Race Report 2006 - Round Three - Assen, 5th-7th May 2006

(Just catching up on posting these...)


Race Report 2006 - Round Three - Assen, 5th-7th May 2006

When the idea of doing an overseas round was floated last year, there
was quite a lot of excitement about it. When we were told that talks
were being held with the Dutch Ducati Club about holding it at Assen,
nobody thought it would be possible - you just don't get to race at
Assen unless you ride in an international series!

I have to admit that, at first, I wasn't going to be part of the group
heading over to Assen, as my pit bitch Mark was already booked as busy
that weekend and I didn't fancy the prospect of such a long drive by
myself with the trailer. However, a phonecall from Chris Bushell and a
chat with team-mate Eric, and they both managed to convince me that it
was an opportunity not to miss. So I filled in the forms and sent them
off, Eric arranged to take my bike in his van as he had plenty of room,
and booked all the ferry tickets and accomodation for me - all I had to
do was wait to be picked up!

Not much happened in the run up to the weekend away, and I was still on
a high from my third place at Brands, and also being fourth in the
championship was setting me up for some good results this season
already. Assen would be another great round because nobody had ridden
there before, and we would all be doing a trackday on the friday
consisting of a couple of 20-minutes sessions on the track, then
practice and qualifying sessions on the saturday, with the race on the
sunday. This was all part of the Dutch Ducati Club's Assen weekend, the
highlight of their calendar. It was a weekend of pure Ducati related
mayhem; trackday, racing, shows, drinking, autojumble - the whole lot.

We didn't touch the bike at all, except Mark changed the gearing to
what we thought would be good for Assen - roughly the same as Cadwell
Park with its long straights. The new hairpin at Assen was the subject
of much discussion, as there was no footage of the track with this new
section, probably because it was still very early in the season. Mark
did manage to find some clips online from the Motors.TV website (of the
tv channel) which included an onboard lap. I saved the video and
watched it a few times, but it really didn't give me the sense of being
there and so it would be a case of getting out and riding the track.

I had completely forgotten about trying to fix the seat pad from when
it fell off at Brands, so I left it strapped to the bike with duct
tape. I decided to replace the airbox screen (we don't run a filter,
just some mesh over the top) as it had become split in a couple of
places. When I took the screen off, I found the bolt from the yoke that
we lost at Brands, wedged next to the inlet trumpet! That was a close
call, as it would have destroyed the engine had it dropped down the
inlet! I bought some mesh from B&Q for a fiver and shaped it around the
airbox then lock-wired it in place, making quite a good job of it. The
mesh was quite a bit thicker than the previous stuff and the holes
larger too, so it would be stronger and might help with power too.

Eric arrived on the wednesday night, and we loaded the bike into his
long-wheelbase van. There was plenty of room for both his bike and mine
because of the size, and we filled the rest of the van with all my
tools, spares, seats, camping table, cooking equipment, more spares and
anything else that we may need for the weekend. Eric's 996 riding
cousin and DSC member Roger would also be coming along, and DSC members
Ruth and Simon, making five of us in total. Eric and Simon would be in
the van with myself, Ruth and Roger in Ruth's car.

The plan was for Ruth to pick me and Roger up on thursday afternoon, as
he lives about a mile away, then for us to meet Eric and Simon in the
van somewhere down on the M25 on the way to Dover and our ferry
crossing over to Dunkirke, and drive the rest of the way to Assen.
Hopefully we would arrive in the early hours of Friday, get some kip in
the car/van and then be ready for the two trackday sessions on the
friday afternoon.

I had booked the friday off work and finished early on thursday, so all
I had to do was pack a bag of clothes and toiletries for the weekend
and wait for Ruth to arrive. We were running a bit late when she turned
up, having dinner with the kids, so she came in and sat with us while I
scoffed the rest of my food. I said my goodbyes to the wife and kids,
and got into the car with Ruth to guide her to Roger's house just up
the road. We were running about half an hour late by this point, but
Roger was only just ready himself anyway. He jumped in the back and we
headed off down the A12, hoping that the traffic wouldn't be too heavy
as it was getting on for rush hour and we were heading into the thick
of it.

Luckily for us, the A12 was quite empty heading towards the M25, as
most of the traffic was heading in the opposite direction with quite a
few patches of stationary traffic. We got to the M25 without problems
and I gave Eric a call; they were a junction in front of us, so we'd
hopefully catch them up quite soon. The traffic was heavier as we got
to the Dartford crossing, and I was trying to spot Eric's van but
without luck. We went over the Dartford bridge, through the toll and
headed on down to Dover and eventually caught Eric up along the M20. We
then sat in convoy all the way down to Dover where I had to hop out and
jump in the van with Eric and Simon to go onto the boat, as that was
how we'd booked the tickets.

We were loaded on board quite quickly and all headed off to the bar to
start our first foreign race as we meant to go on - with plenty of
beers! I was surprised at the relatively luxury of the ferry, as most
of the ones I'd been on are the sea-going equivalent of cheap flights
abroad. We had a couple of beers and sat watching the sea go by, then I
went for a wander round and stretched my legs. I don't mind ferries
now, as I've been on quite a few and mostly on biking holidays to
France, but the first few times I'd always been really sea sick. It
must be one of those things that you get used to, and after quite a few
trips you never notice it again.

It was around 11pm by the time we arrive in Dunkirke and adjusted our
watches to local time, and we still had many miles to go. Ruth had
swapped with Roger for driving duties, but I stayed in the passenger
seat as navigator, although that duty just consisted of keeping the
car's radio tuned into my iPod's radio transmitter, and making sure
that Roger didn't fall asleep at the wheel. All we had to do was follow
Eric's van, as he had sat nav, and we'd be fine.

The drive was very long. Very long. The roads were all motorway and as
it was dark you couldn't even view the scenery. I chatted to Roger and
we listened to the iPod. We stopped for petrol at a Shell station
somewhere in Belgium around 2 or 3 am and had some coffee to keep us
awake and also for a pee break. That was about the highlight of the
whole drive.

As it got light, around 5am, we started to get very close to the
circuit. We didn't see any road signs, and the sat nav didn't know
where the circuit was, so we just followed the signs for Assen and
hoped that it would lead us there. We ended up on the outskirts of
Assen, and then spotted the road signs and started following them to
the circuit. There was no traffic around and it was getting lighter,
but as we arrived at the circuit we saw lots of other cars and vans
parked outside the circuit office. Nobody was allowed into the circuit
until 7am, hence the informal car park of people trying to sleep. We
parked up and Ruth swapped seats with me so I could get comfy in the
back of the car. Luckily there was a pillow so I got comfy and then
pulled a blanket over my head and managed to get about an hour of
sleep.

We were woken by the sound of engines, as everyone started to move
their cars, vans and bikes into the circuit now that it was open. I
found the papers needed to sign on in the bottom of my bag, and we all
headed over to the office to get our tickets and passes that we would
need. The guys at the counter were all from the Dutch Ducati Club and
spoke better English than some English people I know. We were soon
signed in with all the passes that we would need and even a souvenir
t-shirt (although it was yellow!).

