randomwisdom.com

I didn't want to post about this until it was all over, as I'm sure Mom would have had a heart attack if she knew where I went. Last Sunday, my buddies and I loaded our bikes on a truck and drove to Ebisu racetrack in Fukushima prefecture.

When we arrived, the fog was so thick you could cut it with a knife, with annoying little floating misty rain. It all cleared up just as the first group of riders (the experts) made their first run, and by the time it was my turn the track was dry. I ran "experience class" (beginners), meaning there were only 4 or 5 other bikes on the track. First run was with a "pace bike" showing the best lines for all the turns-- for those of you who don't ride, if you start on the outside of a turn and cut in to the middle before ending on the outside, you can "shallow out" the turn a bit. Then we pulled into the pit, and they turned us loose for 5 laps. I started out in front, but with my smaller bike and more cautious attitude, I let most of the other guys pass me early on. With them out of the way, I opened 'er up and proceeded to gouge a furrow in the asphalt of the third hairpin with my footpeg. Whoops.

If I ever do this again, I need knee sliders; normal procedure is to lean HARD off the bike in a turn, sticking out your knee. Knee sliders are pucks specifically designed to scrape on the ground, giving you appropriate feedback if you're leaning over too far; the alternative is letting the metal bits of your bike gouge the pavement, which tends to upset the suspension of the bike a bit (an understatement). I didn't have sliders, so I had to be more cautious. Even still, at one point I could have sworn I felt the back tire washing out a little bit, an interesting feeling seeing as how I'd never push my bike that hard on the street.

The way the Ebisu track is laid out, there is a hairpin right from the start, a chicane followed by a downhill straight into a pair of hairpins, a series of right turns that basically meld into one big sweeper, and then an uphill straight crank across the finish line. I don't think I ever got it out of 4th gear, but it sure as hell felt fast. And during that last uphill straight, as I was screaming up the hill in full tuck each time at thirteen thousand RPMs (while only going about 100kph), it seemed as if the chained demon inside would rip itself from its prison and run amok like a rabid animal.

Good grief, if you run like that on the street, you're insane.