Race Report - Round Two: Castle Coombe - Warning: Extra Long Again!

Race Report - Round Two - Castle Doom^H^H Combe, 4th June 2005

If the two 11th place finishes and 30 points from Round One were a high
in my career as a motorcycle racer, then Castle Combe was about to
become the low with which it would be judged by. The death of fellow
Desmo Due entrant and good friend Dave Harris the previous week after a
trackday incident had already been a real blow to all in the club,
especially those of us in the Desmo Due series.

The plan was to leave my place in Essex at around 1pm to miss all the
traffic on the route which would take us round the M25 and along the M4
into the wilds of Wiltshire and Castle Combe. I'd been to the track
once before, on a Subaru Impreza Driver's Club trackday many years ago,
and all I could remember was that it was a long way away. We might
arrive early, but at least we wouldn't be sitting in traffic.

The world's ropiest trailer had recently been treated to a new set of
studs and matching nuts to replace the rusting and somewhat suspect
(and missing!) ones in place, along with finally getting round to
fitting the mudguards, a legal requirement, that I had bought ages ago.
The bike was still at TecMoto being painted so there was nothing for me
to do upto the race except pack, repack, panic and wait.

Arriving at TecMoto, the bike had been painted a nice shade of silver
but had not been finished with it's coating of blue metal flake and
laquered for that true Imola replica look. I actually liked the matt
silver look it had along with the white number-boards painted on the
tail and front piece. It had the look of the Final Edition bikes about
it and the newly aquired carbon fibre front mudguard would also be a
nod to this too.

The bike was loaded onto the trailer and the freshly painted parts
placed carefully in the car to assemble it all back home. DesmoDue
prospect and DSC member Eric was also at TecMoto to collect paddock
passes that I had for him, as he would be coming along on saturday. He
had to rush off, so I said goodbye and set about getting the bike
strapped onto the trailer.

With the help of mechanic Mitch, we got the bike on the trailer and I
started strapping it down. Tightening up the main strap it suddenly
snapped! Luckily the bike was held down by the front two straps, but it
was a bit of a shock none the less. The strap was a heavy duty type too
- a load rating of something silly like 25 tonnes - but it looked like
it had previously worn and the fraying had been the point of failure.
Replacing it with another one from the bag, we had a chuckle and I set
off for home to meet Chi and get his bike on the trailer, before the
slog to Castle Combe.

Back at home Chi was already there so we set about unloading mine off
the trailer and getting the bodywork fitted. Chi also had a few
adjustments to make to his bike before it would be race ready, so we
both beavered away. We managed to get a bacon sandwich and cuppa
provided by the missus while working on the bikes, so at least we
wouldn't need to stop for lunch.

The kids were playing in the car when one shouted "Dad! I've broken
it!" and appeared at the open car window with the rear-view mirror in
hand. Not to worry, it'll just pop back on I thought. The BMW has a
metal clip arrangement to hold the mirror in place, so you should just
line it up and then press it home. However, the clip is a real arse to
not only line up but also to push home as everything is at an awkward
angle. Pressing a bit too hard there was an almightly crack and a
rather large spider appeared in the windscreen - four long cracks
radiating from the mirror mount point for a good ten inches. The
windscreen was already badly chipped and needed replacing, so this just
brings it forward a bit. You can't see much in the rear view mirror
with the bikes on the trailer anyway, I lied to myself.

Finally setting off at nearly 2pm we spent most of the journey
chatting, but it was just after junction 25 of the M25 that things
started going titsup. I noticed there was a car behind me flashing and
also a lorry on the inside lane too. I looked in the wing mirrors at
the bikes but they seemed fine. As Chi turned round he said that the
tyre had completely disappeared on the inside wheel! I pulled into the
hard shoulder and we both jumped out to check. Yup, there were indeed
just a few shreds of tyre left around the wheel, and I'd left the spare
at home...