We drove into the paddock area at Assen and the first thing that we
noticed was how big the whole paddock areas was, and the fact that it
was all block paved. No dodgy tarmac or muddy grass, but proper block
paving - luxury! We drove around and found some of the others, then
made a space for ourselves to make our camp. We started to unload
Eric's tent, which was a massive family camping thing with seperate
rooms, but everyone was suffering with putting them up as it was quite
windy.

While getting the kit out of the van (and avoiding helping to put the
tent up) I spotted a box of long screws. This was no surprise as Eric's
trade is in supplying double glazing, but I thought we could use them
to hold down the tents. I took the screws out to the tent, along with
my cordless drill, and set about whizzing some into the gaps in the
bricks to use as anchor points for the tent. This worked a treat, and
soon the word had spread and people were coming to borrow the box of
screws to secure their own tents and awnings down. So when you hear
that we screwed the whole paddock, you'll know what it meant!

Once we had the tent up and all the camping gear sorted, we all went
off to find some breakfast. The cafe in the paddock, which was part of
the grandstand, was open so we went in there and got some coffee and
rolls - no cooked breakfasts unfortunately! After that, Eric and myself
went back to the tent while the others went for a wander. Eric had a
snooze in one tent compartment and I tried to sleep in the other, but
it was so hot that I couldn't get to sleep. I had a wander around the
paddock and dropped in on all of the other DD racers that had arrived
and were either unpacked or unpacking.

Our first session out on track would be just after lunch on friday, for
20 minutes. None of us had been to the track before so we didn't know
what to expect. We knew we had to take our bikes to scrutineering, and
that there was a noise test too. I had bought some "db killers" for the
bike and fitted them (badly) into the cans. It certainly was more quiet
with them fitted! I spoke to some of the others who had already been
through and they were checking the noise on the bike, then having a
quick look at the bike and then checking helmets only, so no need for
full leathers.

We took our bikes down to the technical control garage and queued up.
There were some really crazy bikes there, from monsters to superbikes
and lots of supersports. there was a really nice Sport 1000, one of the
new Sport Classics, in the queue as well, ridden by a rather attractive
lady with strange hair - it looked just like Cruella DeVille as it was
all white with a shock of black at the front!

Eventually we got to the noise test, and they revved the bike while
holding a microphone close by. Mr Microphone wrote something down on a
clipboard and stuck some stickers on my cans, then waved me through to
the inspection. Having been through a few scrutineering inspections,
the dutch were rather slack (he basically checked that the brakes
worked and it had a chain) but this was just the track day, so any
inspection was more than you'd get back in the UK.

Next was a helmet check, so I leant my bike against the wall in the
technical inspection bay and presented my helmet for inspection. The
Dutch guy didn't even take it out of the helmet bag that I had used to
carry it there, he just looked inside. And kept looking. And looking.
Whatever he was looking for, he couldn't find it! He finally said that
he was looking for a little orange tag on one of the straps that should
have an E-mark on it, but it wasn't there, and there were no signs of
one ever being there. He got out his pocket book, presumably the Dutch
equivalent of our ACU handbook, and showed me what he was looking for,
so I tried to find it but couldn't either. Just a sticker with it on
would have done, but there was nothing. I explained it was a UK helmet
- I'd bought it from new - and it had the BSAU standards sticker along
with the (correct, double-outlined) ACU Gold sticker on the back, which
was what it required for racing in the UK. He had another check over
and said he knew it should pass - it was an Arai after all - and that
it was late enough (it's a 1999 model, and about time I got a new one!)
to have the correct E-mark, but he just couldn't find it. He looked at
the book once more and at this point I thought he would fail it and I'd
come all that way for nothing or would end up having to buy a new
helmet, but he just got his sticker sheet out and said "I'll pass it
anyway but you should change it." and stuck the sticker onto it. These
Dutch really are more laid back!

We took the bikes back to the paddock area and then basically sat
around waiting until our first trackday session would be going out,
just after lunch. I gave the bike a check over and stuck the trackday
number board to the front of the bike, then just sat in the sun.
Finally it looked like the DesmoDue boys were getting ready for action
as the riders started pulling on leathers and getting bikes ready, so
Eric and myself got changed into our kit, started the bikes up and
finally rode through the paddock to the collecting area.

As we sat in the sun in the collecting area, I was trying to remember
the video that Mark had found, but at the same time I was telling
myself not to go too fast until I had at least completed two laps and
knew which way round the track went. We had twenty minutes on the
track, which would be about 8 or 9 laps, so there was plenty of time to
go faster, especially with another trackday session in a couple of
hours' time.

The marshall let us out onto the track, which we would have to ride
through the pit lane to get through, and it was a mixture of nerves and
excitement as I left the pit lane (there was a green light at the end!)
and finally out onto the track. The first thing that struck me was how
well maintained everything about the track was - wide tarmac with no
crack or reapirs, white lines that were actually white and all the
striped paint on the corners looked really fresh, although I guess that
because part of the track was new for this year, that may have helped.

The first corner is almost upon you as you exit the pit lane, but you
can see straight away that is is banked so can be taken a lot quicker
than you think. There's a short straight into what is the new section,
halved by a slight kink, where the fun really starts. First is a big,
double-apex right hander that comes back on itself, before you are
thrown into an impossibly tight left-hander that is a decreasing radius
hairpin. We had been warned about this corner during the paddock
banter, as it was reputed to take no prisoners. If I had been a betting
man, I would have put my money on TP (#12) being the first one to test
the gravel in that corner, given his previous form. As it turned out,
it was a safe bet because as I came round the corner he was sat there
upto his ankles in gravel. Will the boy ever learn? Three corners in
and he'd already put it into the gravel!

Once out of the new hairpin and onto the back straight, there's another
slight kink but a good opportunity to give it a blast before you reach
a quick right which then switches into a long left before you reach a
90 degree right. This takes you onto a short straight before a 90
degree left, and then you're into a long right before the final run
home. A long straight with a very quick (flat-out) left hander brings
you round to the stadium and the right-left chicane and over the
start/finish line.

Although the track is very flat, it is Holland after all, there are
quite a few banked corners so the speeds are kept really high. The
track is wide and flowing, and the new complex is really very tricky.
Second time round the track and there are more bikes sitting in the
gravel trap at the hairpin! I slowly build up my speed without worrying
about what anyone else is doing, and concentrate on memorising the
sequence of the corners and the lines.

One more time round the track and this time I come round the hairpin to
see a safety car sat right on my line at the edge of the track! Without
even having time to wonder what the **** that's doing there, I've
tipped the bike over again and dodged round it with enough room to
spare. This looks like it's going to be a fun circuit to race on!

Before long it's all over and we're being directed back into the pits.
I ride back to our paddock area trembling with excitement and the
adrenaline rush, and luckily Roger and Simon are there waiting to help
us with the paddock stands. With the bike on the paddock stand, I spin
the back wheel round just to check the wear pattern, but to my horror I
see something shiny and metallic sitting in the tyre. I grabbed a
screwdriver and gave it a poke, only to find it was the head of an
allen bolt. Oh ****, now I've got a bloody puncture! I levered the head
of the bolt out and could see that it had chamfered off at 45 degrees
as the air started rushing out of the tyre. Then got a pair of pliers
and started to pull it out ... and pull ... and pull ... and pull; the
thing kept on coming! The bolt was a good 60mm long and an M5 size, so
it was not anything from my bike. The tyre had completely deflated and
there was less than two hours before our next session, so I set about
getting the wheel out and hopefully a new tyre.

