3 Inches

3 inches...

No, it is not the start of a bad joke involving male genitalia, it is the small piece of real estate which altered my fate for the race weekend at Sonoma and ultimately the 2012 championship.

Going into this weekend I was 2nd in two championships and 3rd in two others, with a close points battle to my nearest nemeses in each class. Sonoma is by far my best opportunity to win races and score points. Being that we only visit Sonoma twice this year, it is critical I maximize points in all races to keep in the points chase. Our last visit to Sonoma resulted in some fun battles and significant points for me, meaning all I had to do was do it all over again.

I spent the week prior to the race analyzing all the mathematical statistics to the possible outcomes based on many variables. However, I failed to calculate for a few factors; personal deviations, other racers being faster than the last visit, and the three inches of space just outside the curbing on the exit of turn four.


Saturday

Saturday practice went well, I was running 1:48s without really trying. I went out to each session working on specific goals and managed to run laps within a second of my best time while just having fun and feeling like I was at a trackday rather than a race weekend. After looking at the times of my opponents on the time sheets, I felt pretty f'in good going into the middleweight race.


Middleweight (No on-board video, forgot to turn on camera)

Starting 2nd on the grid, I got an average start off the line. Stephen Rue, #889, got his typical awesome start and passed by me before even getting to the first turn. Going into turn one I saw the front wheel of Ramsey Junaid, #861, poke into the apex at the wall. I didn't want to try and squeeze down on Ramsey, but I certainly didn't want him to make a run up the hill and get in front of me. I made a quick decision to keep the throttle open and take the wide line through the turn.

I carry a lot of speed from this line and try to get beside Rue before getting to turn two so I can have a control position through the turn and being able to carry that inside advantage all the way to turn four, if needed, to secure second place. At the last possible minute I back off and fall in behind Rue, he simply wasn't entering wide enough for me to go safely underneath. I presume he was trying to do the same maneuver to Kyle Schirrmacher, #780, which is why he kept his line tight and deep on the brakes.



Going into the carousel, I see Rue make a move around Kyle and smile a little because of the thought that I can use these two battling to my advantage within the next few laps. I kept swinging at Kyle like Rocky taking on Apollo Creed in the 15th. Moves inside and out, every opportunity ended sharply with me having to close the throttle, making a mistake, or being out ran leaving the turn. The next few laps the three of us are flying around the track at record speed, dragging me into a race where I was running 1:46s and only in third. Kyle got back around Rue and I was now trying to get around someone I hadn't spent a lot of time chasing around Sonoma. Then it happened...

By the sixth lap of running faster than normal times, I was chewing up my rear tire due to my suspension being set for my normal fast times of a second slower. I decided after nearly high-siding twice in the sixth lap to back it down a little and take third place. I was far enough ahead of Rue in the championship points to be able to afford taking third to his second (Rue actually went on to win the race). I was also far enough ahead of forth place so I could back it down for two laps and take a podium finish.

Typically, I wheelie out of the exit of turn three about 30 degrees, but this lap wasn't typical. I was traveling slightly slower through the turns while accepting third place. The slower speed translates to more thrust when opening the throttle coming over the crest exiting turn thee and my bike went up MUCH higher than normal. The extra couple tenths of a second my bike was in the air caused me to miss my turn in point at the speed I desired. Once I got on the brakes I knew I wasn't going to be able to hit my apex and my focus went to simply making the turn using the wide line. I continue to brake very deep into the turn and do everything I can to get the bike turned. I begins to turn and I run all the way out to the exit curbing. Leaned all the way over, nearly parallel to the track direction, I just barely touch the dirt on the outside of the exit curbing about half-way down the exit section - slamming me to the ground, filling my helmet with sand, and ending my race; if I only had another three inches of track.

Because I forgot to turn on my camera, Kyle gave me his rear view footage to post some of the race. I was directly behind him for a fair amount of the race and you can get a new perspective of my races. If you look in the background right before the end of the video, you can see me run off in turn four.
Enjoy:



Sunday

I woke up very sore. Most muscles on my body were stiff and ached; it felt like I played a game of football the day before. But it wasn't the soreness which was the problem. The wreck on Saturday managed to screw up my right knee and ankle so that I couldn't properly walk, let alone move around on the bike. I couldn't press with my right foot because my ankle was essentially locked in place from swelling. After going out for a practice session, I was barely able to get off the bike and racing in an hour was becoming seriously doubted.


750 Superbike

My goals for the 750 race were simple: stay upright and score some points. I was third in the championship and had quite the gap on fourth. I knew my 1:46s from the day before were a fair amount faster than my two main competitors in the class (who also race in the Middleweight class): Travis Trevethick #644 and Ramsey Junaid #861.

Starting third on the grid, the green flag drops and Jeff Keohen #607 makes one of his famous starts from the second row and blew by me before the first turn, not much later I fell victim to Travis getting to turn seven before me. I found myself in fourth trying to hold-off new fast kid, Jordan Edginton #743. But the fight didn't last long as he went by me on the second lap, diving under me at the apex on turn eleven. I watched Travis, Ramsey, Jeff, and Jordan all begin to pull away from me little by little. I couldn't muster the strength to pull my 1:46s from the day before and instead meandered my way around the track at 1:49s and 1:48s. But that didn't stop everyone in front of me from running 47s and 46s.

Not only was I fighting a physical battle with myself but also a mental one; turn four never seemed so difficult and slow until that day. Eventually the torture of the race ended and I took forth place; only because Ramsey's chain broke while he was coming out of the carousel. I kept it up and scored some points, but I learned that the rest of the day would not be easy.


600 Superbike

After throwing away my championship in Middleweight, 600 Superbike was the only other class that I was not 3rd in the championship. Unfortunately, I have to face off with Kyle and Rue again. Knowing that I was riding much slower, I decided my best chance is to try and get ahead early and use as much positioning strategy as possible to stay in the fight.

But reality kicked in as soon as the race began. I was quickly shuffled back and found myself in 5th place behind #914, Ricardo Villegas. I didn't want to sit behind him for long, knowing I must just up towards the front right away, so I tuck to the inside of the exit for turn three and wheelie by Ricardo, stick the landing and wrangle in the bike to make turn four. The next step is finding a way by Digby Norris, #872. I don't find myself battling with Norris, so I had no idea of his tendencies nor where is the safest/smartest place to pass him. I certainly didn't want to try a risky maneuver with my physical state and take out the both of us, so I hung back for a lap. When coming across the start/finish line, I decided the best place to take him would be the entrance to the carousel. I was slightly hesitant because of my crash the day prior, but felt this would be safer than trying a few of the other passing areas, considering our speed differential. When we get to turn six, I go gentle on the front brakes and get to the right side of the track. the bike begins to fight me to turn as we enter the drop, but I was able shut the door and get in Digby's way enough to hold him off on the run to turn seven,

I begin to reel-in Kyle as I watch Rue take off into the sunset. The next four laps I keep a fairly even pace with Kyle as we come through traffic. On the 7th lap, Kyle over shoots the entry to turn seven and I am back in the hunt, right on his tail. It is too bad I wasn't a hair closer, because Kyle's error occurred in the best zone for passing him from an unforced error. I begin looking for areas to get by Kyle and then I see a sign from my girlfriend that someone is on my ass and looking to pass. On the final lap I start seeing the front wheel of Andy Marinshaw #818 poking his nose underneath me in almost every turn.

