brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! Track photographers shot some cool angles this time.
Click the picture to check it out!

Mongrel SV loose at Summit Point

Okay... So its taken a full week to post a story on our track day at summit point.
Its been a busy week - but having such a blast over the weekend made the work-week easier to deal with.

Since the last post - when the SV was hung from a tree having its ass-end replaced - I did some more work before heading to the track. I had hoped to work on little bits here and there throughout the week leading up to Summit Point, but somehow ended up with a bunch of bits to sort out on Saturday!

While the ass-end of the SV seemed fairly well sorted - the front was an absolute disaster.

At low speed I could feel the head wagging back and forth like a drunken sailor. It felt so loose I couldn't tell if it was just the bent forks or if there were other evils lurking in there - like ratty wheel bearings or a tweaked triple tree.

I was figuring that I could always just ride the VFR if it was a complete mess.

By the time I jacked up the bike and pulled all the street-bits and twisted forks off it was getting close to dusk. I crossed my fingers and slid the new fork legs in for a test-fit. ...Perfect! Figuring that I would run out of time, I decided to forego replacing the forks internals (cartridge emulator setup and progressive springs). I bolted the whole mess back together, dressed it up with some zip ties and ripped around the block a couple times to check things out. Without the fender or any of the street bits, the Mongrel SV looked the Mad-Max-part... Sounded like it too!

Sunday 4:30 am

Bleary-eyed and smelling pretty ripe... I headed out to load my gear into the VFR's cavernous saddle bags. I figured that if the SV did not pass tech (quite possible - just based on rust and crust levels) I could ride the VFR and still have a good time. The plan was to meet J at 5:15, load the SV and ride out to Summit.

Once I had loaded up the gear I hoped on and got ready to ride out to meet J and load the bike. I reached out to pull in the clutch... WTF. Why is my clutch lever bent all the way down there? Why is my mirror folded in like that? Goddamnit! Some piece of shit has knocked over the Viffer for a second time in one week (different P.O.S. this time). Right behind my apartment! Cracked the fairing, gnarled up the bags - pushed it right over the kickstand side. What's the matter with these bastards? Once I rotated my clutch lever back into place (thankfully not bent to bad) - I decided not to let it get to me and head on over to the loading rendezvous.

5:30 am

Loading went quickly and we're on the road! Following the truck I noticed just how skinny the SV was next to J's certainly-far-from-fat R6. I couldn't wait to flog that thing around the track!

7:30 am

We woofed down breakfast at a McD's and and headed over for tech. The head-shaking and scornful looks didn't bode well for my poor mongrel. I casually explained away a near-nonexistent rear brake pad "but I don't use them - I promise ;-)" and then there were about 50 or so zip ties - I finally got nailed for not having balls... On the ends of my levers. "Those things will go right through a leg." muttered one of the control riders. Fair enough - they were, after all, filed down into little points from scraping along various paved surfaces... Luckily I had a pair of fully-balled levers in my tool kit. A control rider, who I will later come to know as Mr. Morph, kindly offered to inspect my rust-ball on wheels once I had re-fit the levers.
So... A few more zip-ties for good measure and the balls were installed. I rolled the SV over on my way to the rider's meeting and came back to find that Mr. Morph had slapped my "pass" sticker on. Shaking his head said "There you go - be safe"!

True... Be safe. (as I crossed my fingers and toes)!

9ish am

Time for our first session! I fired it up and roll out to grid at the back of the "fast" line. I'll just take it easy and see how this thing is out there. Everything feels pretty good. Shifter's a bit rough, but that won't matter at track speed. Feels fairly tight... Memories of my previous SV on the track float back into my half-conscious mind. This is gonna' be FUN.

BRRRRRRM! We fired ourselves out of the grid. The weather was absolutely gorgeous. The morning sun was bright and clear. The mongrel broke into a steady trot below me as we settled on to the racing line. The other riders seemed to be enjoying the relaxed pace and beautiful weather as we cruised around our first two yellow-flag laps. Much better than the pent-up frantic energy I felt on our last outing to VIR on the Viffer!

Yellow flags came in and the riders started to speed up to pace. Nothing bothersome from the SV, but I eased it in gently because I just couldn't trust it yet.

Come down the straight, on the brakes into turn one... I was feeling fine... Then I got on the gas... bbrrrrrRRRRRRRPPPP! Unfortunately - the forward momentum did not match my exhaust note. The damn clutch was slipping! Must have tightened my shiny new ball-ended lever a bit too much. No worries - I would pit on this lap and check it out. I had the whole day ahead of me - no need to roast the clutch.


Oil on the boot - worry on the brain

Putting my hand out I coasted into pit-lane and putted over to our makeshift pit. Figuring that this would just be a quick clutch adjustment I kept all my gear on an made for the rounds-all (vise-grip). After loosening the lever tension and giving a quick spritz of lube on the open bits I nearly slipped right onto my ass while returning to the toolbox. What was this? Oil on my boot? I slowly turned my head to see what I KNEW was waiting for me... Sure 'nuff - an even film of fresh oil gleamed off the right-side engine case cover.

Damnit.

Off came my helmet. That was the end of my session.
After peeling a melted zip tie off the exhaust header... I cleaned things up with some brake cleaner and set about finding the leak. Good thing I brought along the VFR, I thought to myself. By the time our session ended I was hanging out with the mongrel idling patiently on the rear-stand. I cracked open some drinking water, fired up a smoke and watched the side cover for any signs of leakage. "Looks like its coming from the water pump" says J. "I sure hope its not" I muttered - "you got any RTV sealer"? We did have some black goop.. and I was hoping I could solve the problem. I was DAMN SURE that I would not be heading back out with any signs of possible leakage.