Luckily there was a Pirelli tyre van one block over from our little
paddock area, so with the wheel out I took it over to him to see if he
had a replacement. Speaking perfect English, he said he would check and
disappeared into the back of his van. He came back with a glum look -
no match. He could do me something else in that size, but we have to
run Pirelli Diablos, so I was screwed.

I started to walk back to our paddock area when I passed Michael (#22)
who was then coming out of his tent. He asked if I had problems,
motioning towards the wheel, and I explained about the puncture. "Do
you need a new tyre?" he asked, and then said that they had brought
over some supplies courtesy of Holbeach Tyres who are our usual
supplier. He said he'd get one for me and bring it over, so I went back
to our area and calmed down a bit knowing that my problem was now
sorted. Michael appeared a couple of minutes later with a tyre and said
that I would just have to call Holbeach when we got back to pay for it.
I took the wheel and new tyre back to the Pirelli van, and he fitted it
while I waited for the princely sum of €7 or just under a fiver in
real money.

The wheel with new tyre went back in without problems and I checked
everything to make sure it was all torqued and adjusted correctly
before giving the new tyre a wipe over with some brake cleaner. I'd
used this tactic before to get all the slippery stuff off the tyre and
it really does seem to work. Although there was still plenty of time
left for the next session, I made sure that there was enough fuel in
the bike, measuring it as I went, then went for a walk round the
paddock.

Over the other side of our little area, there was a flurry of activity
as TP's bike was being fixed from his first lap excursion into the
gravel. He didn't look too happy about it, so I ribbed him some more
just to make sure. It turned out that when the bike had dug itself into
the gravel, TP had given it a handful to try and free it but the chain
jumped the sprocket and had punched a hole in the crankcase, dumping
the oil. They were busy patching the crankcase with chemical metal much
to my disgust. The thought of a temporary bodge like this did not fill
me with confidence, especially as I would be on the same race track
with the bike, and the oil could end up all over me, my bike, my tyres
or the track and any combination of this could have me off with
possible injuries or even worse. I just made a mental note not to be
behind TP as the bodge gave way.

As I looked at the stricken bike and TP explained about the chain
jumping the sprocket, I noticed that they had an aluminium swingarm,
like on mine. However, they didn't have the adjuster bolts that stop
the spindle blocks from moving forward, so I pointed this out to
Graham, the bike's owner, and suggested that this may have been the
problem. If the spindle had slipped in the guide (because of no
adjuster bolt) then it may have moved closer to the engine, made the
chain loose and this may have been why it jumped the rear sprocket. TP
looked a bit astonished that the bike hadn't been put together
properly, but Graham found some suitable bolts and put them in place to
ensure that the blocks wouldn't move again. Lesson learnt.

By now it was time to go out again, and Eric reminded me to keep well
clear of TP just in case his temporary repair let go and dumped oil
everywhere. We headed out to the collecting area and sat in the hot
sun, slowly roasting in our leathers, waiting to be let out onto the
track. My plan was to again learn the sequence of the corners, take it
steady and build up some speed without doing anything stupid. And to
avoid TP, of course.

We sat in the collecting area for quite some time and there was a bit
of a commotion as someone pointed out that TP's bike was smoking quite
heavily. It was then pointed out that there was a puddle of oil
collecting underneath his bike and also all over the front tyre, which
was not a Good Thing. He made a sharp exit from the collecting area and
had to sit out the second trackday session, much to his disappointment.
It later turned out that the oil cooler had a small leak at the union,
probably caused by his earlier trip into the gravel, and would be
easily fixed for the practice and qualifying session the next day. Poor
TP wasn't doing very well so far and it was only friday!

The first couple of laps in the trackday session went well as I'd gone
out behind Ali (#7) and was just about keeping with him, but he must
have decided that warm-up was over and to up the speed as suddenly he
was off like a rocket and was pulling big distances on me at each
corner. He finally disappeared round the track so I had lost him
completely. I ended up keeping my speed up and learning the track, the
lines for the corners and what felt comfortable for me for the rest of
the session before the flag finally came out to end it.

With our two trackday sessions over, there was nothing left to do for
the rest of the day except sit around in the sun or fiddle with the
bikes. We didn't have any lap times so we didn't know who was fast or
who was slow, and no idea on what gearing anyone else was using either,
so we just packed up our kit into the van for security and put the
bikes into our huge tent, then all bundled into Ruth's car to find the
hotel we had booked for both friday and saturday night. The hotel was
only up the road from the track on the outskirts of Assen town, so we
found it quite easily. I was sharing a room with Roger and we walked in
to find a nice big double bed! We did a quick check and saw it was two
singles pushed together, so with a quick rearrangement of the furniture
we had two singles and a chair in the middle ... not that I didn't
trust him as he has more kids than me!

One quick shower and a change of clothes later and we were all meeting
downstairs in the lobby ready to hit the town for the night. By this
point, about 7pm, I had been awake since 7am the previous day with
about 20 minutes sleep in the middle, so was not feeling my best to say
the least. We jumped back into Ruth's car and Roger drove us into the
town. We found what we thought was the centre of town, probably because
there were hundreds of people milling about, and then found a
convenient place to park the car. As we walked back into the centre, it
was obvious from the booming music that there was something other than
the Ducati meeting happening in Assen that weekend, and when we got to
the town square we could see that it was packed full of people enjoying
some kind of open-air concert. The floor was littered with empty cans,
bottles and cups so we'd obviously missed quite a lot of it by this
point.

We carried on through the town to find somewhere to eat, and found a
nice little open square with a couple of bars with outdoor tables.
There was even a statue of what looked like a naked woman riding a
motorbike. The others where about to sit down at some empty tables when
I pointed out the international law of choosing somewhere to eat in a
foreign country - only eat where the locals eat as they know something
you don't. All of the other tables which belonged to a different bar
were full, but this particular section was strangely empty, so we moved
to the other section and sat at a table that was then becomming free.

The first order was, unsurprisingly, five beers and boy did it taste
good! We then had a look at the menu, which we had been given an
English version of, and I liked the look of the black tiger prawns.
Again, international law of eating foreign food dictates that seafood
is the worst option to pick if you don't want to run the risk of being
sick, but I love seafood and because the wife doesn't, the only chance
I get to eat it is when we go out to eat, which isn't very often, so I
wasn't going to let that stop me. Simon ordered the same, and I chose
something unforgettable for main course, and we sat back and enjoyed
the scenery and got tucked into the bread.

When the black tiger prawns turned up, they looked very appetising but
also very uncooked. I checked with Simon and his were the same, so
maybe they were just supposed to look jelly-like and transparent? By
this point I really didn't care and ate them anyway, and have to say
that they were very good even after quite a few beers had numbed my
taste buds! The salad and dressing was also very good too. The main
course arrived and it was edible, from what I can remember at this
point, so it couldn't have been that bad. We passed on the opportunity
of dessert and had more beer instead, and the cost was split between us
all and was very reasonable too.

