Simple...don't _do_ that.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I heard that question no less than four times over the course of the weekend. Here I was, at my favorite track, and my favorite race of the year, and apparently I didn’t look too happy about the whole thing.

I was pitted with my (now) good friend Harry Wolle, who was there to race his new Ducati 800SS for the first time. Harry is a super cool guy (who gets around a race track alright, thank you very much). While we’d chatted at a few races last year, we never had the chance to hang out. On Saturday afternoon, Harry looked at me and said, “Man, ya just don’t look like you’re having fun.” It hadn’t occurred to me up to that point, but sadly, he was right.

Aside from my crash at Tally (these things happen), my year couldn’t have been going better, so it seemed. I had a great bike, unfathomable support from a very supportive and enthusiastic group of sponsors, and hey, I was racing motorcycles. I absolutely love riding the R6. It’s really fast, it handles superbly, and the challenge of learning to go fast(er) on it is supremely enjoyable. What, then, was the problem? Not to put too fine a point on it, I’m a wimp.

If you’ve been reading this blog all along, you know that I had some misgivings about racing in the ‘C’ classes. I love the competition, and it’s great in the sense that you’re never alone…there’s always someone to race with. However, with each track session, be it practice or a race, my paranoia increases, to the point where every braking zone I enter feels like a spin of a roulette wheel. Will an over-zealous youngster knock me down from behind? Will this guy I’m passing on the outside lose it and take me out? Am I freaking nuts to be out here with 64 twenty-somethings, all of whom seem to be hell-bent on whatever a twenty-something racer is hell-bent on? Will the ball drop on the 00?

Please take note that I chose the word ‘paranoia’ carefully. I am well aware that lots and lots (and lots) of people race the 600cc classes every weekend and live to tell the tale. Fear, however, is by its nature irrational, and as such I feel powerless to control it. This overwhelming dread had succeeded in sucking pretty much all of the fun out of riding, and I didn’t even see it coming.

What to do?

Remember that old joke that goes ‘Hey Doc, it hurts when I do this?’ You guessed it…no more C class racing for me. For the remainder of the season, I’ll be entering alternate classes on the bike…probably the ‘A’ classes. The ‘A’ class is for 1000cc bikes, but the number or riders on the grids is much smaller, so I think I’ll be a lot more comfortable there. For next year, I’ve decided to return to my first year roots, and go back to a smaller bike. I’ve got my eye on one of those Duck 800’s and a return to the ‘D’ classes.

After all, I can’t let Harry have all the fun.


Race report to follow...