Okay - the SV is waaaay up to temp... As I looked closely at the case-cover seams I could make out a fine bead of oil pulsing around the seal... Just below the water pump. Thank goodness I didn't have to take that off! What a pain in the butt that would have been.

One of the SV's more endearing design qualities:
If you need to swap a clutch - just throw it on the sidestand. The angle and shape of the oil-pan ensure that now loose oil will spill. Just undo the cover and do what you need to do! Of course everyone sprinted to find a catch pan - just in case I was wrong and we provoked a minor Valdeez disaster in our pit area.

Oddly I noticed that some of the bolts were bent as I pulled them out of the case. How in the hell does that happen? Mental note to replace those puppies - though it doesn't seem bad enough to cause a problem at the moment. We checked out the O-Ring, which looked fine, cleaned off the case surface, and re-assembled everything....

After about 20 minutes of waiting and watching I was convinced that all was well and the mongrel could return to the track without fear of drenching us all in a torrential downpour of oil! Could have been the clutch overheating from slippage, or some wayward dirt, or bent bolts or a combination of any of those things... The important thing was - we were back in the sandbox - woo hoo!

...and the rest of the day went swimmingly!

After that minor setback ;-). The rest of the day went great. The weather was unbelievably great - not too hot, not to good.. juuust right - for hurtling oneself around the track.

I railed around the track a couple times with Mr. Morph, the friendly control rider, and got motioned to talk after pit in. He was busy giving some pointers to other riders but yelled out "You - 77... I can't talk now... got a riders meeting, but I'll swing by your pit later!" Oh crap I thought... did I cut someone off? What have I done now?

When Morph rolled by the pit we were sitting around basking in a wash of track-endorphins. All was well. Shaking his head - Morph walked around the mongrel, eyeing is suspiciously. "Well, I gotta hand it to you, you're fast on this thing.... You're smooth... Your lines could use a little work... and ... and... I can't think of the word... ya look a little.. um, raggedy out there." "like on the edge a bit". "Well yeah" I say, ", the front is still a bit on the bouncy side - but I'm workin on it". ;-) "Well if you know that - than take it easy out there" Morph says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Mr. Morph was right of course. It really was great to have these experienced riders out there watching everyone and giving personalized pointers! NESBA really is a first-rate club and well-worth every penny. The front end, bone-stock bubble-gum without the upgraded internals, is certainly on the "raggedy" side and even midday - I don't completely trust it. I was leaning the bike half-way to give room for line-change or adjustments should things get funky up there.

As the day went on, I got more comfortable with the front and just let it do its dance up there. Good to focus on being extra-smooth and not upset that bouncy fork.
Back end hooked up great (smooth and plush - the tuned GSXR shock is no Penske, but it gets the job done and then some for much less $$$) and the slight raise helped turn-in response. I had a blast railing out off corners riding on the rear.

The engine, though it sacrificed about a quart of blood to the atmospheric oil gods, certainly has a bit more poke than a stock mill and was plenty smooth under power. There was one session where I basically dragged a (very clean and nice) fully-faired SV down the straight and walked right by him... (walk being the operative word).

Towards the end of the day we got to see the Darth Vader twins (We're evil black bikers and we'll swallow ya' soul) - Andy and Dallas - barreling around the track. I was hesitant to say it (since the last time I did - Dallas cartwheeled through turn one), but they looked really good out there. Certainly top of the pack. Confirming my suspicions - Andy got a bump to Intermediate class at the end of the day - Dallas will get a bump next go-round or something is wrong with the control riders. If I had to guess - Andy made the jump on sheer smoothness. Every lap he was in the same spot (good) and looked relaxed. I did have a mini-chuckle at the knee-drop routine. ...again - super consistent - it went like this in Andy's head I imagined: Approaching turn... line up outside... angle to apex... dropping in... decending knee... 1.. 2.. sccrrrp.. exiting corner.. retract knee... It was all so... precise. - As opposed to my raggedy riding ;-) Dallas, meanwhile, was busy picking off everyone on the field. Lines varied a bit from lap to lap, but hey.. there was traffic to deal with! I think the Dallas-style learning curve reminds me more of my own experience when I started (especially the crashing).


Andy on a previous track day... a wee bit tight and not looking through.


Andy on this track day - looking smooth and relaxed - looking for that checkered flag.


Dallas early in the day - this pretty much sums it up. Wrestling that CBR like its a dirtbike - elbows up, knee down, balls like a duffel-sack (no, not on his levers)- I'm sure Dallas hauling ass here - but he can haul ass with much less effort and more margin for error (as shown below)...


Smooth, relaxed and looking through the corner. Like I said. Very soon. If he clicks off a whole day looking like this - Dallas might get bumped right past "I" into "A" group.

One thing is for sure. We will all be dicing it up in Intermediate soon!

Check out Andy's kick-ass post on catspit.net


Heading home...

J was pooped and sat the last session out... and by the time I got home, I figured that he had the right idea and I should have done the same.
To say I felt "hammered" was an understatement. Those 4hrs. of sleep had finally caught up with me. After helping J put the cap back on his truck and returning the faithful mongrel to E-Roc's crib. I putted home half-dreaming about the soft bed waiting for me.

Cathy made me a dinner that I hazily remember woofing down in about 3 seconds before stumbling into bed... Face-down.

Dreams of railing around smoothly banking curves filled my head as I muttered my way to sleep...