BOOM!!!

To say this has been a rough start to the 2013 race season is an incredible understatement. Round 1 was a total mess and round 2 was only worse.

Going into this round, I had a ton of things going on in my personal life which deterred my focus from the race weekend. I am starting a new job, and as a result of the interview process prior, I couldn't find time to get a trackday at Sonoma. I am getting married this summer, and the wedding planning is taking some time and focus. I am preparing for taking my GMAT test in June, which is a critical and rigorous test. In addition to all of this, my Grandfather became deathly ill just before the race weekend. Because of these things I hadn't even thought about the Sonoma round until Friday night when we showed at the hotel. I told myself after my poor performance at Buttonwillow that I would be prepared for Sonoma. Clearly, I was wrong.

Saturday

The first lap of the day I felt "cold" going out for practice. I had a new brake compound I was testing from my new sponsor, EBC Brakes, and wanted to give myself enough time in the first session to get a feel for them. (The GPFA compound is amazing by the way - tons of bite and linear feel)

Coming out of the sixth turn on the first lap, the bike right in front of me lets off a huge plume of smoke as it dumps oil all over the track in front of me and on the front of my bike. I immediately back off, knowing this won't end well. As #100, Ryder Morrison, tips into turn seven at the end of the back straight, his oil-laden bike slams to the ground and lights on fire. Only a half lap into the day, and I already have oil on me and have had to return to pits from an incident.

After about 10-15 minutes, race direction allows us to return to the track now that the oil has been cleaned. It doesn't take long before the exit of turn six decides to strike again. As I open the throttle entering the back straight section, my engine exclaims in protest, " Boom, ratta tat tat!". Only one lap into my restarted first practice session, and my weekend looks to have ended.

I get the bike back to the pits and begin the tear down. I already can tell that one cylinder is not operating correctly for one reason or another. I remove the airbox, fire up the engine, and place my hand over the throttle bodies. As I turn the throttle I feel each intake duct suck my hand into the chamber, until I get to the forth and final cylinder. A twist of the throttle results in my hand being forcefully shoved away from the engine and sprayed with a fine mist of fuel. I know then that I am screwed. I pull the spark plug for good measure and note that the lateral electrode has been pressed against the central electrode and a large strike mark has been placed across the face of the plug. It was obvious a valve broke and the piston slammed the valve against the spark plug.

Results of the BOOM

My focus shifted from being competitive and scoring a lot of points at my best rack, to simply getting points and going home. After a few hours, I am able to arrange to drive out to Pacheco, CA and pick up an engine from BRG racing's shop which #115 Berto Wooldridge donated to me. I have found an engine, now I just need to do a full motor swap and make it to my practice in time to jog around the track... this is going to be a long night.



90% of my race weekend... playing mechanic

By the time 10:30 pm rolled around I had already swapped motors and was close to finishing the bike, in theory. I was so stressed and worn of the way this weekend started in addition to everything else going on, I swear I was on the verge of throwing my tools in the air and start crying like a teenage girl. Jobs that should take no time at all are taking an excessive amount of time due to the smallest little things. My brand new, fresh out of the box, drive chain had a few link pins which were not set correctly. As I sit in the dark trying to get these little tiny pins to sit exactly where they belong using a tool which requires an annoyingly tedious process to operate, I give up on being able to make practice in the morning and go back to the hotel. I simply couldn't handle it anymore.

Sunday

I arrive at the track with a different disposition. Despite waking up every 20 minutes during the night, I feel more rested and relaxed. I know my timeline to finish in order to make my races, I have come to terms with missing practice, and I now can work in daylight.

After the engine is installed and buttoned up, it fought me to get started but I got it going. It idled high and I figured it just needed to warm its old bones; it hadn't been started in many years and was a little rusty. But after a few minutes of a 4500 rpm idle, I knew I was in trouble. I had very little time left to get this working. After an inspection of vacuum hoses and intake boots, I wandered over to the BRG trailer and harassed KC for some advice. He suggested I swap the throttle bodies with the ones from the other engine, as the "new" ones are probably needing to be synced.

I ran back to my pit area and with the gracious help of former AFMer Conan Dooley and begin to tear in to the motor. My race is next and I have precious little time. Then, it happens. The sky opens up and suddenly hits us with a downpour. We quickly put up the canopy to cover us while we work. Will the races be cancelled? Will all this work be for not? Did Mr. Murphy really wait until I finished this huge job to rain out the weekend?

