Speedtherapy

PPIHC - Travis May be Back!

2016-12-09T22:42:00.000+00:00

Some awesome news today... Pikes Peak Sage and friend Travis Newbold will be entering PPIHC on a BOTT XR1.
Check out the Sideburn post for more details.

I spoke to Travis earlier... he's stoked! It'll be brilliant to see Travis back on the mountain... maybe we can join him ;-)

I hadn't heard of BOTT. Check out thier website. Cool bikes. Love the concept of them selling component parts. Maybe that's the next project. 'Next' project? Ahem... yes. I've been shit at blog updates... just so goddamn busy :-( But, something is afoot in the Speed Therapy garage. Got a few days off over Christmas so I promise a post in the next few weeks.

Newbold Wisdom

2016-10-19T21:33:00.000+01:00

Free wisdom from the racing sage Travis Newbold on the 747 blog...

Friends

2016-10-09T20:25:00.002+01:00

Pikes Peak 2016 was one heck of an adventure. Made possible and so very special by those that did it with me. The team. My friends.

Travis and Ant... for all your help, support, coaching, time, effort, energy, expertise, experience, humour, good spirits, determination and faith. You guys are the meaning of awesomeness... you guys rock! I could never have done this without you.

And, my beautiful wife Alex... for all your understanding, help, support, patience, love, energy and being with me on that mountain. I love you with all my heart.

What a team! Thank you for helping me live my dreams. My gratitude is eternal.

It was so much fun... maybe we can do it again someday ;-)

PPIHC - Sunday - Race to the Clouds 3

2016-09-25T18:04:00.001+01:00

I get her stood up out of switchback number three in the second series of the Double-yous and am hard on the gas to set her up for the fast left hander. On the left: a wall of red, hard rock. On the right: just blue sky. The blind turn disappears somewhere left… ahead, just more blue sky. This is 'OhShit' corner. There is a famous YouTube clip of a guy in a four-wheeler that failed to turn left. Apparently he thought it was a different turn. The four-wheel metal box got airborn and flies down the mountainside. It lands and tumbles hundreds of feet below, spewing off shrapnel all the way till it stops - just a ball of mashed metal. A few seconds later, the driver clambers out!

We know where turn goes... “Wait for it… wait for it… wait for it… now!” I turn the bike in, looking for the three foot gravel gully between the vertical rock-face and the course edge. I swoop past it, bike cranked over and start feeding her gas. “Braaaap!”. “Nice one!” I smile to myself... “Braaapaaaaaaaaaap”. As I cross the central line, the back-end steps out…

Oh Shit!

Despite the traction control being on (albeit on a low level), the bike starts sliding sideways. Here is a perfect example of relativity in action. If the bike was doing this on a big MotoGP track, it would feel like it was a few inches out of line and nae bother. But up here, on OhShit corner, it felt like I was fourty-five degrees sideways and I was about to be launched in to outer space! Oh Shit!

I ease the throttle – no point getting out of a slide by high-siding yourself to the moon. The big girl is so well mannered and is back in line before I know it. I get her onto the meat of the tyre and drive to the next switchback. That wasn’t much fun.

Hard on the brakes again for the eighth switchback in the last sixty seconds. The lever is definitely coming back to the bar. Despite the brand-new HH sintered pads and race fluid, my brakes are fading. I guess those mass-produced-to-budget Brembos are just not up to the job. My old 1999 Aprilia RSV has been hammered around the UK short circuits for the last 11 years… older caliper and still on the original discs… never had brakes fading. They just don’t make ‘em like they used to!

After my moment at OhShit and with now with my brakes fading, I decide to just take it back a notch or two… enjoy the ride and make it to the top. “Take it easy… just get her to the top.” I mutter under my hard breathing – the Double-yous on this big bike at this altitude is hard work. I remembered to breathe between the switchbacks, so am still feeling strong. “Just get her to the top.”.

Through the fan-zone at Devils Playground on onto the desolate upper section. There are no trees or bushes… just a bit of whispy grass here and there. A spectacular landscape of rocks and boulders. As you climb to the summit, even the grass thins out. Just red rock and sand… it’s like being on Mars.

The first, fast, blind left-hander… as I’m tipped in, there is a greazy whistle-pig in the middle of the track. My line is through the middle of the right-lane right. That citter is in the left lane. “Just stay where you are you fat bastard.” No sooner had I thought that than he starts ambling toward the outside of the track…

There is only about six feet of track before the nothingness edge on the right. More space on the left… turn harder but at risk of pushing the front and landing up sailing through the nothingness anyway. Besides, that waddling fur-ball may stop, or change his mind and turn around. I’m not cranked too far over and all is stable n steady. It only takes tenths of a second, but I decide to hold my line… he keeps walking. Our trajectories are going to intersect… I grip the bars tighter and hang on.

Flldoup! I feel the brief impact. I hold steady and the big girl takes the poor piggy in her stride. ‘Multi’ ‘Strada’ – many roads… built for keeping you safe on rural roads too! It was quick and humane… marmot stew tonight! We were still headed to the top.

The next rider up with a cam was Masahito Watanabe on his sidecar – 9 mins and 4 seconds into his YouTube vid and you’ll see the effect of a cooling 120/60 profile Pirelli Supercorsa.

If I had slowed up before the wildlife incident, I’d slowed up more after. The ride up there was fun, but by then I just wanted to get it home and see the summit. On that upper section I was a nearly 20 seconds slower than my fastest practice run. The riding wasn’t that much fun thereafter – probably because I wasn’t pushing. But, it sure was pretty!

Up through Carl’s. Godspeed. Cog-Cut… brake early. Up to Olympic where there is water across the course. I pick her up and pootle up the last 200 yards to the guy theatrically waving two chequered flags. We’re there! 14 110feet above sea level – the summit of Pikes Peak!

I brake early, but I’m going so slow I almost stop before I get onto the muddy, pot-holed gravel of the parking lot. No whoops, no yeeehas. Just quiet relief. We made it. Fuck, yeah. We made it.

I park up against a rock and join the other riders already up there for back-slaps and ‘well done’s. We can only get down again once all the cars are up at the end of the event - which they’r e hoping will be around 14h00 because of the reduced competitor numbers. I check the timing screen in the ‘hospitality’ area – 11 minutes and 21 seconds. My unspoken goal was to do a sub-ten minute run. I’m way off… that’s a bit crap. I get 4th in the Heavyweight class… just don’t mention they only accepted five entries ;-). Overall – we’re placed 45th… that’s out of 33 bikes and 66 cars. Kinda in the middle – that’s ok for a rookie. Looking at it that way I feel a bit better about it.

Interviews at the top... Rennie Scaysbrook was on it all week. He was leading by 8 seconds when he overcooked a switch-back. He hit the armo... he flipped over the barrier and his bike railed along it to a standstill with just a few scuffs. He remounted and finished second. Great ride and uUnbelievably lucky!

The rest of our wait at the top starts to really drag on. As competitors, we get a free meal from the café at the top… it’s shit. Far more risky than the ride up! The best part of the wait is having a good chat with and getting to know some of the other of riders. Some spectating at Olympic and watching some of the cool cars coming up. The cars are a different world to the bikes. Some of them probably spend as much on tyres for the week than my whole bikeeffort cost me. Some serious, exotic, expensive stuff up there - no road cars without lights and just an exhaust.

Good job!!

One of my favorite, bad ass cars that made it up. Just gotta love some Mopar muscle!

Just after 16h00 and we’re told to get ready for the descent. We all suit up and get on our machines. We wait… and wait. The weather starts to turn nasty… thick cloud forms below us. Soon, we’re enveloped in swirling cloud… then its starts to sleet… then hail. Lovely! After standing in this shit for 15 minutes I have frozen water dribbling down my back and I’m starting to get real cold. I seek refuge in one of the vans with Davey Durelle. We’re crammed in there for about 20 minutes while the storm rages outside. The storm passes and eventually we get the all-clear to head back down the mountain.

Thank you Mark Miller for the pic!

Thank you Marcel Langer for the pic!

We go down in procession. Slowing to a walking pace wherever there were fans lining the road… drivers and riders have their gloved hands out and it’s one continuous high-five all the way down. Some of the spectators cheering, clapping and so many thanking us as we high-fived. Little toddlers held up by their parents with their palms out and wide-eyed kiddies at knee-level stretching out. This is a PPIHC tradition… it’s awesome. It reminded me of one of the most poignant moments of my racing on the Isle of Man that happened a little over a year ago.

PPIHC 2016 - High five all the way down.

Priceless

TT 2015 - High five all the way up the return road.

Priceless.

I’m a bit bewildered by it all. At some places the procession grinds to a halt… and you just keep getting palms. I have enough high-fives to now last me a lifetime! There’s an ear-to-ear grin pasted on my face when I finally get down to the pits/paddock where Ant it waiting for me. Fist-pumps and big hugs. Awesome job Dood! Awesome job Team!

PPIHC - Sunday - Race to the Clouds 2

2016-07-24T16:36:00.001+01:00

The timing loop start is a few hundred yards up the course… so no need to get a Dirttrack-type on-the-milli-second start-line blast-off. Just get her off the line in my own time… firmly. Start as you wish to proceed! I get her going without fuss and give her beans through first gear. Up to second then short-shift as I tip her into the first left-lander – the timing loop is just on the exit of this first turn –I try and get her smoothly in and drive hard out while tripping the clock.

