from the pit lane after everyone else had started and gone by. Yup, more rookie action. Luckily it was 750 SB, which I was running to play with some friends mid-pack and get some tracktime for the Open Twins race. Think I qualified 13th out of a full field of fourtyish. Not bad when you give everyone a halfstraight head start and only have four laps.

My Open Twins heat had me gridded 11th out of a 17 bike field, not sure why but I took it. I passed into the lead on lap two, sure that the other fast Twins guy (Scott Ferrell, nice guy and very quick) was sand bagging to check out my game. I slowed down, so did everyone else and I finished on the pole. I noticed that the bike was running pretty warm, but didn’t pay a whole lot of attention. It was around a hundred degrees, and I’ve seen water temperatures above 200, so I wasn’t that concerned.

I got a crappy start for the 750 Superbike final and spent a few laps going from around 20th to 10th. By that point the leaders had checked out, and even though I could run laptimes to get into the top five, I wasn’t going to make up the distance I lost, so I battled with my buddy Tyson for the rest of the race, ending up 9th. It was fun, which was the reason I decided to race at Portland, so yeah.

Coming off the track the bike was at 204 degrees water temperature, and felt a touch down on power compared to running under 190. I only had one ten lap race before OT, and it felt like I took my helmet off, grabbed some Gatorade, and checked the fuel, then went back out. I was worried during the sight-in lap as the bike was running around 208, not too good considering we hadn’t started yet. I lined up on pole and got another crappy start. I think a few nights at the drag strip are in my future. Anyway, I passed an RC51 pilot at the end of the first lap and took over second place, only a few bike lengths behind Scott. I pulled right up on him in turn nine and got a rude awakening. Down the front straight I couldn’t even stay in his draft. Ouch. I was able to make time on him in the infield, and could close right to his rearwheel into turn seven, but he’d pull a few bike lengths down front straight and I’d have to do it all over again. Then the bike seemed to slow a little and I realized it was running at above 212. We also encountered the slower riders in the Open supersport class that was the wave before us, and traffic made it even more difficult to stay glued to his rear wheel. I just tryed to keep it close and hope for a small mistake from Scott, but he stayed the course, and after ten laps, I finished just off his rear wheel, surrounded by some of the Open Supersport riders, for second place. Congratualtions to Scott, I’d love to race him again, but probably won’t be in Portland for some time to come. It was fun though. Now to find out what I can do to keep the priller running cool.

Thanks to California Race Services for the great tires and to Josh Bryan and the Tigershark Racing crew for mounting them for me during the race weekend.

Thank you PB for the help driving, thanks to all my friends and family for coming out to support Little,Big Racing.

This race happened one week before the previous post. I had created and managed the team website (littlebigracing.com) where these were posted after each race weekend, and the archived pages did not include years, only months. I’ve had to sequence these through where weekends fall on which year. It sure would have been easier to just name these by the date they were run! But then, 20 years ago, I would never have guessed I would be reposting any of this.

This was a weekend in JM’s hometown of Portland, where the racetrack there, Portland International Raceway (PIR) is owned by the city, which means it is taxpayer supported and therefore, not a priority to spend money on. What I mean is, it is not paved regularly. Rough, bumpy, slippery tracks are bad enough for big bikes but for lightweight bikes they are even worse. And for me, good pavement was highly important because I was a very sensitive rider, probably from riding horses in my youth (that correlates highly, as does piloting aircraft and shooting, for some reason.) Sensitivity is good to a point—knowing what the tires are doing, what the suspension is doing is helpful—but I was probably way over the threshold of useful sensitivity and into the realm of paranoia.

So. The track has a lot of grass and a veritable forest in the middle of the track, foliage that produces so much oxygen that on the back straight, which is a slightly higher elevation than the front straight, the jetting of any two stroke feels the difference between the front and back highest speed portions of the track. This was acuriosity and entertained me all throughout the weekend.

We drove up with our two bikes and two dogs in a van. We had lots of visitors at our pits: John-Mark’s cousin Henry came to spectate, his brother Matthew, his best friend Galen, and his old school friends. I have not read this race report in 20 years. I did not remember that I qualified 6th but was gridded 19th becuase the organizing body fucked up my transponder number. I wonder how I would have done if I did not have 18 bikes in front of me at the start. Well, whatever. Let’s get to the races.

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August 7-8 USGPRU/OMRRA

We took a little 17.5 hour drive to make it to the last Western Region USGPRU race of the year: San Diego to Portland. With two dogs in the cab. We needed to take the shedding family members because they figured that barking from 2-4am every night we are gone would force us to take them with us on overnight/weekend trips. Several calls from the city, nasty notes, and neighbors stopping by, their plan worked.

An uneventful drive up, we arrived late on Thursday night. Friday practice was full so we had a day to goof off and set up. Turns out Friday it rained, and I had not brought my rain tires (it’s AUGUST! It’s not supposed to RAIN) so it was just as well we couldn’t practice, although I needed it. Dr. Know is from Portland, so he was quite familiar with the track.

We set up in the infield, which has something like a park in there, power included! It was plush and I’d love to race there again for that alone. The track itself wasn’t the greatest, but still fun enough, if rough in places.

Saturday the weather cleared up and practice commenced. PIR has huge concrete patches and seams all over the place, and is a pretty fast track, with the front straight being 3/4 miles long or something ridiculous. Most local 125 riders have a taller internal 6th gear for that long front straight. I however, did not, and even had to borrow a 16 tooth counter sprocket becau8se mine has gone missing. I was not digging the seams that were upsetting my front end. Considering my contact patch is 1/2 wide and maybe an inch long on my front tire, a big enough upset leaned over could send me sliding. And in turn nine, that would mean into a wall!

Qualifying was towards the end of the day thankfully, although it didn’t seem to help me that much as I didn’t qualify so hot. It was windy and everyone’s times were slower, with the fastest qualifyer at 1:16.9. My fastest time was a 1:20 flat, putting me on row three, although I did a 1:17 earlier in the day.

We had a lot of pit visitors all day, alongside the usual USGPRU riders, who are always friendly and visitatious (I think I just made that word up). It was a good time.

Sunday races: It was 100 degrees on Sunday, you’d never guess it rained two days ago. (This unpredictable and variable weather really reminded me of Australia, where it can be windy and raining one day, 90 degrees and dry the next, and balmy with thunderstroms the following day.) I decided to do the OMRRA 125 race since I was up there anyhow. OMRRA has 4 lap qualifiers for grid positions, which are gridded by points and then by who registered first (I know, confusing). I got a smoking start and led until about turn four, where speedy local boy Mike Orien passed me. I tried to keep up to follow his lines, but the bike upset down the front straight with a bad headshake, so I slowed and was passed by a couple others. I qualified 6th out of 19.

USGPRU race was a 14 lap race with 22 starters on the grid. My start was decent except I was gridded to the inside and got blocked by, oh, 20 bikes. I was also getting killed on the long straight because of my sucky drive out of turn nine. It’s a crucial corner and the seam where I wanted to be scared me, so I stayed to the inside which is the worst place to be if you want a decent drive. So I went around and around, baffled by turn nine, trying a couple of different lines and never getting anything good. Thinking the front was going to tuck a couple times when I hit that seam on the exit of nine if I went too wide. It just sucked and I rode pretty poorly, couldn’t stop looking at the pavement, trying to avoid concrete patches and seams. Man, that place needs a re-pave job for sure.

It wasn’t until lap 8 or so of this race I noticed a seam all the way up the front straight that was causing my bike to headshake occassionally. I had been bewildered as to why I would get a violent headshake up the straight, but only sometimes. I had been right on it a couple of times when I got the headshake and had to slow down, just hadn’t been looking at the pavement. Dumb, but at least I figured it out. I battled for 10th place, making a couple good passes into turn one and seven (the end of a short straight) but getting passed on the front straight by the guy I was battling with. Then the race was red flagged on lap 10. I placed 11th. I don’t think I went much faster in this race than qualifying, which I have done every single race until this one.

The OMRRA 125 race was next and I did far better in this one. I was gridded dead last out of 19, instead of 6th where I had qualified, because OMRRA thought I was bike #82 who was not out there. I was #82x for the weekend since my number is through USGPRU, so they said my transponder wasn’t working since they were looking for #82’s transponder ID. So I didn’t get any times for the day and was gridded last. But still, from a last place start, I was in 5th into turn one. This was a ten lap race and I picked up a lot of speed off the short back straight into turn seven. I know my times dropped a lot, but of course have no idea what they were. Anyhow, was in 8th at one point until I figured out that turn seven entry, then I passed into 7th then 6th, beating out #28 who was a former class champion there. I placed 6th, maybe would have done better if I had been gridded correctly. That was a better race, but I still sucked in turn nine which really hurt me.