By this time it was nearly 11pm and I was feeling rather drunk, not
helped by the lack of sleep. We went back to the car, heading past the
(now noisier) concert, and ended up back at the hotel. It was decided
that more drink would not be a good idea so instead we all headed to
our rooms, having agreed to meet at 8am for breakfast, so I set the
alarm on my phone and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I awoke the next morning with the dull ache of too many beers, and the
sound of my phone alarm. It said 8am, so I swung myself out of bed and
picked up my watch which said 9am. Bloody hell, we were late by an
hour! I figured out later that I had changed my watch on the boat to
European time, and usually my phone does an auto-update to local time
when you switch networks (it always works when I go to San Fran) but
obviously it didn't this time. I shouted at Roger to wake up as we were
late, so we both went into panic mode and quickly got ready. We rushed
down to the dining area to find the others, but nobody was there. We
tried Eric's mobile but got no answer, so went to the front desk and
asked them to put a call through to the room, which was answered by a
very startled Eric, having been woken by the phone as he too had missed
his alarm, or failed to set it.

We saw Chris Woods (#10) and fellow Essex boy Dickie (#74) leaving from
the dining area to make their way to the track and had a chat with
them. Ruth also appeared as she'd been having breakfast with them after
our no show, and then Eric and Simon arrived shortly after and we all
jumped straight into the car and raced off to the circuit.

Arriving at the circuit in record time, it was filling up quickly with
lots of Ducatis and plenty of other makes of bikes parking up to watch
the day's qualifying. We would have a free practice session and then
our actual qualifying after this. We got kitted up and took our bikes
down to the technical centre again for the race scrutineering, and the
bikes passed again without problems. They didn't even check my helmet
this time, so no faffing about looking for labels! We got a little
sticker with some boxes on it which they would tick off each time we
went out. I also picked up a transponder, leaving a €127 deposit,
then made my way back.

Back in our paddock area we had to tape over our existing numbers as
the race program had most of us down with different numbers. This was
really annoying as it meant paying for some new number stickers for the
bike. I had been allocated number 26, so I went and purchased enough
stickers from a small stand close by in the paddock selling race
spares. Eric had been given number 11, and we formulated a cunning plan
to convert his number 69 into a number 11 by putting strips of white
tape in the middle. He bought a reel of white duct tape and got to
work, while I pinched some of it to cover up my numbers rather than
peeling them off - I had spent hours at the start of the season drawing
round a template that I had printed out (after spending hours finding a
font that I liked and getting the dimensions right!) to make my numbers
and I wasn't going to do all that again. With my numbers covered up, I
stuck my 26 over the top, and it worked a treat. Erics looked passable
too, albeit a little on the small side.

With our new numbers and the bikes fuelled and ready to go, it was
almost time to get out and practice. I got kitted up and we fired the
bikes up. By now, most of the DD bikes were leaving too, so we tagged
on to the back of them and followed them down to the collecting area.
At least we had been round the track enough to (almost!) learn it by
now, so we could go out and push hard. The sun was out and the
temperature was getting hotter, so grip would not be a problem. My new
back tyre was now nicely scrubbed in too, so everything was set to
hopefully put in a couple of quick laps in preparation for the
qualifying session in the afternoon.

Down in the collecting area I did my usual trick of pushing my way to
the front and sat behind Ali (#7) and Phill (#2) as they were bound to
put in some fast laps and hopefully this would give me a tow around the
track. As we were let out onto the track, it was pretty clear that Ali
was going for it from the off and although my usual style is to build
it up slowly, I went for it too and tried to keep behind him, but they
all disappeared before I'd even realised what was going on.

I was building up quite a bit of speed and getting some of the trickier
corners just about right but suddenly the yellow flags were out. As I
came round a corner, there was a marshall standing in a side road
waving a flag furiously at me, and point to my left and down the side
road. I thought this meant we were being taken off the track so I
slowed down and went down the road, but another marshall quickly
pointed out the error of my ways! I turned the bike round and rejoined
the track, but at the next corner I could see TP standing next to his
bike which was now propped up against the marshall point on the
infield, with large clouds of smoke coming off it; I guess it had
finally dumped the oil then.

The session didn't get stopped, so I started off again for the last
couple of laps (and was careful at the corner where TP was as the
slippery surface flag was out) before pulling back into the paddock as
our session ended. I was now happy that I knew the lines on the track,
but I was sure that this would all change in the race itself as the
pace always went up by quite a lot!

Back in the paddock I could hear Eric laughing under his helmet before
he'd even got off the bike. He said that he was going down the back
straight and into the corners when he suddenly realised that he was
sitting behind TP. After all he'd said about avoiding him, he'd done it
himself and was right behind him. Then he noticed the fine mist of oil
coming from the back of TP's bike, covering his visor. The mist turned
into smoke and TP then pulled off the track when he realised something
was wrong. We went over to see TP and Graham and the others in their
area, and TP was looking a bit miffed again but he started to tell us
the story. He said he went to put weight on his foot but it slipped off
the peg. He tried again and it did the same, so he looked down and
noticed his leg was on fire! He pulled off the track, rolled up to the
marshall point, jumped off the bike and leant it against the tyre wall
as they put his foot out with a fire extinguisher!

After surveying TP's bike, there was no damage apart from a lot of oil
everywhere, and they soon had the bike sorted again and he would be
ready for the qualifying session later that day. It was another oil
leak from a hose working loose rather than the repair to the crankcase
as we first thought it would be, but it seemed more like it was TP's
luck that needed repairing.

There were a couple of hours to our next session, which would be
qualifying, so I decided that I really needed more speed on the track
as it was really quite fast and some of the corners were just not
geared right, so I decided to change from a 43t rear sprocket to a 41t.
I dropped the back wheel out and swapped the sprockets over, as I
already had the 41t mounted up on the spare sprocket carrier, and set
about adjusting the chain tensioners. While I was doing this, it didn't
seem right, as the spindle seemed really far back. To check my sanity I
took the sprocket cover off and checked the front sprocket, which
turned out to be a 14t sprocket and not the 15t sprocket that I thought
it was! Mark had said that he'd put the 15t on the front for the
higher-speed circuit, swapping it for the 14t front we had used at
Brands. But if he'd swapped the sprocket then that means he'd put the
14t on and we'd used the 15t at Brands ... which didn't make sense!

I sat and thought about the sprocket confusion for a while and came to
the conclusion that we had accidentally left the 15t on the front from
Cadwell when we went to Brands. Our bike had quite a low red-line so we
always want to over-gear it anyway to make use of the midrange, and we
had run a 43t rear sprocket at Brands. This would mean more speed and
less acceleration - which is actually more preferable in the wet to
stop the rear spinning up. Maybe this little slip-up had actually given
me the edge in the race that I needed to get on the podium?

