midpond moto had an open day for anyone willing to toss them $100, and fencejumper wanted to go. i wasn't sure what to expect, other than going faster than i like to, in tighter turns than normal, but it sounded fun so i joined him.
Saturday morning we arrived with one dead battery in a 690 and one ugly drz with tractor tires. some pleasantries were exchanged with the owner and we were given permission to do whatever on the cart track.
we both passed inspection (lol, why? how? i dunno) and prepared to jump off David's katoom with a boost pack. the inspection guy wouldn't see this!
after David's bike was idling happily, we ventured out onto the cold, wet, and in places muddy track. the tires didn't warm up for around 4-5 laps, but still slid around every corner, like peanut butter on your lovers fing... wait that's not right. it was slippery. not like wet grass or ice on the steps, but more like peanut butter .... NO NOT NOW....
so the peanut butter feeling, is like when you're raking leaves and you step in hidden dog poo with Crocks on your feet, imitating being shoes. you don't really fall down, you just wiggle a little and then try to wipe it off on the leaves, but there isn't any traction on the leaves so you step in some more poo.
yup, that was the morning.
after lunch (there was a taco truck) they blew off the track and reversed the direction of travel. the track was warm, but the tires were cold, and several riders exited the track in unplanned manners of oopsinesses.
David and i agreed (while reminding each other) that "these tires are cold" and we rolled up to the entrance to the track. a drone was stuck in a tree, and the for department was attempting to retrieve it, so we waited.
"cold tires man" he said.
"yup, cold tires, yup" I agreed.
we waited a little longer to start, and i wondered if his daughter was old enough to remember seeing her dad rip around the track, or even care. his wife sure does care, that's plain to see.
"oh we can go now?" we asked as the owner walked by...
"yup, have fun and don't hit the firemen" he says, or something like that.
we dipped onto the track, and i watched as David's front, then rear, kind of bobbled around, fighting for some grip. another fifteen minutes of heavy braking and we could finally get the tires warm enough to hold a little on the turns.
the back stretch was just long enough to grab a 3rd gear wheelie, and some of 4th, before it was time to set it down and get the rear end hopping as the turns started again.... man that's fun.
we rode another hour or two and then agreed it was probably time to pack up, since we hadn't crashed yet.
i brought a CHARMS sucker with me, to serve as a reward for not crashing, on the ride home. it was delicious.
if you listen close you can hear a little birdy chirping just before the turns :-)
https://youtu.be/Bcmt02R5o8k(David let me go out front, i couldn't pace or catch him all day)
there i finally did a track day.
thirteen years later, i did one. :-)
stuff i learned:
i really don't like race lines. I've ridden too much for pleasure with friends, and trying to keep the same line so we don't collide is hard wired into my being. i _can't_ride_race_lines_.
i REALLY LIKE not having to worry about cars around each turn. or trees. or brick mailboxes. that's fucking sweet!
i want to do another one, on a tighter track, or gymkhana, whichever.
:-)