Shane - Superlite (#43)

Racing can be a total bitch sometimes.

Saturday was the practice day so the wife and I headed down to Taupo so I could make certain that the bike was fine and that I was in the right frame of mind.

Pretty much as soon as I got there I caught up with Lewis who was sorting out a pit shed. I was keen go to halves so I parked up beside his vehicle. Sign in and scrutineering were a breeze so I got the bike on the tyre warmers and went for a wander.

Nigel really needs to practice his Riders Briefing speech cos it's the same one everytime but he cocks it up everytime!!

I thought I'd go out in the Fast group (slow, medium, fast, race) as I was pretty freaked after having the throttle stick wide open repeatedly in Round 2 at Manfeild.

First session and I was more nervous than I was for any race. Needless to say it was a very, very slow 1st session. Everyone was tentative in the first, but more so for me. I'd wound back the idle because I didn't want it pushing at all and I'd just live with the engine braking, but I hadn't wound it back enough. The idle in the ECU is set according to temperature and while the bike was still warming up it's set high and until it was hot it felt really bad. However, once the bike was hot it settled down and felt much more normal. The first session was still a write off as it felt like the bike was moving around alot, the idle wasn't quite right and I was head fucked, expecting the throttle to jam at every corner.

I was very relieved the chequered flag came out and trundled back to the pits. Even my wife reckoned I was going really slow and she's someone who screws her nose up and runs away from those horrible, noisy, smelly motorbikes. Lewis reckons I was braking half way down the straight. But, my bike didn't try to kill me so I was happy enough.

Seeing as the idle was still a bit high in places I pulled out the computer and remapped the idle ignition, backing it off so that it wouldn't rev quite so high. The wife sat there shaking her head, happy to regale everyone of the time she walked into the shed to find a bike mechanic and his offsider standing well back out of the way watching me fix the bike with the laptop. According to her it's bloody typical of me to be found threatening a bike with a laptop instead of a screw driver like everyone else would.

The second session rolled around and I headed out repeating "It's all in your farken head, It's all in your farken head, It's all in your farken head ...". This worked a treat and by the 3rd corner I was relaxed and happy and feeling at home. Needless to say this session was considerably better and I was smiling when I got off the bike.

The idle still didn't quite feel right so I pulled out the laptop again and tweaked things a bit more.

The third session was even better, feeling almost like I was up to a race pace except for three places. Namely the sweeper before the straight, the end of the straight and turn 1.

I did get a wee bit of a surprise in this session when a 2 stroke turned up on the outside of me at turn 7 going somewhat faster than he should've been. I noticed he didn't dial any throttle on at all and went right out to the very edge of the ripple strip before pulling it back onto the track where he waved to me before kicking down a gear and giving it some gas. Looks like he cocked things up and must've felt he'd almost hit me.

In the fourth session I decided to try out the leathers I'd be wearing at Paeroa the next weekend. The body and arms felt normal but it was from the bottom of the rib cage down where they felt very different. It was almost like I wasn't wearing any pants and I was moving around on the seat a lot more freely. The only problem was from the knees down it felt like my legs were being strangled. After a while I headed into the pits because I couldn't actually feel my lower legs anymore and that was just wrong so I got the tyre warmers on and headed over to see Sam from Celtic Leathers.

As many people will know, Sam's a good bugger. Through an entire race day there'll be someone hanging out by Sam's gazebo having a chat while he does some magically fairy stuff with a sewing machine. A quick chat to him and he reckons he can sort things out so my legs don't get strangled and they'd be ready first thing the next day. While he was at it he'd go over the zip repair and take a look at all of the stitching to make sure the scrutineers at Paeroa wouldn't throw me out on the following weekend.

It was getting seriously hot by this stage so I decided I'd do another couple of sessions and call it a day so that I didn't go wearing myself out before the racing even started.

There was a bit of a wait until sign in and scrutineering for the next day began so, like usual, I went for a wander around the pits again.

Everyone else had had the same idea and at 4:00pm there was a line formed well outside the sign in shed and scrutineering.

After that we locked everything up and followed Will and Lewis back to where we were staying for the night.

A beer and a shower we then wandered down the road to the Mole and Chicken for something to eat. I had pan fried Hapuka on Bok Choi and Mushrooms with a salad, my wife had a Lamb Shank with spud and veges, Lewis just could not abide having a Steak and Chips without eggs so he ordered a couple of fried eggs with his, while Will had the very delicious looking Pork Belly and veges.

More beer and a very delicious dinner (although I think fish without some form of spud, preferebly mashed but chips are fine, is just wrong) we slowly wandered back to Lewis's place and all collapsed in front of the tv. It's been a while since I've seen Oceans 11 and it was good to watch it again.

Next morning we had a good sleep in, climbing out of bed at 7:45pm. Luxury on a race day. I shot off to find a money machine so I could pay Sam and then headed to the track via McD's. It's just not a race day without a Sausage and Egg McMuffin. Pull the top off it, stuff the Hash Brown in and squirt Tomato Sauce all over it before putting the top back on. Pig out and wash it down with a hot drink.