Without thinking too much more about it, I swapped the front sprocket
back over to the 15t front but then decided to go back to the 43t at
the rear, as I was now worried that going from 14/43 to 15/41 would be
too much of a jump and may well throw me completely. The rear brake
caliper was being a pain too, because each time you take the rear wheel
out the pads tend to drop slightly and jump out of the guides, which
then makes getting the disk and wheel back in almost impossible by
yourself. After a good ten minutes of sweating, swearing and jiggling,
the rear wheel finally went back in and I went through the alignment
and tightening procedure to make sure that the wheel was in correctly.

Finally the bike was ready so I wandered over to the other side of our
paddock area to chat with everyone else, but there were lots of DD
bikes being pushed around and queueing up for some unknown reason.
Charlotte, Dr Alan's other half, came over and said that all the bikes
were being photographed as part of the feature that was being done on
the DD race by our guest rider, Dale Lomas from Performance Bikes
magazine. She said that I should get my bike over asap and get the
photo taken, so I went back, told Eric what was going on, and we both
pushed our bikes round. Ruth carried the paddock stands and we waited
for our turn then pushed the bike into the same spot as all the other
photos were being taken and popped it onto the paddock stand. I stood
back while the photographer took a couple of quick snaps and it was
done. We waited for Eric's bike to have it's photo taken, then Ruth
carried the paddock stands back for us as we pushed the bikes back to
our area.

We sat in the sun, drinking plenty of fluids as it was now getting
quite hot, and discussing tactics for the race as well as gearing;
basically shooting the breeze until it was our turn to go back out
again. Eric was contemplating changing his gearing but didn't want to
mess up his qualifying so he decided to stick with it for now. Soon the
rumble of Ducatis filled our little paddock area as the bikes around us
were fired up for our qualifying session, so we did the same and pulled
on helmets and gloves ready to head back down to the collecting area
for our last session out on the track before the race tomorrow. My plan
was to again get some laps of the track in to ensure qualification,
even if only from the last spot on the grid, and then go for it and put
in the best time I could before the session ended.

The qualifying session went well with nothing remarkable to report, I
just got my head down and went as fast as possible. I tried to hook up
with some of the faster people to give me a tow and got stuck behind
some of the slower people at some of the corners, but it was pretty
much a good qualifying session, eventually ending up with a 2m 16s
laptime which was still some pace off the front runners, and gave me a
grid place of 13th and on the 4th row, but that wasn't too bad for my
first time at the track. Eric had qualified in 11th place and on the
third row, along with Dickie in 12th and TP right next to me in 14th
place. Right in front of me was Dale from PB on the guest Multistrada,
who would make a very good target for the race. What I really need to
do is to get past Nick, as we were joint 4th in the championship, and
he's in 8th place on the grid, so not an impossible prospect.

Back in the paddock area Eric was already back and not looking too
happy. His bike had started to miss gears out on the track and
eventually jammed in fourth, so he had to pull out from the session. I
said that this was not uncommon as the selector forks on these engines
were known to work loose, especially under race conditions, and they go
out of alignment. We called over Dr Alan and he confirmed our
suspicions, telling us to whip the gear-side cover off and have a look,
as it would be obvious to see. So we got the bike up on the stand and
Eric and Roger set about removing the fairing and dropping the oil to
get the cover off. With the cover off, it was plain to see that the
selector had indeed jammed, so Alan helped to loosen it off, reset the
selector and make sure it was all ok. Eric and Roger then reassembled
the bike and Eric gave it a quick whizz round the paddock to confirm it
was ok. He also decided that he needed more speed in the race, so
changed his gearing to suit and I helped to align the wheel with our
super little laser tool. I too wanted more speed so I also swapped my
gearing out to my intended 15/41, got the rear wheel aligned and we all
gave a big sigh of relief. All that was left to do was pack the bikes
and kit away in the van for security and then head off to the hotel for
the evening.

We got back to the hotel and I had a quick shower to wash away all the
grime that seems to build up when riding the bike and working in the
paddock, even though I always wear latex/rubber gloves when working
with anything messy. I got changed into more suitable clothes and
wandered down to the reception area to find the others. We sat around
on some sofas in front of a really big TV, and then flicked through the
channels to see what was on. We ended up watching some BBC channel, I
think it was even BBC One, catching up with the news and weather back
in the UK. We sat and procrastinated for quite some time until everyone
arrived and then moved on to the bar to decide what to do for the
evening. The beers soon arrived in oversized mug-style glasses, and it
required all my will power to get the now aching muscles to lift the
glass to my mouth. We sat around procrastinating further about what to
do for dinner, before realising that we were all now pissed and it was
far too late to go anywhere, and also that the hotel restaurant would
be closing shortly. We moved next door into the restaurant section and
sat down at a table, at roughly 11pm, as the waiter hovered over us to
take our ordered as they wanted to shut the kitchen asap.

Thinking back to the previous night's disaster with the, possibly
deadly, un(der)cooked prawns, I threw caution to the wind again and
ordered the Red Snapper on a bed of Linguine - how hard could that be?
Maybe the beer had befuddled my brain a bit, and ordering more fish was
not the best thing to do, but sod it. We drank more beer and visited
the salad bar, which was amazingly well stocked, and waited for the
food to arrive.

When the food did arrive, it looked pretty damn good so I set about
tucking into my Red Snapper. I tried to lift the delicate flakes from
the steak, but it was having none of it. I then tried using the knife
to prise some meat away, but still it remained stuck firm, much to the
amusement of everyone else around the table. The damn fish was so tough
that it was almost impossible to cut it up, let alone eat the damn
thing, so I gave up trying and polished off the pasta instead, which
was simply perfect and it would have been a good meal without the
rubber fish on top! We finished off with a coffee and then headed back
to the bar to carry on drinking but after another pint mug, I really
couldn't stomach any more so headed off to bed, and was asleep before I
hit the pillow.

We were woken by the sound of the alarm on my phone in the morning,
which was a relief as I really didn't want to miss breakfast this time!
We didn't have to be at the circuit until late because all we had to do
was race and that wasn't until after lunch, but it would be good to be
at the track, have a wander around and watch some of the racing. I met
Ruth in the breakfast queue, and we sat down at a table. I wasn't too
sure what was going on as our rooms weren't supposed to include
breakfast, but there was no way of paying at the door, and the staff
didn't seem to care, so I kept quiet and helped myself to some cereal
and coffee. I really didn't fancy any of the cooked breakfast, probably
due to part nerves and part hangover. Roger arrived shortly afterwards
and then Eric and Simon finally made an appearance too. After breakfast
we packed up our kit from the room and went down to the reception to
settle the bill, which was surprisingly cheap, before jumping into the
car and heading back to the circuit.

As we got closer to the circuit it was obvious that this was the main
day as there were bikes everywhere. We had to join the queue of traffic
to get into the circuit, but were quickly through the queue at the gate
as soon as we showed our circuit passes. We squeezed the car back into
our parking spaces and unloaded the bikes, put the kettle on and got
the chairs out to sit in the sun and have a cuppa, in true English
style. We had a wander round the paddock and had a look at the various
stalls selling various bits of Ducatis. I wanted to try and get my
young kids a t-shirt each as a present, but couldn't find anything for
them both and didn't think they'd be too impressed with a slipper
clutch (and it wouldn't fit their Barbie bikes anyway) so my cash
stayed firmly in my pocket. Roger picked up a pair of Dunlop tyres in
Ducati Superbike sizes for a stupidly cheap €60 (about 40 quid) which
he wasn't going to use himself but put straight onto ebay when he got
home...

