morbidelli17
Tue 8/5/08, 5:53PM
I was looking forward to Fontana. New forks, new pipe and new XXXX in the motor since I last was here in January. I pitted with Jeremy Toye that weekend, learned some stuff about Willow, and went out to the big track at Willow the next month and broke the lap record. I figured this might be another learning experience.
It was.
Best lap in the past here was a 1:46.8. In practice on Saturday, I went 1:45.3; the new stuff (installed by my friends at West Coast GP Cycles, go there for all your motorcycling needs!) worked really well. It was an absolute joy to fling the bike into corners on the brakes, rock-stable. At one point on the track, I was transitioning from a right-hand kink at full throttle immediately into a hard left on the brakes, something that would have tied the stock forks into knots; the GSX-R forks were awesome!
The last session was more of the same. Went to dinner, cleaned the bike, went to bed. (I try to keep a clean bike, clean pits and a clean West Coast GP Cycles shirt on at all times in the paddock. Editor Ulrich was telling me yesterday about a guy who was bitching to him about a lack of sponsorship. The guy was wearing a moth-eaten t-shirt, jeans with stains and holes, and his bike looked like shit. Who wants their company’s name on that?)
I had a very nice time with my racer friends. Monsterdood, Joy Higa, Shandra, Tania, and Christina (sponsored by the ultracool-sounding Ponyrific.com) all spend a lot of time talking about racing, what we wanted to accomplish, what we were trying to do. And I know all these people well enough that we don’t come at it with a bunch of ego (some ego, of course, we’re racers, dammit!) That part of racing’s pretty cool, too.
Sunday morning warmup; I’m slower. Not again. I do this every now and then; show up, first practice is OK, then I just go slower practice after practice. Andy came by and asked how I was doing. I told him I needed to re-learn my braking markers since there was no wind, like there was on Saturday. Upon further reflection, what I needed to do was to pull my head out of my ass; I was braking way too early, wind or no wind.
The first race gave me an opportunity to do that, since it was just me and Shandra on her Hyosung 250 (all hail the new WERA West D Superbike champion!). Best time 1:45.22. I wanted to leave the track with a lap in the 1:44s. I knew Zoran could run 1:43s at will, so I didn’t expect to beat him in Clubman. But I was ready to fight, and maybe learn something. Not only is Zoran bloody fast on his SV500, but he’s also an instructor with a track day organization, so he can articulate what someone is doing.
It was Zoran, Shandra and me when the green flag dropped in Clubman. I got buried into the pack of kids on 125s that make up the first wave, and nearly dropped all the way to the back. But Zoran sat behind me; I figured he would watch me until the halfway point.
Three laps later, I’ve got my 1:44 lap in the books, and Zoran slides by into Turn Three. OK, I think. I’m going with him, whatever happens.
Three turns later, I’m thinking, “I am so going into the grass here …” I turned into a corner before my usual turn-in spot (I got excited) and ran wide, nearly soiled my newly-dyed leathers and had to get off the gas. But I managed to catch back up to the Z-man, and we ran nose-to-tail across the stripe.
It’s usually at this point of the race that Zoran disappears. He dropped the hammer, running the best time I’ve ever seen him run on an SV500 at Fontana – a 1:42.8.
But he didn’t get away. I don’t know where it came from, but I chased as hard as I could, and when I glanced down, my lap timer said 1:43.78. Three seconds faster than I’d ever run here before this weekend. Not bad, better than I’d hoped for.
Then on the last lap, Zoran cut a chicane, and my head went something like: “Sowhathappensnowdoeshegetdisqualifiedisitaonelapp enaltyisitatensecondpenaltydidIjustwin …”
And, rather obviously, with all that going on in my head, I kind of forgot how to ride a motorcycle. I completely lost my focus. I took second, 1.8 seconds back. I learned something - how easy it was to get distracted by focusing on a result instead of focusing on the task at hand - getting back on the gas.
After the race, Zoran said I could file a protest and get the win. I thought about it, asked Speights what he would do, talked to Andy – I didn’t want to give away a West Coast GP Cycles win without talking to the team. And in the end, I didn’t protest. Zoran was faster than me on this day, end of discussion.
One day, I will beat him fairly and straight-up. And when I do, it will be because he’s not just a competitor, but a friend. After the race, he gave me an intense, one-on-one critique of my riding that was incredible. You’d pay good money for a session like that.
Three things I remember from that little chat:
-There were areas of the track where I was faster than him. Sweet.
-There were areas of the track where he said I could go much faster than I was going and I smiled and nodded and inside my head I was thinking, “Faster? Through there? No FUCKING WAY! This man is COMPLETELY IN-FUCKING-SANE!!!”
