EXIT3DC swarms Summit Point!
Watch out for the toe...
Pebble's POV
Its 7:30. Grey skies loom overhead and the brisk breeze is damp and cold-as-a-witches-tit. Time to slap some numbers on these machines and get our asses to tech inspection.
Pope Paul scrawls a primal "999" on the white duct tape covering the Duc's nose. J starts ripping up thin strips of black tape and applying a mirror-image EEE! (333) to his 6. I smugly pull a kit of number plate 7's out of my tool bin.
***
This was about the only thing that is going smoothly for me during preparation for our Exit3DC track session! Without going into infuriating flashbacks... It is sufficient to say that my SV was pulled apart, partially re-assembled... Tenacious D's sister SV was partially dismantled using all manner of long rods and pissed off air tools... Only to be stumped at a chain without a master link (since my sprockets didn't make it in time, the plan was to bogart a driveline from D). So this was how I ended up (nervously) hurtling D's near virgin-bone-stock SV around the bends and bumpy concrete slabs of Summit.
All grumbly and half awake (or asleep) - we loaded up the trailer and piled into Crazy J's king-cab for our dash to the track. Rain spritzed on and off during the drive. We were not looking forward to the possibility of a rain-out or sketchy conditions.
Andy and Dallas were calmly chillin' in the pits when we pulled up and quickly prepared for registration and tech inspection.
***
Paul upgrades his Sharpie 999 to a more civilized duct-tape emblem.
Once we are all sporting spiffy tech inspection stickers on our front fenders, we let out a sigh of relief and set out to erect our ez-up. The wind whips our canopy like a bitch as we velcro the tabs in place. Still... There is no rain... We count our luck and greedily hope for some sunshine.
Rider's meeting
8:30am
Our beloved Borris (J's slightly large dog) attempts to walk in with us to get the latest and greatest news about NESBA rules and etiquette. Once Borris is persuaded to wait outside for us, the meeting begins. The NESBA peeps explain basic hand signals used by the control riders - who are the ones wearing the orange tees and herding us hapless squids around the track. Time an time again we hear the phrase (loosely) "we take safety seriously - if you screw around - you will be kicked out". So there will be no wheelies or burnouts in the pits today my friends. A few people are very concerned about the concrete "traction-strips" on the track. "If you stay on your line and on the strips... you'll be fine". Yah, and if you don't stay on the line and on the strips... Baghdad-class craters and ruts have our numbers on 'em. J and I are dismissed and the rest of the Exit3 crew stay to get a more detailed briefing for first time track riders.
By the time they return to our wind-torn canopies the expert class is out roaring around the track. J and I get ready and try to stretch our inflexible-asses out. *grunt* I help J shoe horn into his lovely RS Taichi with his back protector on - firmly establishing a rather painful looking male-camel-toe. Camel toe or not... This is one bad ass suit! J looks fast just sitting in the pits with his speed hump and top-shizz leather. I slapped some duct tape on my toes (lost those toe sliders somewhere along the way) and flip my pucks. Its cold as hell and we are hoping that the adrenaline and fear of cold-pavement low-sides will some how keep us warm! "WHoooonk! WHooonk! Group I up in 7 minutes!" blares over the PA.
Here we go
somewhere around 9:20am
J and I line up mid-pack in the "slow-lane" grid. No way am I gonna' charge out and bin D's virginal SV in this slippery morning session! Andy, Dallas and Paul must be getting out of the rider's meeting around now.
We watch as the track marshall waves out a series of control riders along with their 10 rider groups. Everyone seems to be easing out pretty chill. The sessions are held under a yellow flag (no passing - caution) for the first three laps.
BRRRRRP BRRRRP - D's borrowed SV quietly purrs up to speed down the straightaway. Its all coming back to me as the race gas fumes whips past me. Ease into the front brake way early and drop into turn one... Wow. The tires are cold and the SV bounces like a rubber ball over the concrete joints coming out of turn one. This is going to take some getting use to.