It starts – thousandths of seconds flashing by so quickly they are just a blur. A thousand moments later, digital ‘1’ appears under the ‘sec.’… let’s try to get as few of those as possible. Tick-tock-tick-tock… I try get on the gas hard at the exit as I setup for the first fast right-hander just moments down the course.

Feck! This is hard. From standstill, with no warmup, then trying to push the limits around a fast turn within a few seconds. Imagine this: Arriving at a track you have never been to before. You go out on a road-bike you have hardly ridden before and go around in cold, early morning conditions for just 3 laps. Two days later, you roll up to the start line on the same bike, but now you’re in a race. No warm-up laps. No sighting lap. That first turn you’ve only done 3 times before, in different conditions. You’ve got to do 10 minutes of laps as fast as you can. Then it’s all over. This is what Pikes Peak is like. It’s hard!

I’m tentative on the throttle… trying to feel the traction. Seems okay… I get her upright and pour on the coals down the very short straight for the next right-hander. It should be nearly flat-out… but I throttle off way before and then feel my way to the entry. “What a knob! Go, go, go!” I chastise myself. Next right hander I’m only marginally better.

At the TT you go from zero to flowing, flat-out 150mph turns, downhill, lined with kerb-stones, poles and garden walls. It took me a year or two and many practice starts to get my head into that. Probably at least fifty stand-still starts before I could do the turning jump through St Ninians and Bray Hill flat-out. But once you ‘know’… you ‘know’. Your mind overcomes that feeling that you’re just about to get mashed into the stonework and it’s going to hurt like almighty-fuck. Your mind overcomes this in a fleeting moment and with ease… because you ‘know’.

Despite the hours of study and well over a hundred on-board starts, I still hadn’t got my head into these Colorado turns… or these turns into my head. I didn’t ‘know’ and my body closed the throttle and hit brakes way too early – it was involuntary. My mind was screaming at my self-preserving instinct… “Stop fucking around and GO FAST!”.

You got no second chance here. On circuits you go round in circles… if you screw it up one lap… soon you’ll have another go at it to get it right. I had one chance at those first three turns… and I screwed them up. Fuck.

Into the first of the left-handers. I set it up out to the right and turn in late… I pull the Big Duck over and start carving an arc to the apex. I cross the double-yellow line in the centre of the course. The bike has a little two-wheel slide. Shit! WTF? I don’t remember that in practice! A bit un-nerving. Out to the right again for the next left-hander… carrying bit more speed. Shit! She just slid over those lines again. This sucks.

I’m trying to get on the gas earlier and harder… but she feels as if the rear is just about to let go. I was warned about this all week. Practice is early morning, a lot cooler and surprisingly grippy. Race day is always a bit later, warmer but counter-intuitively slicker. Weird. There are theories of dust and spectator traffic pissing coolant on the course. The best I’ve heard is that as the tar warms, it sweats. It was sweating like a net-vested short-order burger flipper.

I slow things down in my head to try speed things up on the course. Keep focussed… ride to the conditions. “Remember where you are on this squiggly line to the clouds… what’s next? And what’s after that? Where do I need to be? Can I go faster? Give it more throttle? Get off those damn brakes! Don’t turn in too soon!” I just try and relax into it, make no stupid mistakes and keep it flowing. Despite struggling to know how fast I can get into turns, it starts to come together. Right-right-left-right-wide open-brake-down one-in deep-left-right-right… like a ticker-tape rattling through my head.

By the time I’m stretching the cables down the short ‘Halfway Picnic Grounds’ straight-away, lined with spectators, I’m really starting to enjoy it. I’m treating it as a fast blat on my local roads with no traffic to make room for or to think for. I can carve wide lines from white-line to white line. This is fun!

On some turns there are about three feet of tar on the other side of the white line… inviting… tempting. Despite the sliding on the middle-lines, I give it a go, hoping the white lines have a bit more grip than the yellow. Front end slides as I cross the line, I apex, then slip on the way out again. Nah – just as slippy, just not worth it.

Up through the fan-zones at Ski Area and through the beautifully cambered, one-eighty degree uphill sweeping turns. More crowds lining the course through Glen Cove. I take it easy through as I feel my tyres rumbling over the loose gravel on the inside of the turn. I give myself lots of room going into George’s Corner – “Late, late, late!” I get the best line through there all week and can get on the gas hard and fast. The full-race system on the Multi reverbing off the steep rock-face on the outside of the turn sounds awesome!

More crowds up through Cove Creek and I’m just loving the fast triple right-hander leading up to Elk Park. “Right… keep turning… right… keep turning… look through the turn… right…”. I approach Elk Park a lot faster than in Wednesday’s practice - this is the first time I’ve done this section on the Big Red Duck. I brake early – the heavy girl takes some stopping… “Whoooah, girl. Whoah.”. Remembering Carlin’s coaching, I run her deep into the outside lane for the switchback and drive a wide arc in the middle of the course, avoiding the steep incline at the apex. Nice!

Up the steep hill towards Ragged Edge - I’m unsure how fast I can get through this turn where the course just seems to end in an expanse of clear blue sky. I err on the side of caution and have loads of room through there and even more through the next fast Armco-lined left. Hard on the gas for the short squirt before more heavy braking for the first series of Double-yous.

One, two, three Double-yous… fast, blind, blue-sky right hander… just… keep… turning…

The Armco for the start of the next series of Double-yous pops into view. Nice! Switchback number one, number two, number three. The tall, heavy Duke is a bit of a handful through these switch-backs and I’m giving myself plenty of time and room on this very unfamiliar stretch. Careful on two… that’s the turn I screwed up a few times during practice. On the brakes into three I think I feel the brake lever coming back to the bar a bit more than before. “Huh? Are my brakes fading?”

PPIHC - Sunday - Race to the Clouds 1

2016-07-23T19:40:00.002+01:00

Been back at work... nose to the grindstone. The race write-up was done in pieces while I travelled... so it got kinda long. Here is part 1:

Sunday 26^th June, 01h30. My alarm wakes me from dreams of mountains, sky and a single track going up. With sleepy eyes in the hushed, warm stillness of the suburbs, we get our stuff together and we’re out the door by 02h00. 02h15 and we hit the back of the queue which is already down to the turn-off a mile or so from the park gate and a few hundred yards along the route 24 dual carriage-way.

We crawl to the intersection then on the climb up to the gate. Spectators are being waved off the entrance roadway along the way and into a big parking lot for ‘Santa’s Workshop’ – a creepy, bizarre Santa theme park. I guess it makes sense in winter when covered in snow… but having a ‘Pensioners Day’ at over 30 degrees in summer is just weird. By 03h00 we’re through the gate and climbing the few miles to the race paddock.

We find the bike paddock – a rough clearing on the side of the road just before the car paddock (the dirt has been graded flat for the cars). Head and hand-held torches pierce through the dust like light-sabres. We are directed by one of these waving sabres to a small space – I get in okay and drive into the rough ground as far as I can, stopped by a big log. We have space behind to offload and not block the road.

We unload the bike and get her setup. It’s a strange atmosphere. Trucks, vans and cars everywhere… moving, backing-up, parking. Crowds everywhere… crew, organisers, spectators. All moving in some sort of hushed, organised, chaos. We make sure everything is set before the roll-call, rider’s briefing, morning prayers and then driver’s briefing. We curl up in the quiet warmth of the van to try get some more sleep.

I wake when it’s already light, the edge of the van door digging a crevasse into my back. “Uuuugh… “. I move around to try get comfortable. No chance of that. I am thinking to get up and about, stretch the stiffness outta my bones and see what the craic is in the paddock when Travis appears at the window. “Morning!”

Travis was at a friend’s wedding the night before and then still gets up early, rides through the queues and crowds to get to the paddock by 06h00 to help out. The Man is a legend in so many ways.

By 06h30 the stream of spectators going up the mountain is thinning out. “Paul?” “Here!” - Roll-call. I’ve never had roll-call at a race meeting before. Rider’s Briefing: “Course looks good. One of the Squadra Alpina will go up before we start and report back on conditions. Have a good run and stay safe.”

Morning prayers led by Doug Chestnutt – short and sweet, followed by some shit coffee from the burger van at the start line. Tyre warmers on, pickup our transponder then to Driver’s Briefing. Notes about the running order, conditions and safety. Double check everything on the bike… check all my gear. Go through the course map and an on-board refresher as we wait for the 08h30 start.

Before the start, Carlin Dunne from Squadra Alpina goes up the course and reports back: wet and icy through the last few turns. There is a 45 minute delay to the start. This year they are trying a new ‘Hot Grid’ system for the bike start. 20 bike ‘garages’ under awnings and with power for tyre warmers are setup along the road leading to the start line – all setup courtesy of Ducati USA. Thanks guys! The first 20 bikes are setup there and as they start, the subsequent starters fill the garages. Being in the Heavyweight class, we’re one of the last bikes away.

The first runners start… every 2 minutes or so, another bikes blasts off the start line. Our garage opens up and we wheel the bike up and get her back on tyre warmers - she’s never had her boots so toasty! There is a red flag and proceedings come to a halt. We wait it out under the awning. Even that early in the morning, the sun is harsh… would be unbearable in leathers with no shade. The garages are also fenced off from the public… apparently in years past it was always quite hectic, packed with punters jostling around while you were trying to focus under the blazing sun. This new setup is good.