Not believing what bad luck we were having already, and also seeing my
second race meeting disappearing rather fast due to not being able to
get there, I jumped back in the car to call out recovery. At that
precise moment, Eric called to see how we were getting on. "I'm in the
shit!" was all I could muster, but Eric took charge and formulated a
plan to get us out of it. The spare trailer wheels were back at home
and Eric, living only 15 minutes up the road, would head up there and
collect them. Then he'd bring them down, we'd change the wheel and be
away. We'd only made it three junctions round, so we weren't far away,
just stranded. Eric set off and I phoned the missus to let her know
what was going on, and went to let Chi know the good news.

Having nothing to do while sitting at the side of the M25, I realised I
should have brought my book to read, but it's the last thing you think
to take to a race meeting, especially when you're a competitor. Instead
we got out the folding chairs and, in our best Highway Code teachings,
went and sat up on the embankment out of the way of the lorries and
cars rumbling past rather close and rather fast too.

It's funny how different things look sitting at the side of the M25.
You think of it as a barren place of concrete grey, but viewing it from
the embankment with fields either side gives it a new perspective. We
sat and watched the traffic, noticing that our side was pretty empty
but the opposite carriageway was flowing, then stopped. Then it started
again for a bit, then stopped. There were loads of people staring at us
sitting there like we'd stopped off for a picnic, so we waved at them.
Lots of drivers waved back and gave us a smile or the thumbs up, so it
wasn't all bad. Soon bored with the whole thing, we started inventing
games based on types of cars driving past, but my hayfever started to
kick in amongst the grass and Chi was suffering too, so we folded up
the chairs and went back to the car. We got all the tools ready and
left them waiting to swap the wheel over for a good one.

Back in the car Eric phoned to say he was at mine but it was bad news -
one spare was flat and the other was perished! He was heading off to
find somewhere to get them sorted and would call me back. It was then
that the heavens opened and it really started to chuck it down. You
couldn't see more than 20 feet in front because of the rain, and
although I didn't feel comfortable sitting on the hard shoulder,
especially in these conditions, it was better than out getting soaked.
I put the hazard warning lights on just in case.

It was nearly 5pm when Eric phoned to say he'd managed to find a garage
that had trailer tyres and persuaded the guy to reopen to sort my spare
wheels. He'd got a new tyre on one and an inner tube in the other, so
we now had a replacement and a spare. He arrived under half an hour
later with the wheels, and luckily the rain had eased by this point, so
we both jumped out and set to work putting the wheel with the brand new
tyre on. This took under 2 minutes with the three of us - one on jack,
one to remove and the other to fit - so we thanked Eric for getting us
out of the shit and he would have to follow us to the next junction
before heading back, as he had to go that way anyway.

With our new wheel in place, we set off again at a slow pace to ensure
everything was working as it should. No sooner had we gone all of 500
yards when there was an almighty bang and the trailer went all
squirrelly! I pulled over to the hard shoulder again and we got out of
the car to take a look. Eric pulled up behind and jumped out and we met
at the trailer, only to find one very flat brand new tyre, with a huge
gash around the inside. The metal hook on the tie-down had been rubbing
against the tyre and cut into it like a knife, causing the second and
probably the first blow-out! Cursing our bad luck, we fitted the older
but tubed wheel and prayed that this one would hold out as we had no
more spares. We loosened off the tie-downs and turned them the other
way round to stop any more problems. That's one quick way to shred a
tyre!

Back on the road we waved goodbye to Eric and made it to South Mimms
services without incident. It was now gone 6pm and we'd spent the best
part of 3 hours sitting at the side of the M25 for one reason or
another. The traffic was light, which was surprising for the time on a
friday, but it must have been because of the school half-term. We
stocked up on petrol, food and coffee at the services, then set off in
earnest this time for Castle Combe.