We tour around the track for a few more laps then the yellow goes in and we start to wind up the speed a bit. The tires feel brick hard and I'm feeling a bit stiff. There are a couple of headshaking moments (my head, not the bike's) as I burn into a few corners a bit quickly and don't get a good idea of what the tires are doing down there. Crap... Ran a bit wide on that line. I'm not getting up to any pace to start moving around on the bike.
Still... I'm STOKED to be out here on the track and I find myself tucking in close with the control rider for a few laps before he waves me by. Before too long, the white is waving... Then the checkered - and we come rolling into pit lane.
The control rider that I was hanging out with waves me over for a chat as J rolls into our compound. "Yes, that was a bit of a sketchy pass on the Triumph (don't forget this guy - he proved to be a bit of a twat out there) - but he took a really weird line into one and I wasn't feeling very good having him too close". "Yes, I'll just hang back next time". "Yes, I was entering a bit fast and I haven't gotten a good feel on the tires yet". "Thanks for the pointers". I was impressed at how much the control rider had watched me around the track and he had spot on suggestions and comments. This is a great deal! Kinda' wish I had done a few of these before I dove straight into racing! Would have saved me some crashing for sure...
J and I get off the bikes laughing and dancing around like couple a 'mos. *aachem*... "Yeah... it was a bit sketchy". "Let's go laugh at the other guys from pit wall!"
Sacrificial Track Virgins
somewhere around 9:20am
J and I get up to the pit wall and watch Andy Dallas and Paul (not necessarily in that order) circulate the track. Its a bit above jogging speed, but everyone looks comfortable. Remember that the weather is cold and damp at this point... Not encouraging for a track blast out. All 3 of 'em look the-absolute-shit in their spiff leathers and shiny sweet ass bikes. Andy looks a bit like Darth Vader meets Mad Max "mfffff-sshhhhh... mfffff-ssshhhh.... Max... I am your father".
We head back to our canopy and chill until the crew finishes out the session and rolls back in. Combos are eaten and the last of the Krispy Kreme (thanks Paul) find their way into my rumbling stomach.
We watch as the crew talks to the control rider. No doubt that there is good coaching going on there. Bikes roll up and the crew dismounts. "So how was it?!" ... ... "It was great... Its cold out there". No doubt a sphincter-clencher to head out there in these conditions for the first time. I hope everyone starts really enjoying this! How about some sun?!
'S All Good!
Later in the day
As the day goes on we all find our own comfortable groove. The sun even pokes through the clouds from time to time. Overall temperature came up and the tires start to feel good and grippy. Everyone is picking up the pace and polishing their technique. What a great day this is turning out to be! J and I watch as the crew mixes it up with other riders. "This almost as good as watching a race"! Says Crazy J... I have to agree - its damn fun - being on the track and then getting to watch your buds mix it up out there. Pretty damn cool.
I start to pick up the pace and get of the bike a bit as my tire confidence increases. I'm still not cranking the bike over full tilt - hopefully avoiding any mishaps. I have noticed that its a good idea to keep an eye on the other riders. This is not a full pop race and these guys can be a bit unpredictable. Best to keep some space in reserve in case I have to change my line/speed unexpectedly! The 955i Triumph becomes my nemesis on the track. (Its a really dark green if you are looking at the pics - number 267). Passing only on the outside is a risky proposition with his unpredictable lines, and the power of that lovely triple just eats up the SV in a straight. This leads to a lot of swapping back and forth as I try to turn my way away from the Trumpet only to be passed as soon as the tarmac straightens out. Usually I was able to ditch him in a few laps... Even better, J and I learned to grid at the FRONT of the line to roll away from the back grid and enjoy some open track!
Lunch and the girls
Noon-ish
Just a while after lunch is called and the sessions take a break - the girls show up with lunch. THANK GOODNESS. By this time my stomach was turning inside out and my energy was dropping to a negative level. Cat (my girlie) handed me the most delicious roast beef and mustard sandwich I've had in a looooooong time. Alycia (aka - Handfull) had driven them out and although there was some talk for unreadable hillbilly-gas-station directions and some detours, we were happy to see them (and not just for the food).