Eventually things get going again and the riders ahead start moving up to the start line. I keep stretching, keeping lose and relaxed and start focussing on the job at hand. I think through the first sequence of turns. Get my mind into gear. No sighting lap… just roll onto the start line and go from zero to bat-shit in a few seconds. A bit like the TT.

“Have a good one… GO FAST!” I say to the three Heavyweight riders ahead of me. I give my wife a hug and kiss – she wishes me luck. Helmet and gloves on.

Focus.

Ant and Travis get the Big Red Duck started up, off her warmers and ready in the hot-grid lane. I swing a leg over her. Go-fast wishes and fist-pumps all round. Then I’m bimbling down the spectator-lined hot-grid lane to the start line. Phud-phud-phud-phud-phud-phud… the big girl from Modena is about to get a thrashing of her life for the next 12 miles. I hope she’s up for it… I am.

The starter is waiting for me. I stop 5 meters from the start clock – another new thing for this year. The starter looks me in the eye and nods. I nod back. He points the green flag at me and then at the clock… the count-down starts. 10… 9… I flip my visor down and make sure it’s locked in place… 8… 7… I make sure my glove straps are secure… 6… 5… I prod the gear lever a few times to make sure she’s in first gear… 4… 3… I slowly let out the clutch just to the point of dragging… 2… 1… I start feeding her throttle… 0… the light goes green.

PPIHC - Saturday - Rest

2016-07-10T18:20:00.002+01:00

The early mornings were taking it's toll. I had kindda kept my body-clock somewhere between Colorado and Austria time... so it wasn't so much the early wake-ups, it was just lack of sleep. Five days on the trot with only 4 to 5 hours sleep. Just not enough for me. By six in the evening every day, Mr. Sandman had chucked grit in my eyes and my were bloodshot. I was just damn tired.

There is a cool 'Western Wear' store near the retail park just a mile from the cottage. we tried on some hats... I bought one :-)

Saturday we slept in... got my first proper sleep in about a week. We had a nice lazy breakfast before going to collect the wheels with new tyres on for the race and a few other errands in Colorado Springs. Ant and I then did a bit of prep on the bike for the race. Ant finished off the prep and Alex and I took a walk to the nearby 'Garden of the Gods'. It's quite spectacular.

I then took Alex up to the top of Pikes Peak... I used it as a last real-life refersher of the course. Left, right, right, right, left, left, right, right, left, right... I was remembering it! It's so scenic all the way up. The views from the top are breathtaking.

I was still pretty tired, the heat didn't help. All week it was in the low to mid thirties. Mid-week when we were up in Denver with the Big Red Duck, it was thirty-eight in the shade. At one mile above sea level, the sun is angry... you start burning within 20 minutes. We got back to the cottage in the late afternoon and the Big Red Duck was all set and ready to go. Thanks Ant!

Loads of old-timer American iron around... most of them still in daily use.

Marajuana is legal for medicinal purposes in Colorado. I the little town of Manitou Springs, it is legal for leisure use too. It's a booming business with a dope shop on every second street corner. Maggies Farm had a big parking lot that was always full... a hundred yards down the road was thier overflow parking that was always busy too. A bit like Amsterdam for the Brits, folks come to Manitou Springs just to get stoned!

We crashed out for another siesta... my body had many hours of catching-up to do! An hour later I was woken by the regular afternoon thunderstorm. The light and summer weather in Colorado is very much like Johannesbug, South Africa - where I grew up and spent most of my life. Similar altitude, similar bright, hard light. Warm, dry and dusty. Most afternoons, huge, black Cumulus clouds roll in. Thunder and lightning. You can smell the rain... then a ten minute downpour. Clouds move on and the sun shines again. Everything washed and clean.

Loads of eclectic shops with cool stuff... like this one where you can get oil lamps, guns, ammo, tools, dungarees... everything you need for your western mountain adventure!

That evening we went to downtown Manitou Springs for a walk-around to check out the hippies and crazies and for the best steak in town at the Keg (local opinion that we have confirmed). We got back to the cottage and were in bed before it was dark - we had to be at the gate to the park well before 03h00. Between 03h00 and 06h00, they let the spectators up the single-carriage roadway. If you get there much later than 03h00, you'll be queueing for miles all the way back into town.

My head hits the pillow and I dream of a single-track to the clouds... tomorrow we're goin' racin!

PPIHC - Friday - Qualifying

2016-07-08T10:57:00.001+01:00

The 2:30 am routine is getting tiresome. Not getting enough sleep is starting to wear on me. Last day of practice and the motorbikes are on the lower section from the Start line to just below Glen Cove. It's also our 'qualifying' day - our fastest times will determine our start order in class for the race on Sunday. Setting off at one minute intervals on the day, qualifying doesn't really give one any advantage. More for safety and the psychological effect.

Early morning setup.

We're all setup in the dark paddock just below the start line before the eastern skies start glowing. We go through the normal routine and I stretch and get warmed up for our sighting run. Ant and Travis have the Bug Red Duck's tyres all warmed up, engine warm, all fuelled up and checked over once more.

We start the sighting run about 15 minutes later than on the top section... it takes longer for the light to reach us in the low forest than it does higher up on the side of a mountain. In the dim glow of morning, we set off in single-file, carving a line of exhaust noise through the fast, flowing lower section.

Coaching from a PPIHC legend :-)

With only four real switchbacks on the section, there are over fifty faster turns. Some flat-out, some long, lazy, constant-radius 180 degree arcs. Combinations of lefts and rights... some double and even a few triple apexes.

It's a beautiful section of track... the biggest challenge is that through the forest, a lot if the turns look the same. I've been memorising the combinations in the onboard videos for the last six months... it certainly helps. I kinda know where I am and what is next... I'm thinking two turns ahead, making sure I'm in the right place to get through them fast and flowing.

Waiting at the top of the section with Tomasz Gombos.

We all wait at the end of the section as the sky fills with light... soon were carving our way back. Right, left, right, left, right, left, tight right... left, left... must remember that. I try a get the sequences burned in my mind going backwards too.

Debrief, tyres warmed, me warmed. "The 8 mile sign with the bear on it is your marker for the slower corners." Travis is giving me valuable advice. I'm taking it all in.

Gary Trachy and Michelle Disalvo.

Mark Miller and Marcel Irnie on thier electric bikes.

Next run I'm on my own... trying to get the sequence if turns and my pace right. The Big bike is lazy and I've got to man-handle it around. There is a delay and we're waiting at the end of the section for a while.

Back to the paddock. A Japanese sidecar team have been having problems with their Formula 1 outfit... problems started on Tuesday's practice. The machine wouldn't start. They have been working on it since Tuesday Angus hang yet get a single run in. They're at every practice. Manuals out, checking, stripping down, reassembling, replacing, scratching their heads, discussing, checking, trying different things. The motor didn't even splutter... just cranks over. They are based out of a motel just down the street from our cottage. Every time we drove past, we'd see them on the forecourt working to fix the outfit. They spent days on it. Never once being upset or pissed off... just diligently working away to try fix it.

They were in the paddock opposite us working away again. As we were waiting for my second run, we heard their outfit burst into life. The Suzuki 1000 motor was alive! The whole paddock burst out in cheering, clapping and whoops! High fives and big hugs from half of the paddock... these guys just had massive grins on their faces as they then scrambled to get the outfit back together in time for a few practice/qualifying runs.

On my second time run, I'm 8 seconds faster than the first. Masahito Watanabe arrives at the top with us in his formula 1 to more cheers and hugs. There is another long delay as we wait at the end of the section. One if the other sidecars has gone off. It takes time to recover the bent outfit but both the driver and monkey are OK. We're running out if time. It's almost 8 by the time we head back down. Curfew is at 8:30.

Back to the start line and I turn the bike around and join the small queue... I need to get at least one more run in. Cold tyres, but getting track time us more important. Soon I roll up to the starter and am ready for my last practice run.

A minute later, the starter shakes his head and holds up a red flag. Shit. We wait... the minutes ticking away.

At 08:25, the starter gets the all clear and I'm off for my final practice run. The section is only 5 or so miles long... barely enough time to warm the tyres up. I just gotta take it easy. Despite that, I cut another 8 seconds off my last run. I qualify 4th in class with a 4:52 on the section. I'm way off the pace of the top three. Just need more track time. Masahito qualifies as fastest sidecar with just 2 runs!

World-famous dirt-bike riding Baja

Practice was just over 3 1/2 hours long. 33 riders/sidecar drivers over a 5 mile run that takes about 5 minutes. We get only 3 runs at it... 15 miles on track. As a comparison, TT/Manx GP practice runs around the same length of time... but with anything from 100 to 200 riders on a 37.7 mile course that takes around 20 minutes per lap. On an evening's practice, one will normally get 4 laps in... 150miles on track!

This is the biggest challenge for me at Pikes Peak... so little time on a bike I don't know and learning 156 turns I have never ridden before. I am not a professional rider and want to come home to my wife in Austria... this is no place to take chances. I have no hope of getting a podium unless one of the faster guys don't make it to the top. I just gotta take it easy, enjoy the ride and get to the top.

Record setter 747 at the Lone Duck

Cowboy makes the best smoked brisket I've ever had!!