The journey was long and boring but we chatted and the traffic was
moving so the time went by relatively quickly. Chi was playing with his
toy GPS system taken from his own car which, although impressive,
didn't have the location of Castle Combe track on it anyway, so it was
no more than an expensive paperweight. At least my £2 map from the
cheap bookshop had it on there, so we knew which junction we needed of
the M4 and it all passed incident free. Arriving at the M4 junction
with Chippenham, we turned off and skirted the town via the ring-road
and found a petrol station to restock supplies and fill the bikes and
petrol cans. We then headed back out to find Castle Combe and luckily
it was still light, even at 9pm but what felt more like 3 days later.

Arriving in the paddock we found the rest of the DSC, both riders and
groupies, and relayed our story of woe, much to their amusement. We
unloaded my bike and put it under the gazebo between Mike and Tony's
vans, then realised that we didn't have a stand for Chi's bike, which
was entirely my fault as I was supposed to supply one. We left it on
the trailer as Chi could carry on prepping his bike as it was - only
some holes for number boards and removing a couple of bits of
pointy-out subframe were required. By this time it was nearly 11pm so
we unhitched the trailer and headed off to our bed for the night,
generously donated by Chi's friend who lived in a nearby village.

This time the GPS was of some use as it got us to our destination
without fuss. Our host for the night was Darren, Chi's former boss and
good friend, who owned what can only be described as a very large house
in a small village. Stepping through the door it looked like it came
straight out of an edition of Country Home magazine (if such a thing
exists) and was all stone floors, fireplace and fitted kitchen. We sat
and chatted over a much needed beer before finally heading to bed at
gone midnight and some well earned sleep.

As predicted I woke up two minutes before the alarm went off and went
for a shower. Chi had been up since 5am and was already pacing about. A
gland at the side of his face had decided to swell up and he looked
like he'd been lumped round the head with a big stick. Outside at the
car he tried on his helmet and it fitted ok, so he would see how it
went in practice and make a decision then about racing. Our hosts were
still asleep so we left quietly and made our way back to the circuit.

Everyone at the circuit was busy moving to another part of the paddock,
taking them closer to the collecting and scrutineering area. My bike
was ready to go, apart from signing on and getting my transponder
fitted. This had to be done after scrutineering, as they mark your
entry card, so that was first. Noise is a real issue at Castle Combe as
many of the local residents complain about noise from the circuit. One
can only assume that these same people didn't think to check the
surrounding area before they moved there, nor do they have the sense to
go out on a race day. As such, Castle Combe is in real danger of losing
it's track licence because of a few idiots who want to spoil an
important and historic racetrack. Make sure you do all you can to help
and stop this nonsense from the whinging few.
http://www.racecarnewmedia.co.uk/castlecombeforum/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=135

Because of the noise issues, scrutineering at Castle Combe is extremely
tight and includes a noise test for 105dB @ 5,000 rpm. Anything over
this will fail and isn't allowed onto the track. Bikes are also checked
on the track, so anyone fiddling with their exhaust after the test will
also be removed from the track. I was getting worried as my end can had
been rebuilt since Cadwell park, and also made an inch or two shorter.
It was loud before and chances are it would now be even louder! The
last thing I wanted was to fail because the bike was noisy.

There was a massive queue for scrutineering by the time it opened at
7.30am and as there were no race engines allowed to start before 8am,
it was a case of pushing the bike there too. I also couldn't start the
bike to see how loud it was, so it was in at the deep end. You also
have to have your race kit (leathers, lid, gloves, boots) checked at
scrutineering, so pushing the bike in full leathers across the pits was
no easy task. Good job we had moved closer!

While in the queue your kit is checked, then you go through the shed
for the technical check of the bike, then finally out the other side
for a noise check. Having had my kit checked I sat on the bike and
decided to start it up anyway as others around me had done the same. It
was at this point that I noticed the throttle twist wasn't snapping
shut - a requirement of the ACU regulations. This had always been a bit
of a problem since rebuilding the bike as I'd never been able to get
the routing of the cables just right with the lower clip ons. No amount
of cable adjustment in the queue could fix it, so I paddled back to our
pit area and set about taking it apart.