Kyle, Andy, and I coming railing out of turn seven and see a slew of slower riders just in the distance. Based on our speed differential in relation to these slower riders, I put a plan together to get in the inside of Kyle going into turn eleven. I won't actually pass him, but rather sit in a spot tight on the entry and apex which will force him back because of the fast line being plugged by the slower riders. We line up coming out of ten, I wait until Kyle hits the brakes and I commit to the move. Just as I make the inside move I see a yellow flag out of the corner of my eye. SHIT!!! I just passed under yellow and will be disqualified if I don't let Kyle back by. I realize I just need to take third because the accident in turn one ahead prevents any passing. I run out wide to let Kyle back underneath, the last thing I wanted was having him caught behind traffic and coming across the line after me. Just as Kyle comes back underneath me, Andy comes with him and i cross the line in forth.

Unfortunately for Andy, he did not see the yellow flag in turn eleven and was subsequently disqualified for his pass. It was sad to see because of his great run he made at the end of the race. Andy's DQ placed me in third with a best time of 1:48.6. I am in second place in the 600 championship by only seven points because of Rue's win. This means for the final race of the season if Rue wins and I take second (unlikely because Kyle is much faster than me at Thunderhill) we will be tied for second, and I believe Rue's number of wins will give him the championship position. However, if he comes in second and I come in third, I will be second in the 2012 championship by a point. If he beats me by any more than one position, I will be third in the championship. Very interesting.


Formula 1 ( No video - dead battery after leaving camera running after 600 Superbike )

By the time the third race of the day came around, the swelling in my knee and ankle rendered them fairly useless. The endorphins from the 600 race helped numb the pain, but I still couldn't exert the force needed to run as well as I did the day before. The formula 1 championship had me in third place with only 9 points to Trevethick in second and 12 to Ramsey in first. This Championship had not yet been determined, so if I can get my act together and maximize my last chance to move up the ladder, I could feasibly be first in the championship.

The race starts and I get a great launch, moving around Ramsey and into second place behind Travis. On the second lap Ramsey worked his way around me, relegating me to third place. On the following lap, Andy Marinshaw flew by me like he had something to prove. Apparently he did because he went on to win the race with a dominate performance while running 1:46 lap times.

By this point, all I could do was hang onto the bike and hope something happens in front of me. I was making errors everywhere and praying for the chequered flag. Never before have I wanted a race to be shortened, never before had I hated being in a race. My muscles were screaming, my bones ached, and everything told me to just stop. Even if I pull in and quit this race I will still be third in the championship, forth is not even close. But I couldn't give up, I just couldn't; it isn't in my nature. If the race lasted fifty laps and I was in last place by a mile, I still never would have been able to quit. I finished forth with a 1:48.0 and finally was able to call it a day.


Round 6 Conclusion:

Crashing sucks.

Losing Grip

“Some people see the glass half full. Others see it half empty.

I see a glass that's twice as big as it needs to be.”  - George Carlin

Pragmatic. That is how I approach my racing. I keep a realist view in order to keep a grip on the reality of my expectations, on my results, and my racing career. It gives me the ability to use goals as a point for which to aim, without being over-reaching. My pragmatism keeps me from freaking out when my practice times are 6-7 seconds slower than my race times, it reminds me of the reality that my practice times won’t meet my race times – because then, as logic dictates, I am going too slow in the races. It reminds that my tires have a limit of grip and I should ride to the limit or a little below, as opposed to letting passion over-step the limit and crash out. It reminds me to not try and brute the bike around like I would earlier in life during a football game. Being pragmatic allows me to firmly grip onto the big-picture concept of: enjoying what I am doing, doing the best of my abilities, racing my race, and letting the results fall as they may.

This last race weekend, I lost grip.

Saturday

Saturday was strange. I awoke early in the morning in my hotel room, but I wasn’t that tired. I walked out of the hotel room and to the truck without gripping onto a pile of books and my laptop. I had no stress, I had no school, I wasn’t struggling to grasp onto a schedule of how I would fit all I must accomplish outside of racing into my race weekend. This feeling was eerie.

I went out to my first practice and did my usual 3 lap warm-up. I generally have to come in after 3-4 laps because my hands are hurting from gripping the bars and levers. I am sure I am normally clenching my fists as sleep the night prior, having stress dreams and worries of my day to follow. But when I came in on Saturday, I came in out of habit and not out of soreness or the need to relax myself a little further. I felt slow, but I was moving fairly quickly. Normally my opening session I am running laps around 2:06 and fighting to push through a 2:03; but on Saturday, my first flying lap was a 2:03.4 followed by 2:01.1. I didn’t believe it when Georgia told me this in the pits; it felt like a 2:14 at best. My pragmatic voice kicked in and told me to get a grip, this is only practice and it is only a 2:01.

Second practice came and I didn’t feel rushed before heading out. I didn’t have anything to change on the bike nor to fix, this was strange. Normally on my second session, I will stay out the whole time and begin feeling out the bike for any suspension or tire pressure adjustments. But this time I came in after only three laps. It was almost like I didn’t even care about practice, I was just kind of “whatever” about it. I wasn’t upset or happy, I just was. I didn’t even remember opening my throttle to 100% one time; I simply went around checking-in with my apexes, just to pay them a visit and see how they are doing. So you could imagine my shock when Georgia yelled at me, “Good job, 1:58”. I was befuddled. What just happened? Did I really just run a 1:58? Did I really just run only .6 seconds slower than my record time? I checked my timer and confirmed it too be true. I tried to contain my excitement, but my mind started off into dreamland: “If I ran a 1:58 now, what the hell am I going to run in the races? Oh my god, I am going to kill it this weekend. I am going to beat Kyle at Thunderhill, of all places”. After only 6 laps of practice, I had begun to lose grip on keeping calm; I had begun to lose grip on reality.

Middleweight

I always get a little nervous lining up on the grid, as I should. But this time when I came around the last turn on the warm-up lap, I began feeling really nervous – almost sick, like I was going vomit in my helmet. When I got to my grid spot I was shaking like a leaf; I lost grip on my mental state.

The green flag drops and I get a pretty good start. Stephen Rue #889 gets a killer start and leaves everyone in the dust (I think Stephen used to do a little stoplight street racing before he came to the AFM). On my right I have Ramsey Junaid #861 peeking out and on my left Kyle Schirrmacher #780 is beginning to drift over from his position on the pole. He’s still drifting. Still drifting. Clack! Kyle and I have a little love tap which shifts my bike into 3^rd gear prematurely, leaving me chasing Ramsey, Kyle, and Stephen into turn 1 with my RPMs lower than ideal.

I get underneath Ramsey between turns one and two and begin to latch onto Kyle. I determined a week earlier (and protested it to Kyle’s main pit guy, Skyler) that my goals/plan for middleweight was to tag onto Kyle’s tail and hope to keep pace through the race. This would leave me way ahead of the pack and allow me to make some attempts on Kyle during the last lap.

