Next day was an “Open Pit Lane” which means that you can go out as much as you want that I’d booked up for whilst Lucinda put her Fireblade back into “road trim” and went to the coast for crab sandwiches and ice cream in the sun.
We had been warned at the briefing that there were quite a few racers on track that day and watching from the pit wall they were frighteningly fast. It took me a big gulp of courage to run up the pit lane and wait until I would be let out to join the fray. This went frightening wrong as, as I and another nervous guy waited to be let out on track there was an accident and a red flag (session closed until cleared). Within 4 seconds I realised what would happen next – the whole group of hot blooded maniacs would be sent to queue up in the pit lane – behind we two !!!
I seriously contemplated discovering a “problem” so I could sneak back to my garage and then onto the back of the group, but after exchanging very nervous glances at the guy next to me (shiny R6 and unused knee sliders) decided that I’d just “go-for-it” when the lights changed.
This I did, I got to the first corner expecting to be swamped by 30 blood thirsty looneys all looking to crash me but no, it didn’t happen. What followed was my fastest lap around Snetterton that I’ve ever done, I knew there were behind me and knew sooner or later I’d be getting cut up like mad, but by the end of the main straight nobody had overtaken me. My goal then was to get round and do a whole lap without them catching me and as I crossed the start / finish line I was absolutely thrilled, even shouting out a jubilant yahoo as I did it. In the next half a lap I was passed by half a dozen and by the end of the second lap at least another ten but I didn’t care, I was chuffed to bits.
I’ve no idea if there was a hold up at the lights behind me, if for some reason they were being just sensible on cold tyres (I wasn’t that lap) or if the fear of being cut to ribbons just helped me do a very quick lap, but I didn’t care.
I went out for four sessions up to lunch time, two of them about half an hour long and at the end of the last session before lunch was starting to lose concentration. A long hard think saw me decide to call it a day and not push my luck, Lucinda had returned, the sun was still out and I and the bike were in one piece. Call me chicken, but I think it was a good call.
It was brilliant being on track with some seriously quick young racers, although why they feel the need to pass you three inches away at twice your speed I’m unsure, saying that, I bet it’s fun for them
I had my previous days bad riding repaid to me when as I tipped into the apex at the Bomb Hole corner I spied a wheel near my right knee speedily followed by a very quick bike laid almost on it’s side. I stood up the bike, did a serious wobble and remembered to keep looking round the corner not where I was heading for the grass, and all was well. After you are “buzzed” a couple of times you get used to it and just have to admire the talent of the young riders.
Showered, and the van packed up, we headed West in time to see a lovely sunset over Poole.
If like me until three years ago, you have fancied doing a trackday, all I can say is do it. The time I’m on track, even at my modest speed, I’m having more fun than anything I’ve ever done in my life. It’s frightening, exhilarating and completely knackering but absolutely brilliant. Added to that the fun and frolics off track, the meals and the nattering in the garages in the evening is just great. Thank you Scotty, for encouraging me to give it a go.
Just also to thank my Snetterton Soul Mate Lucinda, who as many of you know is just fab company.
Gerry
PS. If anybody wants a free “deathbed mattress” complete with unidentified stains, please call me, I was sure it would lure young ladies (or to be honest any ladies of whatever age) into my van on cold trackday nights – but alas I was mistaken. Now if I could just fit a small Jacuzzi in the back of the van I’m sure that would work ;-)