The nerves were working quite well by the time it came to lunch and I
really couldn't stomach anything except to nibble on some biscuits and
drink the powerade-type sports drink they were selling in the canteen
that was pretty much ok. I was starting a trend where I was getting
quite nervous on the morning of the race, enough to put me off eating
breakfast and feeling quite queasy, which would subside as it got
closer to getting out on the bike. Once I was through scrutineering and
out into practice it would all be fine, but the build up was the worst
part. I think it may be because I was starting to get some good results
together and the pressure was on to continue this run.

The morning's racing had finally finished, signalling time for lunch,
and we would be the first race out after. There was a prize draw
happening over the lunch break, with Paul Smart giving away a brand new
Ducati 749. Second prize was *two* Ducati 749's ... only joking, I'm
sure the designer was very pleased with how it looks and how well it
has sold. I just hoped that I wouldn't win because I'd be sitting down
in the collecting area waiting to go out and race, and to be honest I'd
rather race at Assen than win a 749, although the second hand price
would fund a nice bike for next season. Anyway, we got kitted up and
rode down to the collecting area for our one and only race; the whole
reason we were here.

The grandstand was packed with people - the first time we had raced in
front of a crowd rather than just the usual friends and family crowd at
your average English club round. The paddock had been crammed and there
were thousands of bikes in the car park, giving it a real race weekend
feel which just made us all more excited. It was very hot in the sun
and sitting in the holding area. We could also hear the draw being
taken over the PA system and see it happening at the start/finish,
which was just around the corner from where we were. There were
photographers walking amongst us taking pictures, so I pulled my
(black) visor down a bit and tried to do my "thousand yard stare" face
at the same time, just in case.

Finally the track cleared and some grid girls, all dressed in Ducati
red with cropped tops and very short skirts, appeared from nowhere
holding numbers for the first two rows; talk about gutted that I hadn't
qualified any further up! The pit lane siren was going off as we
trundled down the pit lane and out onto the track, with the traffic
lights at the end of the pit lane showing green too - just like proper
racing like you watch on the telly. We circulated the track and the
bike felt fine, and I easily found my spot on the grid as there were
row markers at the side and numbers on the tarmac as well. I couldn't
help but stare at the arses of the grid girls though as we waited for
everyone to form up behind us. The grid girls slinked off to the side
and disappeared back to where they had emerged from (I didn't find it
later either) and the Dutch man with the flag at the front pointed to
the lights on the gantry overhead.

Now I was into auto-pilot race mode. Bike in first, find the biting
point, watch the lights. The lights went out and I went for it, but
there was a big flash of red directly in front as the guest Multistrada
made a leap for the sky, it's front wheel easily clearing everyones
heads. It was almost vertical as I swear I saw the Shell sticker on the
front mudguard from two rows behind. Luckily it didn't put me off,
although I did think back to my very first race at Cadwell when Chris
Butcher had done the same thing and landed on TP, taking him down with
him. As TP was next to me, I wondered if he was having second thoughts
as well! No time to worry about it as it gave me an opportunity to get
past and would open up a big hole in the field as well. I dashed into
the gaps, past the still wheelying Dale, and into the melee of the
first corner.

The first corner is always a battle of wills and he who brakes first
loses. Sometimes it can be elbows and knees as well, as people push in,
through, around and any which way they can to get a better position. I
had got myself comfortably into a nice spot and defended it well as the
pack thinned out for the slight kink before the complex and *that*
hairpin. I quickly counted the bikes in front and I was well into 5th
place at this point, so I had recovered well from my poor-ish
qualifying. The front runners were made up of the usual suspects of
Domski, Ali, Kyle and Andy Johnson. I knew there would be others
breathing down my neck at this point but I kept it smooth and as
flowing as possible.

We entered into the hairpin in a pretty relaxed way as nobody really
wanted to test themselves this early in the race. We all exited the
hairpin without much fuss and the charge was on for the next set of
corners. I was outbraked into the next corner by Ian Leah, and he set
off in hot pursuit of the bikes in front which were still pretty close
at this point. The changes to gearing were working well as nobody was
pulling away from what I could see, but they were holding a much higher
corner speed than me and that was their advantage. Into the series of
rights round the back of the track and I could feel my toes touching
down as I was in the corners at some pretty extreme (for me!) lean
angles. I made a mental note to try and turn the bike quicker and keep
it more upright for more clearance, but easier said than done.

Into the last section before the long straight to bring us back into
the stadium and Phill came up the inside on his Class B bike, the
cheeky monkey. Corner speed was everything and he was again carrying
much more than me, so had better drive onto the back straight. Even
though my bike was more powerful, he had the jump and I caught him back
up at the end and breezed past him, keeping tight to the inside as we
flip-flopped through the chicane and out onto the start/finish.
Although he was not in my class and therefore not part of my race, it
is good to keep these other bikes behind you as it makes it much harder
for bikes that are in my class to get to me and then get past me. Phill
came past me on the brakes at the first corner so I tucked in behind
him and followed him into the complex, taking a wider line through the
hairpin and getting it upright and on the power as quickly as possible.
I was alongside him halfway down the straight, purely to the extra
power of my bike, and thought that I had seen him off at the next
corner, but he was about 10mph quicker than me into it and easily
nipped up the inside of me into the left handers. This time he was wise
to getting the jump on me down the straight and went even faster
through the double-apex rights leading up to it, so I had only just
caught him up as we braked for the chicane, and he was holding the
defensive line for it.

As we crossed the line, I noticed that there was a counter at the side
of the track showing how many laps were left. This was a great help as
I could never remember which lap we were on and Mark was not here to do
his magic with the pit board.

Coming up to the first corner again there was a flash of red up the
inside as none other than Dickie made a very brave move on me. He took
the corner and held it nicely, keeping me behind him into the complex.
I closed right up round the next double-apex right before the hairpin
and took a very risky wide line in - if anyone had been right behind me
here they could have block-passed me into this corner - but it worked a
treat as although I was behind him I was upright and on the power
quicker than he was. As we exited the corner I was alongside and going
quicker, so I pulled right across in front of him to remind him who was
boss and hopefully upset him enough to keep him behind. Undertermined,
he came back again on the brakes into the next right which was the one
corner on the whole track that I really wasn't sure about, so I
chickened out first and he took the lead. I closed up again on the
lefts and into the right before the short back straight, then
contemplated a nice little block pass on the brakes into the next left,
but it was spoilt by a marshall standing at the side of the track
waving a red flag.

We both slowed down, and got ready to stop if we were instructed, but
we carried on round the track onto the back straight where we were
waved off down the pit lane. We had no idea what was going on at this
point, as we'd only done two laps, so didn't know if we'd restart or
not. The front pack were missing as we arrived into the pit area, so I
thought that maybe they'd wiped each other out fighting for the lead,
but as we sat there they appeared from behind and rode up to the front
of the pack. Nearly all the bikes were in the pit lane now, so we all
switched our engines off as it was obvious we wouldn't be going
anywhere for a while yet.