-My bike is now faster in a straight line than his. Andy, Pete, Alex and Omar, take a bow. If the West Coast GP crew can make me look fast, they’re miracle workers.
It was.
Best lap in the past here was a 1:46.8. In practice on Saturday, I went 1:45.3; the new stuff (installed by my friends at West Coast GP Cycles, go there for all your motorcycling needs!) worked really well. It was an absolute joy to fling the bike into corners on the brakes, rock-stable. At one point on the track, I was transitioning from a right-hand kink at full throttle immediately into a hard left on the brakes, something that would have tied the stock forks into knots; the GSX-R forks were awesome!
The last session was more of the same. Went to dinner, cleaned the bike, went to bed. (I try to keep a clean bike, clean pits and a clean West Coast GP Cycles shirt on at all times in the paddock. Editor Ulrich was telling me yesterday about a guy who was bitching to him about a lack of sponsorship. The guy was wearing a moth-eaten t-shirt, jeans with stains and holes, and his bike looked like shit. Who wants their company’s name on that?)
I had a very nice time with my racer friends. Monsterdood, Joy Higa, Shandra, Tania, and Christina (sponsored by the ultracool-sounding Ponyrific.com) all spend a lot of time talking about racing, what we wanted to accomplish, what we were trying to do. And I know all these people well enough that we don’t come at it with a bunch of ego (some ego, of course, we’re racers, dammit!) That part of racing’s pretty cool, too.
Sunday morning warmup; I’m slower. Not again. I do this every now and then; show up, first practice is OK, then I just go slower practice after practice. Andy came by and asked how I was doing. I told him I needed to re-learn my braking markers since there was no wind, like there was on Saturday. Upon further reflection, what I needed to do was to pull my head out of my ass; I was braking way too early, wind or no wind.
The first race gave me an opportunity to do that, since it was just me and Shandra on her Hyosung 250 (all hail the new WERA West D Superbike champion!). Best time 1:45.22. I wanted to leave the track with a lap in the 1:44s. I knew Zoran could run 1:43s at will, so I didn’t expect to beat him in Clubman. But I was ready to fight, and maybe learn something. Not only is Zoran bloody fast on his SV500, but he’s also an instructor with a track day organization, so he can articulate what someone is doing.
It was Zoran, Shandra and me when the green flag dropped in Clubman. I got buried into the pack of kids on 125s that make up the first wave, and nearly dropped all the way to the back. But Zoran sat behind me; I figured he would watch me until the halfway point.
Three laps later, I’ve got my 1:44 lap in the books, and Zoran slides by into Turn Three. OK, I think. I’m going with him, whatever happens.
Three turns later, I’m thinking, “I am so going into the grass here …” I turned into a corner before my usual turn-in spot (I got excited) and ran wide, nearly soiled my newly-dyed leathers and had to get off the gas. But I managed to catch back up to the Z-man, and we ran nose-to-tail across the stripe.
It’s usually at this point of the race that Zoran disappears. He dropped the hammer, running the best time I’ve ever seen him run on an SV500 at Fontana – a 1:42.8.
But he didn’t get away. I don’t know where it came from, but I chased as hard as I could, and when I glanced down, my lap timer said 1:43.78. Three seconds faster than I’d ever run here before this weekend. Not bad, better than I’d hoped for.
Then on the last lap, Zoran cut a chicane, and my head went something like: “Sowhathappensnowdoeshegetdisqualifiedisitaonelapp enaltyisitatensecondpenaltydidIjustwin …”
And, rather obviously, with all that going on in my head, I kind of forgot how to ride a motorcycle. I completely lost my focus. I took second, 1.8 seconds back. I learned something - how easy it was to get distracted by focusing on a result instead of focusing on the task at hand - getting back on the gas.
After the race, Zoran said I could file a protest and get the win. I thought about it, asked Speights what he would do, talked to Andy – I didn’t want to give away a West Coast GP Cycles win without talking to the team. And in the end, I didn’t protest. Zoran was faster than me on this day, end of discussion.
One day, I will beat him fairly and straight-up. And when I do, it will be because he’s not just a competitor, but a friend. After the race, he gave me an intense, one-on-one critique of my riding that was incredible. You’d pay good money for a session like that.
Three things I remember from that little chat:
-There were areas of the track where I was faster than him. Sweet.
-There were areas of the track where he said I could go much faster than I was going and I smiled and nodded and inside my head I was thinking, “Faster? Through there? No FUCKING WAY! This man is COMPLETELY IN-FUCKING-SANE!!!”
-My bike is now faster in a straight line than his. Andy, Pete, Alex and Omar, take a bow. If the West Coast GP crew can make me look fast, they’re miracle workers.