A bit disappointed with the limited track time, we pack up and head down the Hill to the Lone Duck campground where Lisa (the landlord) cooks us pancakes and sausages for breakfast. Where we make plans for the bike prep and race day on Sunday. More shit coffee but we're so tired we still get our heads down for a few hours after.

Bumper-to-bumper all the way back to Denver...

That afternoon, we were back at the Lone Duck feasting on some home-smoked brisket that Cowboy had brought. It was fantastic! Then I drove back up to Denver airport through rush-hour traffic to pickup my beautiful wife who is out for the weekend. Back to Colorado Springs to catch the last hours of the 'Fan Fest'.

A few blocks in downtown Colorado Springs is closed off and they had food stalls, some race-related stalls and a few of the race teams setup. All to fastest qualifiers are also all setup and signing autographs. There was a mini arena with displays and some Freestyle MX. By 10 we were cream-knackered and headed back to the cottage for some sleeeeeeeeep.

PPIHC - Thursday - The Big Girl Back in Business

2016-07-04T22:41:00.000+01:00

The third day in a row, up at 02:30 and up the mountain to ride bikes before dawn. We were on the top section for official practice... the scene of the of the Big Red Duck shitting herself less than 48 hours before. We setup on the road. Head-torches on, Ant and Travis go through everything on the bike again. Checking all bolts and fasteners. The electronic settings: traction control on low, ABS off, suspension as before, heated grips... "Error". Ooops. Ah, Travis replaced those fat, stodgy grips with slim, grippier race items. A compromise.

The dream team prep the Duck...

Roll-call. Briefing. Prayers. We wait for the pre-sunrise glow below us. 05:10 we get the signal for the sighting run. Braaaaaap! Braaaaaap! That big, torquey vee-twin feels like an old pair of slippers. They're in my blood. We get to the summit with no fuss. Engine pulling as well as it can at over two miles above sea level. No flat spots as we had two days ago.

Thanks Ant for some awesome pics!

The top section has seven fast, blind, mostly off-camber left-handers. They all look kinda the same... a steep rocky incline coming down to the tar on then left and just blue sky on the right - looks like you're about to ride off a cliff. The challenge is remembering which one is which and how fast you can take them. Near the top, just before the last two switchbacks from the muddy, potholed summit is one of these challenging turns. Travis lost his good friend and road race mentor here last year: Carl Sorenson. Unofficially known as Carl's, I treat it with caution.

I only know Carl by association, but as with the TT course, when I pass a place where a racer I have known has fallen, I crack them a nod and whisper 'Godspeed' under my breath. Godspeed Carl.

Travis and Carl, PPIHC 2014

Pic by Sam Christmas.

Pics by Jamie Price.

Another 'challenge' on the top section is the wildlife. Last year there were mountain goats. I didn't see any on Thursday morning, but there were loads of marmots. 'Whistle-pigs' in local speak. These cat-sized critters mooch about sun-bathing on the course and rocks. They're either lazy, not bothered about approaching bikes, or play 'dare' with their mates. If you're cranked over at full lean and hit one of those fat greasy bastards, they'd probably smear down the track and you'd be off. Take care lad.

Sticker wars! Spot the Newbold's Motorbike Shop sticker on teh Squadra Alpina gear...

It's bleak, dim, cold and windy up top. I'm glad to be following the bike ahead back down to the temporary paddock at Devil's Playground in the twilight. Debrief with Travis and Ant. Warmers and jacket on. I try get my head around which turn is which. The onboard footage I have been studying for the last six months were all shot with wide-angle, go-pro like lenses. The track looks wider and the turns look a lot further apart and open on screen than they are in reality. I talk through the combinations with Travis. Where to be careful, where to ride the track as it looks and give it some beans.

Soon, the tyres are up to temp and I'm out for my first run. I treat it as a fast Sunday blat on my local roads... always looking for gravel, critters and other challenges on the course.

Back down... second run. I push a bit harder, setting up turns and carving wider, faster arcs. Just after Carl's is the second-last switchback - Cog-Cut. So named because the cog railway from Manitou Springs in the valley below (where our cottage is) to the summit, passes just meters from the edge of the track. The TT course has tramlines at the Bungalow, Pikes Peak has a cog railway.

The approach to Cog-Cut is bumpy as hell with patches of new tar and repairs everywhere. The extreme weather conditions up there cause severe frost heave and road distortion. You're also carrying a lot of speed from the fast Carl's. I push my braking further down the track than before...

The front tyre ploughs into the valleys and skids with little birdie chirps over the hills on the approach. The back end bouncing from side to side. "Oh shit." I'm getting in a bit hot. I don't want to risk a silly lowside by turning her in on the brakes on cool tyres up there... so I point the big girl uphill just past the edge of the armco and hang onto those anchors. "Whoooah there girl". She's very overweight for a racer... and takes some stopping.

I have enough road in front of me... just get her stopped then turn her on the edge of the road and get going again. Simples. I get up to the white line at the edge of the road... but the verge I expected over the line isn't there. It's been eroded away by a gully... flowing with water.

In slow-motion, I slide the front wheel off the tar onto gravel and into the gully. Clunk! Crap! I get her into neutral and try rock her backwards. She's not budging. There is a fist-sized rock wedged behind my back wheel. Forwards. She's just too big and heavy. Fuck. I need help.

The view back from Cog-Cut...

Fortunately, there is a marshal on the inside of the corner. He radios the paddock then comes reluctantly across to help out while other bikes come skipping and squealing with a similar back-end dance into the turn. Glad it's not only me having difficulty with this braking zone.

The exit of Carl's and the whooped-out run to Cog-Cut... with a fat whistle-pig watching the games...

... handy to have a shitter right there. It was locked... wtf is the point of that?

Made a decent bike-stand though.

We get the BRD loose and park her against a locked portaloo until the session is finished. I amble back down with the group. I get back to looks of relief and concern from Ant and Travis. The marshal had radio'd that #40 is off... sorry guys :-( technically, I was off... but in reality I was standing on the bike at the edge of the track, annoyed at the silliness I was in, my boots filling with freezing water.

This wee mascot from Isle of Man keeps me safe...

We manage to get another 2 runs in. Bike going well... us going faster. On the last run, my Squadra Alpina coach, Carlin Dunne follows me. His advice is to turn in later on those tricky left-handers. They're blind, the track curves left on the entry and you just see sky on the right... the comparitive safety of the rock-strewn inside is the lesser. It's the known known. Too tempting and you start drifting toward it before turning in. They goad you in like Sirens. Resist. Resist....

Carlin Dunne checking my crap lines...

We only get 5 runs... this is like going to Brands Hatch for the first time and riding around for 5 minutes in sub-zero temperatures before tackling twenty-odd turns with no run-off at race pace. That is all the practice and learning you get around here.

I'm still way off finding the right line and speed. I'm a slow learner. Shit. Oh well. 5 runs is better than none... and the bike didn't blow-up . We're back in business!

We load up and head down the mountain and to Uncle Sam's Pancake House to meet Cowboy for some super-unhealthy breakfast. Cowboy is one of Travis' long-term sponsors. A larger than life, Kansas born and bred, Vietnam Vet, stand-up guy and is so into Triumphs he's a got a shop full of them: Tommy's Triumph Shop.

We debfief, make plans for the next 24 hours share bike stories and laughs. Back to the cottage for a midday siesta. Prep the Duck for the last practice on Friday then fill the rest of the afternoon with chores like grocery shopping, a 'buzz-cut' at the local 'Randy's Olde tyme Barber Shoppe' and do the laundry.

Sippin' Sasparilla - never knew what it was before this... now I know. Tastes like Deep Heat muscle rub! Wierdly not too bad...

Randy's Olde Tyme Barber Shoppe

Good 'ole boys in the Shoppe.

The laundromat was amusing... stereotypical... just like in the movies. The instructions for the machines are so ling-winded, they're like a manual printed in 10 size font on posters. So I ask the guy working there how they work."Heck I dunno. I only work here." He drawls. As this foreigner bungles through the process, I get his stock answer three times. I stop short asking him something else just to take the piss... the old guy really didn't know shit from shaiola... he just worked there!

Heck I dunno. I only work here.

Although it was Thursday Mushroomy Monday was still open!

Been looking for Mexican wrestling masks for a while now...

Fancy a tat too?

Manitou Springs is an eclectic hippy-cowboy place.

On our first 'restful' evening (not driving the three to four hour round-trip to Denver), we go into Manitou Springs downtown to meet Cowboy, have a wander around and find some great steaks at the Keg. A good day on the Hill!

PPIHC - Wednesday - Supermoto

2016-07-03T13:08:00.002+01:00

Travis' CRF Supermoto cost him one thousand dollars. Built out of bits of knackered bikes, it has creative touches like old chain-links used for brackets - this bike shows off Travis' ingenious skill as a bike builder. It looks like any other CRF Supermoto... but this one is a wee bit special. At PPIHC 2012 Travis rode it to first place in class and set the course record in the process. A special rider too.

Some special jetting for the altitude...

... and 110 octane race fuel for the CRF.

I had never ridden a Supermoto before. I figure it wouldn't be much different from my old KTM enduro 450... just lower and with a front brake that works. At first light on Wednesday, I was about to find out what all the Supermoto fuss was all about on one of the most gnarly stretches of race circuit in the world.

The dream team!