About 10 minutes before my first race, the rain let up and the grounds began to dry just as we were able to button up the bike, fire the engine, and watch it idle as it should. Wow! Did we really just: find a motor; drive to get the motor; do a swap in the darkness of Saturday night with only hand tools; and get it running Sunday morning just in time to make the race? Yes!

Formula 1

The call for the race came just after getting the bike back together and I had to rush to make the warm up lap. This was my first chance to check the engine and get a feel for the brakes and suspension at speed. We were unable to get any chance to set the suspension for Sonoma. Catalyst Reaction revalved the suspension over the winter, and as mentioned earlier I was unable to get any trackdays during the off-season. This left me with no basis for a setting. Dave Moss helped me get a base setting, but without being able to go run a few laps it certainly wasn't was it should be.

Finding the balance of going hard during the warm up lap to get a feel for things at speed and go slow so as to figure out if there are any critical issues is a tough balance. I almost lost the fight of that needed balance on the warm up lap when I went into the carousel. I entered at a moderate speed and began my braking as I would normally.Then next thing I knew I was in a full slapper, butt off the seat, and heading right for the mountain side at speed. I was able to wrestle the bike back with only inches to spare before ruining all my nights work in my first 30 seconds on the track.

As I approached the final turn during the warm-up lap, I realized that in all the rush and panic to make the race, we forgot to get my grid position. So when I rolled onto the grid, I pulled into the last position. Turns out this may have been the best decision of the weekend.

The green flag drops and I try to wrangle a rough running engine and a clutch for which I have not practiced starts. This clutch felt way different than my last engine. The reach was far and lacked any feedback. Considering this, I got an ok start. Despite the fact that my heart said "GO!!", my brain reminded me to GO easy and concentrate on getting points. Just as I crest turn two, I see #116 Keith Stie crash and slide in front of traffic where a collective of bikes come together. I saw one bike drive over Stie and catapult into the air. I am glad I wasn't caught in that, because I later came to find that my grid position was supposed to be on the second row just next to Stie. The race immediately went red and we were to return to the pits.

---Restart---

For the restart, I was able to start on my proper position on the grid. Now all I needed was to get a good launch and get in people's way. But when the race started, my clutch slipped like crazy and I lost any advantage I had. I ended up in the back of the grid in the blink of an eye.

I battled in that race, but it wasn't with other people. I had to battle with a incomplete suspension set-up which chattered the front like crazy during trailbraking. I had to battle with a motor filled with flat spots that made acceleration out of a turn feel like the mechanical bull at the Saddle Rack. It was an exhausting 8 laps, but I made sure to simply finish and learn the bike.

I ran 10 seconds behind my normal lap times but was still able to pull a 15th place finish out of 24 racers. I met my goals of making points toward the championship, but I was still frustrated at not being able to "race". In the end, I think it was the right decision to reduce the crash risk given the circumstances; not just for me, but for the safety of others on the track.

600 Superbike

Between the F1 and 600SB race, I was able to adjust my clutch somewhat to compensate for the old and burned plates in this engine. I was also able to make some adjustments to the suspension. But most importantly ( and most effectively ) I was able to think about how the bike was behaving and figure out how to ride given the situation.

My start was better, but this class is filled with amazing riders and I found myself being passed coming out of 2 like an old lady on the freeway going 45mph. I kept focused on the goal and my own riding, I had to keep telling myself that these "races" are actually practice sessions for me at this point.

In the end, I was able to pull my times down to only 7 seconds behind my normal times. It was better, but the bike was still rough to ride. I finished 25th out of 31 but most importantly, I scored points.

750 Superbike

A few more tweaks after the 600SB race and the bike was feeling better in regards to suspension and clutch. However, the engine was still mad at me from waking it from the long slumber on the shop floor. Every time I tried to open the throttle, it felt as though I was riding a BMX with someone jabbing a stick in the wheel spokes.

I did what I could after a fair start to get in the way and block for what positions I can salvage. I decided that if I was passed, I would not make any deep braking maneuvers or switchback passes in turn 9. I simply didn't feel confident in the bike nor myself.

I found myself running a quicker pace this race and getting less beat up form the bike. As soon as the fast boys passed me, I was seeing my girlfriend signaling me on the wall every lap that someone was on my ass. I went into block line mode and took tight lines and mid-track entries. About two laps to the end I begin seeing a wheel poke underneath me trying to get around. There was a few times where I thought for sure we were going to come together.

On the final lap I came out of the last turn and the motor began to sputter on me. I had to back off the throttle a little to maintain stability and be able to smoothly roll back on. I thought I was good to the finish line, but at the last moment I see a front wheel extend just past my left side and beat me to the line... Damn!