Kyle and I worked our way through traffic of the F50 and Heavyweight race, sometimes for his benefit and sometimes for mine. I kept on Kyle until about halfway through the race when he ran a fast lap while I made a mistake in turn six, leaving Kyle to run away in the fast section. As I saw Kyle catching Stephen, I knew I still had a chance for the second half of the plan: make a move on the last lap.

After working my way up toward the two of them on the last lap, I saw traffic ahead which I would be able to use to get underneath Kyle/Stephen on the brakes. However, coming out of turn five on that lap I began to get a severe crap in my right hip flexor. I couldn’t hold back any longer and while coming out of turn nine on the run down the hill, I stood up and stretched out my hip while at full speed. As I sat back down on the bike I misjudged my braking point and missed the apex of ten. This lead me to run very wide on the exit, close the throttle, and run to the absolute very edge of the rumble strip while sliding my rear tire. I lost grip on the front runners and the chance to make a move. I finished 3^rd with a best time of 1:57.691

 http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-middleweight

Sunday

After getting a third in clubman at Thunderhill (a very hard task for my hamster-powered bike) and running a relaxed 1:58 in practice, I lost grip of my concern for my Sunday races. I thought I had it in the bag. Kyle and Stephen are only in my 600 Superbike race and my main two competitors in the 750 Superbike and Formula 1 championships, Travis Trevethick #644 and Ramsey Junaid #861, were running 1:59s. I had it in the bag.

Then I made what may have been my biggest mistake all weekend. I watched the 750 production race from the pit wall. I saw Ramsey not only running with Kyle, but beating him. I checked timing and saw they were running 1:55s! What!!?! Where the hell did they find 2 seconds? Now I was worried; how would I run 1:55? I began to lose grip on my nerves.

750 Superbike

I got a good start and fell into turn one in forth position behind #607, Jeff Keohen. I knew I couldn't let Ramsey and Travis get away in the front; if I had any chance to run 1:55 I knew I would need to be pulled along. I got around Jeff on the entry to turn nine and began to pursue. At this point, I would need to catch-up before they took off and try to simply get in their way.

After only a couple laps, I began to get severe arm pump in my right arm. I decided to back off the attempt on Travis and Ramsey. I got a signal from the wall that Jeff has fallen off the pace and I had room to simply take third. Then a short time later an unfamiliar bike came by me on the run up the hill to turn 9. Young gun #743, Jordan Edginton, managed to get by me on his 750 and we began to battle, so much for my 'go-easy' plan. I actually ran quicker laps than Jordan, but I simply could not get by him. Between my arm feeling like hell and the strong drives Jordan got out of the turns, I had to relinquish my grip on the 3^rd place trophy for 750 Superbike. I finished 4^th with a best of 1:57.8 and an arm that felt like it experienced 40 years of arthritis in a 8 minute period. Travis now joined the rest and also ran 1:55s.

http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-750-superbike

600 Superbike

The 600 Superbike race started out just like the Middleweight race. Stephen Rue was in first, Kyle was in second, and I was tagging onto Kyle’s tail. As the race went on, I lost touch with those two as we went through traffic. Unfortunately I caught behind traffic from turns 6-10 and newcomer, Manuel Hernandez #744, took advantage and wedged his way into 3rd on the inside of the turn 10 entry. He and I battled back and forth for the remainder of the race.

The pain in my arm began to really affect my riding and I was sliding my front and rear tires in areas unusual for me. The high speed of turn seven slides was by far the most “puckering” turn of them all. Leaned over at full tilt, throttle wide open, and a tire which insists on going faster than the actual rate of travel; I had now lost grip with my tires. Rest assured, this was all caused from my own doing, the bike and tires were operating great, my right arm had become a remote-operated extension of a lifeless aperture causing havoc with my riding.

I tried my darndest on the last lap to make a run on Manuel; but just like with Jordan in the 750 race, I came across the finish line in forth – only a blink of an eye off the podium.

http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-600-superbike

Formula 1

With Formula 1 came the final loss of grip, I could no longer even hold onto the bars; my arms had completely failed me. I ran in second place for the first half of the race behind Ramsey, until Travis came flying by me in the front straight into turn one. I kept on his tail for as long as I could. After seeing the thumbs up from my girlfriend signaling on the pit wall, I decided it was better for me to fall back and take my points for the championship rather than crashing out. At this point I couldn’t hold the bars at all, I couldn't open the throttle to 100%, and I couldn’t feel the front end of the bike. I had completely lost grip at this point. I finished the race in third with a best time of 1:58.0.

http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-formula-1

After the Flag

I came home disappointed with my times and my finishes. I decided to run an analysis of my finishing positions and lap times since I started racing. I saw constant progression and soon realized that I had lost grip on the scope of the situation. Yes, everyone else got faster, but so did I over time. Two 4th place and two 3rd place finishes is pretty good for me at Thunderhill with my rat bike. If I wasn’t so concerned with everyone else’s times, I may have run just as fast as they did and my arm may not have been strained. I lost grip on perspective and as such I lost grip on my bars. Relax, run your race, and let the results come.

When Opportunity Meets Determination

“We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.”

Charles R. Swindoll

Concern grew greater as the race weekend grew nearer. I hadn't been to Sears Point in a year and on that weekend I wrecked on my second lap of the first race, ending my weekend. In the year since I have barley ridden at all and have made changes to suspension settings, tires, and gearing. I was essentially going into this weekend with no prior data, I had to rely on calculations I was making in my head about the changes and how they would affect my riding. My "perfect shift points" will move, my drive will change, the battle to keep my front end down coming out of 3 has just become more difficult.

But Sears Point is known as a rider's track, where results are given for control and not raw horsepower. Although having extra power helps, it doesn't help nearly as much as any other track. Even the pros in the AMA acknowledge its difficulty in its raw nature. It is a track which is developed by the natural undulating hillsides of Napa valley, not from a desk and computer screen. Sears Point has attitude, anger, and acrimony and will take a rider down for the slightest form of disrespect shown through arrogant riding. My plan this weekend was to think my way through the track, leverage my strong areas, and try to maintain position during the open sections through smart vehicle placement.

Saturday

I woke up Saturday to look outside and say, "shit". The sky was caked in dark clouds, the air had a chill, the ground was covered in a light dew; not a good formula for a Sears Point race weekend. Arriving at the track only brought more concern for the weather, as a fine mist/sprinkle began during the early hours of registration and technical inspections. This was not looking good.

I decided I would spend the first session simply waking up my brain and reminding myself of my entry/apex/exit points. Last thing I want to do is me the guy who tosses his bike in the opening practice session. Leaving the hot-pits I ascend up the hill to turn two planning to merge with traffic. As I cross over a very thin painted yellow line separating the hot pit area from the live track, my rear tire losses grip and spin WAY out to the side. I was able to wrangle the bike back in at the cost of tweaking my back a little. This had set the tone for the remainder of my practices.

I ran slowly during my practices and only did a few laps; concentrating on quality laps and mental exercises rather than quantity. I saw a lot of my competition running some fast times during practice, which began to concern me a little. I still wanted to go easy, but needed to figure out what they were doing. I used what little practice time I had left to time myself with traffic so that I can see what people are doing and where, giving me an idea how to plan for the weekends races. This is not nearly as good as running a few laps at full speed while on their rear, but my gut told me that was asking for trouble.

