The AFM racing club sponsors a four-hour endurance race once a year as their last racing event of the season. Karolyn decided to enter a team using her 15-year old Yamaha FZR 400 which she sprint races in the 450 production class. Karolyn asked me to be the Roadkill Racing team manager for this event. I've never managed a racing team before, but heck, I'm a project manager, aren't I?

Yamaha FZR 400          Photo by R.Kennedy 2004

Two months of planning and preparation culminated in a rider team of four people, and a support crew of six. Roadkill placed fifth in our class. The bike and riders finished intact and unscathed. Considering that two of the four riders, Mark and Ed (Mr. Guzzi Tech) had never ridden Infineon before, that no one but Karolyn had more than a few hours of riding to become familiar with the bike, and that five of the six pit crew had never worked an endurance race before, we did very well.

The sixth person, Robert, had eight endurance races under his leathers, and a busted leg that prevented him from riding this event. Instead, he advised Karolyn and me on planning, brought ice for our coolers, and took a shift as a lap timer. Our pit ran well thanks to Robert.

I took a fair amount of teasing for over-planning, organizing, and communicating for this event, but I am unapologetic. I knew nothing about managing a race team, I didn't even understand the term "hot pit". Robert had to explain to me that our pit would have a "hot" and a "cold" side. The "cold" side is where the support team and riders live during the race. The crew jump to the "hot" side of the concrete barrier when a rider pulls into the pit, service the bike, and help the new rider get back out there as quickly as possible.

Being a good project manager, I sorted out the roles and responsibilities, the schedule, the lists of provisions, the task assignments. I did a work-breakdown structure and a risk analysis. I had contingency plans. And I had spreadsheets. I found out later the team was having fits of giggles behind my back over my multicolor spreadsheets. I am unapologetic. We did good, and I am proud of us.

[Stop here unless you want more details]

So, what happens in an endurance race? Let's start with the preparation. Karolyn prepped this bike like a girl going to the prom, new tires (sponsored!), fresh fluids, new clutch plates, new rear sprocket, new chain, the works. Even inaugural Roadkill stickers for the bodywork.

On race day, over lunch, the four riders set up a rotation schedule electing to have eight 30-minute sessions in the four-hour race. More experienced endurance racers easily ride at least one hour each. I was glad that our riders were sensible and chose to ride shorter sessions. We knew we were sacrificing our lap count accumulation by agreeing to seven scheduled pit stops. No one had practiced riding for more than 30 minutes at a time on the track. The riders knew that tension would build from being passed frequently at very high rates of speed by much bigger bikes.

As each rider was riding, the lap-timer recorded lap times. The message board person kept one eye on the clock and one eye on the track. The message board person would cross the hot pit lane to hold up a sign for the rider, once at the halfway point, and again when there were two laps left in the rotation.

When the rider came in to the hot pit lane, four people would jump over the wall. One person held the bike steady, another pointed a fire extinguisher at the gas tank while someone else refueled the bike (engine turned off). Often it was the rider who checked the chain tension with the toe of their boot, and ran a gloved hand over the rear tire. Then the fresh rider mounted, started the bike, and roared off. This was the first time I've ever seen an experienced rider mount from the right side. Usually a rider mounts and dismounts from the left, but that would have been inefficient in this race situation.

Ideally, nothing goes wrong with the bike, and the riders are in good enough physical and mental condition to ride their rotation to completion. If something does go wrong, if they can, they let us know they are coming in by patting the top of their helmet. We were fortunate to have no mishaps, only normal, planned, pit stops. Dennis was in charge of fuel. He monitored gas consumption and knew which rotations required refueling and which didn't. No need to race with unnecessary weight, but frugality carries a risk and therefore a huge responsibility; Karolyn's bike doesn't have a reserve tank or an idiot light.

Dennis (Mr. Fuel)          Photo by R.Kennedy 2004

Chains lengthen as they heat up. After a couple hours, the chain had stretched a lot, it was already slipping during gear changes. Retensioning the chain is done by putting the bike on the rear stand which allows rear wheel to spin freely, loosening the wheel's axle nut, and sliding the wheel back to take up the chain slack. Never mind that the socket set case was held together with a bungee cord. The first time I opened it, the sockets went flying. We wasted precious time scrambling to find the right ones. The next time, Ed retensioned the chain in seconds.