Ant and I are up at 02:30, meeting Travis at 03:15 and setup in the Glen Cove paddock an hour later. We were on the middle section... starting at Glen Cove, up through the 'Double-Yous' to Devil's Playground. It's the shortest section but also the slowest with ten stop-go switchbacks. It's the easiest to learn but probably the most technical.

Top of the section.

Travis uses his Peak experience and gives the veteran fourfiddy some different jets. Ant gets it through technical inspection, we have riders briefing and morning prayers. Conditions are good and like Tuesday, not too cold or windy. Sighting lap is a bimble up the mountain, just getting used to the throttle and brakes... those are the only things we really need. She bogs down at low revs... but sings perfectly in tune at the top... this is the compromise at over 11,000 feet.

I get my first run in. Man! She is sweet... so well setup. I don't want to change a thing and focus on just learning the series of switchbacks with a few corners like Ragged Edge, Elk Park and Oh-Shit in between. A very strange and beautiful experience... hooning up a mountain-side as fast as you dare as the sun rises. Then meeting up with other riders and chatting about all sorts of things... bikes, cars, mountains, their hometown, other crazy races and the places to get a good burger in town.

Davey Durelle and Elizabeth Deeter. Davy is a Pikes Peak legend with 16 wins to his name!

Carlin Dunne and Paul Livingstone - Spidergrips team owner/boss and organiser of this year's Squadra Alpina

After all the riders have made thieir first run, we cruise back down to the paddock... taking care on cold tyres. Tyre warmers on, debrief. Travis and I talk through the section on the course map... places to be careful, where there is normally gravel on the road, negative cambers and how to get up as fast as possible.

Soon, I head out for my second run. The wee bike is awesome. So light. Nimble. Precise. Sharp. So much more forgiving than the big beasts I am used to. One can take the piss. This is FUN!

I get one of the switchbacks wrong, thinking it's one of the fast left-handers... then Armco pops into view... ooops. Straighten her up and squeeze that brake... she stops so quickly. No problemo. Throw her on her side and we carve up through the apex. Done.

We manage to get four runs in... going faster each time. I'm the third-fastest in the Lightweight class. Really?

For the last run I follow Carlin Dunne. He goes into the switchbacks a lot deeper, driving the big, heavy bike around the less-steep outside slope. Something I must remember when I get to this section during my race run on Sunday. I try burn that image into my mind... I won't be on a wee Supermoto on Sunday. On the last run, the others in the lightweight class up their game and we land up the fifth fastest Lightweight.

Super happy to get that section done... some course learning and a great new experience. Smiles ear to ear!

We pack up and head to the Hungry Bear to chat about the practice over a big ole American breakfast of biscuits-and-gravy, meat-cakes, hash-browns, omlette and shit-truck-stop-coffee. We're all a bit tired so after the big breakfast, we get our heads down for a mid-morning nap.

Some cool cars around town.

That afternoon we head back up to Denver where the guys at Imperial Sportbikes have worked flat-out to get a new motor in the Big Red Duck. She's ready and waiting... the guys even lock wired and siliconed her all up. Race prep done! Thanks Bryan, Tim and all the guys who worked on the bike... Imperial Sportbikes rock!

We get back to the cottage with some supermarket slop to fill our bellies... it feels late, but is only nine aye-em. We're knackered and head to bed.

Americano garden accessories.

PPIHC - Tuesday - First Practice

2016-07-01T21:37:00.001+01:00

Tuesday is the first day of practice – which is like nothing I've ever experienced before...

Because the course is a single road rather than a loop, it is divided into three sections for practice: top, middle and lower. All competitors are divided into three groups with each group practising on a section at a time on consecutive days. As a Rookie, one has to have at least one completed practice run on each of the sections. With four days of practice, Tuesday is our 'bonus' day on the section that we will run twice.

The course is on a private toll road that runs from the base of Pikes Peak to the summit. The toll road owners dare not lose any revenue because of the event - despite the event brining in a huge influx of visitors and untold dollars in exposure - have you ever heard of Pikes Peak not in conjunction with the race? Greedy bastards.

As a result, practice is held in the early morning and finishes by 08h30. As competitors, we have to be off the mountain by 09h30... otherwise we have to pay a princely sum of $12 per person. Glad to help bring visitors to the mountain for them and line their pockets!

The logistics of getting officials, safety crew and race teams up a single road that takes vehicles 45 minutes to get up is tough. And to do this before first light so that practice can begin as it becomes light enough to see is even tougher.

We're up at 02h30. I'm calling VISA and the ACU to sort out some admin over a bowl of granola and fruit. By 03h00 we're outta the door and meeting Travis at the bottom of the mountain for the quiet, sleepy drive up to the paddock at Devil's Playground - 12,780 feet above sea level (for the Brits... Ben Nevis is only 4,416feet). We park up, unload and get the bike set-up on tyre warmers on the road near the start line for the top section. Devil's Playground is a third of the way to the summit at.

Parked up and waiting next to the Victory factory team

At that altitude the air is thin... there ain't much oxygen up there! Pushing the bike up the slope to the road and carrying the toolbox and generator 50 yards gets us out of breath. Everything is just a little bit harder work. There are oxygen bottles available for those that need – I don't use them to try and acclimatise my body.

It is a surreal experience: on the side of a mountain, waiting for first light and the sun to start rising below you before setting off in the twilight, on closed roads for practice.

Our first run form Devil's Playground to the summit is as a group. All 33 motorbike, quad and sidecar entrants follow the 'sweep-riders' up in the early morning glow. It's like a sighting lap – making sure the bike is working ok, getting a feel for track conditions, checking for ice, water, oil, gravel, wildlife and other hazards on the road. It's the first time I get to ride the road as a course rather than a ribbon of tar that is infested with scared, wide-eyed tourists in four-wheeled metal boxes.

Roll-call, riders briefing and morning prayers in the moonlight

We all get to the top where it is frikkin' cold (below zero) and windy. On the way up the bike has a bad flat-spot between 5 and 6 thousand rpm. I put it down to the cold. We descend a few minutes later in single-file, taking it easy on such an decline and with now cold tyres. Safely back to the paddock, tyres on warmers and we get ready for our first run.

I'm keen to get my first run done and start learning this place – so with just 10 minutes heat in the tyres (they take at least 45 minutes on the warmers to get to proper working temp), I hit the ignition button to start the bike up for my first run. The bike comes to life without me cranking the stater motor. “That's weird” I think to myself. I am not familiar with the bike's switch layout and how they all operate. I put it down to Italian strangeness, shrug and line up at the start. The flag guy dressed on arctic gear and thick wooley hat points at me and nods.

First run

Revs up, I get her off the line cleanly. Short-shift first and second to get into a comfortably quick “Braaaaaap” third for the first fast, off camber right-hander. Up another gear and through the blind, cresting left-hander. Run her out to the white line on the exit to setup for the next left. Down to the beautifully cambered medium-fast Bottomless Pit. A racer of years gone by said that if you went off at Bottomless Pit, you'd starve before you hit the ground.

I thread my way through the unfamiliar course. Remembering each turn and the next from my many, many hours of on-board footage studies. I take it easy, trying to take it all in, trying to get a feel for where my lines should be, what gear I should be in... how fast I can go.

Travis and Ant wait for my return. A year ago Travis lost his good friend and mentor Carl Sorenson during pratice on this section. Sorry to keep you waiting Travis... :-(

The bike bogs down horribly between 5 and 6 thousand rpm again. Worse than the sighting run. It didn't do this on our Sunday tests. Shit. Something we need to look into. I get to the summit steadily and join the group of riders... parking closely to try get shielded from the wind. As I pull up, I hear this whirring sound. I think it's the fan going. The engine temp is only 150 F. Strange. I hit the kill switch and it is silent.

Paul Livingstone is up there and we have a chat. After 20 minutes, we get the signal to go down. I'm cold and keen to get back to the paddock to get warmed up, look into the bogging down and get out for another run. The Big Red Duck doesn't start. Huh? I can't get any life from her. Fuck. This is not good. Carlin Dunne knows a bit about Ducatis and comes over. He is puzzled. We try get her started by rolling down the road on bump-starting.

Ant getting a hit of oxygen

We get a burble out of her... but nothing more. The faster we go down that steep descent, the less she wants to start. The slipper clutch just engaging. The engine is dead.

We free-wheel to Upper Gravel Pit. It's a steep uphill to the next turn, they need to get the next session started so we have to abandon the bike there. I get a lift back to the paddock with Carlin - our practice session is over. Bike problems suck. That I am missing an entire practice day sucks even bigger.

We pack up and watch the cars doing the middle section below us. Some of those cars are awesome! Big, bad-ass American racing vee eights with open exhausts booming up the mountain. The upside is that I get to watch a bit of what else is going on.

When the session ends, we get the van to the bike and load her up. We get down off the mountain and get her back to the cottage where Ant and I try find the problem while Travis heads back to his bike shop. The Ducati mechanics with the Squadra Alpina reckon our sprag-clucth is gone. A common malady with big vee-twins. Ant and I fiddle about and come to that same conclusion. We give Imperial Sportbikes in Denver a call – I bought the bike from them and they race Ducatis – they have a new sprag-clutch on the shelf and will fit it for us that afternoon.

Ant making gang-signs...