In the 750 race I was able to get even closer times to normal, this time only 4 seconds off pace. I ended up taking 15th place out of 24, just behind 4-time AMA champion and wild-card World Superbike rider, Eric Bostrom

I want to give a special thanks to those who made it possible for me to salvage this weekend:

Conan Dooley - Thank you for your help getting the final bit of the engine together just in time to make the race. I know I wouldn't have made in time without your help

Jovan Betton - Thank you for your helping hand dropping the motor on Saturday night. Pulling out that engine by myself would have probably caused me to break something... likely me.

Dave Wallis - I am thankful that you loaned me the special tool I needed to release the special spanner nuts holding in the engine. I have pulled a motor without it before, and it is a formula for disaster.

KC and Donna Gager - Thanks for your help in getting an engine to me and your sage advice with solving the idle issue

Berto Wooldridge - Couldn't have raced this round and may have been out for the season without your engine donation, thank you.

Dave Moss - It is hard to get a suspension setting with only two partial laps ran on the bike, but your ability kept me upright and alive.

Ed Guimaraes and Xs Jet - Your support this season made it possible to race. I wouldn't be able to have bad weekends with long stories of an engine replacement without the support; thank you!

Already!?

The word "already" can mean a lot of things. It could mean as it originally derived, "all ready", meaning one is completely prepared.

Already can also convey shock: "It is race season already?"

It can be used to describe the relation between action and time: "We have already searched this area for the key to the race bike"

Another common usage is to imply disgust: "Enough already!"


This race weekend, "already" seemed to be the theme for me. I knew it to be the case pretty early in the morning on Saturday after I had an engine problem on the very first lap of practice. I came into the pits, took off the gas tank and tore into the engine. After about five minutes, my long-time rival Kyle Schirrmacher rolled up on a scooter and shockingly questioned, "Already!?"; with that one word, Kyle said a lot. All I could do was look up from the bowels of the bike, smile, and say "yup". I threw some band-aids on the engine to get through the weekend, but it wasn't running perfect to say the least.

By the time the second practice came around, I was able to throw on my leathers and finally get some track time. Everyone else came to Buttonwillow prior to the race weekend and got some practice time. I, however, haven't put a leg over the race bike since the last race of 2012. I hadn't even been riding my street bike for the last 8 months, and my lap times proved it.

I have only been to Buttonwillow twice, the last of which was two years ago during a slightly damp race weekend with a new (to me) race bike. Since then, I have gotten faster on the bike on other tracks and expected to be a little faster at Buttonwillow. But as mentioned earlier, I haven't ridden in a while and I was stuck running times 10 seconds slower than my previous lap times. I've only been at Buttonwillow for a few hours and I am already pissed at myself.


SUNDAY

The alarm clock blares as is ask myself, "6am already?". The guy next door in the hotel had been snoring so loudly all night that he kept my girlfriend awake, which in turn kept me awake. I was already riding like crap this weekend and didn't need to try and race with only 3 hours of sleep in total.

Formula 1

I had to start the F1 race from the second to last position on the grid. I saw the practice times of everyone else and decided my objective for the race was to: 1) get a good start, there is no one behind me to worry about; 2) stay upright and don't crash, what I need is point sin this class not a huge repair bill; 3) pick up the pace and get down to at least my old lap times.

When the green flag waved, I got a fairly good start, making some passes in the process. The only fellow back-row starter to get by me was #54 Robin Geenen. He muscled by me on the outside about half-way to turn one, blinding me with his bright neon orange bike. I knew I had to get my as many people as possible in the beginning and get in their way if I had any chance of holding them back on this fast and high-horsepower track.

I got on the brakes a little bit later and a little bit softer than those around me and was able to get by Robin, #696 Peter Kemling, and #116 Keith Stie putting me in 7th place. I tucked in behind my old friend, #131 Bruce 'slippy' Bleeker exiting turn one and planned on letting him pull me through turn 2. But Bruce went into turn much slower than I had expected and I had to sit up a touch and move outside to avoid hitting his rear tire at the apex. This opened up the door for Peter Kemling to squeeze in underneath me with #175 Neil Atterbury in tow.

I found myself in  9th place going into the power section of the track. This is where #172 David Glenn and #54 Robin Geenen flew by me. #111 Oscar Fernandez passed me on the outside during the hairpin (which isn't that surprising considering I suffered with that turn all weekend). As we head down the long front straight, I watch the power of the other bikes walk away from me. In one lap I went from a good start, to being relegated to 12th position.

