slowpoke
23rd August 2009, 19:31
What a blardy weekend……it could have been worse, but it should have been a whole lot better.
After my drama’s during qualifying at the last race round I made it too (Rd 2) I was keen to make amends for this round. I made it up for the test day on Friday, and despite Tony Okeefe teasing fuck out of me by passing me like I was standing still and promptly pulling in to the pits before I could see how he did it, it was great to spend a bit of time on track after missing Round 3.
So, after fitting some brand new secondhand tyres and new brake pads for race day, I’d done as much as I could do. I’d make a point of actually having my shit together first thing and bed in the pads during the scrub session and I should be sweeeeeet.
Only there was no scrub session….
…….but thanks to Drew wondering why I was moping around in my civvies while he was kitted up to go out in the F2 practice (which F1 is able to enter) I scrambled about and bolted out just in time to use that as a scrub session. So much for having my shit together…….
F1 qualifying/practice came and went and I got in a few decent laps, eventually qualifying 10th, not great…..but not bad. I gave myself a C+ on my report card.
Race 1 finally rolls around and before the first corner I know I’m in deep shit. A crossed up pig jump outta the blocks, a button off, and I lose about half a dozen places. I pass a few, another few decide to play in the bushes or stay in the pits, and somehow I finish in 8th. If you’d asked beforehand I would have been happy with 8th, but somehow I was left wondering about what could have been. Highlight of the race was Phil Derby, Darren Humphries and I getting tangled up at the cement mixer, oops I mean hairpin, and being slightly back/alongside Phil as he got the perfect drive all the way through 2nd and 3rd gears with his front wheel hovering a foot off the deck. Even trying as I was I can remember thinking “Fuck that looks cool…”
Race 2, and after being over-zealous with the clutch in Race 1 I was a tad too cautious and lost another couple of places. Jaysus, it’s not rocket science how can I fuck it up so consistently? This time I stayed in contact with Johan and Sandra who both blew by me at the start. I snuck in front of Johan but was effectively snookered by Sandra and just couldn’t make a pass stick despite feeling like I had a bit more pace. Johan gave me hurry up on the last corner as though to say “lemmee have a go”, and if there’d been a few more laps I would have ‘cos I was just getting more and more frustrated Still, the view could have been a lot worse…… With a couple of guys making race 2 who missed race 1, I finished a disappointing 11th I think, and gave myself a D.
Ok, the LG race. On the second row and a start position of 6th I was lookin’ right up the klacker’s of some big names in front, I mean RIGHT in front of me. Hmmmmm, time to rethink my start “technique”. I just tested the take up point of the clutch…..and promptly stalled it. FAAAAAARK! With no starter motor I’d just taken a long walk off a short pier. With no other option I just had to push it off to the side and wait for everyone to bugger off. Taking pity on a man about to self immolate, Skip kindly let me bump start it after everyone had buggered off. So on the second attempt the fuggin’ thing finally fired, and I “elegantly” bunny hopped into the distance all the while wondering if there was an exit road I could take to put as much distance as I could between myself and Manfeild. Once I’d figured out there was no easy exit and I’d stopped calling myself every name that rhymed with “stupid cunt”, it was just a case of racing the clock, determined to do my best lap of the day, if nothing else. To my surprise I caught a few blokes, and I did actually do my best time, but with tired tyres it wasn’t by much, as the bike spent as much time pumping and stepping sideways out of corners, not helped by a panic’d hamfisted throttle hand. Apparently I finished 5th in a self depleting field but it was nothing to be proud of. So that’s a big fat F to top off my Round 4 report card.
Thanks to Drew for the heads up before F2 practice, Vic Club and all the volunteers for their efforts, and Johan for being camp mother in organising the pit and showing me how it should be done on the mighty Duc.
After my drama’s during qualifying at the last race round I made it too (Rd 2) I was keen to make amends for this round. I made it up for the test day on Friday, and despite Tony Okeefe teasing fuck out of me by passing me like I was standing still and promptly pulling in to the pits before I could see how he did it, it was great to spend a bit of time on track after missing Round 3.
So, after fitting some brand new secondhand tyres and new brake pads for race day, I’d done as much as I could do. I’d make a point of actually having my shit together first thing and bed in the pads during the scrub session and I should be sweeeeeet.
Only there was no scrub session….
…….but thanks to Drew wondering why I was moping around in my civvies while he was kitted up to go out in the F2 practice (which F1 is able to enter) I scrambled about and bolted out just in time to use that as a scrub session. So much for having my shit together…….
F1 qualifying/practice came and went and I got in a few decent laps, eventually qualifying 10th, not great…..but not bad. I gave myself a C+ on my report card.
Race 1 finally rolls around and before the first corner I know I’m in deep shit. A crossed up pig jump outta the blocks, a button off, and I lose about half a dozen places. I pass a few, another few decide to play in the bushes or stay in the pits, and somehow I finish in 8th. If you’d asked beforehand I would have been happy with 8th, but somehow I was left wondering about what could have been. Highlight of the race was Phil Derby, Darren Humphries and I getting tangled up at the cement mixer, oops I mean hairpin, and being slightly back/alongside Phil as he got the perfect drive all the way through 2nd and 3rd gears with his front wheel hovering a foot off the deck. Even trying as I was I can remember thinking “Fuck that looks cool…”
Race 2, and after being over-zealous with the clutch in Race 1 I was a tad too cautious and lost another couple of places. Jaysus, it’s not rocket science how can I fuck it up so consistently? This time I stayed in contact with Johan and Sandra who both blew by me at the start. I snuck in front of Johan but was effectively snookered by Sandra and just couldn’t make a pass stick despite feeling like I had a bit more pace. Johan gave me hurry up on the last corner as though to say “lemmee have a go”, and if there’d been a few more laps I would have ‘cos I was just getting more and more frustrated Still, the view could have been a lot worse…… With a couple of guys making race 2 who missed race 1, I finished a disappointing 11th I think, and gave myself a D.
Ok, the LG race. On the second row and a start position of 6th I was lookin’ right up the klacker’s of some big names in front, I mean RIGHT in front of me. Hmmmmm, time to rethink my start “technique”. I just tested the take up point of the clutch…..and promptly stalled it. FAAAAAARK! With no starter motor I’d just taken a long walk off a short pier. With no other option I just had to push it off to the side and wait for everyone to bugger off. Taking pity on a man about to self immolate, Skip kindly let me bump start it after everyone had buggered off. So on the second attempt the fuggin’ thing finally fired, and I “elegantly” bunny hopped into the distance all the while wondering if there was an exit road I could take to put as much distance as I could between myself and Manfeild. Once I’d figured out there was no easy exit and I’d stopped calling myself every name that rhymed with “stupid cunt”, it was just a case of racing the clock, determined to do my best lap of the day, if nothing else. To my surprise I caught a few blokes, and I did actually do my best time, but with tired tyres it wasn’t by much, as the bike spent as much time pumping and stepping sideways out of corners, not helped by a panic’d hamfisted throttle hand. Apparently I finished 5th in a self depleting field but it was nothing to be proud of. So that’s a big fat F to top off my Round 4 report card.
Thanks to Drew for the heads up before F2 practice, Vic Club and all the volunteers for their efforts, and Johan for being camp mother in organising the pit and showing me how it should be done on the mighty Duc.