Ant and I load the bike and head 1 ½ hours north to Denver. We leave the bike in their capable hands and get some Asian-cajun food while they work. An hour later we return to the workshop. We are greeted by Tim; “It's bad news. Have a look at this...” He shows us where the sprag-clutch is inside the engine case. The end of the crank has snapped right off!

wtf?!

Holy Shit! This is bad. Not worth repairing – the engine is stuffed.

However, we're in luck... Imperial bought in a crashed 1200 Multistrada just a few days ago... and that motor will fit right in. Our motor is standard, so it should be plug-n-play. It'll take 20 hours and they'll only charge for the motor. That's real good of them – it's not their fault but they want to get me back on the hill. They get to work on Tuesday afternoon and we start making calls to find out what the options are for practice and qualifying.

Travis has the best moto-sickle shop in the world!

We get the go ahead to get out for the first official and mandatory practice on another bike for Wednesday morning. We just gotta make some runs. Back to Travis' workshop where he offers me his 2012 record-setting super-moto for the job. We get prepping... just a bit of lock-wire here and there, filter clean and some numbers. 'Pink to Purple' is soon good to go. We sling her in the van, back to Colorado Springs, pickup a supermarket dinner on the way and we have our heads down for some sleep shortly after 21h00. A non-stop day.

Prepping 'Pink to Purple'

South on the i25 back to Colorado Springs... price of gas: less than 40p per liter! And this was expensive...

PPIHC - Monday - Admin

2016-06-22T22:31:00.002+01:00

Rewind to Monday...

Up early again... getting the body used to rising early. At 08h30 we were at 'Tech' - 'skrootineering' in British speak. There I met the rest of the Ducati 'Squadra Alpina' - 4 top riders who share 20 PPIHC wins between them. Sponsored by Ducati they are the riders liasion guys and coaching us Rookies. A great new initiative.

It didn't take me long to damage the bike - I snapped the custom made screen off at the top while unloading :-(

Frankenstein repair job with some blood shed.

The bike and my kit sailed through Tech... by 09h00 we were done. Headed back to the cottage and got the wheels off the BRD - Travis took them up to his shop to fit some fresh Pirelli rubber.

Just the Tech stickers and we're done!

By 11h00 I was back at the Start line of the PPIHC course with the Squadra Alpina. We split into groups and my assigned coach, Carlin Dunne, took myself, Rob Barber (manx and TT rider form the UK - this year on an electric bike) and Bruno Marlin (Sidecar driver from France) for a giuded tour up the PPIHC course.

As with my tour with Travis the day before... there was a lot to learn. A lot of tips but mostly focussed around safety and which turns are likely to bite. I took a lot of notes. At the top we had a walk around... discussed more on the course and the same on the way back down. Feeling looked after as a Rookie in this unusual event.

Bruno Marlin and his monkey...

Kids on pogo sticks at 14 200 feet!

Back to to cottage and work on the bike a bit with Ant. Just final prep stuff and figuring out how the electronic suspension adjustments work. Pretty trick - one can adjust the pre-load, compression and rebound from buttons on the bars. No grovelling in the dirt with allen-keys... this is the future!

On the way up to the Park entrance...

Found a good beef jerky shop on the way into the Park. They got bison, venison and alligator jerky... and they're expensive. I'm glad to be in a jerky state!

We also switched the ABS off and backed off the traction control. I've never ridden with either rider aid... I don;t want to be going somewhere unfamilliar, but felt that with a fairly slick surface where everyone struggles for grip, a little bit of traction control for 150bhp is a good thing.

Man, it was hot... like 34 degrees in the shade. We work on the bike under a little car-port... sweated buckets.

Some crazy and cool cars... I love the Yanks!

At 17h00 we headed off to mandatory Drivers/Riders briefing at the Elegante hotel in Colorado Springs. An hour and forty-five minutes of briefings, instructions (mostly around safety) and questions. An engraved comemorative Henry repeater rifle was handed around for everyone to get thier finger-prints on it (these americans are crazy!). It'll go in the PPIHC museum. This year is the 100th anniversary of the event - and it's quite a big deal.

Something for the museum...

Meanwhile Travis had gotten back from Denver and fitted n lockwired the wheels with those sticky new Supercorsas. The Big Red Duck was good to go! An early night to be up super-early for optional practice on Tuesday.

PPIHC - Shit Happens

2016-06-22T03:11:00.000+01:00

End of the crank snapped right off!

Only 5 hours sleep in 40 hours... and we'll only get 6 hours tonight if were lucky... sorry no blog.
Ducati is outta action... but we have a plan....

PPIHC - Sunday - Up, up and up!

2016-06-21T03:54:00.002+01:00

Up early on Sunday... we're trying to keep on British time to help with the killer 2a.m. starts for the next week. We headed out to the Lone Duck to meet Travis and give the Big Red Duck a few runs up the mountain.

Travis took her up the course first and we followed in the van. Oh boy...

The on-board footage doesn't show the elevation. Average gradient: 7 degrees. This place is steep! It just goes up and up and up. The start line is at 9 390 feet. The course runs 12.42 miles to the summit of Pikes Peak - 14 115 feet!

The first third is through forest. Fast sequences of lefts and rights... some tight little turn to catch you out. The next third has the famous 'Double-yous'. A sequence of tight switchbacks... up, up and up above the treeline. The top third is desolate, wind-beaten and snow drifts - some fast flowing sections and turns that look like they are at the end of the world!

It is utterly spectacular. The views from the top are immense... hundreds of miles in all directions.

We crawl back down from the summit where the air is thin, the wind cold and the sun intense. There are park Rangers all over and the 25mph speed limit is enforced. I had Travis' bike in the back of the van and despite using 1st and 2nd gear, I still managed to cook the brakes only half-way down.

My turn next on the BRD I follow Travis up. He ponts out a few things along the way. It's frustrating going so slow and behind lines of cars. Some of the drivers are really stressing on the road. I just want to twist that throttle wide open and carve some lines up the mountain!

The BRD feels good. Plush and well mannered. Loads of torque and power... she pulls from low down and keeps shunting all the way through the revs. Even up at the top section with hardly any air to breathe, she is strong. It's impossible to tell what she'll be like at speed... but she felt comfy and everything was in then right place.

Back down and then Travis takes me up in the van and talks me throughn the whole course. Danger areas, corners that'll catch you, late apexes, straight-lines, off-camber, gravel on the course, ruts and bumps... and where to hold her flat-out. There is so much to take in.

By the time we get back down again, we need to head to the Rookies registration. We sign-on with no worries. It seems almost too easy - there is always something... nope... that's it. All signed-on. Cool!

We get back to Manitou Springs, prep the bike for tomorrow's tech inspection then find a pub and get some good steaks down our throats. It's been a long day. We're tired... windburned, sunburned. The magnificance of Pikes Peak also burned in out minds.

PPIHC - Hello Big Red Duck

2016-06-20T04:25:00.003+01:00

On Saturday Morning I met Ant, who had flown in the night before, at the airport. We got a taxi into Denver and picked up a U-Haul van just outside the Denver Broncos stadium. We then headed 15 minutes west to Newbold's Motorbike Shop.

Yup... we're in America...

World Champions?!

Travis has the most fantastic bike shop.Tons of trophies, race memorabilia, cool bike stuff... an alladin's cave for a bike racer. There is just so much to look at... so much character. If ever you're in Colorado, you just have to go visit Travis.

There was the Big Red Duck - she was everything I'd hoped for. She's big... red... and beautiful. I've never really been up-close to one of the newer Ducatis. Quality. Travis had done a lot of work on her... getting her on a diet, giving her a few more horsepower and a load of lockwiring/fastening. She was looking the part with vynil graphics from Travis' neighbor. That full titanium race system sounds real good too.

We caught up, talked bollocks about bikes, did a few wee adjustments to the BRD under fairy lights with some cool mellow music in the background. We got the stuff we need for the paddock together - paddock stands, tire warmers, toolbox, spares, fuel jug - and loaded it and the big girl into the van. 36 Degrees in the shade... it's warm... the water we left in the van was like tea... the granola bar was like hot porridge. Breakfast!

Down interstate 25 towards Colorado Springs to test the big girl on the mountain. An 'auto wreck' gave us 45 minutes bumper to bumper crawling. We stopped for fast food - I had a 'sandwich' in the 'handfoods' section of the menu - that turned out to be a massive, greasy chicken schnitzel on a burger bun. It made my stomach cramp for and hour.

Big trucks!

Plimpsole riding boots...

... a chop!

We had fun and games at the petrol station trying to pay for gas with a foreign credit card. In the end it took us 30 minutes to get 10 gallons of gas, 4 packets of beef jerky and a couple of coffees. The beef jerky cost more than the gas!

Down to Colorado Springs and onto the I24 West. Another auto wreck. Eventually we got to the Lone Duck Campground where we met Travis who had setup camp. We also met Johnny Gold and Lisa who spannered on the Ronin for Travis last year. It was too late for us to get into the park and go for a ride up the mountain. No worries, we were knackered anyway... we got some shopping done, food down our throat and an early night.

Pike Peak International Hillclimb

2016-06-18T16:18:00.001+01:00

I write this from 30,000 feet over Michigan en route to Dever, Colorado. Thank fuck I have been doing some running in the last few months as training for this adventure. I almost missed my flight in London yesterday evening... had to run a long way to the gate. Same thing happened this morning for my flight form Toronto... a 1km run to the plane to get there as they're closing the doors. Not the start I wanted... but... adds to the excitement I guess... and keeps me fit...