After stuffing our faces and mucking around for a while, we dropped the girls off on the infield where the spectating is good and got ready for our sessions...
A belly full
around 1pm
Lining up on the grid with a full belly and some sunshine felt great to me! Post session some of the guys said it felt weird getting back out there... And I can relate - I used to have problems not being as sharp or aggressive enough at races after lunch. But this is a track day! I'm havin' a blast... farting with joy around the track. The lack of sleep is starting to take its toll though. I reason that there will only be a few more sessions.
It would be nice to just make it out in one piece... Look back... and recall the sweet sensations of the track.
Then... IT happened.
I'm standing on pit wall with J... watching our crew roll by. Everyone's looking really sharp. A far cry from our morning trepidation. "Goddamn Dallas is lookin' good - check him out... crankin around turn 10 - damn - that's amazing". Dallas... I'm truly sorry. I offended the god of Murphy and jinxed your ass. After observing this for a handful of laps, J and I head back to chill in our Target recliners and munch on some junk food.
The girls are back in the pits with us and our crew comes rolling in from their session. I don't notice that Dallas is not among the crew until the crash truck pulls up.
SHIT.
There is a queasy feeling in my stomach as we unload the mud caked machine. There is also relief that Dallas is hopping off the crash truck (not the ambulance) on his own steam. Damn. This sucks.
Cathy commented later that it looked as if we all took turns going up and breaking the bad news "hey man... I'm sorry... Fido is dead".... Yeah, I guess its like that. Really puts a friggin' damper on the day!
J goes out for another round and I make it out for another 2... The lack of sleep and the jolt of Dallas' smack down effectively finish out the day for us.
Not that it ended on a bad note! We had an indescribably awesome day (I did - for sure) and I can't wait to do it again!
Check out the pics:
Farting around in the pits
Pebble's glamour shots (some of J in here too)!
Watch out for the toe...
Pebble's POV
Its 7:30. Grey skies loom overhead and the brisk breeze is damp and cold-as-a-witches-tit. Time to slap some numbers on these machines and get our asses to tech inspection.
Pope Paul scrawls a primal "999" on the white duct tape covering the Duc's nose. J starts ripping up thin strips of black tape and applying a mirror-image EEE! (333) to his 6. I smugly pull a kit of number plate 7's out of my tool bin.
***
This was about the only thing that is going smoothly for me during preparation for our Exit3DC track session! Without going into infuriating flashbacks... It is sufficient to say that my SV was pulled apart, partially re-assembled... Tenacious D's sister SV was partially dismantled using all manner of long rods and pissed off air tools... Only to be stumped at a chain without a master link (since my sprockets didn't make it in time, the plan was to bogart a driveline from D). So this was how I ended up (nervously) hurtling D's near virgin-bone-stock SV around the bends and bumpy concrete slabs of Summit.
All grumbly and half awake (or asleep) - we loaded up the trailer and piled into Crazy J's king-cab for our dash to the track. Rain spritzed on and off during the drive. We were not looking forward to the possibility of a rain-out or sketchy conditions.
Andy and Dallas were calmly chillin' in the pits when we pulled up and quickly prepared for registration and tech inspection.
***
Paul upgrades his Sharpie 999 to a more civilized duct-tape emblem.
Once we are all sporting spiffy tech inspection stickers on our front fenders, we let out a sigh of relief and set out to erect our ez-up. The wind whips our canopy like a bitch as we velcro the tabs in place. Still... There is no rain... We count our luck and greedily hope for some sunshine.