The easiest route for the cable was over the the bar rather than the
current under, and this would also fix the problem of the cables just
touching the side fairing on full lock - which could be seen as a
failure at scrutineering if they were really anal. A few of the others
had routed their cables over the top of the bars, so I pulled the
throttle assembly apart and moved it round, noting which cable went in
which side of the pulley. Putting it all back together it just didn't
feel right, so I got fellow Essex boy and prospective Desmo Due racer
Martin to see what he thought. He agreed it didn't feel right, so apart
it came again and it looked like one of the cables had jumped the guide
when reassembling it. Back together and a quick spray of WD40 and
things felt much better. There was still some slack so I played with
the cables to take this out and get it snapping shut properly. Other
riders were coming back from the scrutineering, relaying their exhaust
scoring with surprise as a lot of them were below 100dB - one was even
96dB which would almost be road legal!

With the throttle now spot on, I rode the bike back to scrutineering
which was empty and coasted into the shed to get the bike checked. One
of the guys walked up shaking his head. He pointed out my numbers -
three lovingly crafted italic number ones, made from black electrical
tape - to another member of the scrutineering team and asked him if it
looked more like a vent to him than numbers. The other guy frowned,
looked and then agreed. "Sorry mate, it's failed!" he said. "Those
numbers look more like vents than numbers because they're slanted, so
we can't have that." Typical! I couldn't even get the bike failed on
something serious, just a poxy trivial matter like slanting numbers!
"No worries, it's only tape." I replied. "I'll just take it off and do
it again here if you don't mind." One of the other scrutineers came
from the side and pulled me close then whispered into my helmet "He's
taking the piss!"

The other scrutineers checked round the bike as the antagoniser came
over and laughed. I said I was in no mood to for jokes with the day I'd
had, not to mention the day before, and he was lucky I didn't belt him!
I then got a lecture on why it was not in my interest to go belting
anyone, especially the marshalls, as they'd just kick me out of the
grounds and possibly the club too. Having not seen the funny side of my
joke, I agreed and let it slide before I really did belt him.

The bike was fine, but it did fail on having plastic dust caps rather
than aluminium ones which has apparently been an ACU rule for a few
years now. As the scrutineer pointed out, the marshalls would be much
happier safe in the knowledge that the bike flying towards them at over
100mph had alu caps on it rather than plastic ones. They gave me my
scrutineering sticker and signed my card, then waved me off to the
noise test.

For the noise test, I had to hold the bike at 5,000rpm while they
tested the noise level from a certain distance. One guy watches the
revs while the other measures. The bike was cold and it doesn't run
right with the Dynojetted carbs, race filter and big-bore kit until
it's warm, so I played the "dodgy running" routine and kept letting the
revs drop as I inched closer to 5,000 on my tacho, never once holding
it in place. Just as I was about to hold it again, the scrutineer
tapped my arm and gave me a thumbs up, so I cut the engine. As the
tester came over with the clipboard, I asked what I had scored. "100dB
exactly" was the reply. Gutted! I could have had another 5dB on that
and still passed!

I coasted the bike over to signing on and met Eric and Chi there. Eric
sat on the bike while myself and Chi went into the office. I handed
over the final payment for the day and all my paperwork to get signed
on. Then it was next door to pickup a transponder for £10 to hire and
£50 deposit. If you lost a transponder, you not only lost the deposit
but also had to pay for a replacement which cost around £300 quid
each! I'd already fitted a clip from the previous round, so all I had
to do was slot it in place and I was ready.

Back outside and I took the bike from Eric then went back to the pits
to wait for our untimed practice session. Some bikes were already out
on the track so I knew that we wouldn't be long. Just as I got the bike
onto the stand and was about to fit the transponder, the call came out
for us to head to the collecting area. I chucked the transponder into
the boot of the car and Chi did the same as these are not needed for
untimed practice. We then jumped on and headed off.

