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| February
13-15 WSMC After round one was in the bag, I planned on finishing the work on my brand-spanking new racebike. On the list: gearing changes, full race bodywork, paint, rearsets allowing footpeg adjustment and GP shift pattern, Light wheels, Airbox work, free flowing aircleaner, re-mapping of the fuel injection for race gas, spanky race master cylinder, some simple weight reduction, and a host of other necessary changes to make my hot rod more competitive. Astute readers will be aware that this is a somewhat time consuming list. Friday morning at the track I had done the following: Replaced master cylinder, fixed foppy tail section. Umm, and polished my windscreen. So, I decided (in the best of club racing traditions) to ride it like it was. Friday was cold, and by the time we set up the pits and got the bikes ready, two possible sessions had passed. It seemed like a waste of tracktime, but I noticed all the veterens lazing around without a real sense of urgency. Once on the track I figured out why in fairly short order. Write this down; ultra cold track equals no grip. My tires barely got warm and it was more like ice skating than race practice. It felt like I was spinning the back tire everywhere. I just operated on the premise that it would be like practicing for the end of those races where you should have bought another set of tires but the checkbook was pounded flat. Peanut ran a couple of the same sessions I did, and when we came in, mentioned that I was spinning the rear tire so much that in some corners there was so much tire smoke it looked like my Aprilia was on fire. I confess, I thought that was pretty cool. |
 I went so fast I tore the numbers. Honest. |
| After practice was over I set about
swapping my rotors to the new
wheels, changing the gearing and doing a once over. We left after dark,
with very cold fingers and a huge appetite. I think we ordered one of
everything on the menu at Wendy's, and then went to sleep. As you can
probably tell, during the race season we follow a strict diet and
excercise regiment. Saturday practice was much better, with the track quite a bit warmer and new tires. The gearing was a little frustrating. I hadn't gotten a chance to get the rearsets installed, and was still using standard shift pattern. With the new gearing, I could tell that faster lap times would just make things better and better, but at my current speeds it seems a little tall coming out of some of the corners. The third to fourth shift between turn five and six I was now making like everyone else, but it was VERY awkward. It was pretty cool to be able to use sixth gear, though. This year, I'm trying the reasoned approach to racing, and so far I have to say I'm impressed. I feel like I'm racing myself, and will be happy with steady measured improvement thoughout the year. By the end of the day, my butt-ometer was telling me I was more consistant and a second or so faster than the previous month. Hopefully by March I'll have an onboard lap timer and won't have to rely so much on such a notoriously dodgy device as the cheeky-stopwatch. Late in the afternoon I got to sample some of the stiff winds I've heard so much about. Gale force winds that change abruptly at 150 MPH with you knee on the ground isn't my idea of a good time. I think to be really fast at Willow Springs you have to be a few cards short of a full deck. The fact that I'm working hard at becoming fast at Willow probably tells you all you need to know about me. |
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| Sunday
was one of those rare winter days that was sunny, still and
warm. Britt was up first in her first race on the Aprilia RS250 and we
made a super rookie mistake. It's all in her race report, but I should
have known better. Needless to say, I was glad she was hopping mad but
physically ok and hoped that it wouldn't be some sort of omen. My first race was Formula Twins, and my plan was to get a good start and not get to worked up over trying to stay with guys that are clearly faster than I am at this stage. I got a decent start, didn't wimp out in turn one, and went into turn two in second place. I was being held up a little and while politely waiting for a better opportunity, got passed. Damn, third place. Mental note, polite and expert racing do not go together, much like jumbo shrimp. After a few turns both of us passed first and I was back in second again. I then found a decent spot and made a pass stick. Viola, first place. I managed a little gap and was feeling very surprised at how things were going when someone went by going quite a bit faster than I was. Now I know that some of the results listed that someone as Jeff Tigert, riding a Suzuki SV 650. Well, while I may not be a superstar at Willow just yet, Jeff was on a borrowed Ducati Tamburini-style superbike thank you very much. He checked out and I rode around until a red flag on lap five, claiming second place. It felt great and right now, podiums are more than I can expect, so yea! Since Peanut was racing on the same grid but in a different wave, I didn't get a chance to find out what kind of laptimes I'm turning yet. I'd guess that I ran some laps in the high 1:28s, comparing myself to others with lap timers. Jeff wasn't entered in BOTT Heavyweight, so I started thinking that I had a shot at winning my other race. OK, that was dumb, but it still entered my mind. I lined up on the front row, got another ok start, and was in the lead by turn three. I immediately started thinking about just taking it easy and getting the win. These are thoughts I should be having four months from now. After two laps, my buddy Paul Lima came shooting by (damn I shouldn't have told him to enter the class!). I quickly realized I wasn't ready to hang with him and started thinking about second place. Of course, I then got passed by another Ducati (good job Simon), and while I was right there at the flag, couldn't take the place back. So, third place. Taking a step back, I'm happy with the results for the weekend, but I sure would have liked another lap! Oh well, all in one piece and on to round three. I'll take it. Thanks To: California Race Services. The tires are so much better than I am it's not even funny. Jerry, where are my patches? Peanut: The sexiest mechanic in the pits (when you're not racing). |
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