The field quickly thinned out and I began focused on myself. I really needed to work on my markers and timing. At this point, I just wanted to improve, stay upright,  and let attrition take care of the final placement of riders. Every time I came by another crashed bike, I reminded myself "he got no points, you need points".

Lap after lap, I received signals from my girlfriend at the pit-wall that someone was on my ass. I was battling #50 Tom Wilbert each lap, surprised he hadn't yet powered by me in the numerous open sections. Then on the forth lap, I come out of the final turn, throttle down the straight, click up once and look over at the wall. My girlfriend, Georgia, is viciously signalling that Tom is right with me. I go to upshift again only to miss the lever and have to re-reach with my foot. This error was small, but the fraction of a second gave Wilbert just enough of a difference in our drives to get by me on the inside just before turn 1.

I begin to chase down Wilbert, evaluating where I can get by. I am quicker mid-corner and on the brakes, I just have to get by and stay in his way. Then it happens. My arm begins to cramp up and I have no real feel from my brake lever or throttle. I am controlling the bike like a light switch at this point, all on or all off. I then think to myself, "It's only the 5th lap of the first race; arm pump already?"

When it was all said and done, I was able to work down to my old time from a few years ago, 2:01.1, and finish in 11th place. Not great, but not too bad for this bump-laden track.




600 Superbike

By the time the 600 race came around, the sky has darkened and there was an occasional raindrop here and there. The wind kicked in and was throwing people around on the track. Many people had been crashing as a result, including many red flags. Before heading out to the race, Georgia reminded me to focus on finishing and getting points; don't push it and crash out.

I started in 24th place (dead last) for the 600 race and was again able to make quite a few moves when the green flag dropped. I passed some people on the gas and a few more on the brakes. Going into turn 2, I was again greeted by the front wheel on Peter Kemling's Kawasaki on my inside at the apex. I pulled in behind him and tried to keep pace, but he was simply quicker than I.

As we came out of the high-speed banking of Riverside, I see a huge plume of dust coming over the track. Two riders had come together in a violent collision, scattering debris all over the track. I pulled in behind the group ahead and for the remainder of the race ran pace with a small cluster of racers. I worked my way down to a 2:00 before yet again having arm pump problems. On the last lap, I was far enough ahead of the rider behind me, that I backed off the pack ahead and simply maintained my position. I had no reason to try and make a pass on the pack in front of me when I could barely squeeze the brake lever any longer; it would be irresponsible to try and make a pass like that. I stayed upright and went home in 16th position.





750 Superbike

I was praying for rain at this point in the day. My arm hurt really bad, the wind was blowing over canopies in the paddock, and I just wanted to go home. I raced simply to get points.

I again was starting in last place for this race and again found myself behind Mr. Kemling exiting turn 2. Except this time he was decisively ahead of me. This race was fairly boring; I ran my slowest race laps of the weekend overall and my slowest best time of the three races. My off-season training was garbage this year, and it showed.

I finished in 11th place with a best of 2:01.9.





Next, we go to Sonoma; a track where I love to race. I have two months to get my act together and I am already training.

Until then...


I give my thanks:

I didn't think I would be able to race this year. Between money needed for schooling, time needed for studies, planning time and money needed for the upcoming wedding, and one hundred other things, I thought there was no way I could race this year. I was very fortunate this year to have a few people step up and help me out, these people are the ones who made this happen this year.

Xs Jet and Ed Guimaraes came aboard as the title sponsor this year and really made this season possible as a whole. Expect to see and hear a lot from this company in the coming months. Hopefully we can get Ed and his team to stop by and hang out in the pits one day to get a feel for what racing is truly all about. Thanks again.

All the micro-sponsors who helped get me a canopy this year after the frame on my last one snapped in two. Your donations went along way, thank you.

Viets performance and Bridgestone tires have worked with me to get me out on the track with great tires that not only last, but give superior traction along with great feel and feedback.

Dave Moss Tuning has been the genius behind getting black-magic art of suspension dialed on my bike. This weekend showed Dave's amazing ability. Even though I was running 10 seconds slower than normal in practice, he was able to get the bike perfectly set up for race pace - my tires still have another weekend in them.

Catalyst Reaction saved me this year. In my off-season slovenly behavior, I failed to do any servicing to my forks or shock. Catalyst Reaction stepped up, revalved and serviced my suspension components in time for me to be able to make this race. The turn around time is amazing.