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Old 28-Apr-2005, 19:25
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WeeJohnyB WeeJohnyB is offline
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WJB\'s first ever race diary entry

Just to put you in the mood, here's my diary entry for my first ever race. I have over 140 pages of this covering my full first season, so there is a big chunk before and after this section.....hope you enjoy it.

The week leading up to the race was incredible….I don’t think I slept for more than one hour at a time. By the time the weekend came, I was exhausted. I lay awake thinking of all these big bad racers pushing little old me around the place, getting lapped, falling off, I could have given up at any time. Friday afternoon finally arrived and I set off early from work in central London on my little Honda VFR400R. The next day I was going to be a racer…unbelievable. As I weaved in and out the traffic, there were mopeds and couriers all over me, but I didn’t care – they weren’t racers, I am though. Excited or what?

Back home and the routine of packing and picking up started and several hours later, I’d finally picked them all up in the No Limits van and we were on the road up the M1 to Mallory Park in Leicestershire. James couldn’t drive the van as he had only recently passed his car test and Grundy wasn’t too keen, (read lazy *******!!!).

We arrived and found a spot in the paddock. Lesson number one...get there earlier next time. The paddock was packed, absolutely ram jam packed. I’d never been at a bike club race meeting, but I was struck by the activity, it’s like a small town going from race track to race track, very friendly atmosphere and people working on their bikes late into the night. The noise is one of the things that surprised me…the sound of 100’s of generators is very noisy indeed and it goes on up to the 11.30pm curfew and starts again immediately the curfew ends at 7.30am. We rammed our caravan into a space that wasn’t a space and got ourselves sorted, gazebo up, bikes on stands, tools and kit all at the ready. After a few beers to settle our nerves and reward ourselves for getting this far, we wandered round the paddock looking at the bikes. There are some awesome looking bikes and some amazing kit. Huge vans with massive awnings….er then we returned to our £150 caravan, the Loveshack…oh dear! I remember seeing a few CB500’s as we walked around the paddock and wondering how fast they were…they all looked more professional than us. We ended up in the bar for a couple more pints of anti-nerve juice until they chucked us out. Someone had the bright idea of walking the circuit’. It was dark, but the moon was out and you could see fairly well, hopefully the clear sky meant it was going to be dry the next day. I’d only been to Mallory once, but was confident that I knew it well enough as it’s quite small and easy to learn, although trackday lines and racing lines are different, as is the pace and the respect shown, or not as it happens. I couldn’t believe how crap the track surface was….all bumps and grooves from car and truck racing.

Back at the Loveshack and not a great deal of sleep, not because of my nerves, but because I discovered that Grundy snores like a ****ing horse fitted with an Akropovic exhaust…God he’s loud. I’m a very light sleeper, so all of us staying together in the ‘Loveshack’ was not going to work AT ALL!!!

It’s the morning of my first ever race. We followed Grundy around like little sheep, (or possibly lambs to the slaughter), doing everything he did a few seconds after him. There’s so much to do on the morning of a race, especially scrutineering. Grundy knew the drill, so we all trundled off to the scrutineering bay and waited in line for someone to push and pull at everything on the bike. I’d not realised that you need a ‘dog tag’ round your neck with your name and address on it, so we fashioned up something and scribbled my details on it and tied it around my neck with a bit of string. It did the job believe it or not.

The gap between scrutineering and the first practice session either seems like the ice age or it goes in about ten minutes. On this occasion, it lasted forever. We just sat about getting nervous. The paddock is full of people tinkering with bikes, engines rev, rev, rev bloody revving…boy it gets on your tits after a while….rev, rev, rev, rev, rev….shut the **** up, do they have to do that? We couldn’t hear the tannoy, so had to keep checking who was on the circuit.

Our practice session was called and all of a sudden a feeling of complete and utter blind panic comes across me. This is it, I’m going on circuit with a bunch of complete physco nutters. Kit on, bike fires up and we follow Grundy to the holding area – I knew exactly where it was, so why did I have to rely on Grundy showing me the way? We assembled in the holding area and were let out on track by the pit lane marshal. **** me, these guys don’t hang about…they were off like a shot. Grundy buggered off and James and I tentatively tip-toed out with our little orange jackets on. A couple of minutes later and there are bikes everywhere overtaking me on both sides, so close it makes you move out of their way at first. As you move one way, someone else is at your other side, so you eventually can’t do anything but keep still and let then pass you. **** me, I hope it’s not like this all the time, this is horrible. I was braking miles before anyone else and being overtaken at every corner. Eight minutes of mayhem and the session ends with the checkered flag and we all filter back to our caravans. **** that was something else. I’m not sure if I liked it or hated it. These guys take no prisoners, it’s so far from a trackday it’s not true and not like anything I could have prepared for.
James and I get off our bikes and just stare at each other shaking, before we burst out laughing. Time for a bit of brekkie, a quick fettle with the bike and then the long wait until our first race.