Sweaty and dirty, we stopped by a BBQ at Arun’s place for a bit directly from the racetrack. Then we headed back, staying the night somewhere around the California border. Next day we got a blowout around Sacramento. The tire just came apart and was so hot we couldnt touch it. It literally exploded! I must say, Chevy has got a great tire jack and spare set up (but that’s about it).

Special thanks to Mike and Mike of Black Flag Racing, for the counter sprocket and the support. You guys are the best. Thanks to Arun for the BBQ on Sunday night, Dr.Know of course for the moral support, and cousin Henry for the company all weekend.

August 21-22 WSMC
Ok, I’m dumb. I won’t normally admit it, so you may want to save this for later usage. Let’s try and not mention it again, ok? Well, at least not after this particular race report, where the reason for this little revelation comes around one lap into the Formula Twins race. Maybe I should back up and start at the beginning.

The overheating problems I had at Portland were my leading concern during the few days I had to work on the bike before Willow Springs. I straightened all the radiator and oil cooler fins and bled the radiator, and hoped that it would make a small difference. I guess you could say I was cautiously hopeful.

By heading up early Friday and running the trackday before WSMC practice, we were hoping to get a little extra time in to figure out if all the corners were still in the same place. There was a lot more track time than I had tires, so by the afternoon I just relaxed and contemplated my naval and Britt’s derriere. I do that quite a bit, but try to limit it on race weekends. The bike seemed to be running a bit cooler, but it was hard to tell, as it wasn’t as warm and it always had plenty of time to cool between sessions.

Saturday I practiced a bit more with a newer tire, and Britt got hosed in her Solo race by a very silly rule that we didn’t follow unintentionally. You can read about that in her August race report. We felt pretty good by the end of the day and very ready for race day festivities.

Sunday dawned a nice day, but quickly became quite warm. California Race Services spooned on a gummy new set of Pirelli Supercorsa Slicks and I warmed up, staying out only a three laps in each session to limit the wear on the tires. Race One was BOTT Heavy, and I lined up on the pole and saw that I was going to have to deal with Kenny Kopecky again, only this time on his new 999R. Clearly, I was going to have to work for it.

My start was pretty bad, and I ended up having to pass a couple people on the first two corners before I could properly chase Kenny. I put my head down and ran the fastest laps I’ve turned so far, which resulted in my narrowing the gap to the lead. I was feeling good and thought I had a chance to at least fight for the win. Then, as my bike pushed wide out of turn two, I ran off the track with a fair amount of lean angle and went dirt biking at the top of fourth gear. I kept the thing upright and jumped back onto the track, but spent two corners scrubbing the dirt off before I went back to full attack mode. At that point there were two laps left, and I was quite a ways out in front of third, and Kenny was another four seconds up the road, so I decided to sit back and be content with second place and a larger points lead. During the race the bike ran hot but consistant, staying around 210 degrees. Not good.

There were two races and then I was back up for Formula Twins. I managed a better start and slotted in behind Claudio and Kenny. I was feeling pretty racy and was confident that I could stay with them and at least increase my laptimes, if not work on a win. Alas, it was not to be. At the end of the first lap, my bike was running at 212 and started misfiring. I was worried about continuing and just pulled into the pits after circulating around slowly. My first DNF of the year, how nice.

Here’s where the dumb part comes in. Further inspection after the races indicated that my bike was running super lean and just cooked the sparkplugs, resulting in a misfire. Luckily, the priller is very stout, and testing revealed that the leakdown and compression were unaffected. I should never have installed a Powercommander with someone elses custom map, as it wasn’t close enough and ran Waaay too lean with the fuel I was using. Lesson learned.

I’d like to thank PB, California Race Services and Jerry, and the gang at GP motorcycles for helping me diagnose the problem.

Saturday’s GT GP race was shaping up beautifully. I was running third, riding consistently, conserving tires, and feeling pretty good, right up until the black flag pointed at me and I became the only rider in history to lose a podium because someone at pit out was too busy discussing shorts etiquette with my husband to check my bike. By the time I rolled into hot pit and learned my fate, I’d already donated several gallons of expensive race fuel, a rear tire, and most of my dignity to the cause.

Fortunately, racing has a short memory when Sunday arrives.

What followed the next day was one of the wildest and most entertaining battles I’ve ever had on a motorcycle. Drafting passes, late braking into turn one, shoulder-banging in front of cheering spectators, getting nearly taken out around the outside, and slicing through lapped traffic in a three-rider war for the lead, I mean, all it needed was a soundtrack. I finished third again, but this time legally, and the race was later written up in the WSMC newsletter as one of the best of the weekend. Twenty years later, it’s still one of the races I remember corner by corner.

August 14-15, 2004 WSMC

We decided an extra practice day for set up was just what we needed. I had two weeks off before I started a new contract job so we headed up early Friday morning (waking at 4am) and arrived right at 7:30. It was already hot out that early in the morning.

The day was to get up to 105 degrees. In summertime, even the lure of a cheap track day doesn’t bring too many people out. Especially the racers: WSMC racers attend the races and that is about it, so Friday practice was EMPTY, giving us plenty of track time for set up and, well, practice. I changed my gearing for this track finally, from a 15/35 to a 16/36. (Note: the number is how many teeth the sprocket has; reference is front/rear.) It helped and I ended up shifting less, which saves a bit of time. I worked on entering turn one faster and also turn nine.

It was nice not being rushed, we were able to complete all our set up and prep on Friday and we still had another practice day before the races. (Well, Dr. Know did, I had a 20 lap race on Saturday during lunchtime). Friday night, we went out to dinner with friends, bought some wine, and watched some Olympics in the hotel room.

Saturday: Practice went ok, my bike suspension didn’t feel perfect and I had not really put in a hot lap on Friday. So in gearing up for my 20 lap GT GP race (250 and 125 two-stroke GP machines only) I felt the front upsetting through turn two and nine. We made some small changes, but didn’t get it right for my race.

The GT GP race was in front of the GT Lights race, with a two wave start. (Note: Two waves means there are 2 races simultanously on the track, with one starting 30 second before the next. Here it was the faster 125 and 250 GP bikes in front, then the lightweight four stroke bikes which would have been like 650 twins and 400cc four strokes). The spread between 125s and 250s was about even. I think there were 8 in our race and I was in row two. Small grids as it is midday, 20 laps, in the desert. I get a decent start but a slow first lap, so I try to pick up the pace and hold it. Two quick 250s lose me and I don’t see them, until around lap 9 where the lead 250 laps the field! I hear this guy was doing 1:25s on his TZ, that’s quick! I lap a slower 125 rider around lap 11 while I am holding 3rd place in the race, and then a black flag is pointed at me. I pull into the hot pits, nervous, wondering if I’m spewing oil all over the track. I’m waiting there, watching my position dropping, and they tell me I didn’t have the correct tech sticker! Evidently the rules have changed since last year, now you must tech your bike twice to run this race. What?! Yeah, I know. Don’t they usually look at your sticker when you are let onto pit lane? Yes, they do. The lady whose responsibility this is was talking and talking to someone on the pit wall and never looked at me. (Turns out she was talking to my husband, for sitting on the wall in shorts or some crap). So thats it for me, I’m Disqualified. At least the could have told me BEFORE LAP 12 for Pete’s sake. So that cost me: 70 dollars for the third place podium, a couple gallons of race feul and oil, and the rest of my tires.

I get to the pits and EVERYONE is commenting on what a tough break that was for me. I guess lunchtime on Saturday more people can pay attention to what goes on than they can on race day! In the pits, I pull off my lower to change my tires and its absolutely full of bits of rubber. I knew I needed new tires, but I have never seen my tire peel like that.

Sunday: Suspension changes help a little but we are still guessing. Two short practice sessions then a long wait for my race. I’m second from pole, as I am no longer in the points lead after missing last months races due to a family emergency.

(Note: the emergency, which I never shared on any race report, was that my mother-in-law went in for an elective surgery, then stroked out from a brain clot. JM and I met his wole immediate family. Mom in law was determined to be brain dead, and we all decided to pull her off life support. She died in a few days.)

I get a great start and hold the lead until turn nine, where Kevin Murray passes me. This was a rough ride! The track is bumpy and my suspension isn’t handling it very well but I’m not about to back off. Jay Pilster passes me on lap three and battles with Kevin for the lead. I draft past both of them on the straight and brake late into turn one. I can hear spectators in the grandstands at this corner cheering.

Jay tries to go around me on the outside of turn one and runs right into me! I hold the lead again until Kevin gets by me again, but I don’t recall where. Jay passes me again and my plan is to double draft up the straight for the win, but we catch up to the mid pack 250 riders (already having passed the slow ones - this wa a 2 waves start with us 125s starting second). They are going about 5 wide through turn nine and Kevin and I get stuck in traffic while Jay flies through to take the lead. No one else is close to us. I place third on a double points weekend, and I hear that it was the most exciting race of the weekend to watch! It was absolutely the most fun I have had in a race for a while.
(Note: later this race was written about in the newsletter. It remains one of the most exciting race memories.)

