morbidelli17
Sat 3/29/08, 12:15PM
When we showed up on Saturday afternoon, the weather was deteriorating, and my mood quickly followed. Andy, Pete and the West Coast GP Cycles crew had sent Silver to the gym, made her eat Wheaties and massaged her hindquarters, and it felt strong as hell coming out of the pits.
But on the back straight it just died, cutting out and coughing at full throttle. Andy took it out for a spin, and it did the same thing to him (I always have someone double-check, because often the problem is in my head). So he and Pete messed with jetting and plugs; it’s the only motor of its type in the world, and we’re feeling our way along as we go.
The minute I got onto the back straight on Sunday morning and opened the throttle I knew things would be good. The bike was fast as hell, stable and responsive. It felt racy and so did I.
First race, West Coast GP Cycles Formula Twins Lightweight, I got up into the battle for 4th with a trio of SV650s. My best lap time was 1:33.664, my fastest yet. It was quick enough for a new lap record in BOTT Light, but running those times in a pack of guys while being towed along in the draft is one thing; doing it myself is another.
Second race, BOTT Light: I dragged my knee in Turns Two, Three, Four and Nine on the warmup lap. The weather was good, the track was warm, the motor strong, and the West Coast crew had put in a lot of time and effort to give me the best motorcycle they could. I really wanted to put in the effort to reward them.
I got bogged at the start behind a guy on a Vintage Heavyweight bike, and got into Turn One third behind him and Tony Moniz. I passed Tony on the outside of Two and put my head down.
I broke the lap record on my first flying lap. But I didn’t know it, because I’d forgotten what the old record was. My lap timer read 1:33.84, which I didn’t realize was good enough. I kept hammering. The next lap I caught a guy on a 125cc bike in exactly the wrong spot and slowed enough to drop back into the 1:34 range. I got past and got back after it.
Next lap, clear track, lap timer reads 1:33.80. Not good enough, I thought.
Next lap, clear track, lap timer reads 1:33.62. Didn’t know if it was fast enough, so I steeled myself for one more push on the last lap.
Unfortunately, I had caught up to the leader of the 125cc GP race just as I entered Turn One. I tried hard to slip underneath, but the little bike braked far deeper than I dared. I had to hit the brakes hard and drop in behind him. And the lap was shot at that point. I knew I had a huge gap on second, so I just took it easy, backed off to a 1:37, and took the win.
People were waving enthusiastically on the cooldown lap, but I still had no idea of whether I’d broken the lap record or not. I pulled into the pits, no word from the tower. But when I pulled up to our garage, Andy was there, Sp8s was there, and ZenSandy was beaming. They were congratulating me, but I didn’t know whether it was for the win or the lap record. I finally had to drown them out; “Was it a lap record?” I yelled.
“Yes,” they all yelled back. “Three times!”
I screamed. I hugged ZenSandy. I hugged Andy, who was very emotional. “You did good, you did real good,” I told him.
The old mark – set by Pete Ellis, a racer whose talent I have huge respect for – was 1:33.868. I ran quicker than that three times, finally re-setting the lap record at 1:33.612.
After I got my gear off, I walked down to the other end of the pits. Every step of the way, someone offered congratulations. The announcer called me the man of the hour, or something like that. Even Stevey Racer snarled, “Good job, asshole.”
It was a racer’s dream come true.
But on the back straight it just died, cutting out and coughing at full throttle. Andy took it out for a spin, and it did the same thing to him (I always have someone double-check, because often the problem is in my head). So he and Pete messed with jetting and plugs; it’s the only motor of its type in the world, and we’re feeling our way along as we go.
The minute I got onto the back straight on Sunday morning and opened the throttle I knew things would be good. The bike was fast as hell, stable and responsive. It felt racy and so did I.
First race, West Coast GP Cycles Formula Twins Lightweight, I got up into the battle for 4th with a trio of SV650s. My best lap time was 1:33.664, my fastest yet. It was quick enough for a new lap record in BOTT Light, but running those times in a pack of guys while being towed along in the draft is one thing; doing it myself is another.
Second race, BOTT Light: I dragged my knee in Turns Two, Three, Four and Nine on the warmup lap. The weather was good, the track was warm, the motor strong, and the West Coast crew had put in a lot of time and effort to give me the best motorcycle they could. I really wanted to put in the effort to reward them.
I got bogged at the start behind a guy on a Vintage Heavyweight bike, and got into Turn One third behind him and Tony Moniz. I passed Tony on the outside of Two and put my head down.
I broke the lap record on my first flying lap. But I didn’t know it, because I’d forgotten what the old record was. My lap timer read 1:33.84, which I didn’t realize was good enough. I kept hammering. The next lap I caught a guy on a 125cc bike in exactly the wrong spot and slowed enough to drop back into the 1:34 range. I got past and got back after it.
Next lap, clear track, lap timer reads 1:33.80. Not good enough, I thought.
Next lap, clear track, lap timer reads 1:33.62. Didn’t know if it was fast enough, so I steeled myself for one more push on the last lap.
Unfortunately, I had caught up to the leader of the 125cc GP race just as I entered Turn One. I tried hard to slip underneath, but the little bike braked far deeper than I dared. I had to hit the brakes hard and drop in behind him. And the lap was shot at that point. I knew I had a huge gap on second, so I just took it easy, backed off to a 1:37, and took the win.
People were waving enthusiastically on the cooldown lap, but I still had no idea of whether I’d broken the lap record or not. I pulled into the pits, no word from the tower. But when I pulled up to our garage, Andy was there, Sp8s was there, and ZenSandy was beaming. They were congratulating me, but I didn’t know whether it was for the win or the lap record. I finally had to drown them out; “Was it a lap record?” I yelled.
“Yes,” they all yelled back. “Three times!”
I screamed. I hugged ZenSandy. I hugged Andy, who was very emotional. “You did good, you did real good,” I told him.
The old mark – set by Pete Ellis, a racer whose talent I have huge respect for – was 1:33.868. I ran quicker than that three times, finally re-setting the lap record at 1:33.612.
After I got my gear off, I walked down to the other end of the pits. Every step of the way, someone offered congratulations. The announcer called me the man of the hour, or something like that. Even Stevey Racer snarled, “Good job, asshole.”
It was a racer’s dream come true.