I looked around to see if I could spot anyone missing. Right behind me
were TP and Dale from pb, who seemed to be having a little chat about
something. TP suddenly got off his bike and while still holding it with
one hand, bent down by his gear lever. The reason for this became
obvious as his gear lever was dangling in the wind! The part that goes
onto the gearbox shaft had obviously worked loose, so TP was
frantically trying to put it back on and tighten the bolt (with a
gloved hand) before we went back out again. While this was going on,
one of the marshalls came walking down the pit lane holding a
triangular piece of metal in her hand, showing it to everyone in the
universal "is this yours?" kind of body language. It was obvious that
it was a chain guard, and I knew it wasn't mine as it was the wrong
shape and colour. Everyone else seemed to twig at the same time that it
wasn't theirs either, and all eyes fell on TP. At this point he had
gone past caring and didn't claim it so just kept quiet.

News filtered down the pack that it was Dom Clegg, a "new boy" on a 583
SS in Class B, that had taken quite a hard tumble into the gravel at
the end chicane, so they were carting him off to hospital and sweeping
up the bits. We had been waiting about ten minutes when another
marshall, obviously more senior as he had a beard and a radio set,
walked down the paddock showing us four fingers to, presumably,
indicate that we would now be doing four laps. We weren't sure if we
would be starting from our grid positions, or our positions in the
race, but we were being let out onto the track again so no time to
worry about that now.

Coming back down to the start/finish straight there were marshalls
waving flags for us to slow down as we approached the grid. It was
obvious at this point that we would be back into our grid slots that we
started in, which peeved me a bit as I was now back in 13th place
having been up in 6th, so I had it all to do again on the start. I knew
I was good at starts and I also knew that my tyres were a lot warmer
than the first start, so I just decided that I would go for it at the
first corner and let the others worry about it.

The marshalls cleared the track, so I put the bike in first and felt
for the biting point on the clutch, hunching myself down and as far
forward as I could to stop any wheelie. The red light came on and I
increased the revs slightly and concentrated on watching the lights.
The lights went out and I wound the power on as I fed the clutch out,
keeping the engine biting all the way and the front wheel down. Like a
shot I was off up the pack again, quickly passed Dale on the
Multistrada who was so carefull with his start this time that he nearly
stalled it, and right to the front of the pack again, swinging in front
of the rows that I had just passed to get to the inside of the corner.
As we approached the corner, people started backing off around me but I
knew that we were taking this first corner much faster, like in 4th
gear, the next time round, so I kept it pinned. There was a little
jostle from the inside as someone nudged my knee on the right, but they
were obviously braking as they didn't come past me.

Off we went again, forming out into a long, single-file snake compared
to the crush of the first corner, and round into the slow-ish
right-handers before the left-hand hairpin. As I braked to tip it into
the right, the silver bike of Ian Leah (#42) came up the inside and
took a place from me, then as I took it a bit too carefully round the
hairpin, Phill (#2) nailed it onto the straight to get the leap out of
the corner. I was catching him back up as we got to the end of this
middle straight, but he was far too fast into the corners and pulled a
big gap on me into the left-handers that followed.

Now that we'd settled down a bit, it was a case of trying to chase down
Phil and Nick (#34) who I could see in front of me. I needed the points
from Nick as we were very close in the championship, so I really wanted
to get past him to get as many points as possible, but at the very
least to stick with him, but I was soon getting tangled up in my own
little battle with the bike behind me.

As we crossed the start/finish, Phil had passed Nick and I could see
him in the distance, so I was trying to close him down as much as I
could, hoping to catch him by surprise. I entered the hairpin on my
usual wide line to cut back, when suddenly there was a white Monster
very tight to the inside of the corner. This pushed him very wide on
the exit, and by this time I was already upright and on the gas, so I
had the lead on him down the straight and into the right-hander at the
end. It was David Ainscough on the #9 (usually #93) bike, and he came
alongside me on the inside for the corner, but I braked as late as
possible and took the corner far faster than I ever had before to make
sure he didn't get the advantage. I could now feel him breathing down
my neck and all thoughts of catching Nick were gone as I had to
concentrate on keeping David behind me first!

I had read a lot about tactics in racing from various sources, like
block passing, fake braking and mid-corner blocks, but most of it gets
forgotten in the frenzy of racing. I got my head down and tried to
concentrate on going as fast and smooth as possible without making any
mistakes, and at the same time tried to be that little bit wider to
make overtaking that little bit harder, and hopefully make David think
twice before committing to a pass.

As we crossed the line David was still behind me, and it stayed that
way to the hairpin. I took my same wide line and hoped that David would
have learnt from the previous lap, but instead he was there again as I
tipped the bike into the corner. Just as on the last lap, he was out
wide and I was already upright and on the gas, so got the lead on him
again and this time placed myself a foot further over to the inside of
the corner to stop any attempt to come up the inside and block pass me.
Luckily this worked and this time David kept behind me into the
left-handers and all the way round the track to the back straight.
Exiting the back straight I was leaning further and further to the
point where I could hear and feel something grinding away, but at least
it was grinding away and not putting up any resistance, so I tried to
push it to the back of my mind and concentrate on the task at hand.

We crossed the line again and this time the lap counter was showing one
lap to go, so I knew that I had to keep David behind me at all costs.
Nick was off in the distance and there was no chance now that I could
catch him, let alone get past him in this last lap. Into the right at
the end of the start/finish straight and I swear that I could feel
David right along side me but just slightly behind, and that was where
he could stay. I tipped the bike in and made the corner, opening the
throttle as quickly as possible and into the series of rights before
the left-hand hairpin. I thought about taking the inside line this
time, to block David, but then thought that it may have been his plan
and he would go wide and be up the inside as I had done for the last
two laps. So I stuck with going wide as this was definitely the better
line, but sure enough David was there again, taking the "fast in - slow
out" option. Again it pushed him wide but he started to pull back
across right as I got up alongside him and I had to move more than I
wanted to in case we touched. We were now neck and neck into the
right-hander at the end of the short straight, the one corner that
people were going past me on and I just couldn't get right, and David
had the inside line. At this point I knew he would either block pass me
into the corner, or cock it up completely by going in too hot
(expecting me to try and claim the line) and either run wide or
(hopefully not) come off the track and/or bike. So I decided to sit
behind him and to see what happened, and pick the moment that I wanted
to go past him.

David took the line into the corner and was in front of me by a matter
of inches as we tipped into the left-handers. I closed right up on him
as we approached the right-hander that leads onto a short straight, and
nailed the throttle on the exit to try and drift alongside him at the
straight. My plan worked and halfway down the straight I was on the
inside for the next left and so had the run into the corner. It didn't
need a block pass as David couldn't ride through me - at least I hoped
he wouldn't! - so I took the corner as quick as I could and kept the
power on to the last double-apex right-hander before the long drive to
the chicane and the start/finish. I tipped the bike in, again scraping
whatever it was along the track, and had my line down perfect through
the corners. I was on the throttle and tucked in behind the screen,
using the bike's fairing to full advantage to get upto speed. Over the
side road, and the dust at the edge of the track, to take the kink
before the last left and I didn't back off the throttle at all, just
leaned it right over. Luckily this pushes you wide for the next corner,
but it's a right-hander into the chicane so sets you up ideally for it.
I braked as late and as hard as I could for the chicane. I could feel
the front wheel skipping over the tarmac under the braking force, but
it felt perfectly controllable. Finally I tipped it into the right-left
flick of the chicane and was out the other side and across the line to
take 7th place in class. I could now afford a look back and David was
right behind me, grinning inside his helmet as I gave him the thumbs up
for a great race, and he returned the compliment.

