The last track day was supposed to be a time to sort things out and get more familiar with the bike. Instead, I had brake problems, and then a holed radiator. I ended the day just as frustrated with the bike as at the start of the day.



Yesterday was the first day of the latest WMRRA weekend, and I was looking forward to getting some more time on the bike to get things sorted. It is taking me a lot of time to learn to understand this bike.



The day started out dry, and both Paul and I were having decent sessions. Paul is doing much better on his Triumph. Lesson learned- don't change everything and expect to be just as good as before you changed everything. My boots were finally getting broken in, my gloves felt better, and the adjustments to pegs and shifter helped a lot.



The first session was cold, as it is in Seattle in the spring. Since the track was cold, I didn't push too hard in the first practice session. It was warmer and I felt a lot better about the bike in the second session, and was beginning to wick it up a bit. The work I had done on the brakes seemed to be paying off. But, about halfway through the session, I had a serious lapse of concentration and ended up looking where I didn't want to go instead of where I wanted to go. It led to an excursion into the gravel, and I thought I could save it by standing on the pegs and just riding it out. Unfortunately, I got a little sideways and when the tires hit pavement again as the track wrapped back around, there was no saving it. The bike ended up upside down in a dirt bank. At that point, I started considering taking up knitting. Except knitting uses sharp tools, so maybe stamp collecting.



Getting back to the paddock meant taking some razzing, but I set about finding replacements for the broken parts. The damage wasn't bad- a bent clip on, a broken kill switch, and body damage, mostly to the tail section. The fairing stay was bent, but I could bend it back to a reasonable shape without too much trouble. The Vortex clip on bar was easy to replace, and I was thinking about duct tape for the tail section. I couldn't find a right side switch gear pod, so it didn't matter what else I could fix.



In the mean time, Paul toasted his clutch practicing starts. He had a great race anyway, crashing out trying to make a pass for first place on the last lap. He was having a great time until he crashed. Neither of us was in a great mood on the way home, and it had started to rain in the afternoon, making it even gloomier.



When we got home, I set about repairing the bike, and Paul decided to corner work if he couldn't ride. The bike came with a spare set of bodywork when I bought it, and I hadn't prepared the tail section from the spare set. It got a quick sanding and a rattle can paint job, I made a new kill switch using a rocker from Radio Shack and some purple duct tape my brother just happened to have, and epoxied up a few holes in the catch pan.



This morning, I got up at 4:00 to get finished with the repairs and get everything reloaded. I got it all done about fifteen minutes before Paul came by. The morning was cloudy, but the clouds thinned as time went on. Paul gave me a load of grief about finding ways to get out of racing in the rain. I told him he had to be more strategic about his crashing.



We got to the track, and set up the paddock, then Paul went to corner work and I headed through tech again. I was late for the novice practice, but my intention was to make sure everything was working, including my brain. Crashing messes with your mind, and my mind was throughly messed with. I went out for four or five laps, and then pulled in because the brakes were OK, the bike was handling OK, and I felt like I could ride it without being a danger to anybody. Because I had got very little sleep, I tried to nap in the back of the van, but the generator noise was too much. I gave up getting any rest, and wandered around the paddock talking to people to spend the time before my race.



One person I talked to, a woman who is a very fast and skillful rider, gave me the perfect words of wisdom to settle me back down. She looks for what she calls sky markers in corners and periodically around the track. The sky markers are a bit above the horizon line, and if you can see them, it means you are looking up, not down at the track. I had been looking at the asphalt, looking for apex markers, brake markers, and so on. Looking at these specific markers meant my field of vision was narrow, instead of broad. Getting away from the incremental markers widened the track, relaxed my field of vision, and made riding a whole lot more fun.



Another big help came from my brother. He got me laughing about how slow and noisy the vintage bikes were, especially the 160s. They make a huge racket, but not a lot of motion. Laughter brought more relaxation and less unnecessary focus on details, riding problems, the bike, and all the other little things I was caught up in.



When the novice race came around, I was keyed up, but not nearly as badly as the day before. It may have been a combination of fatigue, advice about sky markers, laughter, or something else, but I got my best start to date. A few people passed me, but I also passed a few people at the start. That hasn't happened before. I was gridded toward the rear, and there was mayhem in the first corners, as usual. I let it unfold and just rode to stay out of trouble until it cleared out. I came up on another rider on an SV650. I was still nervous about leaning the bike too much, and I still didn't have complete confidence in the brakes, but finding a rider to get around was enough to overcome some of it. I could get past him on the straights, when he gave me room, but the first time I got past him, he cut back under me the next corner, and closed the door. I tried getting him on the brakes down into turn 3, but he knew I was coming and altered his line, forcing me to brake much harder than I wanted to.



After a few laps, we came up on another rider who held both of us up. After a few more attempts to pass, the white flag came out. I had a choice between two options. Ride the last lap where I was and finish or find a way to make the pass. I was feeling enough better about everything that option two seemed like the better idea. I dove under the first bike into turn 1 and almost got the second one into 2. He held his ground, but I got him into turn 3. Once they were out of the way, I was able to open up the throttle all the way and get away. I didn't see much of anybody else until the checker. The fast guys were all probably parked in the paddock by the time I got to the finish line, but it didn't matter. Finishing the race was so much fun I have forgotten any ideas about taking up knitting or stamp collecting.