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| #1  05-Jun-2005, 00:06 | ||||
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| Castle Combe race report I don't think anyone knew what to expect of this round. After the appalling tragedy of Dave Harris it really felt like the whole of the DSC had been shaken. In true DSC, and human, spirit everyone pulled to together to lift the day and give us another great day of racing. Thanks to everyone who made the effort, supported those that needed it, and thrashed the living daylights off their trusty steeds to provide the crowd with thrills, DSC-style. We arrived after torrential rain to a drying and nearly empty paddock, and made camp near the CK & AK, and the Cann brothers, pitching our tent in the last of the evening sun. Fordie and the rest of Team F3 turned up shortly afterwards and the big bad barbie was sparked up for a major meat-fest, not exactly what most sportsmen would prescribe but bloody tasty and just the stuff to compliment the beer.  A fair bit banter, bodgit'n'scarper mechanicing, and last minute tweeks and it was time for a snooze to the traditional DD accompaniment of the sound of rain. As usual the day started early, really bloody early, with the watch telling me it was 4.16am and what sort of a bloody idiot was I getting up at this time. A quick reconsider and I managed to sneek another 2 hours of shuteye before the day finally dragged me out of bed. A quick trackwalk with Paul (pyschlist) to look at the bit of trarmac that I would later get to know all too well and it was back to base for scrutineering, the latter including a soundcheck that saw my heavily baffled exhaust pumping out a sewing-machine like 97db. Back to the tent and it was out with the baffle and time to get prepped for practice. Over the last few weeks I had managed to commit the cardinal sin amongst racers of changing almost every setting on the bike without testing any of them, and untimed practice reminded me of exactly why this was such a bad idea. The bike felt bloody awful, flighty at the front, wooden brakes, tyres squirming all over the place, leaving me floundering, trying desperately to work out which bit to tackle first. Unfortunately there was no time to do anything before timed practice so I had to run the same settings, with worse coming early in the session when my back brake dissappeared through the floor, making me realise just how much I've been relying on it to drag into corners. Despite the decay of the bike I managed to get a decent lap in and made 7th on the grid, a position I wouldn't of dreamt of three months ago and one I'll have to try bloody hard to beat for the rest of the season. Again time wasn't on my side to do any major changes, but I did get the chance to chop my 41t sprocket for a 42t in order to put the bike in the right revs on the back section of the course. I really wanted to change the tyres, despite there being loads of tread left, but there was no way I'd have the time before the first race. Out on the warmup lap and I could feel my confidence taking a nose-dive, the bike really wasn't right and my passion for the race had obviously been left in the glovebox of the trusty Saab. The grid formed and I had chance to appreciate being close to the quick boys, all the while knowing I didn't stand a chance of staying with them after Folly. It's nice at the sharp end, even when you know it'll be short-lived! The lights went out and Phil and I got flying starts, miles better than my Cadwell wheelie fests. Unfortunately, so did many others. Nick seemed to come from nowhere at rocket speed and had passed us within a couple of metres, shortly followed by Paul Payne as his bike went into overdrive. Despite ragging my bike silly I arrived into Quarry about three places down and set about clawing my way back towards the pack. For several laps I kept reeling in Paul only to make stupid errors, once for an excursion onto the grass, and once missing the last chicane all together with a lurid tailslide and last minute rescue. On each lap I found myself sniffing at Paul's back tyre on the last corner only to watch him pull a good 50m out on straight. Knowing I could outbrake Paul I made it a mission to bag him, but forgot all about the bike's reticence to play ball until my next trip to Quarry. Having held the throttle just that little bit too long over Avon Rise I ran a touch deep in to Quarry, loaded up the front, chucked my shoulder over front right and watched as the ground got closer, closer and closer. All went slow-mo and I found myself sliding behind my bike thinking "oh ********, not more painting!". It was actually really nice to sit on the tyrewall watching the race, with one of the marshalls coming over to say how great it was to see the Dukes all together. Even during the race several riders took time out to give me the thumbs-up and check all was well, something highly unlikely to occur without the club involvement, at the same time taking the edge off the disappointment of another DNF. Riding back to the pits and it was clear that things needed to change. My confidence in the tyres was gone, but I realised half of it was probably down to running too much ride-height at the back causing the front to tuck-under at severe lean angles. I needed to make some changes, both for the bike and for my head, so new tyres, dropped ride height and a freshly bled front-brake were accomplished with the help of the supremely helpful Jason, Lee and, of course, Fordie. Does he ever stop? Back out for Sound of Thunder and I got to see the grid from the other end. I was already pretty pleased with 18th on the grid, but things got even better with a flyer of a start. As we headed off towards Folly I found myself attached to the back of a SoT front-runner, unfortunately he must have had to make a sudden direction change and we came together heavily just as I snicked fifth. Grass was the only option, and I found myself gliding along at over 100mph on wet grass. Scared? I nearly had a heart attack! I gently nursed her back on track but ended up at Quarry in second to last. The rest of the race was spent mugging the stragglers before finishing a reasonable 22nd, mostly due to a transformed bike. My one major frustration was a several lap battle with a 996 (No. 166) which I couldn't quite catch. All too quickly we were out for the second DD race and once again I got a flyer, only to be passed by the same lot all over again. Don't know why I bother with qualifying! Phil however showed how it should be done and made his start stick, bugger all power but the boy's got determination coming out of every pore. For the next couple of laps I focussed on clawing my way forward. I was tucked in behind Nick for ages, all the time with Mark Hill breathing down my neck. I had visions of being help up all race but finally managed to snick through and get on with the serious job of catch Mr Payne. Unfortunately Mr Hill had the same idea and obviously got bored of waiting for me to make the move. I held hard left over Avon Rise hoping to get more drive later in the corner, Paul took the middle line into Quarry, and Mark wandered through the huge open door and mugged both of us. Lovely to watch, but a bugger as I had lost another place without getting Paul. Again, I knew there were several sections where I was faster, but didn't really have the power to make it stick on the straight. Racing, fortunately, isn't all about outright power, something that Mark had just demonstrated perfectly, and I knew that if I kept pressing then Paul would either be forced into an error or just get too mentally tired of being badgered. I finally got past, pulled out a few bike lengths, and came home a very happy eighth. As everyone around me started packing up I decided there was more fun to be had out on track in the final SoT race. Sure enough I came into Quarry nestled up behind my old friend No. 166. The power difference out of the corners was laughable, but there were several areas where he could have held plenty more cornerspeed, so I put my hunting cap on and filled myself with Desmo Due evangelical spirit. Lap after lap went by with me, litteraly, sniffing his exhaust. Working on the same logic that had reeled in Paul in the last race I kept the pressure on and he finally cracked a couple of laps from the end. I may have only improved one place from the previous SoT race, but it was hard won and worth every ounce of sweat. All in all a great day. Less points than I would've liked, but great club spirit and some fine battles. Huge thanks go out to everyone that helped me (as always!), but special mentions go to Jason for downing tools last Thursday night to help get the bike ready and printing the DH11 stickers, Saara for putting up with my toys-out-of-the-pram comments, James (Jamcoly) for his help all day, and all the usual crew for their support and jokes (mostly at my expense....). Cheers, Ali [Edited on 4-6-2005 by ali]  |
| #6 05-Jun-2005, 01:10 | ||||
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domski
skidlids
Well done yesterday 4D
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