Last weekend was AFM final race Thunderhill for the year, followed by a Keigwin's track day. Bart raced, Dennis attended race school. Bart and I did the track day.

Eatin' Exhaust
In February, I wrote that Bart, Dennis and Karolyn were going to ride Laguna Seca early in March. I was anticipating more pit babe work, this time for three bikes. Bart was just starting to break in the Aprilia RS250 whereas Dennis and Karolyn had acquired well-ridden Yamaha 450s. Dennis' is actually a YamaHonda after a few rebuilds. I figured that the Aprilia's break-in period gave Dennis and Karolyn a short window on running faster lap times than our aspiring racer. "After the break-in period, assuming he doesn't slam himself into a wall with that bike, we'll be eating his exhaust." Those all-in-good-fun words elicited the following comments.

From Karolyn:

So Cecilie claims we'll be eating your exhaust as soon as the RS250 is broken in... I'm thinkin' that you're going to have to work for that. :-)

-k

...and from Dennis:

"Short window on faster lap times." ?!?!
"We'll be eating his exhaust." ?!?!
That's it dammit...the gloves are down, JACK.
[Mr. T's voice] You in trouble now, Bart...I pity da fool. We'll
see 'bout dat exhaust, suckah!

Cecilie, such a pot the pit babe has stirred. Okay, so Bart will have a 100 lb bike/rider weight advantage with more horsepower on tap...I have exactly two weeks from today to take my tools and make "modifications" to that beautiful Aprilia nesting in my garage. Bwahahahaaa.

- Dennis, [cape rustling...deep resonant voice in the distance] The Slow Avengerrrrr

I had to get this under control fast:

Down boy, yeah you, the tall one, DOWN! and you, too, yeah you over there with the red hair, trying to look innocent. Had a little too much coffee this morning, haven't we?

Now I want you to all make nice, and promise to be good. Karolyn, bad girl, uncross your fingers! And your eyes. Dennis, your tongue isn't long enough to tie in a knot so quit trying.

- Cecilie the pot stirring pit babe

Bart was completely caught off-guard by the challenges. He's just doing his thing, minding his own business. Now he had to preserve his honor and the Aprilia's pristine body work.

Fast-forward to the July Thunderhill AFM race. Bart improves his mid-pack 14th position from last time to a 12th, and a very respectable 2:16:236 lap time. Dennis is on hand to cheer him on. One day earlier, Dennis attended AFM race school and acquired his racing license. Furthermore, Dennis and Karolyn have hired one of the Keigwin's teachers, Doug, who is also an AFM racer, to coach them in September. The bar was at 2:25, Bart's previous best time. Now the bar is 9 seconds higher and Bart has that little quiet smile on his face. The red-haired Queen of Darkness and the Caped Avengerrrr have their work cut out for them.

* * *

The Monday track day was the first Keigwins track day I have attended that wasn't a Novice Day. I rode in group "B-", the low-intermediate level. It took the whole morning to find a groove. The last two laps of the third and last morning session felt decent but it was demoralizing - it felt as if I had lost a lot of ground since last month.

I asked Bart to ride behind me after lunch. My lines were okay except in turn six, a place I've been told before that I drift wide. Body position - well, I was rigid. My body didn't move one iota off the center line of the bike and my head didn't turn much. I gotta get loose on the bike.

I resolved to fix the turn six problem in the next session. The plan was for me to follow Bart for one lap, note his turn in point, then try it with him following me. I think I've got it now, turn six is a late apex corner, like turn 11. I've been turning in too soon.

As I came out of turn 14, I must have had something on my mind because I had drifted wide and there was no way for me to keep the bike on the tarmac. I could almost hear Lance Keigwin's voice in my head, "If you have to go into the dirt, stay off the brakes." So I did. I just let the bike head off into the dirt and run itself out of momentum. I stayed off the throttle and off the brakes. Let me tell you, those little pricker plants out there in the infield demand respect. Of course I stalled the bike. Once I got the bike started, I just headed back to the track, waited until turn 14 and 15 were completely clear, and motored back onto the front straight. I finished the rest of the session without incident.

By now the heat was getting to me. The joke in the women's restroom was that the track day was free, but the dry sauna was $150 for the day. When Bart asked me what I was going to work on in the next session, I gave him a muddled response. He clarified my objective with Occam's razor: for every corner, call out each point as I reach it: turn in, apex, exit. When I was in the front straight, I was to ask myself, "what are you doing?" The answer I was to give myself was, "call out each turn in, apex, and exit." He made me recite this instruction a couple of times. It took a couple laps to carry out the instruction for each turn. For some turns the exits are right on top of the next turn's turn in point, but I didn't realize this until I started articulating the points. And, the esses are their own story.

An unexpected side effect of having a clean sense of these points was that my body was moving. I felt it happening and I wasn't even trying. Moving around on the bike just felt right. We're not talking knee-dragging here, I just wasn't glued onto the longitudinal centerline of the bike. Later in the paddock when we were packing up, a fellow came over and gave me a carefully worded compliment. "When I was riding at your speed," he said, "I was nowhere near as smooth as you are." I thanked him and made some derogatory comment about my riding position. He assured me that I had one butt cheek off the bike. This made me wonder how long he had been riding behind me on his Suzuki gixxer but I was so overjoyed, I hugged him despite the pouring rainstorm of sweat running off him.

* * *

At dinner, I wondered aloud why the F3 doesn't talk to me. My CS has talked to me, Peter's VFR talked to me, but the F3 is silent. Bart said he knew why. "Really? Why?" "'Cause you painted it green. It isn't the right color for a Honda!"

A stock 1998 CBR600 F3

So now I have to find a way to make it up to the bike. Maybe stenciling John Deere deer logos on the gas tank isn't the right thing to do.

Reflecting on being able to move around on the bike, I now realize that a basic principle of Aikido applies. You have to get off the line of attack to enable the spiraling motion to commence. The spiral motion is the essence of neutralizing the attack. With respect to riding, shifting one's weight off the center line feels very much like "hiking out" on a catamaran or a center-board boat. There's a relationship between the angle of the bike, the degree to which the rider's weight is off the bike, and the amount of speed the bike can carry in a corner. While I've been aware of this intellectually, I've just started to feel it viscerally.

Next track day is at the end of August.