Plus, this strategy saved my already heavily used tires, which I couldn't change because of a VERY tight budget this round (technically shouldn't have been able to make this race weekend)

Middleweight

I'll start by saying this, middleweight was one hell of a fun battle - much more so than any on-board video could ever show.

Just before the middleweight race began, the clouds began to disperse and gave way to sunshine. The wind however, had stayed behind and was blowing hard from the north. As I headed up for the warm-up lap I noted how heavily the flags around the track were waving and began to plan for alterations for this factor. Wind is a real pain because it is inconsistent and can not be seen while racing. There is no way to know if going into a turn if the wind has increased, decreased, or change direction. Because of this, a rider must gave a margin of error in either direction when entering a turn otherwise he may end up braking too early or not making the turn at all. Personally, I'll take the consistency of rain over wind any day.

The green flag waves and I get a good reaction time but dropped the clutch too quickly. I am able to get back on the gas rather well and carry a lot of speed through turn one and up the hill to the ever sketchy turn two. I find myself in third, just to the inside positioning of Stephen Rue #889 and Kyle Schirrmacher #780. I quickly analyze two options: 1) go to the inside and hope everything works out 2) back off the gas and maintain. I decide on the later because I don't want to be a bowling ball and take out the whole field in turn two. Oddly enough, Rue and Kyle both left a window I could have used, oh well.

My strategy is to keep Kyle in sight while I watch Rue for a lap. But when Rue has a little bobble exiting turn six I quickly decide I am going to try and beat him in seven as a result of his loss in drive. Sitting on the inside, I begin to tip in and I see Rue coming in right at me and the apex, forcing me to sit up for just a moment. This moment gives Sergio Sanchez-Chopitea #424 a pass on my outside while Sergio Fernandez #771 takes me on the inside. I get back on the gas hard to get back around Fernandez, only to see him power up beside me going into 9 and taking the inside back.

I am now in fifth and know I have to step on it or they are going to run away from me. I run hard out of nine and ten taking the inside away from Rue in eleven. I spend the next half a lap chipping away at the lead the leaders pulled on me as a result of my turn eleven heroics, out-braking Sanchez-Chopitea in seven and pulling beside Fernandez in the front straight. We are side-by-side playing a game of chicken while racing at full-throttle to turn one with me squeezed between the wall and Sergio's bike. The moment I see his forks compress I get on the brakes and guide the bike through turn one to begin my attack on Kyle's reign in first place.

I try an inside move in turn four and stick the pass, but executed it a moment too soon which allowed Kyle to delay his turn in and give him a counter attack on the inside of the exit. I start poking my nose into weird lines trying to set up drives and pass maneuvers while simultaneously holding back Fernandez. Then it happens...

Fernandez comes in very hot to the inside of turn nine, shooting by me and pushing out Kyle into the dirt. I set up behind Fernandez expecting to run behind him to turn eleven and try a wide pass move. But then suddenly Sergio sits up while exiting turn nine to return the position to Kyle, leaving me to have to sit up and act evasively. I get around the two of them and suddenly I am in the lead.

My strategy has suddenly changed. Normally I have a few moments to reanalyze what is going on and decide on a plan, but my brain kicked in with a simple, "GO!!! FUCKING GO!!!!". I had to get away from them, I had to break them and let their battle keep me at a distance, that lap I ran my fastest lap ever at Sears Point (Plus the fastest lap of anyone in the entire race).

The following lap I saw my girlfriend signaling me from the pit wall that I had pulled a gap on them. My brain kicked in, "ok, you made some space - don't crash. Maintain and see how they react". Being as inexperienced as I am to leading a race, my "maintenance" was a 1.4 second drop in lap time. After leading for three laps, Sergio had caught me on the inside of eleven. We came charging down the straight side-by-side, just as we had before, only this time he was to the outside.

I tried to play chicken with Sergio but with the inside position, I didn't have the safe leverage position I wanted. So I decided to back it off and file in behind, planning to use his timing for a last lap pass in nine or eleven while holding back Kyle. After a couple laps, we see slower traffic in the near distance and I begin to postulate just how I would use the traffic to my advantage.

Sooner than I had wanted, an opportunity presented itself in turn nine and I took the inside on the entry. The slower rider in front of us took a much more square line through the bus stop which forced me to make a last minute adjustment and killed some of my drive out. I get on the gas hard and suddenly feel my fairing slapping on my right foot and knee, I check to my right to see Fernandez leaded on my bike trying his best to stay on track and maintain speed. I give him the benefit of space and don't run him wide, but there was no way I backing off the throttle.

I didn't want the same problem in turn eleven as I just had in nine so I set up wide to try and get a run around these 1000cc bikes. What I failed to calculate was the speed differential that would occur when a pack of us all came almost to a stop in nine and then charged toward eleven, I had been out-run and pushed out from the inside by Kyle and both the Sergios. Crossing the line, the white flag was out, I had eleven turns to get by three people and slower traffic to win this thing - I'll admit I lost hope for the first turn or two after this happened, until I decided to claw back.

Racing down the drag-strip the four of us get by a one-liter bike from the heavyweight class, except he came back under me in the middle of turn seven and then chopping off my nose as I attempt to fly by him in the esses. I charge as hard as I can out toward nine, knowing that if I can get back to the pack by eleven I can still pull a podium at bare minimum.

I see Fernandez run wide on the entry of nine and I take a shallow line to get by him before he's able to recover. I'm set-up behind someone when suddenly Sanchez-Chopitea gets hard on the gas during the exit and looses the rear tire. I now have two people in front of me, Kyle and mystery bike. I had no idea who this bike was but didn't want to take any chances for a missed opportunity. Maybe he got by me in the turn eleven fiasco last lap and I didn't know. Maybe he is a heavyweight, but Kyle may still run wide in eleven and leave the door open. I didn't want to settle for where I was and charged through ten and eleven as hard as I can, taking second place with a best lap time of 1:47.587.

That was a very fun race and was more pleased with the battle itself than the actual results (But I won't turn away a second place)

http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-4-sears-point-june-30july-1-middleweight

Sunday

I hate morning races, always have. I could go into a lot of details why, but since you just read that whole long passage for only one race, I'll keep the remainder brief.

750 Superbike

I got a "meh" start and found myself in forth place, caught behind David LaBree #999. I thought I would get by him on the inside of two, and probably could have forced it safely, but instead sat-up as he came across my front and let #644 Travis Trevethick get around my outside. I was feeling very lazy and sloppy; did I mention I am not a morning person?

After seeing Ramsey Junaid #861 and Sergio Sanchez-Chopitea #424 begin to run away I try finding my way past David on his powerful gsx-r 750. I get stuck behind him for a lap and a half until turn seven on the second lap, when I am able to get to the inside of him on the brakes. Just as I begin to give steering input, I see Travis' front wheel on my inside. Knowing there is no way for me to take advantage here, I kept it upright until he turned in so I could jump on his tail. But he never turned in, just went flying by to the run off area. I found out later on that he had a brake failure, could have been a lot worse!
I spent the rest of the time trying to catch Ramsey and Sergio. I had taken off from David and all I had to concentrate on was playing catch-up. But every time I would make progress, I would lose it right back because of a stupid error: overshoot turn one, miss a shift, brake to hard, etc.

