slowpoke
28th September 2009, 15:23
What a blardy weekend. Here it is Monday arvo and I’m feeling more like the Titanic than the iceberg: absolutely wrecked.
With work commitments it had been nearly a year since I’d last raced on the Manfeild short circuit. I’d done a couple of test days in the meantime but not actually raced, so I was looking forward to it. Martin and the good guys at Motomart had supplied a luvverly new sprocket at a great price to cure the gearing issue I had with running the taller Dunlops, so it was game on.
My weekend started after a training course in Darwin with a 1:30am redeye flight to Sydney Friday morning….along with a nice assortment of folks determined to celebrate their way down to Sydney/Melbourne for the AFL grand final and League semi’s. Sleep was obviously an optional extra that everyone was forced to take a pass on. Aaaaaah, the romance of travel......
So after the flight across the ditch, and the train under the hill, I arrived home at 6:30pm. With my missus working late I just grabbed a beer, packed my racing crap and get ready for an early night, to be up again at 5am. Things were looking cruisy right up until my missus called to say her fuggin’ car wouldn’t start. Stress level through the roof, as she’d just picked the ol’ thing up from having this very issue supposedly sorted. Ya gotta laugh, you have a 40 year old classic car and it’s the new electronic distributor to supposedly make it more reliable that lets ya down….carnt of a thing. So much for an early night.
Anyway off to Manners and it’s a bleary eyed Slowpoke rockin’ up to F2 practice, and I reckon if the guy in front on the dummy grid had turned right onto the track rather than left I would have followed without a second thought. I just circulated trying to find a rythmn, slowly getting up to speed.
F1 qualifying and I tried to fire up a bit. A couple of laps under my belt and I started feeding it the fat, couldn’t quite get a clear lap and then the front brakes weirded out on me as the bike almost freewheeled off the end of the front straight. It felt like I had a stone caught in one of the calipers, or I was down to the steel on the pads, but I’d only just replaced the pads/fluid before the last meeting. So I pulled in and had to be content with the runs on the board: 1m13.5ish I think, and starting from 13 on the grid. Considering I didn’t get a clear lap I was kinda happy with that as I had a goal of 1m12 something(Shirriffs, Stroud and co +10%) and I felt like I had a bit up my sleeve.
So after checking the front calipers for sticking pistons, changing the brake fluid (moisture ingress?) it was into race one. After my starting woes at the last round I actually got a good ‘un, into about 10th out of turn 1, passed by and repassing Jamie Rajek through the first lap. Head down I was determined not waste a good opportunity…..right up until I lost the front coming out of the hairpin on lap 2. I was literally kicking myself before I even came to a stop: classic cold l/h side of tyre mistake.
With only one race until the LG race I couldn’t make the repairs in time (busted rearset, clip on etc) and got the bike rideable again.
After stewing in my own thoughts overnight I cruised out in the scrub to check the bike, and came in to find the steering damper clamp loose…oops! Tightened ‘er up and it was out for race 2, with a plan of easing into it again. I’d dropped the forks a tad to put a bit more weight on the front, and took a bit of rebound damping out of it to hopefully help the front end stick a bit better. Reasonable start and I circulated in the 14’s until the red flag mid way through. The bike felt ok, so I thought I’d go a bit harder after the restart, until 2 monster front end slides in one attempt at the, you guessed it, hairpin. I didn't even get near the throttle this time, as I was just easing off the brakes. FAARK, is it me or is the bike feeling shite all of a sudden? So it was into survival mode and ease it home with people blowing by left right and centre. Get back to the pits and find half the steering damper clamp is gone…..but is it enough to explain the dodgy handling? Let the head games begin!
I wacked a bit more preload on the front end (close to bottoming out) and went out in the LG race to make up the numbers and see how it felt with no damper. Cor! She was a wild and wooly ride onto the front straight and out of Higgins over the hump but it was rideable. Don’t let anybody tell ya Honda’s are boring!
