[Technically this entry belongs in July because the track date was July 31st, but it has taken me a week to finish writing this, so I'm putting the entry in August.] Only a few pictures.

This day at Thunderhill was the best track day ever. There is something to be said for persistence.

Because the bike's gearing was changed by the previous owner, the numbers on the speedometer are meaningless. I should just cover up the gauge. The real information is on the rpm gauge and lap time. First, let's put this in perspective. The slowest AFM racers run this track in about two minutes, thirty seconds. The fastest racers run it in under two minutes. My best lap time was two minutes, fifty seconds. I'm ecstatic.

The objectives for this track day were simple: reacquaint myself with the F3, and keep good drive between corners. A third objective appeared by early morning, my gear shifts from previous track days at Thunderhill weren't working well, I had to come up with a new shifting strategy.

One of the B-group guys was riding the silver version of Peter's Interceptor (I've been calling it a VFR). He was taking it easy in the morning session and I was able to stay on his tail. Nice smooth riding, good lines, just a little faster than I would have made myself go, but within my abilities. Near the end of the session he didn't go for broke down the front straight, so I passed him. That one session set me up for a great day.

Months ago, maintaining the lean angle of the bike would drain my mental energy. I've since learned to trust my tires and can hold the angle. Now I had to get out of the habit of resting between corners. After many months of this pattern, my right hand had developed a muscle memory. First I had to break the habit backing off the throttle after exiting a corner. Once used to that, I had to roll on more throttle.

The good riders get on the gas as soon as they crest Turn 5, and stay on the gas down the hill, around Turn 6, driving hard through Turn 7, harder around Turn 8, up the hill, over the crest of Turn 9, and in their minds (if not for real), they power slide through Turn 10. My goal was to just stay on the gas down the hill from Turn 5, all the way to Turn 9, make that corner, then get on the gas again for Turn 10.

With a grunt I flicked the bike over to set the downhill trajectory. I heard my own voice in my helmet, "Stay on it, stay on it, STAY ON IT!" My hand eased open the throttle a little more for Turn 6. Holding the throttle steady through Turn 7 was acceptable, the real challenge was to not brake to set up for Turn 8. A little more throttle up the hill, minor speed modulation to make Turn 9, a moment at the crest to locate the water tower in the distance and verify my position (it is a blind drop) then on the gas again all the way down the hill.

Coming to the approach of Turn 10 I let off the gas and started braking hard as I passed the #3 brake marker, downshifted between the #2 and #1 markers, and leaned into the corner, and got on the gas again for quick but short run to Turn 11. The F3 is so forgiving that as long as the rpms were high enough, missing that shift was okay, I just clicked down before turning in again to make Turn 11's late apex.

Not bad. There's plenty to improve. But not bad.

During the afternoon sessions, I tried to keep the rpms between 8,000 and 11,000. This took more presence of mind and energy than I had expected. The format for this track day was two groups which meant our riding sessions were about thirty minutes. Once I got control of the rpm range, I found I couldn't stay out there the whole thirty minutes, I would come in one lap early because I couldn't stand the heat. My foot, encased in a lightweight touring boot positioned just behind a very hot cylinder, was getting cooked. I've known intellectually those boots were under powered for the job, but I haven't had a real reason to buy better boots until now.

Thanks to just a few weeks of twice weekly sessions of yoga and Pilates, I've found that the off-camber Turn 3 is less scary than it used to be. This time, instead of using just my torso to control the lean of the bike, I started pressing through my feet to control the bike's angle, as if I were going to stand up on the bike. The only way I can describe it is using the abdominal core of my body to align the bike in the direction I want to go. Before, I used to scrub off a lot of speed coming out of Turn 2, which was a shame, because I can manage Turn 2 pretty well. I felt confident enough to trying carrying more and more speed through Turn #3. I only blew one attempt and drifted way wide while trying to get control of the bike again. Fortunately, there wasn't anybody trying to pass me on the outside.

For the last year and a half, I watched the other riders hang off their bike and drag their knees. I'd shake my head and think, "no way, not me, not on this bike". Well, after this track day, I'm putting the knee pucks that came with my leathers where they belong. Nothing wrong with preparing for success. Everything fell into place by the middle afternoon sessions. I'm riding at a new level. I have better focus and understanding of my body positioning on the bike.

Having good teachers makes a big difference. Karolyn, who took me under wing when I first started riding, rode her first track day in the A group, also known as "the fast people". She's in a whole new ballgame now. Those number plates on her bike won't be yellow (novice racer) for long.

Finally, many thanks to Dennis the pit dude, who took care of our bikes and us. When I pulled in from a session, he dunked a towel into ice water and draped it over my head. And when that wasn't enough to reduce my body temperature to normal, he coaxed me into the air-conditioned meeting room until the flush left my face. I cannot imagine doing a track day solo; good pit support is the cream cheese and honey schmere on a toasted bagel.

When I was a student at UC Santa Cruz in the late 1970's, I would celebrate the end of the quarter by ingesting psilocybin (mushrooms) after finals. I'll have completed the final exams for the UC Santa Cruz Extension Project and Program Management certification program in four days, just in time for a celebratory track day at Infineon (formerly Sears Point), my first time on this track.

As usual, I have pre-track jitters. This is my last track day before Femmoto in September.

Still settling down from riding Infineon Raceway at Sears Point for the first time. Here's the map of the track until I have something to say. Probably a few more days.

This is the AMA race configuration. The numbering of the turns makes no sense. This track has been reconfigured so many times that some turn numbers will live on only in the minds of riders who remember the track before it changed. The track is supposed to be safer now that the dog leg at Turn 1 and 9a break up long high speed runs. There's a lot of cement walls on this track, it's not like Thunderhill where if you run wide, you'll just end up in the prickly plants. Even the old die-hards who ran the old track concede that slamming into a wall at 100 miles an hour is not a good thing.

What I like about this track is that each segment sets you up for the next. It is all about "connecting the dots" and finding the rhythm. The short story for me is that I spent most of the morning ready to vomit from nerves and dis-orientation. I became an expert on everyone else's passing skills. By the afternoon, I was getting around the track okay but still the last one in on the checkered flag. It will be interesting to see how it feels to ride this track again in November.