Me and Motorcycling (Part 7)

The Wardrobe Incident

Well I'm still in procrastination mode, so I should at least drop another chapter in the continuing saga. I'm about to hop on the (Kawasaki ZG1000) Concours and go touring for a couple of days; so I'm procrastinating getting ready for that as well....

They turned their attention to our gear. Ninja-boy, as you'd expect, was in a good-quality one piece leather racing suit, and had all new gear. Katana-boy's gear was well-used, but serviceable. It wasn't of the same current generation as Ninja-boy's, or as heavily protected with padding and body armour, but would hold together in a crash. It would just hurt more.

They frowned when they looked at my leathers: It was a new suit (the insurance had replaced it, and also paid for part of the cost of a new helmet, as the old ones had both been damaged in the accident.). But it was a sport riding suit for the street (plain black), and two piece, so that I could forego the pants and wear jeans if I desired, on the street. I was also wearing a full set of body armour and a back protector underneath, courtesy of Iain, but this was not good enough.

They explained that the zipper which held the two pieces together would let go if I crashed as it wasn't sturdy enough, and that wouldn't be good at all. They just looked at each other and thought for a moment, as my heart started sinking. Then the marshal asked if we had any duct tape. Iain and I both quickly responded "Yes!" as all four of us relaxed with huge sighs of relief. "Ok, just tape them together real good" he said. Iain rushed to comply, as they continued checking my gear. Once again, duct tape saved the day! Red Green would have been proud….

My racing boots and gloves passed muster, and they approvingly noted my cautious handling of the helmet, and asked me to remove it from the carrying bag so that they could inspect it. I was handling this helmet cautiously for a couple of reasons: Firstly, this was the best helmet that I could possibly afford. It cost $800 and was close to the top of the line. I saved a couple of hundred dollars by getting a plain (bright bright red, so it was visible) helmet, without race-replica graphics.

I tried different brands in that price range, and settled on an Arai Quantum S, for the simple reason that it fit my face and head perfectly, with or without glasses. This is very important, as a snug fit is very important for safety, but if there are any pressure points, the helmet will not be comfortable. This quality of helmet was not an indulgence: If you are a serious street or track rider; or simply want to give yourself the best life -- and quality of life -- protection that you can, the helmet is the one thing that you can't skimp on. Get the best one that you can, make sure that it fits properly, and treat it well.

This leads me to the second reason for the careful treatment: For something as expensive as a good motorcycle helmet (and you can easily spend $1500, if you want to get fancy), and that is designed to be tough enough to protect your head and brain from horrendous impacts, they are very, very fragile. A drop from a height of 4 feet onto concrete or pavement is enough to put a small crack or scratch into the gel coat of the helmet (the layer just underneath the paint and primer, where the true construction of the helmet begins). This is enough to make that flaw a weak spot, and compromise the ability of the helmet to take a major blow later, when that might mean the difference between life and death, or more severe injury than otherwise. A racer who dropped his helmet onto the ground and damaged it would immediately throw it away. While probably crying about the cost. The same, of course, occurs when a helmet is even lightly damaged in a crash. It has served its purpose but is now compromised, and is no longer a piece of safety gear, but merely a fashion statement.

Fit is also extremely important, as I stated earlier, so you don't let other people wear your helmet, as this also compromises its ability to protect your own noggin, by subtly altering the fit and padding. Walter carefully examined the helmet, looking for imperfections of the type that I mentioned, while Iain placed a wide swath of duct tape on my back, joining the two halves of my leathers together. The helmet passed muster, and the duct-taping received the thumbs up. It was now time to get onto the track. I placed my helmet back in the bag, laid it carefully on the bike seat, and zipped my jacket against the chill. Peter walked over and picked up the helmet, casually strolled over to the pit wall, and placed it there. I got his point: The bike seat was a less stable platform, and a casual nudge would have been a dumb way to blow $800.

We followed Peter out onto the track, and I immediately started looking for reference points, per my dog-eared copy of "A Twist of the Wrist" by Keith Code. This was pretty easy to do, as we were going at a pretty slow pace. We were, in fact, walking. Peter walked along the line that we would later navigate with our bikes, pointing out braking points, changes in surface and camber, and other points of note. We were on a modified configuration of the Nelson track (just under 2km), with some kind of car school happening opposite, on the Fabi track configuration (just over 2km).

Shannonville Motorsport Park has a very flexible track layout, and can be used in about 6 different main configurations, from a ¼ mile drag strip to a 4km road course. We were in no danger of making a wrong turn and ending up on the wrong track. Even with my sense of direction. I pretty much gave up on reference points, as I couldn't figure out what I would reliably be able to detect at speed.

We finished walking the track, and returned to our bikes in the pit area. It was finally time for the main event. I fitted my earplugs and put on my helmet, and mounted my bike (my hands shaking slightly from excitement), as the others did the same. The plan was that we would follow Peter at a moderate pace for a few laps, and then he would begin to increase the pace as we became more familiar with the track layout.

Peter started his bike first. It burst to life with a deep musical whooping sound, immediately identifying it as the Alpha Bike of this particular pack. I had checked it out earlier, and it truly was a thing of beauty. A brand new GSXR 1100-based superbike, it was a gleaming white and blue, and covered with sponsor decals. Everywhere the eye lighted, expensive custom parts made of "unobtanium". Trick, light racing wheels shod with racing slicks; huge braced swingarm in exotic alloy; exhaust can made of titanium, and much, much more. This bike was easily worth ten times the value of any of the others, and was capable of performance on a whole other level. It was unlikely that any of us neophytes could even ride it around the track, other than in lurching, embarrassing fits and starts. If our bikes were eager Huskies, raring to get to the track, his was a Great White shark, eager to devour all competition. It didn't need the number one plate to make that evident. The deep, chesty whooping sound as he blipped the throttle made it abundantly clear.

We fired up our bikes. This required four attempts and some frantic fiddling by Katana-boy and his brother. Iain and the marshal looked at each other and rolled their eyes. We formed up in a loose line behind Peter, and made our way onto the track, as Walter gathered up his flags and made his way to the infield. He would use different flag signals on us throughout the day, and expect us to react accordingly. A mistake or missed signal would result in a gesturing over to the side of the track on the next go-round, and a pointed correction, which we all wanted to avoid.

The first lap was a pretty slow one, and I looked for those reference points that I could identify, while trying to keep my bike to the appointed line. After two slow laps, Peter picked up the pace, and I immediately ran into trouble, having the first "incident" of the day.

To be continued....