The torture of my pitiful riding came to an end a few laps later when the red flag came out as I was entering turn seven. I managed to scam the other riders out of a third place finish. But that is not the best part...

As I was coming to a stop in the run out area of turn seven, Ramsey begins to circle back around at traffic. Not knowing what he was doing or where he was going I begin to the right to avoid a head-on collision. Problem was, I was also braking. Suddenly I found myself a victim of the classic newbie parking lot crash. I picked up my bike and yelled to Ramsey, "I didn't expect you to turn around!"

Did I mention I hate morning races?


http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-4-sears-point-june-30july-1-750-superbike

600 Superbike

It only took a second before I found myself in the same scenario as I did in the middleweight race the day prior; going into turn two behind Kyle and Rue. I gave chase and we managed to catch slower traffic by turn eleven of the first lap. Going into turn six on the second lap I had a white-plate bike come underneath me. I had no idea how he got there, did he get pushed off track earlier in that incident in seven which I saw the riders yelling at each other? Did he have to start from pit row because he missed his call? Either way, I decided to ignore him as he diced through me, Rue, and Kyle and focus on our race.

I came through on Rue on the inside of the exit of turn seven, never to see him again; putting my nose down and trying to hunt down Kyle. As the race goes on, Kyle and I find ourselves dealing with a ton of slower riders. He eventually is able to use these moving pylons to create some separation from me. I see signals from my girlfriend that I am completely clear of any competition behind me, and decide to go conservative and take the second place rather than risking receiving zero points by making crazy moves through traffic and crashing out.

The first results posted showed me in second place but the result page was later pulled down and replaced, moving me down to third. Turns out the mystery white plate rider who passed us on the second lap was an accomplished racer who had been counted as a first place finish in our class. I never would have had a chance since he was running 1:44s.

https://contour.com/stories/afm-round-4-sears-point-june-30-july-1-600-superbike



Formula 1 (no video)

In another episode of "Dan Butler's dumb moves", I left my camera running after the 600 Superbike race and recorded another race in the background and all my lunch hour activities. Just as our race was called, I hear the camera beep that the battery has just died, D'OH!

When the green flag drops on the formula 1 race, I get shuffled back to sixth place by turn 2. I spend the first lap trying to peek in a wheel where I can. Problem is, when the guys in front are sitting three or four wide going into a turn there really isn't a safe place to make a move. Come the beginning of the second lap I do a quick calculation of the differential needed to catch-up to the leaders. I determine I must pass (and stick) at least one rider per lap and go about a second a lap faster than the leaders to have any chance to win.

On the second lap, I get a nice drive out of 8 and get a little crossed up wheelie. After bringing it down I get on the brakes, my non-slipper clutch bike chattering the rear slightly as I step the rear out. I lean in and stick a smooth pass  to the inside of the two riders in front of me and get a great drive on the exit. My focus is like none other now, that pass just awoke the beast. Eyes of fire, belly of hunger, I am on the move.

I continue to move up the ladder one by one. My wrist throbbing with pain from over rotating the throttle. My worn tires gripping well but reminding me of the wear with ever-so controlled slides. As I pull into third place behind Andy Marinshaw #818 my forearm begin to experience arm-pump, lactic acid has crept into my bloodstream and still leaves me sore as I write this.

I get by Andy and stare at Sergio Fernandez in the distance, my laser guidance system locked in on target. I pull up behind Sergio to see if he is doing anything different than earlier, checking where I can get him. I think about the inside of nine but instead decide on the slingshot out of nine and through eleven. I get the drive I am looking for and pull to his left while on the brakes for eleven - does he know I am there? Sergio takes his normal line for eleven and I counter with a slow entry/fast exit move, forcing my way into the lead for turn one for the final lap.

I clinch my teeth to pull from Sergio, knowing I have to put the dagger in the heart with him or he will surely try a move on the brakes in turn seven, nine, or eleven. I find the balance of blocking lines with speed and cut a full second on my best lap of the race thus far with a 1:47.7. I come out of eleven look to my right and see Sergio just entering the turn. I blaze down the straight in full tuck with my left arm curled to my side, my hand gesturing the number one to my girlfriend who is on the pit wall losing her mind. I did it; my first win in a championship race.

2012 Championship Standings thus far:
Middleweight: 4th place, but only one point down from a tie for second place
750 Superbike: 3rd place and on the move upwards
600 Superbike: 2nd place, behind Kyle Schirrmacher
Formula 1: 2nd place, three points behind championship leader Travis Trevethick

Juxtaposition

“...it ain't about how hard you hit; it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward. . It's how much you can take, and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done” - Sylvester Stallone

This was my first race since graduating; this was my first race weekend where I didn’t have to do school work on the drive up, at the hotel, and between races. My brain and body were very confused about what to do with the extra stress and focus usually reserved for these weekends. I decided to use this extra stress on throwing a wrench in the works by changing an important variable on the bike at the last minute; maybe I thrive on stress, maybe I am simply not familiar with anything else.

The week leading up to this race I had received some messages from friends stating that it appeared I was running my gearing to tall, killing my drive. I have run stock gearing since day one of owning the gsx-r because I wanted to focus on improving as a rider and not playing around with changing gearing all the time. I simply didn’t want to lose focus on working on the most important factor, me.

This weekend I decided to give into temptation and run the front sprocket down one tooth. I knew this would change certain behavior in the bike, but hoped the net effect was beneficial. I ran the first session with stock gearing just to wake up and shake off the cobwebs since the last race weekend. After pulling in, I immediately changed out my gearing to 15/45 and began mentally preparing for what changes would occur and how I would handle them. Years of football had taught me to visualize variable change; I had to picture and think my way through new shift points, different throttle responses, and a quicker winding rear end. What I failed to calculate for haunted me all through Saturday, increased engine compression and change in engine braking behavior.

Middleweight (no video)

Middleweight was a disaster for me. Figuring out the gearing at practice speed worked out well for me, but race speed was a whole other animal. I found myself stuck running a few seconds slower than normal and being unable to reassess the changes needed to improve. I started in forth position, but by the end of the first lap I had fallen to sixth place. This progression continued and I fell back one more spot on the following lap; by lap five I had fallen back all the way to ninth place, where I eventually finished.

When I sat down at my pit area after the race, I was incredibly distraught with my riding. The entire race I struggled with adjusting my entry speed into corners with this new gearing. I don’t have a fancy-dancy slipper clutch so my clutch control rhythm associated with corner entry was completely out of whack. Any chance I had of taking a top three in the middleweight championship has likely gone out the window with one poor performance.  

Final results 9^th place out of 30, best lap of 1:59.2

Middleweight Solo Endurance (N) (no video)

The solo race is a race I looked forward to having for quite some time. Despite the fact that I had to abandon my gym routine for the last few months due to an insane school and work load in the final semester, I find that I still retain my athleticism and have really good endurance; often hitting faster times the longer I ride. the solo race would be a LeMans start race, meaning we had to start off the bike and run across the track, start the bike, and take off.

I was rather pissed after my crappy performance 40 minutes earlier and there was no way I was going to let anyone beat me to my bike in a foot race. I have many, many years of football training for the first few steps of explosion. One of these 140 lb guys may beat me in a one mile run, but I own the first 40 yards.