This report ends abruptly, I remember being so disappointed this weekend, and it would not be the first. I really needed a mechanic. I needed someone to know what to look for and maintain my bike so I could just practice, memorize tracks, race. Instead I did not finish races, or crashed, or rode so hard I almost passed out. I could have had a bike that worked instead. I worked so hard and tried to be sort of funny in my race reports, but I didn’t have it in me when I wrote about this weekend, I can feel that in the tone of this report.

July 10-11, 2004 USGPRU/CCS

Were were YOU July 10-11, 2004? Quite possibly at Laguna Seca for the Superbike races. Well, I wasn’t. CCS decided it would be a great weekend to have races at Buttonwillow. It was also a USGPRU weekend, so while Dr. Know was slaving away in the Aprilia booth at Laguna Seca, I was racin’ motorcycles! There are certainly worse things to be doing, like working for starters. Hee.

I had never raced at Buttonwillow up until this point. In fact, I had never done an entire track day on my 125 there. I crashed my 125 at this track in 2003, right at the end of June, which put me in the hospital for 6 days (and then 4 more later-but that is another story: If you look around this website, you just may find it) But this place was were I did my very first trackday, and it is a fun, fast, and technical track!

I drove my butt up there Friday night and stayed in some lovely hovel for only 29.00 dollars a night. At least there was a Starbucks nearby, so I ain’t complaining. I pitted in a garage with three other 2-stroke racers. It was 2 stroke frivolity all weekend on that row of garages. Bikes popping and engines being rebuilt the entire time, which means like of static breaking in: WIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!!!

I missed first practice session, had one, then had to qualify. I qualified pretty poorly: 17th out of 22. My best time was a 2:03 something. I think the best qualifying times were around 1:58, with the second group qualifying around 2:01s. There was some serious competition here, and you will see why in a minute. I then did the 250 qualifying round, and went a full second slower. I qualified 16th.

I practiced the rest of the day and didn’t drop my times at all. This track is very narrow and it is difficult to pass on most of the track. My tires were getting cooked and there were only Michelin tire vendors around. (I race on Bridgestones). I went out to dinner with 11 other hooligans, had a couple drinks, and went to bed early.

Sunday morning gave us one round of practice, then the races started. My CCS 125GP race was 4th of the day, right after the Sidecars races. (Speaking of: I talked to some of those guys and am going to be a monkey for one of them at the CCS races in Las Vegas!! But I’m going to wear race boots instead of sneakers like they do. I can’t imagine coming off at 90 MPH and losing a shoe on the pavement. Ouch.) (Editors note: I never did this.) There were 5 bikes in the CCS 125 GP races. We were gridded behind some SV650 race, expert and then novice in front of us. The blockers, we called them. I won the race without dropping my times at all.

Nothing like A-kit parts


My tires at this point were COOKED. No Pirelli/Bridgestone and at this point no other tire vendors as they were all at Laguna Seca or had packed up early and gone home. I had to buy a set of take offs from Josh Herrin who 1) weighs nothing because he is a 14 year old boy and 2) changes tires frequently, so they lasted me the rest of the day, sort of.

Next race was the USGPRU 125 race. I was gridded on the 5th row and got a decent start. Turn 2 at Buttonwillow is a 90 degree right, and we were going four wide through that narrow turn. Someone ran off the inside of the track entering that turn then crossed the track diagonally in front of the pack of us! The entire race was mayhem, with bikes running off the track and crashing everywhere. There were some VERY fast guys in this race: the 125 lap record was broken, set at 1:54.333 by Brian Kracget, who broke down on the very last lap and never crossed the finish line. The extremely fast Nobi Iso from Portland placed 6th! I placed 12th and dropped my best time to a 2:00.53. I was really hoping to break the two minute mark, but I will save that for next time.

The 250 race was next, but my bike was running so hot I had no power. It must have been down to 34 HP or less. (I raced the 125 in the 250 race). The take offs were also done, so I pulled off the track on lap 9, rather than sticking a piston or losing the front/rear because of no tire grip.

I discovered later there was a tiny pinhole leak in the cylinder head, that had gotten larger throughout that 250 race. The bike was running so hot that the piston was cooked and even the cylinder was scuffed up from it. I don’t know how down on power I was for the 125 race, but by the time I pulled the bike off the track, I was down to about 30HP. The temp. gauge was not accurate, it only showed 70 C, (which is still high) but the water was not circulating and that made the temp not display correctly.

‘The crew’ on these weekends, meaning all of our racing friends and aquaintences, would meet at a local Mexican restaurant. There would be several large tables of racers in the same dining room, teams sticking together but sometimes mixing, eating greasy food and drinking margaritas, before heading off to either their camper trailer or van (or sometimes even a tent), or the local cheapo hotel in Rosamond. And I mean, it was cheap in every way. But it was the only one, so the hollow core doors and rockhard mattresses were what you got.

This was not yet the age of smartphones, so when staying in a hotel, we relied on a wake up call from the hotel reception. Every once in a while, that call would not happen. Someone would fall asleep and then the requester of said wake up call would find themselves opening their eyes far, far later than they had planned. After a day of practice and stress and a night of Margaritas and greasy Mexican food, one’s internal clock did not register, or it just hit the snooze button on its own.

Waking was usually late, usually occuring during the starting moments of a practice session that would have been MUCH PREFERABLE to not miss. One would have to throw their things into their vehicle, throw the motel keys on the desk on the way out the door to speed down the road to race track. One would enter the gates to the track property to find bikes on the asphalt, like the actual race track, while announcements blared through the speakers and folks asked where you have been. Your bike or bikes still needed a tech inspection before getting on track, and your tire pressure needed checking, and probably your bike needed fuel, and tires needed heating, and you only had two practice sessions before races began and you likely had already missed one. These mornings were not enjoyable, at all.

This weekend was not one of those, fortunately.

June 19-20 WSMC
I came to WSIR in June [Note: WSIR is Willow Springs International Raceway] looking for a better setup. So far, I’d been using a 600 lb rear spring and after discussions with Dave Hodges of GP Suspension, felt like a 650 pounder would help me deal with what was ailing me. Fortunately, Dave decided to drive down for the June round. Unfortunately, he only had a 625 lb spring for my shock with him.

I decided to try it and was encouraged by my initial results. Also this weekend, I got to try a new rear tire, a 190/65 16.5 instead of a 190/60. I had spoken with a few other racers all over the US who are racing the 2004 Aprilia RSVR, and found some similarities in their chassis geometry, but thought I’d try the new tire before I made some big changes to the chassis. Wish I would have now.

Saturday felt better, but after a few sessions it was apparent that although the spring rate was a bit better, it wasn’t enough. The new tire was definitely better than the 60 series version, and felt great all afternoon. I normally fit my new set of tires for the weekend up on Sunday morning, but since the tires I had on the bike were toast when I got to the track, I had the new set fit up for Saturday afternoon. Then I started focusing on everything else and forgot about it.

Sunday BOTT Heavyweight was first up, and I lined up on the Pole, which is a nice confidence booster. What wasn’t making me so confindent was Kenny Kopecky deciding that racing twins looked fun and buying a new 749R and entering it in BOTT Heavy. The start was pretty bad, and I ended up fourth or fifth into turn one. I knew I needed to set off after Kenny and not get balked, so I made a couple early moves and ended up in second by the end of the first lap, staring at the back end of a very fast 749R. Kenny looked back a couple of times and I started to reel him in, over the next couple of laps, thinking I’d get a shot at the lead before the end. Then Kenny pulled off! He later told me that since WSMC will not allow you to race up, and the 749R is legal in BOTT MIddleweight, he only entered Heavy for some additional tracktime on a new bike, and pulled off so as to not interfere with “our” race. I assured him I wouldn’t have protested, as there have been others on 748s, but thought it was very cool to be concerned. Oh, did I mention I won?

Formula Twins allowed me a better start, and I passed into third in turn two. By the end of the first lap I started thinking I might be able to get second, having realized I wouldn’t have anything for Claudio (I plan on beating him before the year is out, doggonit). That positive thinking only lasted for a few turns, and was replaced by that uh-oh feeling. The rear tire, having more laps than normal, decided to give it up, and begin to go off in big way. Then Richie Headley went by, placing me fourth behind Claudio, Kenny and Richie. I was limping along in big trouble, though, crawling around, and then Bob Setbacken came by, relegating me to fifth. That was the finishing order. Looking at my rear tire after the race, the right side was worn flat. A dumb, very rookie move. Of course, I am a rookie, essentially, so there.

Thanks to Peanut, after a frustrating weekend for her (see her race), and to California Race Services for continuing to help me work on bike setup with the various great Pirellis they keep supplying me with. Also: Laz, keep fighting, keep improving, we’re rooting for you.

What followed was a race conducted in a state of such intense concentration that I missed both the white flag and the checkered. Earlier, I had decided to retire my second bike after a piston siezed in the fastest, longest corner of the racetrack.

