Sandpit Sturup

Posted: 2008-08-14 in Supermotard
Tags: ,

It really was bound to happen. I should have realised right from the start. The heavy rain on the way to the track, the last minute brake adjustment, the way my brain seemed disconnected from my body, the late entrance. All signs pointing to disappointment, all signs for the inevitable.

Really though, these signs aside, the day started off grand and fantastic. The wet surface scared a few so overtaking was a breeze. A quick bout of passing and the short 15 minutes ride was over, I was as happy as a teenager in a brothel.

For once I even kept pace with Kristian, my supermotard partner in crime. But this was probably more due to his change in riding style versus my skill (or lack off). Arg what a good day.

Second pass was just as exciting. Harder riding more fighting with the butterfly riders. A friend in the stands said the back stepped out a few times and seemed impressed.
I on the other hand wasn’t as impressed, a bad run of straight braking forced me outside of a corner for the umteenth time this session. The last one left me quiet shaken, the bike didn’t seem conforable and nor did I.

As per most session we pissed of some people who felt nessasary to complain, something about dangerous driving or something.

Whatever was said it worked, I lost focus, started over thinking everything and found my times drop like crazy. This made me mad and in an attempt to speed things up I started taking weird lines, several times the brakes had to save me from my mistakes. Several time I noticed the brakes were not as responsive as previous sessions.

Jinx, I don’t believe in them but…. After 3 or 4 bad successions the inevitable happened.

Last run of the day and I was poo’ped. My concentration was down, I was grumpy and the excuses were flowing. It was a simple dajavoo, identical to session 2. Late brake on the straight, couldn’t pull up in time and found myself torn between a Ducati and the sand pit. I chose sand pit and let him squeeze by. First time in the sand trap and I was relatively surprised, I shifted all my weight back wheel and road like it like a MX. The motard handled it very well. 5 minutes later I was in the pits getting ready for home.

Kristian had the same voodoo, the fast left hander seems to have sent him high side. Not much leather left on the pants but other than a couple of scratches and bent handlebars a very cheap outcome. Any sports bike would have been kissing the next month salary good bye, another reason for a motard.

TWO WEEKS LATER

At the next track day i was chatting to a friend riding there complaining about my front brakes. During the previous weeks I had purchased new front brakes ready to swap them but decided against it when the wear was minimal. Confused I checked his brakes and noticed a massive difference. Turns out during an late adjustment during the week I had adjusted the wrong way and forgot totally about it. It felt fine then but when they got warm they went soft and the lever was pressing against my fingures during braking.

This was the second time a adjustment during a week with no testing had affected my riding. The last being knutsorp where I did a quick service only to have the bike die on the way to the track. Turns out the new spark plug was faulty and fowled.

Choco

Stolen quote: “Women and children first….. it might be a trap 😉 “

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