We got to the track and I immediately stuck the battery charger on. While getting ready to head to the track I remembered that I'd forgotten to charge it overnight and seeing as it's a total loss system running on a fuel injected bike (ie there's a hungry fuel pump, 4 injectors and an ECU to run not to mention the dash etc) it really needs a good charge otherwise there'll be trouble.

I'd signed up for F3 and BEARS and unfortunately the F3 practice/race came before the BEARS ones. It would've been better the other way around so that I could get some track time before setting a good time in F3.

Nigel went through his speech yet again and it seems they'd decided to do a split start for the BEARS/Motards, with the BEARS leading off 1st. Ummmm, I didn't like that idea as I had the smallest BEARS bike there, a full 240cc smaller than the KTM 690, which was 210cc smaller than the 900cc Ducati's. Couldn't see that going well so I decided I'd probably start behind the Motards and just practice a bit before getting lapped as I didn't want a pack of Motards climbing all over me from turns 3 onwards. I don't mind sharing the track with the Motards, but I'm not real comfortable with an entire pack of the buggers all over me on lap 1.

F3 practice wasn't the very first one up this time so I had a bit of time on my hands and wandered around the paddock for the 10th time in 2 days.

Back into my gear as Sam was still setting up and I didn't need the other set of leathers right away and we were out for F3 practice. You'd think I'd learn when it came to F3 practice that I should hit the front and be on track first or just sit in pit lane for 60 seconds so that I had a gap, but I followed the pack out. F3 is the largest class at the PMCC meeting by a long way so it took ages to find some clear track and try and get at least one good lap in. Unfortunately, with Practice being all of 10 minutes I spent the entire thing in traffic, qualifying way back in the pack dammit.

Making sure I didn't make the same mistake again I lined up for the BEARS/Motards practice and just quietly let everyone else put a 30 second gap on me before picking up the pace. Needless to say I qualified with a much better time for BEARS than I did for F3. Muppet.

Unfortunately, after 4 laps of BEARS practice I glanced down at the rev counter to see when to change gear and it was dead, as was the rest of the dash. This meant the battery voltage had dropped below the required minimum and if I didn't watch out I was going to be stranded out on the track with a completely dead bike, so I immediately headed into the pits and stuck the battery charger back on it.

Meantime I'd been having trouble changing gears, having to move my arse backwards and lift my leg to change up so I set about lowering the gear lever by a single spline.

After charging the battery for over an hour I tagged onto the back of the F3 dummy grid and followed everyone out. Lining up in my spot it seems someone hadn't shown up because I had a big empty space in front of me. Excellent, I didn't have to dodge anyone.

As the grid marshals passed me I went through my start line mantra and watched the lights, going to full throttle on the 4th light, holding until the lights go out, noticing a couple of people jumped early, still waiting, the lights go out and launch. I get a great start passing everyone in the row in front of me and 1 or 2 on the next row as well. Heading into turn 1 I'm stuck behind the traffic jam and start to move to the inside so nobody stuffs me but I'm too late and lose a spot to a VFR.

Everyone makes it around fine and we all start to sort ourselves out. I stick to the back of the VFR and settle into a rythmn.

Unfortunately I haven't been able to sort out the sweeper onto the main straight yet as the bike is half a gear out there and at the end of the straight. If I drop down an extra gear I have to try and balance it on relatively high revs with the engine getting snatchy and jerky. Otherwise I go in a gear high and have no drive out of the corner. This is exactly the same problem at the end of the straight - down 3 and lots of clutch slip but still too slow or down 2 with nice speed but no drive onto the start/finish straight.

Nearing the end of lap 2 I look down and the tacho and dash are dead again. Lots of swearing ensues as I carry on. By lap 4 it's pretty obvious I'm on a hiding to nowhere and if I carry on I'm going to be stuck on the track somewhere, so I pull the plug and pit.

Rather pissed off I don't even bother putting the charger on the battery because I know there isn't a hope in hell of getting enough charge in it before the second race so the only option is to try and find a spare.

After lots of wandering around and asking, even an announcement over the PA, I haven't been able to locate a suitable battery. Some guys had spare batteries, but they were all on the small side and hadn't been charge for quite a while. After an hour my wife and I decide to pull the plug and head home early.

Unfortunately, after packing everything up, having a decent feed as I was sick of Muesli Bars and Bananas, handing in my transponder and getting my licence back the FroggyFrenchman tells me he won't be riding his last race because his tyres are totalled so I could use his battery. It was great of him to offer, but my brain had already checked out and my wife wouldn't let me do the last race if I was in the wrong state of mind, ie she didn't want to drive home towing a trailer with a broken arse husband and bike.

So that's the second mechanical DNF meeting in a row, this time due to stupidity rather than genuine mechanical problems.

Lesson learnt. I'm going to replace the 3 dead batteries I've got and start taking the spare with me again.

Thanks to

• the PMCC for a great Summer Series
• Lewis for the shed and the spare bed
• Corey for the leathers
• My wife for not throwing the toys and going home with the car