My story begins, as do most stories, somewhere in the middle.
Four weeks ago, I decided that the size 42 leathers I squoze myself into (well, if you know what I meant, it's a word, isn't it?) were too small, I called Vanson. They had a set of 46's on the rack, returned by a customer who got his name on them, then didn't like the fit. I paid for them, and had them sent to me UPS. They fit great in the legs and shoulders, but the waist is 5-6 inches too big around. Ugh. I order a leftover size 44 from Vanson for comparison. That one is too tight in the legs, but fits well in the middle. After several conferences with their people I decide to return the 44, and pony up the $ to adjust the middle of the suit with Mr. VANCURA's name on it. They assure me that I'll have them for racing the weekend of the 12th with "NO PROBLEM." At the same time, I call the shop I buy my stuff from, and ask that they send the helmet I ordered to me UPS, since I won't be going to that side of the state in the next two weeks. They say they will.
On Tuesday, after the Labor-day weekend, I call Vanson to check the status of my suit. The person with whom I speak allows as how the suit is the next up for repairs, and will be out the door Wednesday night, to get to me Thursday. He tells me that he is writing "must be shipped wednesday night" on the repair order. I sigh. Whew.
Thursday comes and goes. I get home in the early evening, to find no helmet. No leathers. No nuthin'. Several quick calls--the helmet's whereabouts are unknown. He'll try to get me a tracking number. The Vanson suit is just getting started, and the repair slip says "to be done by 9/11"...a far cry from "Must be in Wade's hands by 9/11", and they've given it low priority in the last week, due to the time available. Much frantic phone calling ensues on both my end and Vanson's. Two racers offer to bring them up, if Vanson can get the leathers to them. That doesn't work. Vanson has their track-rep's wife (I'm sorry I forgot your name, Ms. Wood) bring them up Friday. yay! One hassle fixed.
Cut back to Wade's real life: On Thurday afternoon a customer calls and says they NEED me to attend a vehicle inspection in Maine Friday afternoon. Ugh, I'm supposed to be at NHIS to register (and since grid-position is decided by order of registration, this is pretty important). Well, I'm in a service industry, and no money is at stake in the racing, so I go to Maine. I make it back to NHIS in time to register Friday night, but the damage is done. I'm mid-pack in big groups in the races I most wanted to do well in on Saturday. Oh well. Remembering that the last time I registered for four races in a weekend I blew up a motor and had to sit them out, it was with some tripidation that I registered for the LW Sportsman and Production Twins races Saturday, and the GT3 and LW Supertwins Sunday. I pick my leathers up at the Penguin School garage. The waist fits better. My feet still get tangled in the liner in the legs where it is partially open. I don't understand why they did that. I wear the suit home.
Saturday, September 12, 1998
Weather was cool in the morning (high 40's) warming into the 70's in the afternoon, with threatening clouds all day, but no rain. Practices were a little hectic, lotsa people out there. I ran 1:40's with a few 1:35's. At the end of practice two, I ran out of gas and coasted from turn 10 into the pits. This served as a reference point-I put in 2.2 gallons of gas...and ran out again near the end of the second practice Sunday...So I'm burning about 1/2 gallon per 15 minutes of track time. FWIW. In Lightweight Sportsman, there's 36 registered riders. I was gridded at B5, behind half of them. I got a horrible start, and just didn't have the heart to rush with the mob into turn one. I wind up near the end of the line by turn 2. I spend the rest of the race picking my way past people. There were some truly horrible lines being taken. But that's racing, right? At one point, I pass Steve (#215) coming out of turn 3, he takes it back in spades over the hill at turn 5, and pulls in ahead of me to set up for the bowl of turn 6, when suddenly he & I come upon Judy, having trouble with her shifter, OH MY GOD! Brakes Now, Mr. Sulu! I missed Steve's rear tire by the slimmest of margins, and we get past her. I get by him by late braking into turn 1, and I think I can see the end of the lead pack by the time the checkered flies, I'm 10th. Good enough for 6 points. I turned 3 laps in the 1:33's and 2 laps in the 1:32's. I'm pretty pumped about those times, and note that a better grid position, with those times, would have potentially gotten me a trophy. I'll preregister for the next event on Monday. I later learned that Frank Gerhardt followed me for much of the race, without my knowing it.