And that, in miniature, was the weekend: One bike gone. One lesson learned. One more desert autopsy filed under Move On.

Entry from June 19-20, 2004 Willow Springs Motorcycle Club

We had a little extra pit crew help this weekend via our friend Galen down for a visit from Portland. We clad him in a team shirt and made him work all weekend. This provided a third stooge for the usual two in the pits :)

I had planned on racing the new GP GT class on Saturday (WSMC’s answer to not allowing GP bikes in the GT races). The GT races are always after 5pm on Saturday during the summer months only. Well, that morning they announced that the GP GT would take place during the lunch break on Saturday. I’m sure there is a person somewhere on Earth that would enjoy a 20 lap race, midday, in the middle of the desert, in June, but that person is not me. Now, I would have sucked it up and done it, regardless of liking it or not, but the 125 was far from being set up correctly.

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We had changed the shock spring to a slightly stiffer shock, so I was confounded as to why the bike felt like the spring was welded in position with zero travel. We adjusted and adjusted, but the problem was translating into serious front end high speed wobbles. I had to chop the throttle through the two fastest parts of the track for me, turn 2 and 8. We just couldn’t figure out the problem.

I was gridded on the pole, got a fantastic start and lead into turn one. As soon as hitting turn two however, I had to slow down. I think it was turn 8 of the first lap I was passed, where the front end was chattering all over the place. I tried to sit as far forward on the tank as I could to keep the front down and more stable. All I remember is catching up to the lead group a few times in the slow part of the track, turn 3, 4 and 5, getting left on the faster parts and just concentrating really, really hard. I don’t remember much else from the race. I was concentrating so hard I never saw either the white flag nor the checkered flag, so I did not even know the race was over! I realized the race was over when I caught up to the leading three riders and saw they were all sitting up and the corner workers were all waving to us. Needless to say I was pretty disappointed.

It wasn’t until a week later when we were putting the softer spring back on the shock, did we see that the bumper at the bottom of the shock went in crooked and squashed the plastic spring guide into the spring, severely limiting travel. That would explain the shake. At least I know now what was wrong at the last USGPRU race weekend. What else is there to do but move on.

I didn’t race the Aprilia 250. It finally got booted off the team. Turns out the fork springs I very generously received for free were the same springs that were already in there: Stock. I would have to have a custom pair made, and seeing that the season is half over and I was only going to race this bike for one year, it isn’t worth the trouble. The final straw was the piston seizing in the cylinder during Saturday practice. Thank goodness it was only a soft seize, because it was in turn 8 at Willow Springs and that is not somewhere you want your engine to stick hard and chuck you. [Editors note: There is major foreshadowing in this statement.]

I sold the 250 with the piston welded in the cylinder for cheap pretty quickly. I just got tired of messing with the thing. It is quite difficult to race two bikes without a full time pit crew and mechanic, so it will be somewhat of a relief to me having only one bike to tech, prep, change tires, change oil, etc, etc.

Many, many thanks go to Galen who was visiting us and played pit crew all weekend. And no you cannot have my dog, even if she loves you :)

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By Saturday morning it was clear this weekend would be less about racing and more about survival. The schedule was missing our races entirely, the announcer couldn’t pay enough attention to get even the name or the organization correct, and my qualifying strategy was reduced to “find a sock, avoid paralysis, and go as fast as possible before complete physical collapse.” Lap times stalled, confidence evaporated, and the wind continued to actively participate in the event. What followed was a series of races best described as stubborn forward motion under protest. Enjoy.

June 5-6, 2004 USGPRU/CCS
This was my toughest race weekend to date. Although I had a full-time pit crew (Dr. Know) and only one bike to worry about, I had a cold, and of course had not slept enough all week and was feeling very run down. It was also 105 in the shade on Saturday. And windy...more about the wind in a bit.

So now that the disclaimers have been made for my poor performance, let me tell you about the weekend. CCS had forgotten to put our USGPRU qualifying and races in the schedule for the weekend! The announcer called the racing organization something different with every announcement (USGPRA, USGPRAU, GPRSU....just on and on) and I paid for an extra practice session that I was never allowed to use because the race director was very, very confused about many things that weekend. I really needed that practice too. I had a hard time even reaching my previous best lap time I set in last November with a broken leg no less. I actually never quite hit that time all day.

We also had to qualify after 3 practice sessions on Saturday. Usually the qualifying is on the same day as the races, but not this time! It takes me about a day to get up to race pace on a track (which isn’t the mark of a great racer) So, I had to qualify after three sessions. But not before the wind blew my back protector and my SOCKS away! Third call for qualifying and I have no socks and no back protector. Now, I don’t know about you but I’d rather not get paralyzed in a crash, so if I didn’t find it I was going to be last on that grid. After some searching around I found one sock and my protector under the van, so with a bare foot in my boot I made it out for part of qualifying. Due to lack of practice time and the wind shenanegans, I was fighting myself to go faster before I was ready: my arms and legs were exhausted, *I* was exhausted, and could barely manage a 1:30 for qualifying. My goal was to get into the 26’s this weekend, and I was a long way away.

We ate at Outback Steakhouse, which I can barely remember, and I passed out by 9pm.

Sunday I felt much better, it was even a little cooler, but it was too late as we only had one 10 minute practice session before our race. I tried to get the most I could out of it but I felt like I needed a whole day of practice since yesterday had been pretty useless.

The USGPRU Race:
I got a pretty good start and was 5th into turn one. Mike Orien passed me shortly and I was 6th for much or the race. I saw Kirk Snell who was holding 5th up ahead (Mike had moved to 4th quickly) and for a couple laps was gaining on him, but I couldn’t get into a rhythm and relax, so I kept running wide and screwing up certain corners. The wind had picked up, and down the front straight into turn one was scary, as the 156 pound bike was getting blown around and off the line I was trying to hold. By this time Phillip Krenn was taunting me and showing me wheel for several laps.

I wasn’t about to let him by, but I did run wide in a corner and he got by me. I placed 7th in the race with a best time of 1:28.23, while the winner Josh Herrin was doing low 24s along with 2nd and 3rd. (A note on Herrin: he is 14, about 4’8” and reminds me of the photos of Tommy Hayden with the “Flyin Flea” leathers and the big glasses, although Herrin doesn’t sport glasses and his leathers are much cooler. I promise you he will be a big name in road racing. Go Josh!)

I had a little break before my next race, Lightweight GP, so I put on shorts and poured water on my head and relaxed, while the wind picked up steadily. It occurred to me that this would be my first Expert race with CCS, so while I usually podiumed in the amateur classes, I wondered what was going to happen today.

This race I fondly refer to as the SV challenge, because that is mostly what the grid consists of, although this time there was a nifty Yamaha 350 2-stroker ridden by Clinton Whitehouse. Let me make note to the uninformed: no matter how great a starter you are on a 125, and SV will blow your doors off at the green flag. And that is exactly what happened. I did manage to pass a few slow guys into turn one, and then moved through a few more until I hit a pack that wouldn’t pass each other. I had a tough time getting past one guy who had some great blocking moves (that bastard!), but finally did and he disappeared behind me quickly thereafter. I was catching the battle for 5th between an SV and that Yammie 350, and needed maybe one more lap, but the race was over.

After this there was a USGPRU awards ceremony. This organization has great sponsors and gives away prizes to random participants, special prizes for a “hard-charger” of the day, plus pays down to 6th place (I won some MotoPro tools and an apron! - Don’t get any ideas, it’s a mechanics apron!) They are also a great group of people, who take racing seriously but are also genuinely helpful and friendly. I cannot speak highly enough about this race organization and if anyone is interested in racing GP bikes, this is the highest level of competition you will find in the country, but it is also a great racing community.

Last race was the CCS 125 GP, which I won easily since there were only four entries. I used the race to make my way through the two races in front of ours, lightweight twins expert and amateur. I finally felt like I was getting into a rhythm and relaxing, but my times still did not drop. I am not sure what was going on this weekend, I know I pushed to go fast too soon and ended up fighting myself, but by Sunday’s last race I expected to be going faster. It just wasn’t coming. I am racing CA Speedway next weekend and Willow Springs the weekend after that. I hope I can break through this block!

I want to give very special thanks to JM, who did not race all weekend but instead worked hard as pit crew for me. Thank you so much. Next time I won’t make you wear short-shorts and a tube top, I promise.

Update added June 21st: I discovered what was wrong over this weekend and I guess it’s a consolation of sorts. We had changed shock springs to a little stiffer spring. Now, I thought the bike felt pretty great before, heck I had done my fastest times at WSIR ever and won the 125GP race there, so I had been really been looking forward to this race to see what my times would be since the last time I was here.