I learnt my lesson last round that it's important to get out as early
as possible because the session might get stopped and you lose practise
time. I needed as much time on the track as possible, as I hadn't been
able to do a trackday here, so I was pleased to be only a few bikes
from the front for untimed practice. Sitting in collecting I started
the bike and adjusted the choke to keep it running. Then I noticed that
the choke cable had come out of the lever, probably because the light
switch cluster had been removed, and this helped keep it in. Leaving it
alone, I held the bike at the right revs to get it warm instead, and
put it down to just another thing in a long and growing list of
incidents for this weekend.

Finally out on the track, the bike wasn't running in the best of health
as it had done at Cadwell, but I put this down to it sitting at TecMoto
for the last four weeks and also because it hadn't fully warmed either.
After a few laps of building up speed and trying to keep with those who
I knew had been on the trackday, the bike was running fine so I thought
no more of it. I didn't want to go mad and do something stupid like
crash or fall off, so I concentrated on learning the track rather than
going fast, as that could come in timed practise.

We managed about ten, maybe less, laps and then the session was
finished, so I'd had a good look at the track, the bike was running
fine and I'd managed to stay on as well. As I came in to the pit lane,
a marshall held his hand up to stop me. "Oh ****, I bet I've failed the
noise test" was my first thought, but instead he reminded me that I
needed to fit my transponder for the timed practice session. Now I felt
like a proper racer leaving my transponder behind and not giving away
my lap times!

Back at our paddock area I got the bike on the stand and took the side
panel off to fit the transponder into the clip so I would be ready to
race. I did a quick bolt check - everything was still there and tight -
and checked the petrol and there was plenty in there as it had been
full for practice. It would easily last for qualifying too, then I
would check again before the race. I'd managed to do all this and Chi
had not returned, and I started to get worried. Finally Chi arrived
with a slightly bent bike. He'd over cooked it into a turn, ran onto
the grass and taken a tumble - all pretty much like his testing
trackday at Snetterton.

Martin and I checked the bike over and formulated a plan to get him
sorted as there was no real damage, but Chi's heart wasn't in it and he
sounded like he'd talked himself out of racing altogether. Not wanting
him to back out now without even so much as turning a wheel in a race,
I urged him to continue but he'd made his decision and for that he has
my respect. There's no shame in quitting when you've at least given it
a try.

It was fast approaching 9am and I hadn't even had dinner from the night
before, let alone breakfast so myself and Martin headed off up the
paddock to the cafe and got ourselves some bacon rolls and coffee. As
we walked back to our paddock area, Tony was pushing his bike back from
the track. He'd missed Desmo Due practice as he was having his tyres
changed, then run out of fuel in the Sound of Thunder practice after a
few laps. Muppet!

The tannoy sounded for the Desmo Due timed practice, so I put down my
coffee and jumped on the bike. I headed out to the collecting area and
sat behind a couple of the faster guys, hoping to keep tabs on them and
get a good qualifying time. As we got out onto the track, the whole
warm-up routine went out of the window with the front bikes heading off
into the distance at warp factor 9. I tagged along behind, watching
lines and braking points, trying to pick up some tips.

Qualifying went well and it definitely felt quicker than before, but I
was just losing out on top end because of my 15/43 gearing. There was
only one scary moment as I overcooked it going into the first chicance
and had to head over the grass. It was very bumpy but the bike stayed
upright and I just carried on back onto the track the other side and
off round the track again.

At the end of qualifying I felt happy that I wouldn't be too far down
the order, as not many DD bikes had come past me, just the odd
screaming two-smoke from our mixed grid. There were some seriously
quick people out there on these and I was happy that we were only
sharing qualifying and not racing with them.

Back in the paddock and the bike checked over, we found someone with
the results and I'd qualified in 13th spot - very appropriate for the
weekend so far! At least it was one spot up on the last round and at
1:30.04 it was just less than seven seconds behind Geoff Spencer on
pole and I knew there would be more to come in the race itself. Not bad
for a maximum of 15 laps round the track!

