Last weekend
I often have my moments where I get emotional on subjects. I don't often express my feelings to others which is sometimes a good or bad thing. But the times where I do, they're usually bad as I keep my feelings bottled up until something causes them to explode.
My weekend all started with the excitement of finally going back to the track. After my first day in May, I wanted to go back and push myself further. I was excited to learn that the moderator of our local sportbike group had organized a private day for us in the coming months. After securing funds and then going through the fun of figuring out transport, the day had arrived for me to drive up.
I had spent the night at Kryphos's and wokeup early from anticipation. I started getting some final things ready for the trek up. A guy on the forum had noted that he was able to push amazing mileage out of his Cherokee by resetting the ECU. After following his instructions and doing some under the hood tinkering, it was time to leave to meet the other guys in Ormond Beach for the convoy up. Everything felt fine until I got on the highway. Acceleration to merge with the flow of traffic seemed nonexistant. Normally, my Jeep would drop a gear and the WOT switch would kick in. This time was not the case.
I attributed this to resetting the ECU and figured it would rectify itself. After driving for a while my check gauges light came on and i looked to see my temp gauge had maxed out! I studied it for a few moments before it dropped about 30 degrees. Temp doesnt really fluctuate that quickly so once again, I attributed it to a previous issue when I flushed my radiator out which at the time, had corroded heavily.
I continued with the gauge going all over the place until I got to the I-4 / I-95 Exchange exit. As I went up the hill I heard this weird rattling noise. As I crested the hill it got louder and louder. At the same time, my throttle had stuck open which it did a while back at Elliots where the resolution was hosing it down in WD-40. I threw her into neutral as i went down the hill and pulled off once the ground leveled out. Shutting her down and popping the hood, I found steam coming from the valve cover when all of the sudden I heard a loud pop and a cloud of white smoke rose from the front passenger side.
Fuck.
Having broken down RIGHT infront of the International Speedway Blvd exit, I was in luck as many of my coworkers lived in the area. I immediately tried calling everyone I could with no answer until finally I got ahold of our department's director. I briefly explained the situation to which he noted he would be there in 10-15 minutes. After I got off the phone with him, my first coworker called me back and I explained the situation aswell. He said he was on his way and we hung up.
About an hour later, my director shows up with water and we try filling the radiator. I see a nice 2" stream coming out of the side which means the whole thing blew which would account for the loud pop. A few moments later, my coworker shows up with his truck.
We decide to get the jeep and trailer off the highway so my director hooks the trailer up and my coworker rigs my tow strap to his F250. After a cautious ride over to one of our offices, my director unhooks the trailer, I thank him for his help and he speeds off.
As I also thank my coworker for his help, I now note that with phase 1 complete, I need to figure out some way to get to the track. He kinda thinks for a moment and asks when I'm going. Without thinking, I say Saturday(Today) returning Sunday night. He thinks for another moment and takes his truck's key off his ring and hands it to me with a smile. I'm speechless as all I can muster out is "...really?" to which he replies "Have fun". While thanking him profusely we transfer the contents of the fully loaded Jeep to his truck. Thankfully, he has a crew cab so not many things needed to go in the bed.
I called the guys I missed in the convoy who I had previously talked with telling them of my misfortune that I was on my way.
After several hours on the road and a few fuel stops later, I had arrived.
Jennings GP is probably somewhere most people have never heard about nor will they ever visit. But for the few who know the secret that lies out in the middle of nowhere, at the Florida / Georgia boarder, Jennings GP is like a special place one holds close. Things don't really change much so it felt just like the first time I visited several months prior.
After setting up camp and unloading the bikes, I finished some last min prep including helping one of my paddock mates finish the prep of her bike. In total, we became to be known as camp SV from having a total of 3 SV650's of ranging years.
I never did get to do laps on the Canondale.. Oh well =P
After everyone was settled we did our track walk before the sun went down.
My motorcycle family :)
The guy to my right is Kris, our photographer. It's like someone took him straight out of Jackass or Viva La Bam.
Woke up early the next morning as the sun was coming up. Slowly, everyone was either getting up or arriving from their stay in the hotel a few miles away.
Trackday mornings are the best
Mark trying to wake up
Everyone says I cant stay still for more than a few minutes
Joe on his 50cc pit bike. I actually crashed in the dirt on that thing last time but that's a different story.