I'll get to Denver and meet Ant at the airport, we'll get a taxi downtown to pickup a u-haul van. Then head out to Newbold's Motorbike Shop to meet Travis and the Big Red Duck. If you haven't guessed by now - I'm going to do the Pikes Peak Hillclimb.

The prep for this little adventure started late last year. As with all my adventures, it started as a half-baked idea, not particularly well thought through. I had heard about this legendary event years back - on my first Manx Grand Prix campaign back in 2005. At the birth of YouTube I'd occasionally look it up and gawp at the on-board footage. Then a few years later I started racing Dirttrack and got to know of and then meet a Pikes Peak legend – Travis Newbold. The last few years I've been keenly following the event.

I'm a bad spectator – I see something... and I want to do it. I saw the online footage and some of the live streamed coverage... and I wanted to do it. Last year, I lived my TT dreams. As a competitor, I have now hung up my Isle of Man leathers - TT 2015 Lightweight will be my last race on the TT Mountain Course.

The end of an epic quest - going up the return road after the Lightweight TT race... I had tears in my eyes...

Racing on the Isle of Man is a massive undertaking and with no IOM campaign in 2016 I have space to do something else, Pike Peak International Hillclimb was on top of the list. Besides, I had the perfect bike for it, my TT Triumph Daytona 675 was the weapon of choice. Torque, power, setup – she was built for the roads.

Come January, time to get my entry in. I then discover that the entries have been limited to only 33 for motorcycles and that only bikes with OEM flat handlebars are eligible to compete. I had 4 race bikes in my garage... all tools for the job... but none had OEM flat handlebars. Retro-fitting was not allowed. Bollocks!

Ok... no problem. I have a bike that with a bit of prep would be eligible. My old Ducati Monster. She was a bit old and certainly no race machine... but the basics were there. In the nick of time I got my many-page entry in,selling why I should be one of the 33 on my old Italian machine.

Spring training on the old Monster in the mountain passes around home in Austria

It worked... they accepted my entry and sent me an 'Invitation to Compete'. Whooohooo! We were in!

By then, I had a chance to look at it in more detail. The number to prep my Monster started to run into the thousands. As I learned with my Classic TT Ducati 888: that's Ducatis for you. Even after many wads of cashola, she would still be a comparatively low-power, low-spec machine in my class. I also got some quotes to ship her to the US and back. Getting her out wasn't so bad... but getting her back is where they sting you. I started looking at other options. I gave Travis a call.

Travis is a local Colorado Pikes Peak legend. He's been competing at the event for many years, from when half of the course was dirt. Over time they have paved (tarred) all of the course... since 2011 it is paved all the way. Travis has many podium finishes and even a class record on bikes that he puts together with very little budget in his workshop. The man is a talented rider with many other wins and championships in enduros, desert racing, dirttracking and just about anything on two wheels. He certainly knows his way around Pikes Peak and can build a bike!

Travis #747 Braaap!

On his way to another podium in 2014.

I'd also been in touch with a Brit PPIHC competitor from last year – Neal Catling. I actually raced against Neal in years past in the Ducati Desmo Due series. The first thing Neal told me about PPIHC was that the organisation/race admin was very amateur – crap at best. Neal didn't have a good time of it – problems with his Ducati 848 eventually ending in the gearbox munching itself a mile in from the start. Neal gave me some good tips and advice... and confirmed the horrendous cost of getting a bike from the UK to Colorado and back. My Monster was at home in Austria... add another 1000 and a whole lotta ball-ache to the bill!

Travis had a fantastic PPIHC in 2015 riding a bike that he hadn't built himself for the first time. He piloted the brutally beautiful Ronin to 2^nd place in the Heavyweight class. A brilliant result on an unconventional, undeveloped bike built by a few enthusiasts against a factory Honda team. Travis made a few comments on the crap organisation of the event and some prick of a reporter made it all very public. As a result, the PPIHC organisers have banned Travis form competing in 2016 - it's a bit pathetic really.

Travis on the Ronin...

Spectacular!

Anyway... I asked Travis if he'd be up for building a bike for me for this year's event. “Hell, yeah!” was his response. He was totally up for it! He'd got me in touch with Bryan and the guys at Imperial Sportbikes in Denver - they were on-board too! Within a week they had and found a bike for me. My first choice was a late model Aprilia Tuono V4 – a good-looking, Italian-machismo, sportsbike-killing, flat-barred weapon. But, they're quite rare in the US... especially around Colorado. However, Bryan did find me a 2012 Ducati Multistrada 1200s. Only 4 bikes have ever gone sub 10 minutes for the Hillclimb... 3 of those are Multistrada 1200s. We couldn't be too far wrong.

I set about getting my entry changed. Unfortunately... change of bike meant a complete new entry... and a nice little fee on that too. I got all the paperwork done again and paid my monies. Relieved when they accepted my entry a few days later. We were go!

I bought the bike based on Bryan's description and a few pics and set about planning the build and prep. Bryan had been brilliant and helped out with all the parts. Just remove the road gear, an exhaust, fuelling unit (to get her running sweet at altitude), bars n grips, chain n sprockets, new brake-pads, I got some foot-peg risers in my luggage, some new tyres and that's it. She's only got to do a few practice sessions and then the 12 mile run from the bottom of Pikes Peak to the top – once. No TT Mountain Course bullet-proof prep for her.

Travis picks up the big girl...

A few weeks later all the bits arrived, Travis picked her up and started pulling things off her to lean her up. She was a bit overweight - that standard exhaust was a mahoosive lump of under-performance. The full Titanium exhaust liberates power and adds lightness. Nice! Travis has been building her around his customer bike commitments at his busiest time of the year. A few days ago Travis had her back with Bryan on the dyno to get her fuelled for the altitude. We're running an Autotune unit as well to help adjust the fuelling as we climb nearly 5000 feet in around 11 minutes.

A big can!

Trining some weight...

Braaap! Braaap!

It's been kinda weird... a bit surreal. Not having a bike in my garage and spending endless late nights and weekends building and prepping. Is this what being a factory racer feels like? In a few hours I'll be able to touch and sit on the Big Red Duck – it will be real. Oh boy... I can't wait!

Time, time... time.

2016-06-15T21:26:00.000+01:00

Been looking back over the last year. Previously, my whole calendar (and world) ran from one Isle of Man campaign to another. A year ago I was back from the epic TT adventure. 9 campaigns to the Isle and I had got away with it :-)

I was shattered. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I started a new and challenging contract at work... the first six weeks I was like a zombie. Tired, tired, tired. It took me till my first ever summer holiday with my wife in September to recover.

I used to average around 15 posts per month on this here blog. In the last year I've managed 12. Been thinking why.

Time. My new work contract is challenging... and I'm spending a large amount of time on it (still got TT debts to pay off...) as well as commuting. I haven't done any racing since a bit of Dirttrack at the end of last summer (which I didn't blog).

I've also been focussing on non-biking activities, like moving to and settling in Austria, learning German and working on our little wooden home in the hills.

I've struggled to find time for blogging. It's been somewhere down the priority in the perpetual 'tings to do' list. Time.

But... I've had a wee bike racing project simmering away. Oh yes, you couldn't keep me away for long...

This time it's a very different approach for me: Outsource. Something different: flat bars. A new adventure in a foreign land. I've dropped a few clues in the last posts... and here's another...

I'll tell the story in the next few days. Things are about to get exciting in this little world of Speed Therapy 

Isle of Man TT 2016

2016-06-12T14:17:00.001+01:00

The Isle of Man TT 2016 has come... and gone. I wasn't there... but looks like the weather was fantastic. This meant leads of practice time... which means more time to get bike setup right... which means fast laptimes. Records tumbled as Hutchinson and Dunlop showed the way. They were in a different league.

See his inspirational story in Hutchy - Miracle Man

Dunlop set a new outright lap record: 133.962mph

Fantastic laptimes and results for Dominic Herbertson and few of my other mates out there. 18th in the Senior and 125mph on a superstock bike built in his shed and that was almost destroyed by fire in the beginning of the season - on fire Dom the Bomb!

Dom is knocking of the door of the big boys now!

Bloody well done to Simon Gilbert competing in the Sidecars at his first TT. Two solid finishes in a race of attrition. Oh so close to getting your 100mph lap - it's yours next year!

Simon Gilbert in the Slideys

Unfortunately, it wasn't a good year for fatalities. Rest in peace and godspeed...

Dwight Beare

Paul Shoesmith

Ian Bell

Andrew Soar

...as you guys shuffle from this mortal coil... keep those cables stretched and GO FAST!

The Isle of Man TT - it's the greatest show on earth!

Technically Challenged

2016-05-19T21:41:00.003+01:00

Shit! Just saw my last post and I didn't manage to get the vid embedded. It's there now... check it out! Yessir Travis... I'm sure gettin excited now :-)

The Shame

2016-05-13T15:22:00.004+01:00

Hi Folks

With a total of 2 posts in the last 6 months, I've been shite. I hang my head in shame and apologise to all the followers who are still following... all 13 of you. Thank you for still following... intentionally or unintentionally. :-(
Some exciting bikey things have been happening and I'll try give a chronological update soon. I'll backdate the posts so that when I'm old n grey(er) and look back on them, it won't confuse the crap out of my already confused brain.