The production twins race was smaller, with only 20 entrants, but we were gridded with the LW superbikes and Senior Sportbikes. As expected, the Superbikes caught & lapped me mid-race. A mediocre launch gave me opportunity to practice my passing technique, until I caught Frank, who had gridded near the front. I followed him for the last three laps, and though our times were down to the 1:34's, I didn't find a place to pass. I showed him some wheel, and pulled right even with him a couple times on the inside of 1 and 6, but he didn't yield an inch, and I backed out of it. He later said he never once saw me. I follow him to the line taking 6th, for another 7 points.
I went over to turn 6 to corner work for the last four races. One fella low-sided his Ducati into the gravel. Basically unhurt. He rode it back to the pits. Ben, the corner captain, said it had been a busy day for him at this corner, with 6 or 7 events.
Sunday, September 13, 1998
Practices were even worse than yesterday. Lots of people. Lots of crazy lines. Some folks pulled out early due to the general kookiness, myself included.
The GT3 got delayed for a wreck in turn 7 that got two ambulances rolling. (Tony Ianarelli was one of those involved. As of today, 9/14, he's ok with several broken ribs.) We actually took off our helmets on the pre-grid, and I met Matt Lai in person (of New York, and MCN news-fame, riding the featured bike no less), as well as DJ-Worsham (did I get that right?). Eventually, they got that mess cleared, and my GT3, along with a GT1 got started. Sighting lap went ok. Gridding went ok. GT1 wave took off. We got the 1 minute board, and a green....by the time we made it to turn 1, there were red flags. Everyone I saw was good about getting out of it, raising a left hand, and not being stupid into turn 1. Two bikes were in the grass toward the infield of turn 1A, and another on the pavement in turn 2. Static Chaos. It took a while to clean things up, then we rerun the whole thing from scratch.
I get a pretty good launch, and try to stay in it into turn 1. I do ok. I'm feeling pretty good. About lap 3, I'm behind an MZ....I run wide into 6, to set up for a pass up the hill. I had maybe 10-15 miles per hour advantage at the crest of the hill, and he was 5-6 feet from the right edge curb coming to turn 7, so I pull in to pass. At the apex, he veers right, and we kiss bars. Both of us straighten up, he goes across the grass inside turn 9, while I scrub as much speed as I can off while on the pavement crossing turn 9, get to the grass, try like hell to stay up, but no dice. Down on the left side, moderate tumble for me, and the bike comes to rest against the tire wall. I sit and watch traffic for a few seconds. Take off my glasses. Stand up. Look down at the MZ also on its side against the tires 40 feet away. He's moving ok, and trying to stand it up....I mull for a few more seconds, then decide to consider reentering the race. Pull the bike up, the controls on the left are all twisted around the bar, and slid partially off, as is the grip. I push them back on. Pull the brake & clutch levers-they're ok. snap the throttle-it's ok. the windshield is broken and hanging halfway off, and interferring with bar motion to the right--I give it a good yank and pull the bits off. Hop on the seat, and decide that my left footpeg is busted. With nothing really at stake, I'm not gonna try to be a hero. I wheel the bike down away from the track, and hop onto the wall to watch the rest of the race.
My son, Tim, was in the pits, and couldn't have seen me, but I'm sure he's wondering where I am, so I get the cornerworker to radio down to get one of the guys to go over to the truck to tell Tim I'm ok. The GT3 was shortened to only 20 minutes (due to vintage racing & crash delays), so the end arrives soon, and I ride the bike back to the pits. I can feel my thumb twinge some, but I think it's just sprained. I can still move it all around ok.
After pondering a while, I decide to try to make my next race. Frank Gerhard & Chris help me put number plates back on, and replace the footpeg with the one from a busted bike I just bought from Landis (Chris's pit-partner). I make it through tech and grid just about on time.
In the LW Supertwins, I ran horrible times. The bike felt awful, but I think it was mostly in my head. I don't even know where I finished. Load things & return home.
My task now is to get the front of my race bike rideable again, and perhaps fabricate one complete spare bike from the parts of the two extra bikes I have. Two weeks until the AMA event at NHIS. See ya'all there!
Summary
three sprint races = $150
one GT3 race = $80
Pit pass = $20
Gas truck/bike = $15
Food = 10 (mostly from home)
One DNF
three finishes, with 13 points
I have 11 races and 41 points toward the 10 races / 45 points needed to move to Junior.
BIKE SETUP:
Same final drive (14/42)
rear tire=decent 150/80-16 Metzler ME33 Laser
front tire=beat 120/80-16 Metzler ME99
28psi front, 29 psi rear
mesh air filter screen
Progressive front fork springs
15W fork oil
Sintered EBC-HH
No forkbrace
89 Octane pumpgas