A couple of friends from UKRM turned up and we chatted about the bike
and racing. It was good to see Neal and Bear as I hadn't seen them for
a while and they're good friends. I made my changes to the gearing,
from 15/43 to 15/41 (which is actually standard gearing) as this would
give me the higher top speed but lose a touch of acceleration, which is
something you don't really need at this particular track.

There was buzz in the paddock and when the race was called, I headed
down to collecting and lined up next to Mike and Clint, the two fast
riders sponsored by Ducati London South. Clint had qualified in second
but Mike had let his form slip and was pushed back to fourth. A
marshall walked down the line and adjusted everyone's times as they
hadn't counted Tim's time as they thought it was for Sound of Thunder
rather than Desmo Due, so I got punted back one spot to 14th - same as
the last round.

As we were let out onto the track, it was a real mess trying to find
our grid positions as there were only marks for three per row and not
the required four per row, and no grid numbers either. I lined up where
I thought I should be and waited for someone to tell me otherwise. As
we were waved off for our warm-up lap, I did a practice start and got a
good getaway, then settled in to looking at the track again and
spotting the markers and anything that had changed since qualifying.

As we came round to line up again, the bike wouldn't go into neutral
and it felt like the gearbox was locked solid. Sitting on the line it
really felt wrong and I wondered if the chain was over tightened due to
me changing sprockets earlier, but there was no time now to check. I
think I had it into first and the clutch felt like it was slipping as
the bike wanted to pull forward.

As the lights went out I got an ok start and tucked in behind everyone
else, trying not to let anyone get past. I passed a couple of bikes in
front, but then coming into the first right-hand corner, the bike again
wouldn't change down. It completely messed up my braking as I spent too
much time trying to get it into gear rather than concentrating on what
I was doing. Andrew Roberts on #99 came up the inside at one of the
chicanes while I was too busy trying to find any gear again, and we
crossed the line with him in front but my bike pulled a lead on him on
the straight.

Back up to turn one and again the gearbox was having none of it, and
Andrew took me on the brakes as I couldn't slow properly. I carried a
lot of speed into the corner and stuck with him, then went round the
outside at the next corner as he went to dive up the inside of both me
and #77 Chris Butcher, but Chris shut the door and I went round both of
them. Chris out-dragged me to the next corner on his 620 and I couldn't
retake him on the brakes because of the gearbox again, although I'd
managed to get the bike into gear now with a couple of good stamps
every time I wanted to change.

On lap three Chris disappeared on the straight and went past Tim on
bike #21, and I was catching him up and had him in my sights too,
starting to reel him in while managing to hold off the others behind me
who were like the wolves baying at the doors.

As I exited the last turn on lap three, coming into the start finish
straight on a long right-hander, the bike was in fourth about to change
up into top gear when the front wheel tucked under. I reacted quick
enough and got it upright but by this time I'd run out of track and was
onto the grass. There was only one way this was going and that was me
sliding down on my arse. Again.

Having been ejected from the bike as it went down, I tumbled into the
hay bales and came to a stop in front of the marshalls. I picked myself
up and got off the track, leaving them to stow the bike safely out of
the way. Sitting on the grass bank, I took my helmet off and the
Paramedic checked me over. I'd taken a bang to my left wrist, and also
my right index finger which felt like it was on fire. I had no power in
my left hand, but didn't want to get sent to medical in case they
wouldn't let me race in the second race, so I gritted my teeth and
tried to cover it.

The bike was in pretty good shape as it had only gone down on the
grass, and all that it looked like it needed was a new clip-on and the
side panel putting back on where it had ripped out.

Eric was at the fence and when the race finished he pushed the bike
back to the pits for me. I explained the gearbox problem, but first
things first and Martin sorted the new clip-on while Eric did the seat
and fairing as I couldn't hold anything! The bike was quickly sorted
with a new clip-on and the fairing zip-tied back in place, so I rode it
round to scrutineering to get it checked over again, which it passed
without problem.