So race 3 comes and I’m rooted, physically and mentally, it’s just been a battle all weekend. Even the shorter gearing hasn't quite worked as I'd hoped, as the chattering from the rear has been accentuated and now my arse feels more battered than a gay pornstars'. So, a reasonable start, holding position and here we go again. I can here this booming Duke sneaking up and it’s the dude on the yellow 748. A 748? Jaysus, this is getting embarrassing, pull finga you slack prick! I managed to gap him a bit, only to hear him again…nope, it’s blardy Johan on his 998. He’d gone quicker and quicker all weekend so I wasn’t surprised, it was just a bit earlier than I'd hoped that's all. He got by me coming into the hairpin as I’d started taking a more 600-ish swooping line rather than the get in, get it turned, and gas it Superbike line. I used the time honoured brute force and ignorance approach of hp over talent and managed to get by him and started pushing again. I couldn’t hear him so thought I’d gapped him a tad, only to find that carbon front guard sneaking past my elbow into the blardy hairpin again. My response was to then cock up the entry into Higgins and had no laps to make up for it as Stroudy and Craig kindly shortened our race by a lap, passing us at Dunlop.
All in all just a weekend of trying hard and getting absolutely nowhere. Dicing with Johan was probably the only real fun of the two days, so thanks for that mate.
I didn’t get to do that 1m12 either, with a best of 1min13.3 in the last race not much to write home about. I was hoping to make a decision about entering the Nat’s based on my performance here: if I could do a 1m12 and/or not be lapped in the long race format I thought I wouldn’t get in the way of the front runners. Now I’m more confused than ever and thoughts are flying ‘round my head like farts in a bottle. Fuck knows…….
Thanks to Martin/Motomart for organising such a good deal/delivery on that sexy lookin' sprocket, Celtic Leathers for repairing my leathers so late in the day and Vic Club and their merry band of volounteers for another great event.
Oh yeah, if someone is interested in a ’70 Mustang that doesn’t go or the most exciting CBR1000RR you are ever likely to ride, gimmee a yell.
Edit:Sorry, didn't mean to come across all "woe is me", I'll take a coupla ordinary days at the track over a coupla good days at work every single time. Bring on the next event.
With work commitments it had been nearly a year since I’d last raced on the Manfeild short circuit. I’d done a couple of test days in the meantime but not actually raced, so I was looking forward to it. Martin and the good guys at Motomart had supplied a luvverly new sprocket at a great price to cure the gearing issue I had with running the taller Dunlops, so it was game on.
My weekend started after a training course in Darwin with a 1:30am redeye flight to Sydney Friday morning….along with a nice assortment of folks determined to celebrate their way down to Sydney/Melbourne for the AFL grand final and League semi’s. Sleep was obviously an optional extra that everyone was forced to take a pass on. Aaaaaah, the romance of travel......
So after the flight across the ditch, and the train under the hill, I arrived home at 6:30pm. With my missus working late I just grabbed a beer, packed my racing crap and get ready for an early night, to be up again at 5am. Things were looking cruisy right up until my missus called to say her fuggin’ car wouldn’t start. Stress level through the roof, as she’d just picked the ol’ thing up from having this very issue supposedly sorted. Ya gotta laugh, you have a 40 year old classic car and it’s the new electronic distributor to supposedly make it more reliable that lets ya down….carnt of a thing. So much for an early night.
Anyway off to Manners and it’s a bleary eyed Slowpoke rockin’ up to F2 practice, and I reckon if the guy in front on the dummy grid had turned right onto the track rather than left I would have followed without a second thought. I just circulated trying to find a rythmn, slowly getting up to speed.
F1 qualifying and I tried to fire up a bit. A couple of laps under my belt and I started feeding it the fat, couldn’t quite get a clear lap and then the front brakes weirded out on me as the bike almost freewheeled off the end of the front straight. It felt like I had a stone caught in one of the calipers, or I was down to the steel on the pads, but I’d only just replaced the pads/fluid before the last meeting. So I pulled in and had to be content with the runs on the board: 1m13.5ish I think, and starting from 13 on the grid. Considering I didn’t get a clear lap I was kinda happy with that as I had a goal of 1m12 something(Shirriffs, Stroud and co +10%) and I felt like I had a bit up my sleeve.