It seems my fork spring rate and my shock spring rate did not match, so it was recommended by several suspension companies and just about everyone else to stiffen up the rear. Now, to their credit, they just recommended the rate that technically should be best for my weight. I have had tons of problems riding the 250 because the fork springs are too stiff, however they are the recommended rate for my weight. No one wants to sell my anything lighter because it will be “too soft”.

Anyhow, we installed this new spring and the bumper thingy at the top went in cockeyed, severely limiting the travel. The sag also had not been set correctly (more like not at all) so it was extremly stiff. Both these things caused my bike to slide both tires everywhere and the bumps seemed to have gotten larger because they upset the bike so much! I had to wrestle the bike all weekend which wiped me out. It cost me a lot of disappointment and exhaustion, but I still dropped my laptimes and rode around that problem pretty well.

The warm up lap is finished, I took it medium paced. I moved into my spot on the hot asphalt grid. I am starting third in this race, based on championship points not on any qualifying session, so I am on the front row but staggard further behind than first and second place. The other bikes are slotting into their places beside and behind me.

I hook my toe under the gear lever and click it into first. I do not look at who is beside me, but I know who they are - of course. I also know that my start will be better than theirs. I am a good starter, probably my biggest strength. I fight the urge to pee. The starting grid is always when I feel like I need to pee. . My visor remains cracked open so I can breathe, it is so hot. Deep breath in as I watch the flag man holding the number board while standing mid track. I can hear the announcer speaking through my ear plugs and helmet, but do not focus on it, only his cadence so I know when he has stopped, signaling to the flag man he can show the yellow flag. Oh, the start is imminent. The other racers rev their engines beside me. I don’t do this but instead hold the clutch in and twist the throttle 3/4 open and hold it there, the throttle. I then release the throttle just enough to find the place in the clutch where the bike is about to pull away. I let it pull me, and hold the bike back with my feet, feeling the little mechanical animal ready to jump.

Eyes locked on the first corner, the starter moves to the side. I see the number board turning sideways, inhale deeply, roll the throttle all the way open against the stop and hold my breath until… the green flag waves wildly and I pop the clutch out, leaning on the gas tank to keep the front wheel down and move that power forward instead of up into a wheelie. My peripheral vision catches sight of the flag man as he leaps and waves the green flag, legs kicking as he jumps, while I pull on the throttle to keep it open and hang on. I shoot past the two riders gridded ahead of me, I have the hole shot. Turn one comes up fast and I choose a protective line so that riders braver than me, or at least better on the brakes, cannot squeeze past me (that is the hope anyway) on the inside of the corner or sneak a wheel in and shove me over.

I wait as long as my nerve allows before I get on the brakes…and growl inside my helmet when two riders show me a wheel and one gets in front of me. I know who they are, a fellow my age and a young gun. Mid corner, we all three get on the gas and I sneak up just beside my rival in front, and he leans on me, physically, on the corner exit, threatening to push me off the track if I hold my position. I must back off or we will end in a tangle of metal and fiberglass. He knows this too, so leans harder. I back off the gas and give him the space, flustered. I will not let him pull away.

Meanwhile, the young gun in front of us both has gained about a 2 second gap. We gave that to him while we had our shoulder to shoulder encounter in that first corner. I curse the rider my age. For the dirty intimidation move and for letting the kid get ahead of us.

This was only the first corner. There are many more for each of the six laps to come…

The group rode through olive and cork orchards, through pueblos blancos, and along the southern coast. I noted construction absolutely everywhere we went in Spain. Every town and city had cranes and construction and dust. I also remember being bewildered at how slippery the roads were. It took me 20 years to finally realize the reason why - it was olive oil on the roads! We rode all around olive groves and for decades, trucks dropped the little fruits all over the roads, making them slick as..well, an oiled road.

We also road our streetbikes offroad more than a few times, due to the construction happening absolutely everywhere.

We rode all day, usually stopping in a picturesque mountain spot for a picnic lunch, to arrive at our next destination in the afternoon where we would sightsee a little before a group dinner.

And then there were the races. The weekend in Jerez is worth noting for the magnitude of the event in the area, and the chaos surrounding it. It began hours outside the city and days ahead of the race, with fans cheering each group of motorycles on the highway heading toward Jerez.

Once there, the hotels in the surrounding villages were full of riders. The racetrack campgrounds were packed and we witnessed the fabled noisemaking at the campsite in person. Motors on blocks were amplified by bullhorns. Firecrackers were set off constantly - and in large quantities. Motors of all manner of vehicle revved, while people played guitars, sang, yelled, and made as much noise as possible for the entire weekend. And they made not only noise, they also made smoke. Colored, billowing, and rather constant, from what produced it I still don’t know. I had not witnessed anything like it before nor since.

In the nearby town, we observed children riding helmetless on two-stroke scooters, 2 and 3 at a time, through the narrow cobblestone streets. There was a helmet law there in the south, but we watched these bare-headed children ride right past policemen who did not bat an eye.

It rained on race day, and the traffic to get to the track got so bad that cars gave up trying to get to the there. Instead, they parked on the side of the road in the mud and eventually in the middle of the roads, while people left their cars to walk or ride motorcyles and scooters, and even horses, to get to the track. Outside of the track, the hills filled with people who wanted to watch without tickets.

Fans filled the stands under the rain, using umbrellas, helmets, tarps, or nothing at all. The sound and the energy of the races overtook everything, and the after the two-stroke classes were off the asphalt, the big bikes could be identified on track by their sound alone: Honda and Yamaha’s big bang engines, Kawasaki’s screamer engine, Ducati’s 16 valve twin pulse, and Aprilia’s Cube.

I recall the race winner to this day because of the way the announcer roared his name - Sete Gibernau. His gravelly voice yelling over the loudspeaker as the Spanish rider walked to the top spot of the podium in the air (up on a bridge I recall). Biaggi and Barros were 2nd and 3rd.

As an aside, looking back at who was racing that year, I want to mention those riders who have since died: Norick Abe came in 10th, Nicky Hayden was disqualified (if anyone remembers why, please comment) and Marco Simoncelli won the 125cc race that year.

I would visit this track many more times, years later. To ride, to spectate, to network when I very first arrived to live in Spain, and to work in MotoGP itself. It never came close to the chaos of that Grand Prix in 2004, though I am told that in decades past it was even more unhinged.

In contrast with the Jerez GP, the next weekend we spent at the Le Mans GP. JM and I drove a rental car to France the following weekend after the tour concluded, staying in a castle hotel and driving 30 minutes without incident to the track each day. It lacked all of the chaos and calamity of Jerez, but at this race we watched from the Aprilia garages, guests of the team thanks to JM’s job at the same company.

We rode a scooter around the track after hours, and observed our racing heros up close and personally. Shane Byrne and Jeremy McWilliams were the riders for the team, which was not really ready yet for the premier class, the brand. They did just fine in 125cc and 250cc, but the bike bikes were still very much in the developomental phase. At some point during the weekend, Valentino Rossi passed the garages and asked the crew when Aprilia would have a good motorcyle for him, the Italian wanting to represent his home country on the make of bike he raced.

Looking back, those three weeks feel like the kind of trip you only fully appreciate after life moves in directions you never could have predicted. At the time, I was mostly thinking about how slippery the roads were, how loud Jerez was, and how often we ended up off-roading on motorcycles that were very clearly street bikes (I even dropped that Suzuki SV1000 once at a slippery stop). But now, all that chaos feels like part of the charm. E

Jerez was so spectacularly unhinged it made me question whether humanity should be trusted with gasoline, while Le Mans was refined enough to make me suspect the French had invented a machine to suppress enthusiasm. Through all of it was JM—making jokes and friends, trying the strangest food we could find (not all of it good) and riding on ahead of me and everyone else because he waited for no one once he was on a two-wheeled machine.

And of course, there was the time with my father and brother. At the time, it felt like an unexpected family field trip with better scenery and worse traction. I didn’t know then that it would be the one and only time we’d do something like that together. Now those miles with them feel like a small miracle: dusty, noisy, ridiculous, awesome.

JM has been gone eighteen years as I write this, but in these stories he’s still there—helmet in hand and a grin on his face. That honeymoon was everything our life together was: unpredictable, slightly hazardous, occasionally absurd, and unforgettable.

APRIL 17-18, 2004 WSMC

Ah, the much maligned practice day. Many a racer has bitched and moaned about how little time they get, how slow the other people are in their group, how slick the track is in the morning and how windy it is in the evening. They’re probably all correct, but the lowly practice day, for all its annoying foibles, is better than the alternative, which for me this month, was working.

Little,Big Racing is in a mini slump when it comes to bike prep. Once again, all the things I wanted to get accomplished in terms of setup and tuning didn’t happen. It’s a busy time at work and we were getting some work done on the garage, all of which seem like flimsy excuses for not getting it done. So, once again forks that weren’t right, stock handlebars, stock motor, unpainted bodywork, etc. I did, however, replace the ghetto silver duct tape with white tape, and safety wired the grips in place. Very Nice.