When the green flag drops I take off and jam to my bike, I flip my leg over the bike and hear my girlfriend (who was holding the bike) yell, “CLEAR, CLEAR, CLEAR!”. I take off like a bat out of hell, first of the yellow plates and right behind two experts. In my mind I remind myself to get up and fight; I was not going to let my crappy racing earlier bog my mind. I get around #402 Rob Brown in the first lap and put my head down. I knew that if I broke the rest of the field I could easily maintain the rest of the race while the field tires out.

As I come around the front straight, I see my girlfriend signaling from the pits that I have a substantial lead. I couldn’t believe it, for the first time ever I am leading a race! I found myself losing focus to the utter excitement of possibility, as though I was a 15 boy who brought a porn star to the prom. I focused the rest of the race on simply maintaining a distance from the pack. I could have tried to go faster, but I wanted to conserve my tires for the rest of the endurance race because I had three races on Sunday which I must also run with this same set. Furthermore, it was completely senseless to crash in a race which I held a sizable lead.

Coming around turn 15 for the final time I found myself in unfamiliar territory. I didn’t have to worry about someone flying by me in the straightaway and stealing my win. The checkered flag meant something totally different; it went from saying the race is over, to meaning I had won. This time the checkered flag was actually for me!

I rolled into the pits not believing what happened. There was no way I won, someone had to have taken off before me and I never saw them. I honestly wasn’t even sure if I had won or not. After my girlfriend had lifted the bike up on the rear stand I asked, “Did I win? I think I won”. She confirmed it with a smile, a hug, and some tears. 

Despite the win, I still felt like I had only wounded my unicorn, shot him with an arrow in the distance. I knew my battle was not yet done.

750 Superbike (N)

The start of 750 Superbike left in 3^rd place going into turn one behind the redcoats, #400 Micah Larson and #861 Ramsey Junaid. I kept pace with them around the track, plotting and planning where I can possibly make a move on these two. On the first lap, I test a few lines here and there to test differentials but it looks like it will be tough to find anything, especially if they stay paced with each other.

The three of us head up the hill out of turn eight and I get one of the best drives up the hill I had ever gotten. Just then, Ramsey moves to his left and reveals a bike right in front of me on the exit area. Berto Wollridge #115 had taken a big spill in the expert wave and his bike decided to rest right on the exit are of this critical turn, giving and interesting twist to the race.

Travis Trevethick #644 comes blaring by me in the straights as usual and I am quickly shuffled down to 4^th place. I ride their tails for the next few laps, poking in my nose where I can. Inside of three, outside of nine, a near high-side exiting turn two; a jab here and a jab there but I miss the knockout punch and quickly find myself caught behind slower traffic, #971 Tom Wilbert, separating me from the fight. I end up in fourth place just missing the podium yet again, with a best time of 1:57.5.

https://contour.com/stories/afm-round-3-2012-june-3-2012-750-superbike

600 Superbike (N)

For 600 SB I am gridded in 5^th place and get an ok start, I am shuffled back to 6^th place by turn one (which strange enough had a yellow flag waving, how do you start a race with a yellow flag and not get penalized for passing?) In the opening lap I find myself caught behind #914 Ricardo Villegas and can see the lead pack begin to pull away. I try to find was around Ricardo but have to wait to make a move in turn 14 turn get by on the inside, just to find him sneaking in the inside on me in turn one after a run down the front straight. I again find myself having to get by on the inside of 14 but this time I began my turn in a little earlier for turn one and shut the door on letting him pass me on the inside. Knowing my lap ahead of me is now open, I focus on catching the front pack.

I end up battling with #771 Sergio Fernandez for the remainder of the race eventually ending in 4^th place. But after a lap or so of battling with Sergio, I begin feeling a weird vibration in my rear end. Is my tire out of balance? Is my suspension having issues? I continue fighting on but the vibration is getting worse. I then begin to hear a tick, did I spin a bearing? Is it just an exhaust leak? Is it just in my head? After crossing the finish line and slowing down I begin to hear the ticking more loudly, the engine is no longer covering the sound. I can feel the tick in my handlebars and it dawns on me that the countershaft sprocket has probably loosened form the gear change from yesterday. I cruise my way back toward the pits just to hear the noise even more pronounced as I enter turn 14. (Watch the video all the way to the end if you want to hear the noise for yourself) As I come into the pits I see my girlfriend walking back and suddenly turn around when hearing the noise. I park the bike quickly and yell, “got to fix it, I got 20 minutes!”


https://contour.com/stories/afm-round-3-2012-june-3-2012-600-superbike

Formula 1 (N)

I am now stuck with a broken bike and a race in 20 minutes. I figure I have just enough time to remove the lower fairing, pull the countershaft cover and tighten the nut (hopefully it is still there), and get the bike back together in time to make the next race. I pull open the cover to discover the sprocket is just fine and hasn’t loosened in any way. We fire up the motor and don’t hear any unusual noises.

I then spin the rear wheel to hear the screech of Freddy Krueger’s bladed glove dragging against a chalkboard and see the wheel seize in place. I begin tearing into the rear caliper and rotor area, expecting the pads to be catching, or a warped rotor, or pads which have worn down to the metal. I see nothing of the sort. What I do see is a fresh scratch mark on the inner area of the rotor, indicating something is rubbing. I grab a flathead screwdriver and pry open the rear pads, spin the rear wheel and still the wheel screeches each time that mark is within the caliper area. I don’t see any warp of the rotor visually, but taking no chances I begin to try and manipulate the rotor back into a usable shape. I use every trick in the book, but no matter what I do the terrible drag and screech remains. Looking at the pads from underneath the bike, I notice that the outside pad moves dramatically during each rotation at this exact same spot.

I hear second call for the race and know I have to fix what was wrong, there is no way I am giving up; there is no way I am giving in. I know this is my race, I know I must fight. I forgo the opportunity for a warm up lap and try to get a view of the pads from the other side, through the inside of the wheel. Just then I see that a bolt for the rear sprocket has broken off and wiggled its way out of the threading, thereby rubbing against the swingarm and mangling itself and the swingarm in the process.

I grab the tools I need and hear the ominous voice of defeat over my left shoulder, “Race 12, formula 1, this is your FINAL CALL!”. But in my head I hear the voice of Mickey from the Rocky movies yelling, “Get up, one more round. I didn’t hear no bell; get up you son of a bitch!”. I refuse to miss this race, I refuse to be told I won’t, I refuse to let one more thing keep me from my goal.

I finish getting the bike together just in time to make it out to the race. I take the grid and knowing that my tires are cold, I realize I will need to go easy in the beginning of the race. I fall back a few spots and find myself battling with #424 Sergio Sanchez-Chopitea and #607 Jeff Keohen. I wish I had the camera on for this race because I made moves like I have never before. I was making passes on lap traffic around the outside on the paint, I made passes for position on the outside of turn one while my back end was slipping around behind me, I was sliding on my excessively worn tires in every single turn (thank goodness I did that supermoto training a year ago). Once I broke free from Sergio and Jeff from a move in turn 5, I was quickly catching up to #861 Ramsey Junaid and #644 Travis Trevethick; putting them in striking distance, but the race ended too soon.