Rider's meeting
8:30am
Our beloved Borris (J's slightly large dog) attempts to walk in with us to get the latest and greatest news about NESBA rules and etiquette. Once Borris is persuaded to wait outside for us, the meeting begins. The NESBA peeps explain basic hand signals used by the control riders - who are the ones wearing the orange tees and herding us hapless squids around the track. Time an time again we hear the phrase (loosely) "we take safety seriously - if you screw around - you will be kicked out". So there will be no wheelies or burnouts in the pits today my friends. A few people are very concerned about the concrete "traction-strips" on the track. "If you stay on your line and on the strips... you'll be fine". Yah, and if you don't stay on the line and on the strips... Baghdad-class craters and ruts have our numbers on 'em. J and I are dismissed and the rest of the Exit3 crew stay to get a more detailed briefing for first time track riders.
By the time they return to our wind-torn canopies the expert class is out roaring around the track. J and I get ready and try to stretch our inflexible-asses out. *grunt* I help J shoe horn into his lovely RS Taichi with his back protector on - firmly establishing a rather painful looking male-camel-toe. Camel toe or not... This is one bad ass suit! J looks fast just sitting in the pits with his speed hump and top-shizz leather. I slapped some duct tape on my toes (lost those toe sliders somewhere along the way) and flip my pucks. Its cold as hell and we are hoping that the adrenaline and fear of cold-pavement low-sides will some how keep us warm! "WHoooonk! WHooonk! Group I up in 7 minutes!" blares over the PA.
Here we go
somewhere around 9:20am
J and I line up mid-pack in the "slow-lane" grid. No way am I gonna' charge out and bin D's virginal SV in this slippery morning session! Andy, Dallas and Paul must be getting out of the rider's meeting around now.
We watch as the track marshall waves out a series of control riders along with their 10 rider groups. Everyone seems to be easing out pretty chill. The sessions are held under a yellow flag (no passing - caution) for the first three laps.
BRRRRRP BRRRRP - D's borrowed SV quietly purrs up to speed down the straightaway. Its all coming back to me as the race gas fumes whips past me. Ease into the front brake way early and drop into turn one... Wow. The tires are cold and the SV bounces like a rubber ball over the concrete joints coming out of turn one. This is going to take some getting use to.
We tour around the track for a few more laps then the yellow goes in and we start to wind up the speed a bit. The tires feel brick hard and I'm feeling a bit stiff. There are a couple of headshaking moments (my head, not the bike's) as I burn into a few corners a bit quickly and don't get a good idea of what the tires are doing down there. Crap... Ran a bit wide on that line. I'm not getting up to any pace to start moving around on the bike.
Still... I'm STOKED to be out here on the track and I find myself tucking in close with the control rider for a few laps before he waves me by. Before too long, the white is waving... Then the checkered - and we come rolling into pit lane.
The control rider that I was hanging out with waves me over for a chat as J rolls into our compound. "Yes, that was a bit of a sketchy pass on the Triumph (don't forget this guy - he proved to be a bit of a twat out there) - but he took a really weird line into one and I wasn't feeling very good having him too close". "Yes, I'll just hang back next time". "Yes, I was entering a bit fast and I haven't gotten a good feel on the tires yet". "Thanks for the pointers". I was impressed at how much the control rider had watched me around the track and he had spot on suggestions and comments. This is a great deal! Kinda' wish I had done a few of these before I dove straight into racing! Would have saved me some crashing for sure...
J and I get off the bikes laughing and dancing around like couple a 'mos. *aachem*... "Yeah... it was a bit sketchy". "Let's go laugh at the other guys from pit wall!"
Sacrificial Track Virgins
somewhere around 9:20am
J and I get up to the pit wall and watch Andy Dallas and Paul (not necessarily in that order) circulate the track. Its a bit above jogging speed, but everyone looks comfortable. Remember that the weather is cold and damp at this point... Not encouraging for a track blast out. All 3 of 'em look the-absolute-shit in their spiff leathers and shiny sweet ass bikes. Andy looks a bit like Darth Vader meets Mad Max "mfffff-sshhhhh... mfffff-ssshhhh.... Max... I am your father".
We head back to our canopy and chill until the crew finishes out the session and rolls back in. Combos are eaten and the last of the Krispy Kreme (thanks Paul) find their way into my rumbling stomach.