Racing without practice, when the last time I rode was a month ago wasn’t my idea of the hot ticket. I drove in late Saturday and got to the track early Sunday to feverishly change tires and get post-entered (don’t ask). First warm-up session consisted of three laps on cold tires (no chance for warmers, some little s*%t heads stole our generators) and then in to contemplate the errors of my ways. I had a decent second session, but decided to make a geometry change to try and help band-aid the fork issues. I know that changing your bike right before a race is dumb, but seeing as how I was desperate to try and improve the beast, I thought things wouldn’t likely be worse. I lengthened the shock and went out for the Formula Twins grid.

At least this time I wasn’t bleeding as I lined up on the front row, so that was something. I did get a decent start and watched Claudio pull away. Time for some more horsepower! Actually, if the bike is right and I do my part, I think I may be able to play with Claudio soon, but as it was he slowly pulled a gap and I busily tried to high-side myself out of half of the corners at WSIR. Turn 2, check. Turn 4, check. Turn 8, check. It seems that I went too far on the shock adjustment, and had no grip whatsoever. Ritchie Headley came up and I diced with him for the second half of the race, finishing just off his rear wheel at the line for third. Oh well, at least some solid points. Wait until next time ya young punk! (Actually, he rode very well on a fast new 749R, congrats Ritchie).

After a hasty change to shorten the shock a little, I chilled in the pits and waited for my other race, the last expert race of the day. BOTT Heavyweight consisted of only four riders and more importantly, Claudio and the Headley clan were absent. I got a great start and took off for a couple of corners. Then I just cruised around and collected more points for a relatively easy victory. Hurry back Simon, we missed ya.

Well, Peanut and I are off on our honeymoon, and we’ll see y’all at the May WERA West round in Vegas. Ciao!

Thanks to Peanut for general handiness, and Rich for letting us use power from his generator; Ca Race Services for the great Pirelli’s, and a pox upon the thieves that helped themselves to our stuff.

The weekend started out grimly but turned around, and by Sunday, I had my first victory at this track, Willow Springs Raceway, “the fastest track in the west” as it was referred to then.

April 17-18, 2004 WSMC

Sometimes all the harbingers of doom are just tests of your determination. Let’s count all of the foretokens that were telling me to crawl back into bed for the weekend:

1. You will recall, my faithful readers, that I badly needed new fork springs for my 250. Suffice it to say that they had not yet been replaced.

2. I never ordered my 125 rear shock spring. It is a mystery to me why I can’t get around to doing that.

3. I had no generator for the weekend. My thieving punk neighbors decided they’d liberate us of both of our generators, as well as a SikkBike scooter and an Aprilia Electric bike. (The Sikk Bike and one generator were broken and needed to be thrown away, so I guess they saved us some hauling costs. We have a lot of broken useless crap in our garage)

4. We were up until 2:30am building a freakin’ trailer.

5. I packed shorts and flip-flops for the weekend and it rained on the drive up to Rosamond and half the day on Saturday.

6. Practice: My first session out, the 125 was running very rich. Of course I didn’t bring the tuner chart telling me which jet to use at 50 degrees Farenheit.

7. I discovered an oil leak on my 250 as I was about to leave for middleweight practice session.

8. JM had to work Saturday and had the good toolbox with him.

So how in the world did this turn around?

First of all, club racers are the best folks there are. Our buddy’s Rich and Oz let me leach power off of them. Rob let me borrow his tools to fix (yes fix!) my 250. Second, sometimes you just need another set of eyes because you are not lookijng for the obvious. Quentin Wilson from Apex Predator Racing, the sponsor of the 125 class noticed my choke was on and asked if I taken the 125 out in practice with it like that. Doh! Third, those bikes vibrate and rattle a lot when you are flogging them, and things come loose. The 250 lower cylinder bolts that held the part where the header enters the cylinder were loose. I tightend those down and voila! No leak.

Saturday seemed to turn completely around and things were rather rosy. JM made it in time for dinner and we ate with 20 other races at Ramon’s mexican restaurant, got to know a couple people a bit better. We discovered Mark Watts, the veteren 250 racer and darn quick chap, had raced the Isle of Man Manx GP seven times! He even placed 7th once.

The sun came out for us on Sunday. We were sporting our new Little,Big Team T-shirts, we were sapping power off Rich, and Josh Hayes made it out to race a few races and entertain the WSMC crowd.

First race for me was the Aprilia Cup Challenge. I was 9th on the grid and got a good start, not the fantastic start I got last month but pretty decent. I think I was in fourth place into turn one. I passed a rider on the entrance to two and then caught up to Reuben Archillia. I went around him on the outside and he pushed it to not let me get past, but now have a super-secret turn two strategy that put me ahead of him at the exit. I then had Patrick Tracy and Mike Pastore ahead of me. I could close the gap a bit through 3-4-5 but turn 8 and the straightway killed me. I need to change the gearing on this bike since now I am pinned in sixth for all of turn 7-8 and the front straight.

My forks were a bit better this month but I’m ordering springs because I very nearly crashed again in turn four: right on that bastard little seam in the pavement that chucked me in February. My front end bounced off it while leaned all the way over and thankfully the tire caught instead of tucking and I finished the race in third place. According to those watching I had a big lead on fourth place although I certainly need to close the gap between second and first.

The 125GP race was the next race. I was on the pole with 11 starters in the race. I got a great start and lead into turn one. Then, like a bad re-run of last month, Kevin Murray shot past me at the entrance to turn three. I was right on his tail all the way through turn 8 when a colossal gust of win just about blew all the 125’s off the track. The riders behind us said it was eerie watching everyone shift three feet to the outside in an instant and then feeling it hit them a fraction of a second later. This lone wind gust was the talk of the weekend for the 125GP racers. I passed Kevin on the straight since I not only have a super secret strategy for turn two, but for turn nine as well! I hear later he pulled off but give me some glory here, I passed him, ok? Anyhow, I saw no other 125 bikes but did pass quite a few 250 racers and even a couple of twins racers who were in the first wave. I crossed the finish line quite excited: my first win at Willow! Roadracing World even mentioned it in their article. (Ok, so it isn’t as exciting as Jeremy Toye beating Josh Hayes twice that weekend but for me it was a moment to remember). I don’t have lap times but I’m SURE I dropped at least a second and a half off my times, thanks to my ultra-coveted, classified, enigmatical turn 2 and 9 strategies, putting me in the 1:30 lap times.

Thanks to Rich and Oz for letting us mooch power all weekend and eat your string cheese. Thanks Brienne Thompson for the use of your canopy again!

MARCH 20-21, 2004 WSMC

Roadracing is a funny sport. It helps to be small in stature; weight robs horsepower, makes it harder to transition, that sort of thing. Fitness is very important. While you don’t have to be an Olympic class athlete, being in good shape helps you handle the stress of pushing the bike around, makes it much easier to hang on and keeps you from getting fatigued as quickly. Ultimately though, it’s a mind game. Hemingway said something like there are only two real sports: Bullfighting and motor racing. While I don’t want to argue with Papa, after all who can count how many times they’ve gotten caught up in a good bull fight (I just LOVE their little outfits!), roadracing is probably a whole lot more akin to golf.

I discovered this fact during the March Formula Twins race at Willow Springs Raceway. I should preface that by saying the bike had benefitted from a larger airbox since the last WERA round, but was basically unchanged beyond that. Setup and prep consisted of removing 10 CCs of oil from each fork leg, checking tire pressure and making sure there was good ‘ole 91 octane pump gas in the tank. No new fangled race fuel for me. Yet. Some chain lube, checked the major fastener, and we were ready. Or at least the bike was.

The weather was much hotter than I’ve become accustomed to. So far every race weekend has been mild and very pleasant. I’m now worried about my sanity come summer, as this weekend in spring it was ninety some degrees. My pre-race ritual was sitting in the shade and drinking water out of a gallon jug like I was in some bizarre peeing contest. Now I know why all the old timers out there look like they’ve been cured in an oven. It’s because, well, they’ve been cured in an oven.

Practice went well, and I felt like even with the much higher track temperatures, I was faster than last month. The bike was turning better than last month, but I’ll need some softer fork springs to make it really handle. For now I’m just riding around it. I could tell that the temperature was taking its toll on the rear tire, which was left from last weekend at Ca Speedway, so I worked on some lines but came in early from most of the sessions. Saturday after practice California Race Services mounted a new set of Pirelli Slicks with a different front tire profile and Britt and I headed for dinner.

Sunday morning we arrived at our pits and found our buddy Pat McGill already there. It was cool to have him down from Portland for the weekend, but a little bittersweet as his ‘04 Aprilia RSV1000 Factory looked perfectly painted and prepared, a departure from my white gel coat RSVR with duct tape on it. I’m looking forward to my new bodywork and paint job. I took it pretty easy in the warm ups, as I wanted to save as much rear tire as possible for my races later in the day. The new tire profile was even better, and everything felt a notch above where it’s been so far.