It was by far the most hard fought race in my short racing career. I didn’t run my fastest times, nor did I win, but I refused to lay down when all seemed lost. I refused to accept anything less than my best because of the tires sliding or any other excuse. It brought back memories of a college football bowl game I played in years ago, where we stopped our opponent on the one yard line four times in a row during sudden death overtime to take the win. As I crossed the checkered flag, I wasn’t sure if I had counted right. I figured someone might be in front of these two and I am actually in forth once again. But when I came in the pits and confirmed I had third, I leaned over my tank and thought, “Fuck you, Unicorn”.

Unicorn

"The unicorn, through its intemperance and not knowing how to control itself, for the love it bears to fair maidens forgets its ferocity and wildness; and laying aside all fear it will go up to a seated damsel and go to sleep in her lap, and thus the hunters take it" -  Leonardo da Vinci


Each of us has a wild creature which we can not capture. For some it is a beautiful women of desire, for others it is the ability to control their own vices; my unicorn stands atop the box at the podium. I have had numerous races where I have finished 4th or 5th place. With the unicorn within my grasp running down the straightway to the finish, I often fall victim to another challenger's powerful engine which is able to lure the beast away from me. Going into the first race of 2012, I knew in my heart I would be able to wrestle my unicorn to the ground and finally be able to indulge in the magical properties from its alicorn.

Heading into this race weekend I hadn't ridden a motorcycle in months, not even my street bike. I have been so busy with school with up coming finals and many projects needing to be finished, the timing of the race weekend couldn't have been worse. I won't bore you with the details but I'll put it to you this way: full-time job + full-time school + up until 5:30am finishing class projects = tired puppy. My race bike also had some engine problems which left me finishing putting it together into the wee hours of the morning the day we left for the track.

When we showed to the hotel late Friday night I was greeted at the door by Ed Chung #216. Ed informed me that he was harboring Jovan Betton# 990, a new racer whom I offered to mentor on his first race weekend. I went to my room and found Ed and Jovan to be located right across the hall from us, so I went over to meet Jovan and tell him what to expect for the next day. I was there mostly to help make Jovan aware of what was happening, where he had to be, and when he had to be there. One's first race weekend can be very overwhelming and I don't want anyone else to have to go at it alone like I had to do. Having never met Jovan before, I didn't know what to expect, but he turned out to be a great guy and looks to have the drive to be very good, very soon. Good luck, Jovan.

Saturday morning proved to be an interesting case study of forgetfulness. First thing we discovered was that I forgot my tire warmers. Without the warmers I was going to have to alter my timing of the day. This was my first weekend racing on Bridgestone tires and I wasn't sure just how long they would take to get up to temperature by just doing hot-pit practice starts. The last thing I wanted was a cold tire crash for something as stupid as forgetting to bring tire warmers. Fortunately, just before my first practice session, Dave Moss volunteered an extra set for me to use which he had in his trailer. This was a god-send but because of timing I didn't have enough time to get the tires up to temperature to set the tire pressure correctly and had to forgo my first practice session. As the day went on, I came to find that I had forgotten to : 1) charge my on-board video camera; 2) bring a few very needed tools; 3) bring my work mat; 4) bring the new brake fluid I needed for a fluid change; 5) bring batteries for my lap timer; 6) bring one of my school books I really needed to read during the weekend; 7) and a few other things that I can't remember right now, ironically.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. While talking to Jovan between practice sessions about racing lines, my canopy suddenly collapses. It was not a windy day and I have no idea how it happened but a section of the frame suddenly broke in half, rendering it useless. I had to fashion a "weld" out of duct tape and zip ties. It got us through the weekend, but ANY wind in the future will probably tear it apart.

I was moving slow at practice and was feeling very sluggish. What little of my mind was actually working was focused on school work and not racing. Before I knew it, I am getting called out for my first race of the weekend, middleweight.

Middleweight (no on-board video)

Sitting in 2nd position on the grid, I knew I was going to have a battle on my hands going into turn one. The guys nearby me are fast and even faster off the line. Even if I get a god-like start, my underpowered bike will not hold the lead all the way down to turn one in the distance. I quickly devise a plan to avoid losing as many spots as possible. I decide I am going to drive hard to the apex of one and hold a mid-track exit leading to a tight take through turn two. This will held hold off contenders and hopefully everyone will begin other battles and leave me alone. The plan worked out ok as I found myself in a wheel to wheel battle with around six talented riders.

We all went back and forth for a few laps battling for position. As the race went on, I found myself battling with an old foe, #780 Kyle Schirrmacher. Trying a variety of lines on entry and exit of nearly every turn, I found myself easily able to run with, if not quicker than, Kyle in the turns. However, the moment we came to any of the fast and long sections, Kyle would open up his r6 and was simply untouchable. This led me to having to play catch-up in every set of turns and never being able to get around him. I finished in 4th place, right behind Kyle; my unicorn had escaped me once again.

Sunday

Sunday morning I came back to he track to find out that I had been classified as DNS (did not start) in Saturday's middleweight race. Race control explained to me that to prove I had finished 4th I would need to have the 5th place finisher come to timing and scoring and vouch that I had in fact finished in 4th place, ahead of him. However, because there had been issues with timing that weekend, I was not sure if I was even in sight from the 5th place finisher as I came across the finish line. I had to ask around in the pits to gather other credible racers who watched the race and were independently aware of my 4th place finish. Fortunately, #33 Eric "GoGo" Gulbransen had come over after the race on Saturday to congratulate me, complain about my paint job, and try to convince me to get a bike/engine that has power which is on par with everyone else. His emphatic explanation of how everyone ran away from me in the back section reminded me that he watched the whole race and saw me at the line. I found Eric and asked if he would go talk to timing and scoring. It was a good thing that most people like Eric because I may have been screwed out of 4th place otherwise.

750 Superbike(N)

The green flag drops and I get the best start I have ever had. Micah Larson #400 gets his usual brilliant start, moves into first place, and beats me to turn one, but by turn two I am on his tail. I know how fast Micah is, so I was rather shocked to be right on his ass in turn two. I had no idea what was going on behind me, but knew I wouldn't have to deal with the chaos if I just kept my head down and stayed with Micah for at least a lap. Going up the hill towards turn nine, Micah is able to muscle up the hill quicker than I and gets quite the drive going down the hill to turn ten as a result. I barrel into turn ten and get right up on Micah yet again at turn eleven. I get an equal drive as he coming out of the essess of 11-12-13 but as we get half way down the back straight he begins to fade in the distance.

This rubber band effect between straights and turns kept up until turn seven of the second lap, when #696 Peter Kemling shoved his way underneath me as I was turning in and almost to the apex. This caused me to momentarily sit up and killed what little straightaway drive I had. Going up the hill to turn nine, I thought I was about to take over the lead as Peter decided to ride the paint on the far left of the straight going into turn nine and not give an inch on the exit to Micah. Fortunately for the the both of them, Micah had the state of mind to sit up, back off, and miss the apex to save them both.