So after checking the front calipers for sticking pistons, changing the brake fluid (moisture ingress?) it was into race one. After my starting woes at the last round I actually got a good ‘un, into about 10th out of turn 1, passed by and repassing Jamie Rajek through the first lap. Head down I was determined not waste a good opportunity…..right up until I lost the front coming out of the hairpin on lap 2. I was literally kicking myself before I even came to a stop: classic cold l/h side of tyre mistake.
With only one race until the LG race I couldn’t make the repairs in time (busted rearset, clip on etc) and got the bike rideable again.
After stewing in my own thoughts overnight I cruised out in the scrub to check the bike, and came in to find the steering damper clamp loose…oops! Tightened ‘er up and it was out for race 2, with a plan of easing into it again. I’d dropped the forks a tad to put a bit more weight on the front, and took a bit of rebound damping out of it to hopefully help the front end stick a bit better. Reasonable start and I circulated in the 14’s until the red flag mid way through. The bike felt ok, so I thought I’d go a bit harder after the restart, until 2 monster front end slides in one attempt at the, you guessed it, hairpin. I didn't even get near the throttle this time, as I was just easing off the brakes. FAARK, is it me or is the bike feeling shite all of a sudden? So it was into survival mode and ease it home with people blowing by left right and centre. Get back to the pits and find half the steering damper clamp is gone…..but is it enough to explain the dodgy handling? Let the head games begin!
I wacked a bit more preload on the front end (close to bottoming out) and went out in the LG race to make up the numbers and see how it felt with no damper. Cor! She was a wild and wooly ride onto the front straight and out of Higgins over the hump but it was rideable. Don’t let anybody tell ya Honda’s are boring!
So race 3 comes and I’m rooted, physically and mentally, it’s just been a battle all weekend. Even the shorter gearing hasn't quite worked as I'd hoped, as the chattering from the rear has been accentuated and now my arse feels more battered than a gay pornstars'. So, a reasonable start, holding position and here we go again. I can here this booming Duke sneaking up and it’s the dude on the yellow 748. A 748? Jaysus, this is getting embarrassing, pull finga you slack prick! I managed to gap him a bit, only to hear him again…nope, it’s blardy Johan on his 998. He’d gone quicker and quicker all weekend so I wasn’t surprised, it was just a bit earlier than I'd hoped that's all. He got by me coming into the hairpin as I’d started taking a more 600-ish swooping line rather than the get in, get it turned, and gas it Superbike line. I used the time honoured brute force and ignorance approach of hp over talent and managed to get by him and started pushing again. I couldn’t hear him so thought I’d gapped him a tad, only to find that carbon front guard sneaking past my elbow into the blardy hairpin again. My response was to then cock up the entry into Higgins and had no laps to make up for it as Stroudy and Craig kindly shortened our race by a lap, passing us at Dunlop.
All in all just a weekend of trying hard and getting absolutely nowhere. Dicing with Johan was probably the only real fun of the two days, so thanks for that mate.
I didn’t get to do that 1m12 either, with a best of 1min13.3 in the last race not much to write home about. I was hoping to make a decision about entering the Nat’s based on my performance here: if I could do a 1m12 and/or not be lapped in the long race format I thought I wouldn’t get in the way of the front runners. Now I’m more confused than ever and thoughts are flying ‘round my head like farts in a bottle. Fuck knows…….
Thanks to Martin/Motomart for organising such a good deal/delivery on that sexy lookin' sprocket, Celtic Leathers for repairing my leathers so late in the day and Vic Club and their merry band of volounteers for another great event.
Oh yeah, if someone is interested in a ’70 Mustang that doesn’t go or the most exciting CBR1000RR you are ever likely to ride, gimmee a yell.
Edit:Sorry, didn't mean to come across all "woe is me", I'll take a coupla ordinary days at the track over a coupla good days at work every single time. Bring on the next event.