Now, back to my Formula Twins race. I normally try to hang back a little when they wave us out for the sight-in lap, which allows me to run hard, get the tires heated evenly, and not wait a long time on the starting grid. I did this and after negotiating most of the track, accelerated hard from turn five, shifted to fourth as I aimed it at turn six, grabbed fifth gear and then relaxed and started to roll off the throttle once I turned in to turn eight and notched it into sixth gear. Everyone starts to slow for turn nine and then coast to the grid, so I normally just chill through turn eight. I relaxed a little too much, however, and didn’t press hard enough on the shift lever. The transmission hung between gears and I free-wheeled into turn eight going 145 MPH. This gets your attention I can assure you, but I remember thinking “No big deal, I’ll just grab the clutch and reselect sixth gear. Let me stop you right here dear reader and tell you that if you ever find a false neutral, do NOT think about pulling the clutch, pull it IMMEDIATELY! Before I engaged the clutch, the bike snicked into gear on its own. Even with the slipper clutch on the Aprilia, you can’t fool Isaac Newton. Objects that are at rest (the motor idling) tend to stay and rest and objects that are in motion (my rear wheel going 140 MPH) tend to stay that way. I’ll save the physics lesson for another day and say that the rear wheel slowed down dramatically, while the bike didn’t. This resulted in a textbook high-side saved mostly by the slipper clutch and my death grip on the bars as I got pitched into the air.

Turn eight at Willow Springs is pretty darn exciting all on its own. Normally I’m in that corner at a 145 or 150 and dragging my boot and my knee. unbelievably, this isn’t nearly as exciting as flying along above your motorcycle just attached by your two hands. When I fell back my left leg was draped over the seat and my right leg was dragging on the ground under the motorcycle, luckily in front of the rear wheel. My initial surprise at not cart wheeling down the road was quickly replaced by a feeling of supreme urgency, as the asphalt grinding against my boot made quick work of the leather and in a millisecond was making even quicker work of the skin on my foot. I managed to tear my leg out from under the bike and once properly mounted, took a little survey of my right foot.

I could see bloody skin through two holes in the boot, and some white gristle looking stuff as well. I’ll admit that my enthusiasm for the upcoming race was diminishing pretty rapidly. The problem was I was on the pole for the race, being the points leader, and I really didn’t want to lose all the points by not starting. My foot felt like someone was polishing their technique with a blow torch, but there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of blood, the friction of the asphalt nicely cauterizing the wound it seemed. So, I did what any normal road racer would do. I just lined up on the grid.

I didn’t get a great start, as I was still trying (quite unsuccessfully) to put the whole affair out of my mind. I managed to overtake a couple of guys in turn one and slotted into second behind Claudio. I knew he was probably faster than I could run so far, and just tried to hang with him and not think about my toe. This is where I learned about the golf connection. Now my injury wasn’t really affecting my physical ability, but I was having a difficult time concentrating, and I made one little mistake after another. This allowed another bike to close on my and I ended up fighting for second place instead of just running consistent laps on my own. I got passed, took the place back, passed again, and was going to take it back again when the race was red-flagged. I certainly was capable of running faster, but my head wasn’t really in the game. As it was lap five of six, the race was over. After going back a lap, I was awarded second place. Here’s the funny part. Even though I didn’t have my “A” game on, I ran faster lap times than I’ve run so far, running a few laps in the 1:27s.

I got back, and took my boot off and checked out the damage. No tendon or bone damage, just some mangled skin and a serious friction burn. Patrick was leaving and offered to loan me his boots, to allow me to get some points in the other class I am leading, so I took him up on it and wrapped my foot in gauze after cleansing it and chilled until the end of the day, when BOTT Heavyweight took to the track. As there were only six riders in the field, I figured I could get some decent points without being at my best and just planned to be nice and conservative. I lined up in position 2 as I am tied for the points lead in this class and waited for the green flag. Simon, with whom I’m tied in points, crashed in Formula Twins and didn’t make the race (glad you’re ok). I got a good start and lead going into turn one. I just tried to run my own race and be consistent, and managed to build a little lead over the next two laps. Then I just put it on cruise and kept the cushion until the checkered flag. Another win for Little,Big Racing!

I’d like to thank:

• Britt for helping me with my foot and general support.

• Ca Race Services for hooking me up with the new profile and general help.
  Pirelli for serious race rubber.

• Pat McGill for the loan of his boots. They’ve been fumigated, disinfected, and they’re on their way back. Also for allowing us to share his pit area.

I was still racing two bikes - that was fun, I prefered it, but the set up and maintanence on two bikes was proving hard to keep up with. I still had not gotten this 250 suspension correct, and it was a slower bike that the 125 - when the little bike was ridden properly. I think it was this race I was quite far along in becoming enamored with that 125.

So this particular spring weekend in the desert held a crowd of sunburned, half-drunk racers, suspension problems that required divine intervention, a dusting of chaos, and a little bit of hope in a couple of the races. In other words, just one more classic WSMC weekend.

MARCH 20-21,2004 WSMC
With no time to regroup from the previous weekend’s races, we were off again. This time to round three at WSMC

The weather report said 78 degrees, so like a fool I listened to it and packed jeans and T-shirts, even a long sleeved T-shirt for chilly mornings. Why do I forget this is the high desert in March? It was over 90 all weekend long. I have new leathers and I have not experienced them in the heat (oh, and this is merely a teaser for the summer 110 degree days). Well, let me say one word: Black. Black helmet, black leathers, black bike. Why.

We arrive to join our friend Pat McGill down from Oregon, with the pits already set up for us. Rich from San Diego was all by his lonesome and joined us for much of the weekend. Rich was quite the fashion statement all weekend with shorts, socks and sandals - one of my most favorite looks.

Half-day practice went off without a hitch, although the suspension on the 250 still felt scary. It sort of worked at CA Speedway the previous weekend, but not for Willow Springs speed and that bumpy-ass track. I had Phil from Lee’s cycle wrench on my suspension at the end of Saturdays practice and hoped for the best for Sunday morning.

We went to dinner and joined a large group of WSMC hooligans at a nearby mexican restaurant. Everyone already looked sunburned and tired and had clearly been drinking (as per usual, apparently) and were well into the race stories and gossip. One of my favorite things about club racing is the people that are dedicated to it. There is a lot of camaraderie and respect around racing. We joined the frivolity and story telling and had a great night.

Sunday practice: I ride in two practice groups since I have two bikes. Unbelievably, the lightweight practice is far faster than the middleweight practice. In fact, middleweight practice is so slow I compare it to the Intermediate group at a trackday. Just clots of people in every corner, so I practice passing large groups and it seems to help. I cannot get up to speed to test the new 250 suspension set up, so I leave it as is.

First race for me is the Aprilia Cup Challenge. I am 6th on the grid and get a great start. I lead into turn one and feel pretty confident until I get to the middle of turn two and the bike feels like it’s going to tuck. Now, dear reader, I know you read diligently these reports so I know you remember last months WSMC report. You will recall I crashed because I tucked the front on this bike, in this race. Well. I had to back off a bit in turn 2,4 and 8. I did manage to hold third place until Rueben Archilla snuck inside of me in turn 8 (nice move by the way). I drafted him up the straight but he crossed the start/finish line first. Next month, my little friend, I get this suspension sorted and I kill!

The 125GP race was the next race. I was gridded second and had a decent start but nothing like last months start. I was second into turn one and was passed by Kevin Murray halfway through the first lap. Then John Hjelm shot through everyone and I was in forth, watching Kevin and a new kid, Michael Beck, battle it out. We hit the 250 slower traffic and I didn’t skip a beat getting through, which is new for me. Kevin and “the kid” were paying attention to each other so I snuck around both of them in turn 8, going around the outside of both of them! Then I put the hammer down—only exhaling while excelerating because I squeezed the tank so hard with my knees while on the brakes that I was holding my breath—because I knew I’d have to outrun Kevin. I thought he was behind me the entire time, turns out a short while later his bike conked out. I started chasing down John Hjelm who had a terrific lead, but 6 laps wasn’t enough to catch up, so I placed second.

We finished the day with getting evicted from our pits, since Pat packed up his toys and went home due to an electrical problem. We moved to the sliver of shade provided by Rich’s trailer and JM finished one more race with a foot that resembled hamburger (see his race report for the gore).

We stayed one more night to get some track time in on Monday, and scored a garage. The only reason why I am even mentioning this is that the picture to the right (editors note: now below) is so nice and I needed to qualify it. Next races not for another three weeks! We can use the break.

Thanks CRS Tires for the Pirelli’s, thank you Phil from Lee’s Cycle for crawling around in the dirt and heat to set up my suspension, and thanks JM for not laughing when I put my wheel on backwards.