Riding away from the scrutineering I couldn't get the bike into gear
again and the clutch was slipping. I went and spoke to Monster guru
Alan (AK) and he said I'd more than likely killed the clutch with all
the power and the race starts! As the SS is a wet clutch and I had no
oil to refil the system if I drained it, this looked like the end of
the day but Alan said he had changed clutches before by laying the bike
on it's side to get the oil into the other side of the engine, then
take the casing off.

With the help of Ian (DSC's Il Duce!) and Henners, we got the bike on
it's side while Martin, Eric and Alan got to work on the clutch. Taking
the plates out proved very tricky as a load of the drive plates had
blued through the heat, and probably warped too. The inner basket was
very notched, and looked like it need to be skipped. Luckily, Paul
Payne stepped forward with a complete clutch which I could use as I
needed, so we set about replacing the whole centre assembly.

With a good set of friction and driven plates in, along with the better
inner basket, the clutch cover was replaced and the bike stood upright
again to check everything. The bike wouldn't start and although the
relay clicked in, the start motor was jamming. Someone mentioned
hydraulic lock, so a plug spanner was found and the plugs whipped out.
With everyone standing back, Alan thumbed the starter and a big jet of
petrol came six foot out of the vertical spark plug hole, with a couple
of more squirts for good measure.

With the blockage cleared and the plugs replaced, the bike fired up and
was a bit rough, but started running again. We got busy putting the
belly pan and fairings back on now that the bike ran, and eventually
everything was sorted.

Sitting on the bike I noticed that my left hand was starting to swell
now and I was getting a bit of pain. On trying to pull the clutch
lever, I could only just grip it, let alone pull the now stiff lever
in. There was no way I was going to even change gear, let alone race,
so I made the decision to sit out the next race as I would be a
liability to both myself and my fellow riders in this state.

Bollocks.

Two races and zero points. To say I was unhappy was an understatement
and I would honestly have tossed a match onto the bike and that poxy
trailer there and then if only I had been able to hold a matchbox
properly to strike one.

Stomping about the paddock, Duncan offered me some words of comfort,
along with a couple of happy pills, from when he faced the same
situation and injury from the first round at Cadwell. Now I know how
really pissed off he was. At least I had time to get some food, pack
away at leisure and visit the medical centre too.

The Doctor checked me over and found no broken bones. The nurse put me
in a triangular bandage to keep my hand elevated, so now I looked
proper crocked. This would only last as long as getting into the car,
as I still had the three hour drive home to do. I caught the last few
laps of the race but I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.

Back at the bike I noticed that the transponder was missing, so I asked
if anyone had taken it off. The mounting clip was missing too, so I
assumed someone had removed it when we were sorting the bike, but
nobody had. I went back to the office and asked if anyone had handed a
transponder in, but they hadn't. The only other place to try was at the
marshall's post where I had fallen off, and luckily this was right next
to the office. Near the end of the current race, one of the marshalls
came past so I asked if they had the transponder. He went over and
asked the same Paramedic who had checked me over, who then went and
rummaged in a bag and found it! He came over and said he'd tried to
find me in the paddock at lunch, but couldn't see me so was going to
hand it in. I took it back to the office and claimed my £50 deposit
back, and was thankful that the day's bill hadn't just gone up again.

We were packing the car away while the DSC results presentation
ceremony got underway, but I was too busy to take notice until Chris
Bushell grabbed me by my good hand and pulled me into the middle of the
crowd. I was presented with a "Best Crash" prize of a couple of packs
of heavy duty paper towels! Thanks guys! I quickly rushed off to sulk
again round the back and pretend to pack the car.