As we came round the back section, all of the marshalls were out on the
track waving flags and clapping, so we gave them all a cheery wave and
thumbs up back. We caught up with Dom who was coasting around the
track, waving at anyone who would look at him and as I pulled alongside
he put up one finger to show he had finished first, so I gave him a pat
on the back and the thumbs up too to congratulate him. By the time we
got round to the chicane, the flags were out and we were being waved
off the track and down a side road off the circuit. In the side road,
which led out into the paddock, there were marshalls collecting the lap
timers and handing over envelopes, which contained the deposit for them
- a nice way of collecting all the timers to ensure they got them all
back.

I rode back to our paddock area, remembering that they drive on the
right over here as I met the first bike coming at me head on because I
was on the left, and when I arrived there was nobody there to help me
with the paddock stand so I had to sit on the bike until help arrived.
Eric was only just behind me, so he pulled along side and I held his
bike while he sorted out paddock stands for us both. Finally I could
step off the bike and my legs were still shaking from the adrenaline
and the sweat pouring off me. A presentation of trophies was arranged
just after the race up at the presentation stand, but we'd probably
already missed it and weren't that bothered either, so we stayed at our
tent to try and chill out a bit. I got out of my leathers and decided
to go for a shower in one of the shower blocks in the paddock; if only
we could have such luxuries at UK tracks!

After a long, cold shower and a change of clothes, we could finally sit
and relax in our paddock area and open the beers. I felt completely
drained from the whole weekend but it was such a great experience and
the track was awesome and well worth the 12 hour trek to get there. We
had a wander round the paddock to see the others and chatted, swapping
tales. I saw David who was chasing me in the race and he commented that
as he probably weighed half as much again as me he didn't think he'd
have a chance to get past, so was trying everything he could but just
couldn't make anything stick. We saw TP who still looked pissed off -
it turned out that on the warm up lap before the restart, his gear
lever had fallen off again, so he had to pull in to the pit lane and
sit out the race, watching it from the grandstand. Poor fella, I really
hope his luck changes for him soon.

The last thing to do was to pack the bikes and all the equipment back
into the van and head back for home. Our race had been quite early so
it gave us plenty of time to get home. Before we left we checked the
paddock area for any leftover screws, and just hoped we had picked them
all up. The long drive began and I tried to follow where we were on the
map but I didn't have a clue at all. Somewhere in Holland I had a call
from Hugh, a DSC member and fellow Essex dweller, who had pulled in for
petrol at a station somewhere in Belgium. His bike wouldn't restart,
and it seemed like the pump was not working as he couldn't hear it
whirr as it primed. I got his location and said we would try and rally
people round to get them to help out, and we could always shuffle
things about to get his bike in the van too if we couldn't get it
started. I phoned around the other riders who I knew were on their way
home, and put the word out that he needed help and gave his location.

By the time we arrived at the garage a couple of hours later, there
were already a couple of vans and a couple of cars in the garage with
people trying to get his bike working. We went over and had a look, and
decided we would try our tank-draining harness to test the pump. This
was just a cable with the right connector on it to plug into the tank's
cable, then a pair of crocodile clips to clip it onto the battery and
finally a switch to turn it on and off. This would continuously run the
pump, making it easy for us to empty the tank and measure fuel used and
so on. I rummaged in the back of the van and found it, then went and
hooked it up. The pump fired up straight away, so that meant it had to
be some other part that had gone wrong. Someone mentioned that it may
be the ECU, and as Hugh's Monster had the same one as mine, I went and
took it off the bike and we plugged that in instead, but on trying to
fire it up the pump still didn't spin. Everything else seemed to work,
so it suddenly dawned on me that it may be the relays, so I mentioned
this and we swapped over the two small black relays next to the ECU. On
switching on the ignition, the pump instantly span into life! To save
the hassle, I went and got the relays off mine as I put the ECU back in
the van, and we swapped out both relays and gave them to Hugh just in
case it happened again - at least one would be ok for a spare.

Everyone packed up their cars and vans at the garage as Hugh started
his bike again and got his leathers back on. Hugh said he would follow
us for a while and we could keep an eye on the bike in case it happened
again. We set off, having quickly stocked up on sweets and drink at the
garage, and carried on our journey home. Hugh followed us all the way
back to Ostend where he turned off to catch his ferry and we carried on
to Dunkirke to catch ours. Luckily, ferries are quite good with bikes
as there is usually always room to fit a bike onboard somewhere, so
even if you miss your crossing or you arrive early, they will squeeze
you on to the next boat out.

We arrived at Dunkirke, doing our seat swap again to make sure that
there were 3 in the van and 2 in the car to avoid confusion at the
ticket check, and got into the queue. We were nearly two hours early
and we thought that we'd been put into the "reserves" queue to be
loaded on if there was any room, but shortly after arriving the queue
started moving and we were loaded onto the boat. Without wasting any
time, we headed up to get something to eat, but were greeted with a
long queue mostly made up of other DD racers! The boat was certainly
not as luxurious on the one we had crossed the other way on, this was
more like a trucker's cafe. We grabbed a meal of chilli and chips with
a can of Coke, which made a nice change from uncooked seafood at least,
and sat chatting about the weekend. We wandered around the very small
bar area and had a look in the "shop", which was no more than a kiosk.
The ferry crossing wasn't long though, and we were all tired anyway so
it really didn't matter.

Back on home soil and it was dark by the time we rolled off the ferry
and started to make our way home to Essex. Ruth was dropping me and
Roger off in the car and Eric would bring the van over the next day to
unload everything as it would be midnight by the time we got home. I
crawled into bed just after midnight, making sure that my alarm was set
for 7am to get up and go to work the next day. If only I could do this
every weekend!

Current Standings

Qualifying: 13th. Best Lap: 2m 16.868s
Grid Sheet: http://www.mylaps.com/results/newResults.jsp?id=304991
Race: 7th. Best Lap: 2m 11.937s
Results Sheet: http://www.mylaps.com/results/newResults.jsp?id=306357
Championship: 5th on 101 points.


Picture links:
Some Pics: http://s53.photobucket.com/albums/g48/assen_2006/
More Pics (Pages 29 to 36):
http://www.rbphotography.nl/main.php?g2_view=core.ShowItem&g2_itemId=1282&g2_page=29
Even more pics (mixed): http://hansviveen5.fotopic.net/c952213_1.html
And more pics (mixed):
http://motorsportmotives.fotopic.net/c951017.html

Next Round: Castle Combe - Saturday 10th and Sunday 11th June

More reports at:
http://www.horrible.demon.co.uk/bikes/racing.htm

 

antonye wrote loads and loads of stuff

Shame on you.