Track Day Report: Bumpy-Willow and a Little Turbulence Part 2

As the day wore on, I went out for session after session.  My friend kept time and did a damn fine job of throwing out some healthy mockery of my hangups.  "You could be carrying a lot more speed through that section," he would say, gesturing out toward the bus stop.  "You probably would have shaved some time off back there if you didn't get held up by that guy."  I took note of his observations and went back out time and time again, experimenting, picking up speed and improving corner entry in some areas and dragging ass in others.  By around lunch time I came in to resolve a nut that came loose on my clutch cable where it adjusts at the motor and since it was 5 minutes to grid for the next group, I just sat out the rest of the session and plopped down in my chair, resting my head and feeling the cool breeze on my face.

Out of nowhere, from behind me there was a ruckus in the pit next to ours, "This is bullshit!" a guy yelled out. I lazily rolled my head over in the direction of the commotion,  "I'm not riding on this shit, it's just all off!"  He had a sweet setup: a tractor trailer with a shop in the back end of it where racks of tires sat neatly above a workbench with a laptop (they even had their own wi-fi I was... jealous). A group of 3 guys tended to the bike as the rider made his way into the trailer.  I let out a chuckle, both at how silly the whole thing seemed and also how much I sympathized with... well having a bike that doesn't quite operate up to par.  I rolled my head back over in the direction of my friend who was still looking toward the trailer, "I promise never to be like that," he declared nonchalantly.  I laughed again, "Track Day Problems... it could be a reality TV show if it was marketed right," I added mockingly.  "Really though, maybe I should offer to let him take the R6 out," I said with a sly grin.  We both laughed and I suited up for my next session.

My afternoon sessions were where I felt the most comfortable.  Right before lunch things felt clearer and I could somewhat bring myself into the zone.  I had wiggled the brake lever around enough to squeeze an extra few millimeters of leverage in my favor and it seemed better than nothing.  The clutch was... well the clutch and I managed to find a sweet spot that sorta worked out. I was enjoying the day in spite of the obstacles (there's a reason my nickname is Murphy).  My friend was an excellent pit chief, time keeper, and coach. As the day wore on, I came to really appreciate the weight of being able to share a track day with someone who understands, who appreciates the quest for self improvement, and who has the technical and riding knowledge to give good relevant constructive feedback; and someone who knows you well enough to crack jokes at your expense to keep things fun.  

There weren't any earth-shattering records broken that day.  Sometimes it's good to just get out there and ride to keep the muscle memory fresh and the reflexes keen. As I reviewed some of the track photos, I decided that I probably wouldn't buy any this time around but that's not to say that it wasn't a damn fine day.

It was a damn fine day, indeed.