The journey home was long and boring, especially with an aching hand.
Chi went to sleep almost the second we got onto the M4 and woke just
before the M25, so I had the radio to keep me company, along with my
thoughts. I was pissed off at myself for crashing and not taking it
easier to get some points. I could have fixed the gearbox problem in
the break and gone out in race two and made some good points, rather
than chucking it all away. However, the gearbox didn't cause the fall
so that may have happened anyway, going fast or not. Hindsight is a
wonderful thing, but what's done is done and I'll take the knowledge
away with me and know better next time.

Current Standings

Qualifying: 14th. Best Lap 1:30.04s
Race One: DNF. Best Lap 1:29.88s
Race Two: DNS
18th in Championship on 30 points.
Link to Full Stats breakdown including lap times (550kb PDF file):
http://www.theresults.co.uk/New_Era_Results_Castle_Combe_4th_June_2005.pdf

Next Round: Snetterton Time Trial - Saturday 25th June.

More of my racing stuff here: http://www.horrible.demon.co.uk/

 

I really enjoyed reading that, good way to kill a few minutes. Bad luck,
sounds like you had one of those weekends.

Best of luck in your next race.

 

I'm confused on your terminology here, Ant. If the bike is trying to
pull when the clutch is in, then it's grabbing, not slipping.
Slipping is when it doesn't drive properly when it's out. But from
your other comments, it sounds like it was both grabbing *and*
slipping, which is a neat trick, and properly diagnosed as "fucked".
Be interesting to see how it is with the new plates - do you have a
test session booked before your next race? If not, I reckon you
should - get your arse to Mallory on a Weds afternoon.

 

It was still really swollen on sunday night, and on monday
morning a trip to A&E was on the cards as it looked like
an over-inflated rubber glove.

Luckily by the afternoon it started to go down and so we
replanned to go this morning if it went back up again.

It's now more or less back to normal, just slightly swollen
with a yellowish tinge, and I'm getting the power back in
most of my fingers too.

Hopefully it'll be back to normal by the end of the week
at this rate.

 

Nice read. Tough luck though.

 

In so many ways.

I don't do panic.

 

Yes - it was truly fucked as the first few plates out of
the clutch (furthest away) were ok, but as we got closer
to the drive plate they became harder and harder to remove,
to the point where most had to be pryed out with a screw-
driver over many turns. I think it was just grabbing rather
than slipping though - my bad terminology at fault.

Dunno what caused it, most likely my ham-fisted starts
and the heat caused by the big-bore and racing I would
think. It was probably the original clutch too.

I'll be testing it before Snetterton, but not a full day.
There's an oil cooler to go onto it now, robbed from a
M900, and also the shorter inlets to help the power.

I also need to phone Mark (*waves*) about those FCRs...

 

<snip>

Nice write up Ant.

You really are expanding the bad luck envelope with 111 as a race
number. Is it too late to change to 13 ? or 666 even ?

Is the short track day session still on for Snetterton that weekend ?

Not that far away, tempted to come along .

 

Ah, right - now it makes sense - overheated and possibly warped
plates, combined maybe with some notches in the basket would mean it
wouldn't disengage properly, and that would give you very poor gear
selection, particularly on downchanges.

Sounds like the cooler is definitely needed.

FCRs? Carbs?

 

cnut

 

You wouldn't believe but Chi is actually #13....!

Yes. Let me know if you want a space at £70 for the 4 hours.

 

I see a pattern here - wasn't there a broken mirror somewhere last
weekend?

Oddly - pun intended - 13 and 111 are mathematically speaking "lucky
numbers".

ok, just had a look over the DSc site and it all looks good, lets see
if i can organise accommodation and some other lesser important things
and i'll get back to you by friday.

 

13 is apparently a Chinese lucky number, hence Chi's selection.

111 is my lucky number, hence my selection.

Accomodation? It's only just over an hour up the road so I'll
probably be heading up early in the morning. Either that or
just pitch a tent there.

 

I'll give that a miss then
That's how old I was when I took a dive through a windscreen at 80 mph

Three for those who can't count