We watch as the crew talks to the control rider. No doubt that there is good coaching going on there. Bikes roll up and the crew dismounts. "So how was it?!" ... ... "It was great... Its cold out there". No doubt a sphincter-clencher to head out there in these conditions for the first time. I hope everyone starts really enjoying this! How about some sun?!
'S All Good!
Later in the day
As the day goes on we all find our own comfortable groove. The sun even pokes through the clouds from time to time. Overall temperature came up and the tires start to feel good and grippy. Everyone is picking up the pace and polishing their technique. What a great day this is turning out to be! J and I watch as the crew mixes it up with other riders. "This almost as good as watching a race"! Says Crazy J... I have to agree - its damn fun - being on the track and then getting to watch your buds mix it up out there. Pretty damn cool.
I start to pick up the pace and get of the bike a bit as my tire confidence increases. I'm still not cranking the bike over full tilt - hopefully avoiding any mishaps. I have noticed that its a good idea to keep an eye on the other riders. This is not a full pop race and these guys can be a bit unpredictable. Best to keep some space in reserve in case I have to change my line/speed unexpectedly! The 955i Triumph becomes my nemesis on the track. (Its a really dark green if you are looking at the pics - number 267). Passing only on the outside is a risky proposition with his unpredictable lines, and the power of that lovely triple just eats up the SV in a straight. This leads to a lot of swapping back and forth as I try to turn my way away from the Trumpet only to be passed as soon as the tarmac straightens out. Usually I was able to ditch him in a few laps... Even better, J and I learned to grid at the FRONT of the line to roll away from the back grid and enjoy some open track!
Lunch and the girls
Noon-ish
Just a while after lunch is called and the sessions take a break - the girls show up with lunch. THANK GOODNESS. By this time my stomach was turning inside out and my energy was dropping to a negative level. Cat (my girlie) handed me the most delicious roast beef and mustard sandwich I've had in a looooooong time. Alycia (aka - Handfull) had driven them out and although there was some talk for unreadable hillbilly-gas-station directions and some detours, we were happy to see them (and not just for the food).
After stuffing our faces and mucking around for a while, we dropped the girls off on the infield where the spectating is good and got ready for our sessions...
A belly full
around 1pm
Lining up on the grid with a full belly and some sunshine felt great to me! Post session some of the guys said it felt weird getting back out there... And I can relate - I used to have problems not being as sharp or aggressive enough at races after lunch. But this is a track day! I'm havin' a blast... farting with joy around the track. The lack of sleep is starting to take its toll though. I reason that there will only be a few more sessions.
It would be nice to just make it out in one piece... Look back... and recall the sweet sensations of the track.
Then... IT happened.
I'm standing on pit wall with J... watching our crew roll by. Everyone's looking really sharp. A far cry from our morning trepidation. "Goddamn Dallas is lookin' good - check him out... crankin around turn 10 - damn - that's amazing". Dallas... I'm truly sorry. I offended the god of Murphy and jinxed your ass. After observing this for a handful of laps, J and I head back to chill in our Target recliners and munch on some junk food.
The girls are back in the pits with us and our crew comes rolling in from their session. I don't notice that Dallas is not among the crew until the crash truck pulls up.
SHIT.
There is a queasy feeling in my stomach as we unload the mud caked machine. There is also relief that Dallas is hopping off the crash truck (not the ambulance) on his own steam. Damn. This sucks.
Cathy commented later that it looked as if we all took turns going up and breaking the bad news "hey man... I'm sorry... Fido is dead".... Yeah, I guess its like that. Really puts a friggin' damper on the day!
J goes out for another round and I make it out for another 2... The lack of sleep and the jolt of Dallas' smack down effectively finish out the day for us.
Not that it ended on a bad note! We had an indescribably awesome day (I did - for sure) and I can't wait to do it again!
Check out the pics:
Farting around in the pits
Pebble's glamour shots (some of J in here too)!
