Shane - Superlite (#43)

Frustration. It's a very annoying word. A bloody nuisance when it applies to an entire weekend.

Metvuw said no rain so, thankfully, the wets kept collecting spiders webs in the shed.

Steve picked me up, we picked my bike up and hit the road. The drive down was uneventful and we got there in time to leave the trailer at the track so we didn't have to fight for a space the next morning. A burger and chips eaten on the bonnet of the car and we were off to Palmy North for the night.

We rocked up to Mumbles place, parked ourselves on the couch and pulled the top off some cold ones.

Mumbles told me I could crash in the spare room but Stevie said if I did he'd jump in too. I really, really wasn't keen on waking up to find a half pissed Scotsman who'd been babbling about shagging earlier spooning me. So I crashed on the couch.

Unfortunately, that meant I didn't get to sleep until after 1:30am.

We were meant to get away fairly early but typically we got there later than we should have.

Sign in was straight forward, as was scrutineering. I got the tyre warmers on and it was time to try out my Christmas Present - Under Armour.

It was definitely easier to get into my gear and it was great not having the lot stuck to me for a change.

Post Classics were up first so Stevie was swearing away at how little time he had to get his shit sorted, so being the generous person I am I wandered off and talked to people. Vince on a Guzzi said they were trying for a BEARS class and asked if I wanted in. I said hell yeah. Steve had been trying to convince me to cross enter into F2 but I wasn't at all keen. Tootling around at the back of a pack of bikes that have double the power output of mine with riders whose mindset is CHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGEE EEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! isn't my idea of fun. Others I talked to have said they'd done it in the past and it was the worst idea they'd ever had. At least in BEARS you're racing with a huge variety of bikes, from 250cc singles to 1198's. So the fast riders know they have to be a bit more careful than the 600 kamikaze pilots.

I checked the tyre pressures and was surprised to see the front was at 40psi. I grabbed another tyre gauge off the guys next to us and checked with that one. Turns out mine was correct. Last outing was at Hampton Downs where I'd changed the front slick and I only got to do a single lap before the fuel rail started pouring the contents of the gas tank onto the ground and then the rain hosed down big time. So I hadn't checked the tyre pressures properly until now.

Superlites/F3 Practice

Out on track and I did a couple of slow laps just to see how things were feeling. In some of the corners the frontend was all over the place and in the rest I was having random problems getting to the apex. I sped up a little bit to see if things got any better and followed one of the ZXR's for a while. Suddenly, at turn 2, I got a big fright when the throttle stuck wide open of a second, almost sending me off the track. So I idled back to the pits, got my gear off and started going over things to see why it happened. Everything appeared to be fine so I just put it down to rider error.

However, I didn't get to do any laps at anything other than medium pace so I wasn't surprised to see I was on the 2nd to last row.

BEARS Practice

I decided I'd put the 1st session aside and start from the beginning again, doing a couple of slow laps to see how things felt and then get a couple of quicker ones in towards the end of the session.

This time the front end felt worse but I gradually started pushing things harder anyway. Steve hates being on the track with the motards, but even when one of them went underneath me way too late and was lucky I saw him at all and stood it up I wasn't bothered by them. The guy who got underneath me way too late into Higgins must've gave himself a hell of a fright cos he just cruised down the stright and pulled into the pits rather gingerly.

The bike wasn't feeling great until half way through practice the throttle jammed wide open at turn 2 again. This time I definitely ended up on the grass so I pulled back onto the track and slowly wandered back to the pits.

The tank and fairings came off and I wiggled and poked and jiggled things around but whatever it was seemed to have cleared again.

By now I was definitely spooked and thought I'd see how the 1st race went and if I wasn't happy I'd bail and fix it properly.

Race 1

I found my spot ok even though I hadn't taken a look at the grid beforehand. I was well aware that starts are a problem for me so I was focussed on launching and getting to turn 1.

The grid Marshals walked past, the lights came up, this time I waited for them to go out and saw a couple of people move slightly cos they got it wrong. Lights went out, I launched and got a real flier, instantly making up about 6 places before I hit 2nd gear. I pulled 2nd and saw a bike in front of me going backwards suddenly so I dived right and saw that I could get around the outside at turn 1. Things were looking great because other bikes on the inside were already braking and I was still at full throttle, making up more places.

I snuck around the outside of a couple but then I started having problems.

My bike kept pushing wider and wider and wouldn't come back so that I could get on the throttle, almost running me onto the grass. The bikes inside me got on the gas and pulled past me, however, due to the problems I'd already had through the morning I decide I wasn't going to push things now. The guy that missed a gear came through at Splash and Bob Grover got around me at the hairpin. I used to work with Bob and he's a great guy but I wasn't keen on finishing behind him so I thought I'd follow him for a bit, see how the bike went and get past him later on.

Heading into turn 2 the throttle once again stuck wide open, this time I was travelling quite a bit faster than earlier and it fired me straight off the track, bars slapping and the tank bashing into both of my legs. I grabbed a handful of clutch and took a couple of stabs at the kill switch and eventually I rolled to a halt in the middle of nowhere.

The guy on the quad cruised over for a chat and I told him I'd need a ride back as the throttle wouldn't return at all.

So I sat in the middle of the paddock watching the race. Once it was over I pushed my bike over to turn 4 and waited for the recovery. Seems the guy who missed a gear at the start got a bit too enthusiastic at turn 1 and put it in the dirt. I loaded it onto the trailer, climbed on and then had to put up with the guy holding the other bike going on about the recovery vehicle going too fast, the brake lever was broken and the seat was so high he could only tip toe. I'd never heard anyone bitch so much, and I've travelled with Stevie ffs.

That was the end of the day for me. I'd had a couple of attempts at locating and fixing the problem but it was still there so I'd go home and pull things apart so I could fix it properly.

The problem I then had was finding my wallet so I could get myself a cup of caffeine to calm my nerves. Half an hour later, after much swearing and scratching my head, I located it down the side of the passengers seat in the car where it had fallen out of my pocket.

Sometime later I had a bit of a look and discovered that the throttle grip and slipped a bit and was actually off the end of the throttle tube. So I would've been leaning on it at turn 2 causing it to stick to the bar. However, that wasn't the whole story because the throttle still wouldn't return after the grip stopped sticking and that didn't explain why it wouldn't drop revs for gear changes either. So there's something else that needs looking at.

Also, after talking to some people I finally realized there was nothing wrong with the front end, it was the bastard wind that was howling through and kept wanting to take the front end out from under me. Had I have realized that earlier I wouldn't have been so bloody worried about it.

After much wandering and lots of chatting I started packing up as Steve was going to have 2 races back to back and that'd be it for the day. He couldn't be bothered waiting around for the second F2 race at the end of the day so we were set to piss off real early.

Things didn't quite go as planned unfortunately. As the leader was about to lap him Steve signalled for him to go left into the hairpin while he went wide and gave everyone room. However, the lead bike went around the outside, ran out of room, dove back in and took out the Frakencane's front wheel.

Much drama ensued and we got away far later than we would've. Paul, the builder of Frakencane, was taking the bike back to his place while the fairings went with someone else off to Billy. So I had to move my bike into the middle of the trailer.

It was a quiet trip home. Probably a good thing cos I wasn't real keen on talking a lot, having had only a DNF and DNS to show for the weekend.

Now I am sore. I must've done a total of 10 laps but I think the excursions off the track put a hell of a lot of stress into my arms and legs.