Grid positions are just drawn out of the hat for ‘Club’ events with New Era and we all end up fairly near to the back of the pack. Thank God we’re not near the front.

So what’s the objective for the first race…survive, keep it upright, don’t be last, keep Grundy in sight, even enjoy it….maybe not eh!

After more waiting around, our race is called and my nerves are now in tatters. I’ve been to the loo a dozen times, sat in silence, eyes far away somewhere in the distance. Kit on, orange novice bib on and we make our way to the holding area, dutifully following the master. The drill is…you go once round and form up in your grid position for a practice start, round once more and form up for the race proper. The ‘sighting lap’ seems to be ten times faster than the earlier practice session….where the hell has everyone gone? Back round to the grid and we all struggle to find our grid positions for the first time – there are no ‘brolly dollies’ to identify where to go, just a bit of paint on the track with a faded number on it. The guy with the red flag runs down the grid waving you off as you nail the throttle to get used to the start, this is the first time I’ve ever tried to take away quickly from standstill and I suddenly realise I'm totally shite at it. The grid is four bikes wide and the guys on my line are all off and round the first corner before I’m into second gear. ****, I’ve made a big mistake thinking I could do this. I’m going to be humiliated and give up after my first race. I’m not good enough to be here. Just come off and go home now John…..oh **** we’re all the way round already and I’m sitting on the grid.

All the people that were on the pit wall have all mysteriously disappeared and it’s just us and the starter and some tumbleweed. Oh ****, I’m shitting myself, but there’s no time for thinking…..the guy with his red flag walks off the front of the grid and points up at the starter on the gantry above. The engine noise goes from rev, rev noisy to utterly deafening as everyone puts it to the max and holds it there in anticipation of the lights going off, you can feel the noise. Head and chest leaning all the way forward over the tank, holding my breath, eyes staring without blinking at the lights, right foot down, left foot up, clutch back to the bar. The red lights go on, stay on and on and on and…..****ing hell…we’re off!!!

Suddenly from being all organised and nicely formed up on the grid, it’s now complete and utter mayhem. Screaming bikes seem to be going in all directions around me. What was a bit like sitting at a set of traffic lights on a rideout with your mates has just turned into coming out of Donington on MotoGP day surrounded by a thousand other bikes and all trying to maintain 80mph in one lane. Thirty bikes have turned into about a hundred and there’s not a spare bit of tarmac anywhere in front of me. I gas it as hard as I can, but everyone else seems to know something I don’t as they fly off into the distance. (read cheat, as the guys at the back of the grid tend not to wait for the red lights to go out). As we tip it in for the first bend, bikes are passing me on both sides. There are elbows and feet everywhere. There is no ‘racing line’ unless I missed something at the briefing, the rule appears to be ‘there are no rules’.

Someone hits another bike in front of me as the first guy slows for the corner and the guy behind doesn’t. The guy in the front doesn’t seem to have noticed or cared as he just keeps the bike pinned, but the guy at the back is all over the place, out of his seat, feet completely off the pegs, bike out of control, but he’s still full on the throttle, no backing off whatsoever and he continues to bash the guy in front until he literally pushes past him. Someone else has gone straight on and has parted company with his bike and is bouncing about on the grass. As I go around the first long right-hander, Gerrards, trying to hold a line, there are people still overtaking on both sides.

Things get worse as we head for the new chicane Edwinas. It’s really tight, so there’s not much room for more than one bike following another on a trackday, but that doesn’t seem to bother anyone. I definitely have the wrong rule book as it looks like riding on the grass is perfectly legitimate. Sod the tarmac, people are all over the place and I do a bit of grass tracking to avoid someone that’s gone down in front of me. His bike is still spinning, but he’s up and running, trying to get out of the way of a dozen maniacs. ********, which way is he going, left or right. I go right and he goes left. Lucky for me, but the two guys that were just in front of me aren’t so lucky – one hits the bike on the floor as it’s still spinning and he goes clean over the handlebars and the other guy has both feet off the pegs with his balls on the handlebars as he brakes as hard as he can, so I make up at least three places at one corner, doddle this racing lark, if it stays like this, I should just cruise round waiting for the carnage in front of me to clear and I’ll win – hurrah!!!