2004 was a golden stretch. My life felt wide open, racing gave me purpose, and every weekend carried the possibility of something extraordinary. The opportunities—business and otherwise—that racing opened up appeared endless. I had a day job of course, one I liked very much and was good at (and I still am in this same career). I seriously considered changing my line of work to become a helicoptor pilot that year, but decided to focus as much attention as possible on motorcycle racing. (18 years later, I did begin helicoptor piloting lessons, but that is another story.)

It was all good or all bad, but even the catastrophies were thrilling in their unpredictability. Ridiculous things happened that could later be catagorized as type III fun - things you may not have enjoyed in the moment but spend the rest of your life talking about. There are many of these moments in the race reports. The Big Crash; when JM wounded and simultaneously cautorized his foot by dragging his boot on the asphalt, wearing it through all the way to his skin during a race; absurd patch jobs on bikes after crashes or just to pass tech inspection; these have been covered in published posts so far but there are so many more to come. It’s what all the club racers without a team to watch over every little detail experience. We were all sort of winging it, John-Mark, myself, and 90% of those we were racing with and against.

But alongside that joy and the type III fun is the ache of hindsight—knowing how fragile it all really was. Little did I know what was coming. There are friends metioned in these publications who aren’t here anymore, or not like they were on these pages anyway—lives cut short in crashes, bodies broken and never healed, other tragedies that ruined them. Their names and faces are part of all these stories.

Still, there were more years of joy on the horizon—and I’m bringing you along for the ride.

Britt and I headed up to Fontana pulling a trailer with the RSVR on it and her two bikes inside. It was nice not to have to take the generator, as the pits at Cal Speedway are positively palatial and come with all the amenities. When we got to the track Saturday morning there were huge lines for pre-entry. It was costly, but actually better to be in the post-entry lines. I’d like to say here that I’m very grateful to Dave and the Fastrack gang for bringing WERA down here, and know that it’ll take a few meetings to get all the kinks out. However, Saturday morning was a mess. Britt missed half of her practices just waiting in line.

I rushed to get my first session in and headed out onto the track sweating and harried. It was immediately clear that I’ll need to get the fork thing handled before I race next. I’m starting to get my racing legs back and figure out what I need the bike to do. Right now It’s not really finishing the corner, and I’ll need to make some changes at the front to allow that to happen. On the other hand, the shock is as good as any I’ve ever used; the rear end really feels great.

I got three practice sessions in, the first shortened because of a red flag. Not a whole lot of seat time. In the afternoon, Peanut raced the solo race and I just did pit crew duty. I got to ride the pit bike around and root for Britt. It was a lot of fun. I applied thread locker to my left footpeg that kept coming loose and goofed off.

Sunday morning we got a couple more practice sessions before racing started around noon. My first race was 750SB. I was gridded WAAAAY back and didn’t get a great start. It was a very competitive group that I race just to improve, and I ended up with a fast lap of 1:37.61 and eighth place. I actually felt better about the race than the final position might indicate as I’m steadily improving. I felt like as soon as I’m able to improve the bike set-up just a little bit I’ll be able to make a couple of big gains in performance. I think there’s two seconds a lap in improvements with just a little work, which would catapult me up in the standings.

My final race was the Heavyweight Twins Superbike race. There were six of us on the race, 5 experts and 1 novice. We were gridded in a waved start with the 600 Superbike race. By that time, the races had been shortened to six laps, which was ok since I’ve only recently started working out--Cal Speedway is a tiring track for us out-of-shape-moose types. After some confusion about grid positions, where I was told to grid in the third position instead of the first, the flag dropped. I got the holeshot and rode hard to about corner four; not hearing anyone behind me, I turned to look. There was absolutely no one. I kept waiting for a red flag to come out, thinking maybe there was a big shunt behind me, but no. I’m pretty sure it was the first time I’ve ever run away far enough to just hang out by myself. It felt pretty wierd, but I notched it down and just cruised around to the checkered flag. It was a little strange, but I’ll take it. A runaway win, whoulda thunk? On to WSMC round 3.

Thanks to California Race Services. The Pirelli’s are so good I ran the same set I used at Willow last month. Incredible.

Thanks to Airtech for helping with the dam on the 125 lower and general support. New bodywork soon (with a proper paintjob)! Welcome to our new sponsor Motul. Can’t wait to start using the product again.

MARCH 13-14, WERA West / USGPRU

The US Grand Prix Riders Union is the officially recognized 125GP and 250GP US National Championship series. This year there are five races on the West coast and a championship between East and West in Virginia. I decided to run 4 of the 5 (only because I will be in Spain at the Jerez GP during one of them, otherwise I’d do them all). Last year I did one USGPRU race, my first race ever, the second time I ever rode a two stroke...Clearly I wasn’t ready for the competition level in this organization. This year though, I thought I’d jump in and see where I stand amongst the fastest 125 racers in the nation. I brought my Aprilia 250 as well, for a couple WERA races.

This was also the inaugural WERA West race for the new series. We were excited and appreciative that FasTrack and Dave Pyles brought the series to the West coast. Only the AMA raced this track previously, so most of the racers were new to this track.

California Speedway has the plushest garage pits in the nation: There is electricity, air, tables and TV in every garage. Saturday morning there was a photo shoot for a poster I was supposed to be in at the Speedway, and the girls in the shoot held a garage for us. We arrived just before 7:30 giving me a little bit of time to participate. Or so I thought. Practice started at 9am...we had to register and tech and we were good to go. JM stood in line and I joined the girls for some photos, only to arrive as JM was leaving the registration line. Then I stood in line for an HOUR and a HALF. There were fewer than 15 people in front of me. I decided NOT to take this as an omen and actually made it to three practice sessions: One on the 125 (consisting of 2 whole laps) and two one the 250. Then the races began!

USGPRU holds qualifying races for grid positions. Usually it is 20 minutes, this was shortened to 15. I qualified terribly as I had no idea which gear I was supposed to be in where on the track... subsequently I was gridded 15th out of 19. Not so hot. One of the regular USGPRU racers even said “oh well, at least you are out here”. SHeeesh.

Then I had a 16 lap Lightweight Solo race on my 125 that helped a lot. I placed second behind Bradley Adams (WSMC fast guy’s kid). I was getting progressively faster until around lap 11 where I then got progressively slower because my stick-on seat started un-sticking and rolling forward. The glue stayed on the seat and THAT stuff is STICKY. Everytime I went to hang off, what should be a split second move took around two seconds because I first had to unstick my butt from the seat and then move. Plus the seat rolled all the way forward and made a lump right under my crotch so I couldn’t sit on the bike properly. I was laughing as this was happening because it was so ridiculous, but there was nothing I could do to fix it. I had a good lead on third place so I could afford to slow down in that respect, although it kind of shot my lap times.

Sunday went far smoother. We did not have to tech again and made the two practice sessions. My races were numbers 3, 8 and 15. Race three was D SuperBike and the grid was tiny. I placed second on my 250 but had forgotten to move my transponder from my 125 to this bike and was almost disqualified, but instead they gave me fourth (last) place so at least I got some points.

The Big Race

Race number 8 was the big race for me, with nineteen 125s on the grid and some of the fastest guys in the nation to contend with for 14 laps on a 2.5 mile course. I was gridded row 7, way behind the pole. I put the hammer down for the practice lap to get my head into it and got a great start: I was 5th into turn one! Halfway through the first lap I was passed by a one of the fast guys and on lap two, Josh Herrin, who won the race, passed me. My bike felt great, and earlier JM had noted where I could go faster on my 250, so I used those tactics on my 125 and they sped me way up. I could see Jeff Lim who is a pretty quick guy and I started chasing him down. I passed him going into turn 3, a 180 left hander and held sixth position for a while until around lap 10, where I felt my tires start to go.

You can’t slide tires on a 125 like you can on bigger bikes. There isn’t the horsepower to hook them up again, so it is likely you will get launched into a huge highside when your tires start going. Needless to say, I slowed down some even though I didn’t want to. I got passed back by Lim and number 182, and then slowed even more but placed 8th. I had dropped my lap times 4 seconds from my best practice lap and 6 seconds from qualifying! Considering a year ago in this race at Streets of Willow I was lapped twice by the front runners, and that this is my first expert year, mid pack was a respectable finish and I feel like I am back on track to getting faster. The last 6th months I haven’t gotten any faster because my crash and bike problems, though I think this is a turning point.

My last race was D Superstock, and I placed second on a small grid. I ran the same lap times as the winner on a few laps but I still have not come to terms with this 250. I changed the front profile tire and that helped, changed the gearing, made some suspension changes, but overall it’s a slow bike. I will keep running it this year because I think it will make me ride harder and will help my riding overall.

I want to thank CRS Tires for the Pirellis for my 250, working on finding the leak in the front tire, and general niceness :) Brienne Thompson for sticking around all day Saturday after the photo shoot and helping me with tire changing and teching my bikes. And finally, Dr.Know for working on my bike Saturday night with a growling stomach, and all the coaching on turn 5!