Few shots of the day.
We headed up Friday for the TPM three day at Calabogie in Canada. The drive up was pretty boring, about ten hours. Light traffic and 14 mpg with two bikes in an enclosed trailer were the high points. We got to our cabin, and wholly shit, the place rocked. Nice new house on a big lake in the middle of the woods. Perfect. We got some sleep and get up early and head for the track. We get to the track and the place is beautiful, brand new pavement as far as the eye can see, and it's only a fifteen minute drive. Nice planning Pete. There is, however, no running water, no paddock, no power, and 3 porto-pottys for about 200 people. Drive to east bum fuck and take a left, this is Calabogie.
Out on the track. This place is big, wide, smooth and fast. It is not Louden, so I am totally lost. A handful of brake in all the wrong places and I'm working too hard just during follow the leader. It's 90 degrees out and the four of us are pouring sweat. Two more days of
this, whats a helicopter ride cost again? . Blind entrance, double apex, decreasing radius, whatever you want, it's there, 3 miles and 25 turns worth. We get through the morning and into the afternoon, and into some open session. I get to concentrate and ride it at my own pace. I start to learn the track. It's amazing how much more sense this place makes at speed. The instructors are great, one gets in front of me, points to her ass, and starts dragging me around. She points in the areas I was screwing up. I get my lines straightened out and get some more confidence with my bike. New tires, rear sets, flywheel removed, quick shifter, and GP shift all for the first time and it all works really well. We finish up the day and drag our asses back to the cabin. A beer, two pre-rolled, and some hamburgers finish the day.
Sunday. More of the same with way more confidence and now it's fun. It's a little cooler and we're not as tense as yesterday. Lots of laps, four open session in the morning and four in the afternoon. I'm not as tired and I can concentrate on more than just keeping the bike on its tires. The only problems are the usual drag racers and retards. We finish up and head to the cabin and repeat the drill from the night before. Bliss.
Monday. The place emptied out quite a bit over night, about half or two-thirds the riders remain. There are also some new riders. TPM combines the slow and middle groups (white and red) and it's twenty minutes on and twenty off. This is cool, BUT, you need a race license to be in their blue group so you get people out for their first track day mixed with faster guys there for their third day in a row. Closing speeds of 40 or 50 mph make for some tense moments. Fuckers, they still drag race. Show them a wheel and they block you. Racers with 2" chicken strips. One ass pirate on a gixxa 1k lofts a wheelie all the way down the front straight, an instructor brings him into the pits and gives him a 25 minute time out. I love it. My buddies Pete and Alan get new tires mounted and the three of us circulate at the same pace. We're riding consistent and working on parts of the track. It feels smooth. No more handful of brake, just slow it down a little,get in position, and let the bike scrub speed through the corner. We weave through slower riders and stay at our pace. Every time we get back in the pits we're laughing and talking about what feels good and what we're doing wrong. We're burning our knee sliders down, a first for Pete and Alan. Into the afternoon and it just gets better. Clean air, blue skies, light breeze, just what we ordered. Three days of it and we are tired. All the talk of "I'm just gonna go easy the rest of the day" and "gonna cruise and have fun" is bullshit. Inside we are all looking to finish on a high note. We line up at pit out after a red flag and wait a bit for them to let us back out. The crash truck comes up pit road and it's a red and black Aprilia, just like Petes. Oh wait, it's not like Petes. It is Petes. He rolls up in the ambulance ten minutes later. His wife Patty keeps it together but has a look of fright for the next fifteen minutes. She is a trooper, no tears, no panic. There are some gouges in his helmet and he doesn't remember crashing or getting in the ambulance so a ride to the hospital is in order. Three fractured ribs and some bruising. Out of the hospital and on the road by 5:30. We drive all night and get home around 5. Petes fine, his wallet hurts from teaching us an expensive lesson.
I know my form on the bike sucks, that's what I got the pictures for.
06-22-07, 07:50 PM
TPM seemed to cater to people with experience, so it was a short riders meeting and right out on the track. I'd never done their track days before, but I like the way they run things.
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