Out of Edwinas and full on the gas, woops there goes another one, he’s gassed it too quickly and his back end has shot out just to the point of high-siding, but he’s still on the bike and I’ve got the drive on him out of the corner. Throttle pinned three times around the grip, head on the handlebars, arse in the air, it’s gas it on the stop all the way to a very tight hairpin. Strangely two bikes come along side me at the braking point. Not sure how they managed that on 49.5bhp when I left the corner on full power, but that’s a story for later. For now, it’s a case of who’s going to give way. Well obviously it’s me. I’m what I think is hard on the brakes when the guy on my outside goes past me doing a rolling stoppie, back wheel high in the air. He’s overcooked it and can’t turn the bike on one wheel, so he goes straight on, stopping just in time to stay on the track and turn the bike, but I’ve got the line, well I thought I had, until the guy on the inside of me keeps pace with me into the corner. Just at the point that I want to turn in, he’s sitting on my bit of tarmac, so I start to turn the bike and at that moment experience my fist ever bit of contact. It seems that he thinks as he’s on the inside that he has the racing line and because I’m marginally in front of him, I think I have the line and before I can call a meeting to discuss it, he’s wacked into me, hitting my leg, then the handlebars and now we’re locked in a comical wrestling match as we both try to disengage ourselves from each other. Meanwhile Matey Boy who tried to take me on the outside has got it back together again and seized the moment to pass both of us. Now if you’ve done Mallory before, you’ll know that what I have just described happened in about twenty feet of track on the tightest hairpin in the UK.

So now the three of us are heading for the Bus Stop, a left/right/left plastic chicane designed to slow you down for the Devils Elbow. There’s no way three of us will make it and I’m not about to be hit again, so I bottle it and let them both go. As we flick it left and right one after the other like a display team, I can’t help but notice that the guy in front has a shiny new orange bib on, just like mine…*******! Well this just gets me going big time, we’re both first timers and there’s no way I’m playing second fiddle to him. As we come out of the Bus Stop, I bring the bike upright and pin it over the apex bumps and short shift up a gear for the off camber, down hill, left hander approaching. As I get myself back in the CB500 prone position, I’m a few feet from Mr Orange in front of me. I’m concentrating like mad, eyes on stalks, not sure if I’ve taken a breath since the red lights went out. I’m thinking I’ll maybe stick behind him for a while, stay out of trouble, it is my first race after all and my intention was not to be last, well that’s been achieved in the first few corners, so the second intention was to stay upright, so maybe I should just get used to it and potter round.

Well we approach Gerrards full on the gas, down a gear, dab of the brakes, no idea if I’m in the right gear or not, or if you’re supposed to brake, but Mr Orange has slowed more than I’d like to, so I take him on the inside and tip it into the corner. As we go around, I’m beginning to increase the revs and going faster than I’ve ever gone round Gerrards and go past Matey Boy on the outside, yeehaa!!!

Things are looking great, just up to the point where I realise that I’m drifting to the outside of the track. Bugger, the grass is getting closer and closer and just as we’re coming out onto the straight, I can’t hold it any longer and decide to pick the bike up and go onto the grass. The alternative was to try to make it, and maybe not, and end up on the grass anyway, but lent over and not in control, so survival reaction 73 kicks in and I sit the bike up. Grass is not sticky, so I touch nothing, no brakes, gears or change in throttle and I bounce along the grass for about thirty metres, just waiting for the bike to go down, I’m going pretty fast at this point, waiting until I can slowly turn the bike and get back on the black stuff. As I do, I sort of sense someone on the track to my right, but didn’t look, just pinned it towards Edwinas again.

Hard on the brakes and someone comes up my left on the inside, it’s feckin Matey Boy again. This takes me by surprise as I thought the rule was that once you’d passed someone, they had to stay behind you!!! He’s taking the ****. In a nano-second, I was suddenly aware of some inner strength, some reaction in my brain that I’d never tapped into before and as we went into the corner together, I leant on him, shoulder to shoulder.