As Micah and Peter begin to pull away when we hit the front straight, #644 Travis Trevethick passes me like I was standing still eating an ice cream cone. A couple laps later, these three are just out of my sight. I found myself making excuses for my poor riding, "you never are good in the first race of the day", "you're not a morning person", "you're never going to be better then forth".  A few laps later, I see the white flag and a few turns later something inside me begins to awake. I tell myself to wake up, quit bitching, and give it what I got left in the tank for this race. I work my way up to about 1-1.5 seconds behind the lead group by the time I hit turn eleven. Then I see a yellow flag suddenly fly up in the corner of my eye from the flag station at turn eleven. I come over the crest of turn and see the front of #696 Peter Kemling's bike facing right at me!! Peter had wrecked, got back on his bike, and is attempting to GET BACK ON THE TRACK.

I get away from this craziness as quick as possible and quickly realize that I am now in 3rd place, my unicorn is right in front of me. I have no idea how far 4th place is back, and keep my speed at full (but under control) click and run my fastest lap of the race. I come around turn fifteen and see my girlfriend in the distance signaling someone is coming up FAST. I keep my head down and throttle open, but then at the line #861 Ramsey Junaid sneaks by and takes me at the finish by only .16 of a second. Beat at the line once again by small fractions of a second.

https://contour.com/stories/may-13-2012-afm-r2-thunderhill-750-superbike

600 Superbike(N)

I start this race on pole position, and after my start in 750 Superbike I am thinking I may be able to replicate that start again; I was dead wrong. To my right I see people begin to pass me as we run to turn one. I keep a tight line at the apex, hoping to block anyone behind, and sit in fifth place after the start. As the five of us head up the hill into turn nine, I see #696 Peter Kemling muscle by me on the inside and looking like he may overshoot the turn and take out anyone in his way, almost mirroring the line he took against Micah in the 750 race earlier. I settle in behind him and quickly realize I want to be nowhere near this guy. I decide if I can get the entry into turn ten quicker than he, I may be able to get around #424 Sergio Sanchez-Chopitea and keep Sergio as a buffer between me and Peter. But I simply couldn't get the drive down the hill to get by Peter's motor. I lucked out though when Peter took himself out of the equation my running off on the exit of turn ten, good thing I didn't get that drive on the outside after all.

I quickly catch-up to Sergio and the rest of the lead pack in turn fourteen. As we head down the straight, they get the drive on me and pull a gap, as expected. Unexpectedly however, Peter Kemling is back and at the apex of turn one on the inside of me...oh shit! I stay to the inside on the drive out of one and heading into turn two I stay tight and leave about nine different line options on the outside so we can both safely make it through the turn. But instead, Peter comes right at me, so I back off and get to stay alive. I move up behind Peter as he comes underneath Sergio going into three; and using his trademark dive in and run someone out wide move, Peter pushes out Sergio (who I then see shake his head in disdain). I try to move to the inside to take advantage of this, but was not in the position to safely do so and instead see #889 Stephen Rue move around the outside and begin his ascension up the order toward his eventual win.

At turn 14, I get my Sergio on the brakes, and on the following lap do the same to #607 Jeff Keohen; I am now back into 5th place and running with the lead pack. We come up on slower traffic and I begin trying to utilize the opportunity to get around Micah, but he shuts the door on me at every attempt and is just a hair too fast. I come out of turn fifteen and cut my exit short to avoid Peter again, who is coming out of the dirt from when he ran off exiting the turn. Then directly next to me on the right side, #771 Sergio Fernandez leans his body off to the left and almost lays his shoulder on me. I quickly realize he was coming up on me fast and was going to get pinned behind the slower traffic on the right. Pushing his body over was a much better choice than steering into me or running into the back of traffic. I get caught behind slower riders, but am quickly coming back in the hunt, when Peter makes a nice tight turn on the inside of me in turn three.

We all begin trading positions as we work our way through the slower white platers, I find myself shuffled behind Peter again. He tries his dive-bomb line in turn nine again and once realizing there is no way he won't kill Fernandez, sits it up and narrowly avoids the accident. I try to use this to my advantage and get around him before a turn but am only able to poke a wheel to his outside while running down into turn ten. I didn't even want to think about trying to be to his outside in this turn after what I saw earlier, and backed off with the intent to pass on the brakes on the inside going into turn fourteen. But, Peter took care of this issue himself and wrecked in turn eleven again, right in front of me.

I'm now in 5th, make a great run down the backside and into turn fourteen, leaving me right with the pack and almost able to touch Fernandez's back tire. Fernandez lights up his rear tire at the apex of turn fifteen, forcing me to check up, run out wide, and get a little wobble; killing my drive. I put my chin down and do my best to stay ahead, but Fernandez is quickly accelerating by me like he was trying to go back in time. I ended this interesting race in 5th place, just behind Fernandez.


https://contour.com/stories/may-13-2012-afm-r2-thunderhill-600-superbike


Formula 1(N)

By the time formula 1 rolled around, I had already begin to worry about the three presentations I had to do on Monday morning. My mind wasn't where it needed to be, I had been riding slower than normal for thunderhill, and was a little annoyed that I keep losing the podium at the very end of my races. But I said it earlier in the day and I still felt it to be true, formula 1 would be my race.

The flag drops and I find myself in 4th behind the usual suspects in turn one. At turn ten I was able to sneak in the inside on the brakes underneath #644 Travis Trevethick into 3rd place. The possibility of winning began to enter my mind; I felt as happy as a puppy with two penises at this point. I reminded myself that this was only the beginning of the race and I still had a ways to go. I gathered myself and focused on the next target, #424 Sergio Sanchez-Chopitea. We had some close racing this whole weekend, and because I was behind him more than he was me, I felt I had the advantage in the strategy department ... but then we hit the front straight. I soon began to remember exactly what was happening to me all day as Travis comes by like a bat out of hell.

I try to use every advantage I have in the turns to the best of my abilities and go around both Sergio and Travis on the outside of turn two, only to see Sergio power back getting to turn three. I chase Sergio around the track until we get to the crest of turn nine where my bike retaliates in anger for pushing it beyond its means. The handlebars violently slam from side to side and the rear bucks me right off the seat. My feet dismount from the bike and almost get sucked under the bike while I land back on the seat. I am in shock, but am thankful it wasn't worse. I try to dismiss it as quickly as possible, but it stays in my mind for a few more seconds.

In the meantime, Sergio has pulled away and I had to reel him in. I get by him on the inside of turn fourteen and do my best to find a line which is a combination of a block pass and a line for the maximum drive, just in case I need it later. This line was not too bad, I held my lead over Sergio and Travis down most of the straight, but they both still beat me at the line. I was going to need more entry speed to carry into fourteen if I am ever going to keep them at bay going into turn one or a run for the checkered flag.

We continue to battle until the very last lap, when I get the the drive of my life coming out of turn thirteen and run around the outside of Sergio, putting me in 3rd place. By the time I get to the bridge, Sergio has not yet passed me and I assume he has decided to try and beat me to the line. I hold a mid-track entry to block any pass attempts into fourteen and hope to get a drive like the one I used earlier to pass; now that I am ahead rather than behind, it should give me just enough to hold him off until the line. But I go in a hair to hot, leave the door open underneath, and Sergio runs away from me. I scream at the top of my lungs, leaving me in 4th place ... without my unicorn.

https://contour.com/stories/may-13-2012-afm-r2-thunderhill-formula-1