Dave, our fearless leader, holding the trophy for the winner of the control rider race.
Vinny standing next to his bike. The two ez-up tents are mine as is the tent in the background.
Almost ready to go out!
Soon, the first session was called and the experts were out on the track. Entering the classroom we went over the basics for the track virgins. As the expert's session ended, group 2 was ready to go out. The first session wasnt as scary as my last first session but soon I fell back into my normal feeling and comfort zone.
The second session came quickly and I stepped up the pace as I raced around the track. In one of the first laps of the session, I came in too hot to turn one off the straightaway and ran off into the grass. While I have gone off before in another turn, I had never experienced it going 90mph. I immediately stood up as the back end slid over some of the bumps. Using light front and rear brake, I was able to stop and reenter the track and fall back into my groove.
I had been chasing this chick on a 09 GSXR 1000 for a couple of laps, fighting to get past as she was so slow through the corners and would just open it up on the straights where my bike just couldn't keep up.
The last lap of the session, I was back on her through 4 and 5 still trying to get past. As I go into 7, I see the corner worker waving the checkered flag, signaling this is the last lap of the session. I told myself I'm going to get past her. Still hot on her heels in 7, we go into 8. At the exit of 8 I make my move and pass on the right, tucking into 9. As we round the turn, I make the pass on the bike in front of her on the outside through turn 10. Just as I exit the corner I feel something weird in the rear. Most of what happens in the next few seconds is a blur as my rear tire slides, hooks back up which almost highsides me. The front end goes into a tank slapper which by the time I can even think to do anything, I'm going down.
I feel my head and shoulder hit the ground as I tumble through the grass, sliding on my back.
The first three pictures are in turn 6 or 7 right before I make the pass.
Finally coming to the stop, things hit that I just fucked up. I just laid there as my heart was racing, adrenaline pumping through me. When the medics came over and helped me up, I broke down when I saw my bike laying on the ground. I'm often poked at for keeping my bike absolutely spotless. As the medics looked me over, I just couldn't take my eyes off my bike just laying there. I must have been in my own world as I missed a few of their questions. I hadn't cried in a while before that day but seeing my bike beat to shit just felt like a knife in my stomach.
After they loaded her in the crash truck, they asked if I wanted to ride with the bike or in the medic truck. I somehow choked out I wanted to ride with the bike, trying to hide the fact I was crying. The long long ride back to the pits was almost as bad as the crash as I went over what happened in my head and where I was then, with my bike a fucking mess.
(These pics were taken before I noticed our photographer, Kris. I can't express the feeling from the look in my eyes or the unseen expression under the helmet.)
Seeing Kris jumping up and down waving with his shirt tied around his head like a turban gave me a much needed smile.
We finally got back to the paddock where I saw the grim look of my friends as I got off and the bike was unloaded. My friend Alex came over seeing if I was okay, handing me a bottle of water which I immediately opened and drank in a few seconds which freaked him out. I saw everyone gathered around my bike, putting it on it's stands as they tried to start it. My heart lept as I heard the roar from the engine as they reved it a few times. By then, I had my helmet off and it seemed to calm everyone down as I had a smile from ear to ear after hearing her start.
I sat down and I just kinda spaced out, sitting under the tent as I looked at my bike. I'm not sure how hard I hit my head but I kept phasing into moments where everything was spinning. Remembering I had poured a leftover beer into a water bottle in my cooler, I shotgunned it down. It was perhaps the best beer I had ever tasted. The whole time everyone is gathered around me seeing if I'm alright. I dont know if it was heartbreak or shock but I was back in my own world as I just stared ahead.
After settling down for a bit and changing out of my leathers, I just wanted to clean my bike. I started her once again and walked her over to the hose where I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning all of the dirt and grass, bringing back what shine I could. After I was done I definitely felt better but then that made me I start going over the damage.
The rear brake lever was bent to shit as was the front brake lever and brake reservoir. The front faring had a piece cracked where the right mirror bolts up. The lower faring was pushed in on the frame slider bracket which caused some of it to crack. The lower faring, tank, rear tail, and cowl had scratches all up and down the side. I knew the bent parts would be easy to replace but the paint was going to be difficult as some areas had gone down to bare metal.