This is the point when I became a racer. He gave in and I triumphantly entered the corner first. That was the last I saw of Matey Boy or Mr Orange and the rest of the race settled down as all the fast guys did their stuff and left me to cruise round with nobody in front of me for about 100 metres. I’ve no idea what lap I’m on and have forgotten how many laps the race is, or indeed to look out for the last lap flag, but at some point, three bikes come past me like I’m on a Honda 50 and I get lapped. They gave me plenty of room and seemed to be riding on air, they were so smooth. I can’t believe it, I’ve been lapped, (as it happens by the guys on the 600 Hornets). Suddenly the chequered flag is being waved and the race over in about ten seconds flat. Wow!!! Done it….I’m a racer!!! Mission accomplished.

The bikes all have to sit in ‘parc ferme’ to be checked by the scrutineers, so we all lean our bikes against the wall and remove our helmets. At this point, I’m totally shagged, I’m sweating buckets and shaking, but I must have had the biggest grin on my face – that was utterly awesome, I am well and truly hooked on this, what an adrenalin rush. I’m looking around for Grundy and James, but no sign of them, when some guy comes up to me and says ‘well done, that was brilliant’ – it’s Matey Boy. We stand yapping at each other, both talking at the same time, when James appears. I didn’t quite get his first couple of words, but I think I heard ‘reckless *******’ somewhere in there. Turns out James is Mr Orange!!! Apparently when I came back on the circuit after my excursion onto the grass at Gerrards, James was right behind me and I nearly took him out as I torpedoed myself back onto the track. After being neck and neck for the first lap, James reckoned I cleared off after Edwinas – the same time that I removed my brain and replaced it with the Tasmanian Devil.

For the next 40 minutes, James and I talk jibberish about it non-stop then all troop over to the race control office in search of the results sheet. Big anticipation, where did I come, where was James, where was Grundy? James was second last and actually got a DNF (did not finish) as he was more than a lap behind the race winner, so technically only did 7 of the 8 laps – he’s not happy at all. Grundy was 9th. He got fed up listening to the excited novices sounding like they’ve just had sex for the first time and so he went off to speak to the proper racers he already knew from last year. I’ve achieved a few of my objectives, I’ve survived and I’m not last - 16th to be precise. Who cares, I’ve finished a race.

Well that’s it, I’ve been in a proper motorcycle race. Job done, feeling really pleased with myself until Grundy reminds me we have to do it all again after lunch. Don’t really feel hungry somehow. A quick lunch and it’s time for race two.

It was somehow different doing it all over again. I knew what to expect, but it didn’t make it any easier. I got a 12th place which I was pleased with. So after hours of packing up again, off we went home, all of us happy that the first race was out of the way and that the bikes were all in one piece.

Next stop Snetterton for another ‘Club’ meeting. I was hyper at work. ‘What did you do at the weekend?’ ‘I mowed the lawn, did some DIY and watched some TV’, ‘Oh really, that sounds nice….I raced a motorcycle around Mallory Park’. It felt good after all this time to have actually done it, stayed upright and not been last. I knew I could go faster as well and had Grundy in my sights for Snetterton.

To be continued.........

WeeJohnyB
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Old 28-Apr-2005, 19:33
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Rob B Rob B is offline
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WJB,

Top write up, bring on the next installment.

DD'ers,

WJB hsa set the bar for Monday's reports.

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Old 28-Apr-2005, 19:42
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Johny! - bloody good write up!

C
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Old 28-Apr-2005, 19:44
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Nice one WJB - certainly gets my pulse going

And I should be finishing all the packing! I'm off in the morning.
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Old 28-Apr-2005, 20:57
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marko marko is offline
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riviting stuff WJB when the next installment?
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Old 28-Apr-2005, 23:37
Desmodueracer Desmodueracer is offline
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Top read - if the racing/trackdays come to an end, have you thought of being an after dinner speaker?

Brilliant
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Old 29-Apr-2005, 00:36
Old Yella Old Yella is offline
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WJB
That was absolutely ****ing hilarious.
Liz had to ask me to stop laughing I was giggling so much.
That has to be one of the best laughs I have had for ages.
If the DD boys have that to look forward to I wish I had done it now!
TOp write up and if you didnt scare em to death they might have died laughing already.
Cant wait to see TP leaning on someone going into the hairpin, any volunteers? :P :P :P
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Old 29-Apr-2005, 01:14
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Quote:
Originally posted by Old Yella
Cant wait to see TP leaning on someone going into the hairpin, any volunteers? :P :P :P

I've got a few in mind
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Old 29-Apr-2005, 01:18
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Great write up fella - its also reminded me to find my dog-tags - nice one
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Old 29-Apr-2005, 12:13
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Good stuff John, should have been in Pronto. Did you get my email re TA4?
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