| off…the marshalls collected the trail of slippery chimp truffles he had expelled and we all made it safely back to the pits.
The standout moment of the day was convincing the female Rip van Winkle known as Nancy, that I couldn’t sew..and having her mend my shorts for me. Bless her heart. I bought her a quiz magazine as payment. I am far too generous!
It had been a great day, and despite still feeling quite poorly and having an annoyingly painful bad back, I went home with a big smile on my face. Being amongst my DD family had ignited some stupid ideas. I texted Scott and despite not being able to make the Saturday, I asked him to quiz Trudi as to whether I could just turn up on Sunday and race. I hadn’t REALLY been able to afford the trackday, which was fricken pricey..and I sure as hell couldn’t really afford to drive back to Donny and race. I was sure that I was just asking based on what I wished I could do.
Scott was a star and answered all of my questions via Truderama, and I thanked him for it.
So , naturally, over the next few days, my mind started to become more accustomed to the idea of actually entering the races on the Sunday. Because I couldn’t make the Saturday qualifying, I would have to start from the back, but what the hell. I kept an eye on the weather forecast as I sure as shizzle didn’t want to spend money I didn’t have on a rainfest..and things looked good.
I nervously packed the bike into the van…found some stupidly small numbers at a local DIY store to fit onto the miniscule RSV4 tail piece and drank beer, desperately trying to talk myself out of such a foolish and potentially embarrassing venture. It was coming up to 4 years since my last race. EEeeeeeeepp!
Sunday morning, I awoke to my alarm at 5am and checked the weather. Sunny all day. Fook it, I was going to do it and damn the consequences.
It was a beautiful bright morning and I was actually very calm on the journey. I arrived, unloaded and started to prep the bike. Jim later told me that he had woken, opened the curtains on his caravan and seen Tim Pritchard working on a DD bike. He decided to go back to sleep as he was clearly dreaming. Ha Haaaaaaa!
Scrutineering and signing on went without a hitch and I even got a very warm and welcoming hug from Trudi as she did a double take when I strolled into the office. Nice to feel welcome.
I noticed Matt Lobb had turned up for the day and it transpired that we would both be lining up on the back row of the grid in about 30th place. I sportingly asked how his collarbone was feeling and alluded to the fact that it would be awful to break it again so soon. Actually, I didn’t..but probably should have..just for a laugh.
Morning warm up was at 9:30 and I felt pretty good during it, especially as my wheels were completely out of alignment. Borrowing Jim’s straight edges cured that and I just tried to relax in anticipation of the first race.
Then the clouds started to roll in and looked very black. This wasn’t in the plan. I had spent the money I had saved for a holiday on this sheeeit…and wasn’t best pleased.
Fortunately, when our race was called, the weather was just fine. I felt extremely nervous and played toilet tennis with Scott’s monkey, “Blommers” I was impressed that he was so domesticated and frankly, had expected him to be crapping into his hands and throwing it at random spectators.
I won’t lie. As I rolled up to the holding bay, I was messing myself. Despite being on the back of the grid and having the excuse of that, I knew that people would judge me on the basis of what I had done 4 years previously. I really didn’t want to let myself down..but my back was already laughing at me and calling me a mid forties cripple.
Some things don’t change. I blasted off on the warm up lap and ran hard through the traffic. I always figured that I would rather crash on the warm up lap rather than not having the best advantage I could muster through the blessing of warm tyres on the first lap of the race proper!
I rolled onto the grid..tried not to hold my breath and focussed firmly on the lights.
Red goes on….red goes off…BOOM!...an Otei jack rabbit start.
Apparently, the commentator wasn’t used to my starts and gleefully declared that I had made a jump start as I had passed 2 rows before they had even started. Wrong!! Hahaha!
I waited as long as I could before braking into Redgate and drove as hard as I dare out and around Hollywood. The bike felt mint..and despite the tyres being about a year and a half old, they were driving hard and super sticky.
I chanced some close moves through the middle of a few guys down Craner and slotted up the inside of a few more into the old hairpin.
I hadn’t run wide though, and got Segamegadrive out and onto the run through Starkeys bridge and weaved through a few more chaps as we hurtled around Schwantz curve. A few more into Mcleans and the same into Coppice set me up for a great run down to Foggy’s Esses.
By the time we reached the Melbourne loop, I had moved up to 10th, just behind Jim Brian. As Jim was distracted by a loose wire sticking out of the tannoy speaker, I slipped up the inside and set off after Tim Sayers, who wasn’t hard to miss on his bright green Kawasaki looking machine.
Obviously, when you’ve had a few people to get by on the first lap, then the nearer you get to the front, the harder it is to pass. To be fair though, I think I had just about reached my speed limit for the weekend. Despite this I passed Tim into Coppice, got my head down and pulled a 2 second gap. Neal Catling and his friend, who I’m embarrassed to say’s name escapes me, had kindly agreed to man my pitboard and I had a good idea of where I was.  |