I sat around for a while, trying to cool down until I decided to lay down as I was still having moments of dizziness. I woke up after lunch and had something to eat as the control rider race was starting. Seeing the 5 guys that were keeping us in line before rip it around the track made me get the itch to stop just sitting around and go back out.
Starting out slower in the beginner novice group, I was soon back to my pace and bump'd back up to the 2nd group. From what Kris, the photographer said, I was tearing it up. I'm not sure if I was still not feeling right in the head or if I didn't care about crashing but going back around, dragging knee along the way, really helped remind me how much I love riding my motorcycle. After I came back in, I gave the SV a pat on the seat and a kiss on the tank.
The day wasnt all bad as before and after the crash Kris was able to get some pretty awesome pics of me tooling around the track.
Click Me
*Note that some pics are from last time so check the date ;P
After talking with some of our experienced guys on our local forum, came to the conclusion of what happened.
The rear lost traction which must have caused me to chop the throttle, causing it to hook back up. Almost launching me off the bike. The front end goes into a tank slapper which steers me to the grass. As soon as it hits, the bike slides out. The bike and I slide off, taking out the meatball.
The whole ordeal was a real shock to the system as I had never gone down before. Made me start to look into how far I was pushing my bike in it's current state. I run stock suspension with Pilot Road 2CTs. I'm already planning on buying another set of rims and rubber for the track. Also looking at upgrading the internals on my forks and swapping out the rear shock. Also looking at replacement parts and seeing if it is cheaper to get the plastics touched up, repainted, or replaced. The lower faring may need to be replaced if I cant get a body shop to weld the cracked bits together.
This weekend was an expensive one for me. I'm going to be hurting for cash for a while.
Track day: $130.00
Gas for Truck: $200.00
Clinic Visit: $50.00
Car and Motorcycle Insurance Due: $145.00
New Radiator for Jeep: $350.00 then another $125.00 when I buy a new coil pack.
So yeah... I'm fucked for a little while
Wow... That was perhaps the longest LJ post I've ever written. If you read it or just looked through the pics, thanks for letting me share my experience with you. I'm sorry if I dwelled on points or kinda rambled on but it was the best way I could rationalize and explain it.
My weekend all started with the excitement of finally going back to the track. After my first day in May, I wanted to go back and push myself further. I was excited to learn that the moderator of our local sportbike group had organized a private day for us in the coming months. After securing funds and then going through the fun of figuring out transport, the day had arrived for me to drive up.
I had spent the night at Kryphos's and wokeup early from anticipation. I started getting some final things ready for the trek up. A guy on the forum had noted that he was able to push amazing mileage out of his Cherokee by resetting the ECU. After following his instructions and doing some under the hood tinkering, it was time to leave to meet the other guys in Ormond Beach for the convoy up. Everything felt fine until I got on the highway. Acceleration to merge with the flow of traffic seemed nonexistant. Normally, my Jeep would drop a gear and the WOT switch would kick in. This time was not the case.
I attributed this to resetting the ECU and figured it would rectify itself. After driving for a while my check gauges light came on and i looked to see my temp gauge had maxed out! I studied it for a few moments before it dropped about 30 degrees. Temp doesnt really fluctuate that quickly so once again, I attributed it to a previous issue when I flushed my radiator out which at the time, had corroded heavily.
I continued with the gauge going all over the place until I got to the I-4 / I-95 Exchange exit. As I went up the hill I heard this weird rattling noise. As I crested the hill it got louder and louder. At the same time, my throttle had stuck open which it did a while back at Elliots where the resolution was hosing it down in WD-40. I threw her into neutral as i went down the hill and pulled off once the ground leveled out. Shutting her down and popping the hood, I found steam coming from the valve cover when all of the sudden I heard a loud pop and a cloud of white smoke rose from the front passenger side.
Fuck.
Having broken down RIGHT infront of the International Speedway Blvd exit, I was in luck as many of my coworkers lived in the area. I immediately tried calling everyone I could with no answer until finally I got ahold of our department's director. I briefly explained the situation to which he noted he would be there in 10-15 minutes. After I got off the phone with him, my first coworker called me back and I explained the situation aswell. He said he was on his way and we hung up.
About an hour later, my director shows up with water and we try filling the radiator. I see a nice 2" stream coming out of the side which means the whole thing blew which would account for the loud pop. A few moments later, my coworker shows up with his truck.