When a rider has completed their rotation, they are hot and exhausted. It is unclear which is more important, chugging a bottle of water or seeing their lap times. To cool off, some riders change out of their leathers completely, others doff the jacket or the top part of their one-piece suits. I watch them and make sure they are alert before they go out again. Some combination of food, water, ibuprofen, aspirin, massage, icy wet, cold towels on the neck, talking to fellow riders, and general rest does the job.

When the message board person told a rider that they were going out in two laps, they usually started their pre-ride visualization. Everyone has their own way of doing it; it looks something like this. The rider closes his eyes and lets his head hang. The hands come up, the fingers curl around imaginary handlebars. The head turns, looking through a corner, the right hand squeezes the brake, then blips the throttle, the left hand squeezes the clutch lever, the quadriceps muscle of the left thigh twitches. The whole torso moves as the rider leans into the corner. When the rider hits the straightaway the body tucks, head down, elbows in, knees tight around the tank. I am told that the length of time of the visualization is close to the actual lap time.

* * *

A critical element of success is a well-prepped bike. Any last minute changes to the bike are risky. One of the riders adjusted the shift rod. As a result, the shift assembly was closer to the ground. When our anchor rider leaned the bike into a corner, the shift level scraped the tarmac causing the bike to upshift unexpectedly.

"Dude, I swear that shift rod was on the bike a moment ago."
Photo by R.Kennedy 2004

Another critical element is pit support. We did our best to make up for our lack of experience by practicing servicing the bike in the morning practice sessions. We were focused on an objective and quickly began functioning as a team. Nothing makes a project manager happier than watching this happen.

Speaking of watching, the lap timer (Susan), the message board person (Franka), and the fire-extinguisher person (Amanda) chose to stand on the pit wall for most of the race. Those of us inside the pit had a lovely view. [picture soon]

Franka and the homemade message board
Photo by R.Kennedy 2004

What was it like to be out there? AFM runs all classes of bikes in one group, so the 250 cc bikes are out there with the litre bikes, but teams are evaluated by class. Even so, if you are riding one of those smaller cc bikes, you are getting zoomed by the bigger bikes. There was one ambulance run during the race, but no one had to be sent by helicopter to the hospital. Karolyn speculated that endurance team races are safer than sprint races because the focus is on the team, not the individual. No one wants to form a team with a rider who has a crash habit if for no other reason than you don't want him riding your bike.

* * *

There are different ways to run a successful endurance race. For an experienced team, success might be racking up the most laps with the best time. For us, success meant the bike surviving four hours of being ridden hard, and, all riders completing their rotations without falling off the bike.

During the race, I watched more than one bike come off the track on paddle-walk power. I had nothing to do with our bike's prep, but I'm still proud of it for just finishing.

Although he has years of experience, and recently rode the Isle of Man TT race, Mark hadn't raced in a couple of years. He was smiling quietly after he completed his rotations. Ed was also brimming with satisfaction. Our anchor rider, although the fastest rider of the group, admitted he was out of shape and eschewed the celebration dinner to head home and relax. Karolyn was blitzed and deservedly proud of the outcome of her endeavor.

Karolyn and Ed: "Really, your suspension will be so much better now".

Mark: "Don't you have beer?"           Photos by R.Kennedy 2004

Watching the sidecar race event after our endurance race:
Ed, Amanda, Susan, Mark          Photo by R.Kennedy 2004

Last Pit Stop and Success!          Photo by R.Kennedy 2004

* * *

The next day Karolyn would complete her last novice sprint race in the final races of the season. Next season her bike will have the white plates of an expert rider.

The AFM Endurance race closes the track season for me. Femmoto was so good, I decided to end the season with that event and canceled my November dates at Laguna Seca and Infineon. I'll pit for Peter instead. Yes, financial considerations play a part in this decision, but it is okay, I'm happy with this year's track season. Didn't learn much about passing, that's still on the plate for next year.