Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
Date: Fri, 17 Apr 1992 02:04:43 -0400 
From: Mark Joseph Andy <ma1w+@andrew.cmu.edu>
Subject: All right, I'll try (was:Re: Aged Ambrosia Rev.2)
	<9900788@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM>

Howdy,
> What wires you? What brings you to a seething boil?
> ...
> Perhaps you have tucked away in your quiet privacy
> something to craze me, fill me with fantastic visions of the ride,
> that ride of a lifetime?

I don't think I've ever had the ride of a lifetime.  I think that if I
did, I'd be disapointed, since everything would be downhill from
there...

However, this last Sunday saw me bouncing around with glee for 10
minutes.  I was at Nelson Ledges Racetrack.  I'd been working for
about a week trying to get my bike, an RZ350 I'd bought over the net
almost a year ago, ready for this day.  I'd almost succeded.  Somehow
I'd managed to forget to replace the fork oil that had drained onto
the kitchen floor when I had removed the fork drains (so as to drill
for safety wire).  My first fast lap had been something of an
experience.  Going hard into turn 12, I'd braked at about the same
point as I had been on my Seca (which I'd also brought to the track
and had been running during the first session).  The fork bottomed
almost immediately, then proceded to clank up and down over the small
bumps on the entrance, alternatively weighting and unweighting the
front wheel, causing the tire to repeatedly slide and grip, slide and
grip, and causing me to have a distinct puckering sensation as I
wondered how the dirt on the outside of the corner was gonna taste.

However, that lap was about 3 hours behind me.  In that time I'd
become more accustomed to the bike's mannerisms, and was starting to
speed up.  I'd recently talked to Butch, my racing partner from last
year, and he was of the opinion that I could be going faster through
the Kink (turn 11).  Since the lap times sided with him, I decided to
try and overcome my intellectual inhibitions and stay on the gas all
the way from the exit of the carosal through the kink.  I knew that I
should be able to do it, the bike felt stable enough, and Butch was
there telling me that it looked to him like I could do it.  However,
my right hand has it's own mind in these matters, and it took me about
4 laps before I could convince it to see reason.

It was just after I'd gone through the Kink at full throttle for about
the 3rd time: butt up off the seat; body forward over the bars; still
tucked in except for my right knee, sticking out in as much of a nod of
respect to the GP boys as due to any help it gave.  I came through and
saw the back of the other RZ that, up until now, had been a fair bit
faster than me.

I caught up to him a little more on the front straight.  I knew that
the current session must be about over, and I decided to see if I
couldn't get past him.

I stayed with him through turns 1, 2, and 3; dropping back a touch
going through 4, but I was able to make it up by running the entrance
of the carosal a little harder than normal.  I guess that I had a
better line through the exit of the carosal, or else he didn't know I
was there and wasn't pushing; in any event, I powered past him on the
inside and kept the throttle to the stops, except for a brief
rebellion by my right hand, who apparently thought that a quick drop
back to half throttle as I set up for the Kink would be a good thing.
After the Kink, going into 12, my brain overcame my balls and I braked
at the same early point I had been, so as to keep the fork from
bottoming over the bumps on the "real" entrance.  Half expecting to
suddenly see an RZ go past, I "flicked" (my version of flick and the
GP boys' version don't have much in common) over into the lefthander,
went through, squirted up to the slow right hander that led to the
front straight.  I went through another lap at about the same speed,
forcing myself to not look back and to concentrate on going fast.

Coming into 4 on the lap after that (turned out to be 2 laps from the
end), I wasn't really sure how close the RZ was, or even if he was
still there behind me.  I'd been running fairly fast and was feeling
good.  Halfway through the longish sweeper to the left that four is, I
slid my foot forward for the tricky shift up that I needed to get a
good drive out of the slightly increasing radius corner.  Maybe I was
getting tired or maybe it was just fate, but I managed to shift the
bike up into a false neutral.  Swearing at my incompetence, I felt for
the shifter and kicked it up hard, forcing the reluctant gear to
engage.  Just then I heard the chain-saw sound of the RZ, who must've
been right on my butt for those last 1.5 laps since I'd passed him, go
by on the outside.

There's nothing like fucking up and letting someone who you can beat
go by for sharpening up the urge for speed.  I followed him out of the
half-blown corner and into the entrance of the carosal, once again
trying to make up time by running it in a little harder on the
entrance.  He must've been pushing harder, because while I made up a
little time, he stayed enough in front of me that I couldn't get him
with a fast exit out of the long, double apex, right-hander that's the
carosal.  I buried the throttle on the exit, feeling the front end
(under-damped, un-braced, and un-steering dampered) dance over the
bumps on the back straight.  I must've had a little bit more motor,
because by the Kink I had gained some more ground, and then gained
still more by speaking strongly to my right hand.  I was right on his
butt going into turn 12, praying that he would brake early and not
force me to go through another fork jouncing, butt-puckering braking
exercise when I tried to stay with him.  The gods of RZ guys must've
been pleased by something (or pissed at him), and he started slowing
only a little later than I had been in my attempts to keep the front
end settled.

Still on his butt, we squirted down into slow, right-hand, 13.  I took
an outside entrance, so that I could early apex and then hopefully
motor him down the front straight on the inside.  Going through the
corner, touching down the side of my right foot, telling me that I was
going through about as fast as I ever had, then rolling on the trottle
as soon as I could.

He still had half a bike length on me exiting the corner, but I tucked
in and kept the power on, clutchless shifting the length of the front
straight, to just get by before I had to try and bleed off speed so
that I could take the bump on the entrance to one without getting
thrown off into the weeds.  We now knew that we were on the last lap
of the session, courtesy of a checkered flag at the tower as we went
by at 100+ mph.  I went in faster than I had before, due to my pushing
a bit to get by, and  the bike was decidedly not feeling very settled
as I hit the bump that marks the transition to new pavement from old.
I kept the speed up, going through 2 and 3, and then was back at my
friend, the left handed corner 4.  I knew that as long as I didn't
screw up that I'd be in front at the end.

I flicked over into 4 and began winding out the gear.  As I neared
red-line, I shifted my foot forward under the gear shift, and gave it
a healthy kick up.  The next gear engaged perfectly, and I knew that I
just needed to keep my speed up enough to not let him by in the
carosal.  I ran the bike in, more or less following the line I had
been all afternoon, squared it off and yanked the chain - flying out
onto the back straight.

My right hand was getting decidedly trounced in the speed argument as
I approached the Kink, and I flicked the bike over and muscled it
through knowing that I couldn't have gone any faster, meaning that a
certain RZ couldn't have either.  I braked for 12, went through and
slowed way down for 13, sticking out my hand to indicate that I would
be pulling into the pits.

As we both entered the hot pit, the RZ pulled up beside me.  I don't
know if he had the same size grin on as I had, but we gave each other
a heart-felt thumbs up and headed to our pits.

Mark

| Mark J. Andy			WERA NV #813		AMA #700560	|
| ma1w+@cmu.edu			KotR			DoD #813	|
| Co-founder/Rider, Team RISC and Two Geeks Racing			|
| '82 Seca 650 (street), '85 RZ350 (track), '78 KM100 (commute-in-snow)	|
| I want RZ350 parts like steering damper, fork brace, SS lines, etc... |