For those not following Sideblog or Travis 747, here's an awesome vid as a primer. I'm just sayin'...

PPIHC

2016-02-07T16:45:00.002+00:00

Just sayin...

I Killed the Chevy

2015-11-20T19:27:00.000+00:00

Before we set-off for the TT in May, the Chev-Dawg was loaded to the ceiling and had two race bikes strapped down on the trailer. I stroked her dash and said “Just one more trip baby. Get us there and back.” She did just that. But a few weeks after returning from the TT, she started giving problems. I spent many a weekend working on her… but it was just one thing after another. It was as if she was giving up.

Chev-Dawg's introduction to motosickle racing: Darley Moor 2007

She broke down twice on me and left me stranded – I got recovered at great inconvenience. I spent many hours working on her and had spent quite a bit of moolah in parts. She had an upcoming MOT (road worthy test) and I knew it would come with a big bill as the front steering bits were worn-out. I thought I had got all her problems (except the front steering…) sorted. I drove her around for a few weeks until one night, I was just outside Heathrow on the way home when the oil pressure gauge drops to zero.

Working on cars... you've got to lye in the dirt... at funny angles... siezed bolts are the norm and they're dirty bastards.

I fuckin' HATEworking on cars.

I pull over. I could smell oil. I pop the hood. In the darkness, I could see the right side of the engine gleaming with oil. Fuck. A major leak somewhere. I had a look around and weighed up my options. 1) Spend the next 6 hours getting recovered and have an oil-dripping mess on my driveway for me to fix. 2) Have her recovered to a garage that can fix her and hand me a big bill. 3) try get her home and straight onto eBay.

Overloaded, she got us, the bikes and a shit-load of gear to the Isle of Man and back for 7 campaigns. This was 2012

If she didn’t make it home, I was no worse off than now. Still had to be recovered. I was pretty pissed-off with her - on her previous break-down I vowed it would be the last time she left me stranded. So, I started her up and pointed her north for the 70 mile trip home and gave her beans!

ManxGP & Classic TT 2013. Two bikes on the trailer...

...and a Ducati 888 stuffed in the back!

10 miles into the trip the engine started knocking… I just put my foot down to try make the 60 miles for home go quicker. Surprisingly, she kept on going… 10 miles, 20 miles, 30 miles. She was going down with a fight.

14 miles from home and the engine knocking get louder and louder. Then 'Clunk'... I freewheel her onto the M1 hard-shoulder.

I’ve killed the Chevy.

ManxGP and Classic TT 2014

I go through the whole farcical process of getting recovered for the third time: A tow guy arrives in an hour to get me off the motorway. It’s considered a dangerous place so they are twice as quick as normal… still takes an hour though. He drags me to the nearest service station… who haven’t done a car service in more than 20 years… they only offer shit food and gas. At least the coffee is good. Another wait for the mobile service guy to arrive… have a poke around and tell me it’s fucked. No shit Dood. Another wait for a flat-bed truck to take me and the Chevy carcass the remaining 10 miles home.

TT 2015 - the Boerewors Bros Epic TT Adventure!

This whole process take 6 hours and after laying some planks and old sheets under the dripping Dawg I’m in bed at 04h00. Up again at 06h00 to hitch a lift with my neighbour to the station to get to work. Yay. It takes me the week to recover the lack of sleep.

The next weekend I take all my crap out of her… take some pics and she’s on a 5 day eBay auction. A week later a guy with a flat-bed arrives to take her away.

Dirttrackin' too. Transport...

...pits, accomodation, storage... she did it all!

I have fond memories and she was solid n good… till near the end. She had a number of niggles… 20 years driving and 170 000 miles does that. She’d done a lot of hard work hauling bikes and gear around the country’s race tracks. Some may say abused – I say worked. I loved the old girl and she’d served well but I’d just lost the appetite to keep her going. She was just getting old and I was tired of being let down. Reliability is key... without reliability... you have nothing.

I'm sorry it had to end this way...

I took the advice I have been given over the last few years by friends and family and it was time to move on.

Goodbye Chev-Dawg – you’re the best damn car I’ve ever had.

The 4.3l Vortec V6 was a gem... 200bhp she could haul anything all day long.

Chevy Astro tintop - knackered engine... one careful owner... a snip at fourhundredbucks.

Kiva!

2015-11-04T21:22:00.000+00:00

I’ve been meaning to do this post for a few months now…

Part of getting to and competing in the TT earlier this year was the Indiegogofundraising campaign. 50% of all donations that weren’t for tyres, caps or tee-shirts was given to help others in need of financial assistance through the Kiva micro-lending site. The campaign raised £340 whichworked out to $450 in loans. This is where the loans went:

Armando (Mozambique) – helped fund a chainsaw (we like chainsaws :-) for his woodworking business

Aurora (Mozambique) – helped fund materials and labor to build a home for her family

Caesar (Zambia) – to help grow his money transfer business and provide employment

The Kiva micro-lending system is not perfect. But I believe it helps people that are less well off than most of us and that are normally excluded from financial systems work their way out of poverty, be able to provide for their families and add value to their communities. Hand-outs through charity is a short-term solution and does little to help the millions of people around the world break out of the cycle of poverty. You also have very little idea of where your money goes with these big organizations.

These micro loans help the disadvantaged help themselves. Sign-up and you can lend as little as $25. All the loan repayments from Armando, Aurora and Caesar will be continuously re-lent to help others – so your donations will keep giving

Thank you for your generosity :-)

Go Fast!

2015-10-21T22:24:00.000+01:00

Over the years racing, I have got many “Be careful”s before swinging my leg over a bike and heading out onto a track. Being careful goes without saying on a race track. The primary objective is to NOT get it wrong, to NOT fall off and NOT get hurt. Especially around one of the most unforgiving tracks in the world - the TT Mountain Course. Although I have a strong sense of self preservation, I am out there on track to push to the limit. To the limits of the machine and to my own limits. This is what the competition brings out. This is why we race. It’s quite a personal thing.

TT Legend - Dave Jefferies

As a result, I will always give encouragement and say to fellow competitors before a race “ Have a good one”… and if I wasn’t out there with them on track I’d normally add: “Go fast!”. This is what we are trying to do out there… have a good one and go fast.

TT Legend: Joey Dunlop

Robery Dunlop

During my nine campaigns on the Isle of Man since 2005, losing fellow competitors and race buddies to the TT Mountain Course is a reality. We, as riders, all know the dangers. We’ve all been affected by the loss of fellow competitors and friends. I had often thought; What if I encouraged a mate to “Go Fast” and then they landed up going flat out on the big race track in the sky?

Simon Andrews

Martin Finnegan

Richard Britton

As per my last post, David Taylor, an Isle of Man race buddy of mine was killed in September while competing in the Manx Grand Prix. David was a seasoned veteran of the TT Mountain Course, having competed since 1996. Due to other commitments, David wasn’t at the Manx in 2013 and 2014 but was back this year to ride the most incredible race track on the planet.

Together with other friends competing at this year’s Classic TT/Manx GP, I followed David’s progress through his online FB updates and timesheets every night of practice. He was struggling for his usual pace in the beginning of practice week through the trying conditions that all competitors on the Isle going through. Maybe he was a bit rusty after two years away. But... by the final practice he was a lot faster and getting to where he wanted to be.

On the Thursday night before the Senior race, he posted this on FaceBook:

“All prepped and ready for tomorrows Senior Manx GP. Weather forecast looks OK so fingers crossed for a good run - let the madness commence :-)”.

I hit the ‘like’ button and replied: “Have a good one Dood... GO FAST!!!”. On Friday morning before the race, David hit the ‘like’ button on my comment.

A few hours later, David crashed out of the Manx Grand Prix Senior race on the last lap at Brandywell up on the Mountain section. On Saturday evening, David passed away from his injuries.

Race face...

David sets off on his last race

David going fast!

Now it’s happened. I’ve had time to reflect.

David was out there doing what he loved. I believe that I helped in a tiny way to add to the courage needed to take on the most fearsome, dangerous and awesome race track in the world. He was going to do it anyway. When I am encouraged, I feel stronger and as a result am more confident and focussed… less likely to hesitate and make a costly error. I can only assume it is the same for everyone.

I feel fine about it.

So, to my good buddy David, and all who are out there challenging themselves and taking it to the limit on the race tracks of the world... and above: Have a good one… and Go Fast!.

"Have a good one Dood... GO FAST!!!"

RIP David Taylor

2015-10-04T12:09:00.001+01:00

Nearly a month ago, I got the sad news that David Taylor had passed away from injuries sustained after he came off at Brandywell in the last lap of the Manx Grand Prix Senior race on Friday 4^th September.

I had got to know David over the years competing at the Manx and on more than one occasion we were parked next to each other during the wait for the ferry across and had a good catch-up. We were similar in many ways… both worked in technology, struggled sometimes to fit our racing in around our work travel commitments, both on tight budgets and trying to get the most out of older/stock machines... I think we we just about the only two who didn;t have a van to fit the bikes in and trailered the bikes to and from the IOM. Most importantly, we shared a love for going as fast as we could on the TT Mountain Course.

Ferry crossings, paddock banter and assembly area chats - I knew David more than all the riders that I have known over the years that have lost their lives on the TT Mountain Course.

David was out there doing what he loved… stretching those cables around the most challenging race track in the world. Rest in Peace David