Ducati Sporting Club UK > DesmoDue Race Series > DesmoDue - General Questions and Chat > The Otei Report: His Race Frig.

[Otei]

I love Cadwell.

As a small child, my mother used to dress me up in a bunny outfit, smear my face with rabbit droppings to make me fit in, and leave me with the furry critters that inhabit its grounds for weeks on end.

It was an excellent schooling, and the circuit knowledge gained from my roadkill rodent adoptive relatives would serve me well in future years....well except for the ability to cross the road. Being runover 73 times in 38 years has been a strain on my Mother and not done my back any good at all.

Herr Oberleutenant Craig Fisher had just returned from an SS meeting devoted to the use of the occult to exterminate of all Rabbits, and had succeeded in making pavement pizza out of at least 500 in his Panzer tank, en route to Cadwell Park. Saturday was spent hiding in the fenland foliage, pointing his occult camera of doom at unsuspecting racers and thinking up imaginative anagrams of his name to use as amusing race report titles.

As this was another home round, we had decided to set up a decent size HQ again. So once again, my Dad came and helped me set everything up on the Friday afternoon, with only the merest of moans.

Chas was already camped up, and had been for some weeks, the vicitim of a cruel hoax by Rattler and Jimbers, who had told Chas there was going to be a wet T shirt competition at Cadwell for 60+ year old women. His Old spice and Hai Karate supply had dwindled to dangerously low levels, partly due to donning it daily in the vain hope of securing a "mature orchid" and partly because he had finished his 16 crates of red wine and moved onto the aftershave as a substitute.

We quickly set up the huge white tent, got some rubber swapped over by Mark at Holbeach and made our escape as Chas was donning his dark black crooners wig, shiny tight black trousers and singing "Gold" by Spandau Ballet whilst simultaneously flicking reeky aftershave bogies at passers by.

It was testament to Kev and Trudi Palmers good nature that they didn't just kick me directly in the love nuggets the minute I turned up at their van the next morning. We'd secured the tent via tie downs to their van wheels and as the winds had reached New Orleans proportions in the night, Kev had been forced into an underpant wearing rescue mission in the middle of the night as it did more banging than Ron Jeremy did in his entire career. Sorry folks!

Qually was going to be a weird one. It was cold and windy. Very windy.

As per usual, I set off at the head of the field and got my head down, just sussing out where the wind was worst. It seemed that it was very keen to have you make friends with the scenery at Coppice, Chris curve and into the Gooseneck the most. I pulled a gap over the pursuing pack and figured I'd done pretty well, cos I just couldn't see anyone. You can imagine how amused I was when Shep had gotten pole, with Sam West and Angry Challis heading the front row off, then me in 4th. Oh well, I was on the outside run at least.

Tracey Sheppard sauntered past and clearly hadn't forgiven me for my Pembrey pole. She turned her back, pulled down her trousers and let out the most titanic fart you ever heard.

"Scared of a little wind?" she cackled.

I scurried off to get the air freshener, the guests were gonna be here soon.

As it turned out, people were wisely waiting until the Sunday to come, they'd seen the weather forecast and only Chris P and cathy P, My Mum and Dad and Kate's Mum and Dad, Dave Dunn and Rob Smith were dumb...er, I mean brave enough to come and get chapped lips in the name of supporting the Otei!

Race 1 then.

It was still super windy, but thankfully, rain hadn't been added to the already diabolical meteorological recipe.

Lights on, lights out....great start.

Nearly had enough on Shep to make a pass but decided to let him suss the first lap out.

We were close for the first circuit and I felt confident, as Shep didn't seem to be his usual smooth self and was overly defensive already. We headed into hall bends and I had the most unusual sensation in my anus....er, I mean I felt something slide up my crack...wait...erm....the frickin seat was stuck up my back like a cockerel's tail and all I needed was a pair of tits and a moustache to look just like one of those munters they have in Streetfighter magazine's centre pages on bodged up Gixxers. Balls!

I pulled in at the old hairpin and got off the bike. The bracket that we use to attach it at the back had stress fractured and cracked, allowing it to come undone and nearly fly off as I'd lifted my arse out of the seat over the mountain. I put it back in place and was just about to get back on and re-join the race.

Suddenly, a man dressed as Worzel Gummidge came running out of the woods screaming "eleventy twelve" and "cup 'o' tea and a slice of cake, Aunt Sally?" I shat myself, but thankfully a marshall clapped him straight in the grill with a broom and wandered over to me.

"Is that seat secure now?", he enquired.

"Yep", I lied.

I got back on and wondered if I could still get into the podium positions?

I started to reel people in, and the less observant figured I was some sort of riding God that was lapping them within 3 laps, which I thought was hilarious.

I closed down and passed Kev Ellis, then saw Steve Hands ahead and wondered if it was just Paul Payne and Shep to go. I passed Steve and then Ghost and Jason Boswell (nice to see you back dude!), but couldn't quite nip past Dallas "Queequeg" Hornblow over the line. Despite having to keep my backside on the seat at all times, I set the fastest lap as well, by 2 seconds.

Chris P and Andy Challis did a magnificent job of fixing the seat unit (cheers chaps) and we were ready for race 2.

It turned out that we were fighting for the biggest trophies you ever did see. The guys at Holbeach had persuaded different people (including John McGuiness) to sponsor the individual trophies, but instead of delivering trophies to Cadwell, there had been a mix up with the garden centre and a load of oversized silver bird baths had been sent instead. Seriously, you could bathe an infant Giraffe in the winners cup!

Long story short, they were awarding a single trophy over the aggregate race times from the 2 races that day. This made Shep uncatchable for 1st unless he binned it, but in order to gain 2nd place, I would have to beat Paul Payne by over 23 seconds in order to grab the 2nd placed bird bath. Hmmm, I'll give it a go then.


Race 2 start and once again Shep just got the drop on me, but I got Segamegadrive out of Charlies and crept past on the way down Park straight. I was so close that I could probably have clearly read the copy of Hustler I knew he had taped to his tank (I only read the articles). Naturally, I was still gash on the brakes into Park, and Shep just sailed past as he had in August.

Once again, he was covering lines well and I followed him super closely. At one point we came over the mountain, and I got a great run on him. The front wheel aviated and I had it sat directly over his back wheel, about two feet above it. Mental.

I backed off and landed it with a shimmy just behind him. We came out of Barn and I got a good enough drive to slip up the inside on the run to Coppice. A good run through Charlies and leaving my braking super late into Park allowed me to make the break and start to put a gap in.

By lap 6 I had a 9 second lead over Shep, and Chris was showing me that I'd pulled 32 seconds on paul Payne, so I was in place to grab the second placed pot.

Then, as I came down the start finish straight, the bike died..."Braaaaagggghh!"...just like Oulton. I couldn't believe it as I coasted to a halt on the outside of Coppice. The Marshall ran over as I was desperately searching for a solution.

"Ten seconds and I'm gonna have to get you to move it mate!"

I looked at the kill switch.....Muppet, I'd switched my own bike off. I could hear the commentator mentioning my name as I re-joined the race and imagined my wife was busily preparing lunch packs to place at each corner for the next days races, just in case I decided to stop off for a break. Unreal, just what was going on today?

Amazingling, I kept 2nd in class and finished 5th overall, once again setting a fastest lap of 1:48.46. I was happy with that, especially as it was still really windy.

I didn't hide my gaff, because I figured it was hilarious.

PART 2 to follow.