This round took place in early November. It would be my first time riding my new race bike; a 2009 Yamaha YZF-R6. I planned on keeping my expectations low, and just riding the bike, figuring out what needed to change or be changed, and focusing on riding the way a racer’s supposed to.
I really enjoyed the drive from Saratoga to Vegas. I “checked in” periodically on Facebook at random places during each of my fuel and rest stops. “Donut Star” in Barstow was my favorite (no, I didn’t actually set foot in the place). The weather was nice, and I got in Thursday evening at a reasonable hour and checked into my room at the Hard Rock Hotel; I was greatly looking forward to playing blackjack at their swim-up blackjack tables on Saturday afternoon while all the masochists were racing the 20 lap solo endurance races.
Friday’s first session had two major issues. The handlebars were three inches wider, on each side, than on my Honda. A total of six additional wingspan inches were required. I felt like I was a little girl again, hanging off a jungle gym in some of the track’s long, slow, winding corners. My shoulders are extremely narrow to begin with. I was recently fitted on my bicycle by Curtis Cramblett, pro bike fitter for the Garmin-Cervelo cycling team, and he was pretty amazed by how narrow my shoulders were given my 5’10” stature. “They call this one ‘poco, he said, showing me the 36cm handlebars he was prescribing to replace my 42cm set. Apparently they don’t make them any smaller.
The second issue was the lack of engine braking. This motorcycle had been previously prepared for an AMA national racer who had made his racing mark in the 250cc two stroke racing classes. If you’ve ever ridden both a four stroke and a two stroke dirt bike, you’ll understand the differences this can signify. Basically, I was riding a bike that had an absolute lack of engine braking compared to any other motorcycle I’d ever ridden. So, what’s the big deal then? To put it simply, for those non-racers out there: ideally, you never coast on a race track. You are always either on the gas, or on the brakes. Engine braking shouldn’t be an issue, at least not if you’re an excellent racer…which I am not. There is a very delicate time in the corner, when you are probably enjoying your maximum lean angle and minimum available traction, when you finally release the brake lever and begin applying throttle. There is always a delay. The length of that delay can mean the difference between a great racer and a mediocre racer.
Now imagine you’re releasing the brake lever, with a knee on the ground at 60 mph, and you’re expecting your motorcycle to continue to slow, your front end suspension to continue to compress, thus continuing to tighten up your line as you reach the apex of a turn. Without the expected engine braking, my bike kind of just lurched and shot off towards the outside edge of the track. Adding throttle only exacerbated things, because adding throttle tends to also widen your line on the track.
It was distressing.
We made some adjustments to the suspension, pretty much just adding preload to the forks and the shock, and it helped a bit. But I mostly felt like I was riding an out of control wild animal.
Sunday I got a miserable start in the women’s race; I’d forgotten that I needed to “rev the piss out of it” on the starting line to get a good launch, and I watched Krystyna, Nadine and even little Marisol Lacour go rocketing past me. I got them all back except for Krystyna. I might have passed her at one point in the race, but maybe I didn’t. I don’t remember. But she won, and was racing very well that day to boot.
I didn’t race remarkably in the boy races either, but I managed to hit my previous best laptimes (on the Honda) of 1:24s. I was satisfied with that.
To celebrate the end of the season, I went out with track friends Sunday night, including my gloriously amazing pretty blonde mechanic, Nikki Nienow. For those of you who don’t know, she’s actually a legit mechanic. Not by trade, but even better; she’s a mechanical engineer who designs and makes improvements to the construction of tanks for the military, and she’s been riding and working on motorcycles for almost 15 years. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have recruited her into my camp!
The PBM and Yours Truly
The Banana Bike