We decide to get the jeep and trailer off the highway so my director hooks the trailer up and my coworker rigs my tow strap to his F250. After a cautious ride over to one of our offices, my director unhooks the trailer, I thank him for his help and he speeds off.
As I also thank my coworker for his help, I now note that with phase 1 complete, I need to figure out some way to get to the track. He kinda thinks for a moment and asks when I'm going. Without thinking, I say Saturday(Today) returning Sunday night. He thinks for another moment and takes his truck's key off his ring and hands it to me with a smile. I'm speechless as all I can muster out is "...really?" to which he replies "Have fun". While thanking him profusely we transfer the contents of the fully loaded Jeep to his truck. Thankfully, he has a crew cab so not many things needed to go in the bed.
I called the guys I missed in the convoy who I had previously talked with telling them of my misfortune that I was on my way.
After several hours on the road and a few fuel stops later, I had arrived.
Jennings GP is probably somewhere most people have never heard about nor will they ever visit. But for the few who know the secret that lies out in the middle of nowhere, at the Florida / Georgia boarder, Jennings GP is like a special place one holds close. Things don't really change much so it felt just like the first time I visited several months prior.
After setting up camp and unloading the bikes, I finished some last min prep including helping one of my paddock mates finish the prep of her bike. In total, we became to be known as camp SV from having a total of 3 SV650's of ranging years.
I never did get to do laps on the Canondale.. Oh well =P
After everyone was settled we did our track walk before the sun went down.
My motorcycle family :)
The guy to my right is Kris, our photographer. It's like someone took him straight out of Jackass or Viva La Bam.
Woke up early the next morning as the sun was coming up. Slowly, everyone was either getting up or arriving from their stay in the hotel a few miles away.
Trackday mornings are the best
Mark trying to wake up
Everyone says I cant stay still for more than a few minutes
Joe on his 50cc pit bike. I actually crashed in the dirt on that thing last time but that's a different story.
Dave, our fearless leader, holding the trophy for the winner of the control rider race.
Vinny standing next to his bike. The two ez-up tents are mine as is the tent in the background.
Almost ready to go out!
Soon, the first session was called and the experts were out on the track. Entering the classroom we went over the basics for the track virgins. As the expert's session ended, group 2 was ready to go out. The first session wasnt as scary as my last first session but soon I fell back into my normal feeling and comfort zone.
The second session came quickly and I stepped up the pace as I raced around the track. In one of the first laps of the session, I came in too hot to turn one off the straightaway and ran off into the grass. While I have gone off before in another turn, I had never experienced it going 90mph. I immediately stood up as the back end slid over some of the bumps. Using light front and rear brake, I was able to stop and reenter the track and fall back into my groove.
I had been chasing this chick on a 09 GSXR 1000 for a couple of laps, fighting to get past as she was so slow through the corners and would just open it up on the straights where my bike just couldn't keep up.
The last lap of the session, I was back on her through 4 and 5 still trying to get past. As I go into 7, I see the corner worker waving the checkered flag, signaling this is the last lap of the session. I told myself I'm going to get past her. Still hot on her heels in 7, we go into 8. At the exit of 8 I make my move and pass on the right, tucking into 9. As we round the turn, I make the pass on the bike in front of her on the outside through turn 10. Just as I exit the corner I feel something weird in the rear. Most of what happens in the next few seconds is a blur as my rear tire slides, hooks back up which almost highsides me. The front end goes into a tank slapper which by the time I can even think to do anything, I'm going down.
I feel my head and shoulder hit the ground as I tumble through the grass, sliding on my back.
The first three pictures are in turn 6 or 7 right before I make the pass.
Click to viewFinally coming to the stop, things hit that I just fucked up. I just laid there as my heart was racing, adrenaline pumping through me. When the medics came over and helped me up, I broke down when I saw my bike laying on the ground. I'm often poked at for keeping my bike absolutely spotless. As the medics looked me over, I just couldn't take my eyes off my bike just laying there. I must have been in my own world as I missed a few of their questions. I hadn't cried in a while before that day but seeing my bike beat to shit just felt like a knife in my stomach.
After they loaded her in the crash truck, they asked if I wanted to ride with the bike or in the medic truck. I somehow choked out I wanted to ride with the bike, trying to hide the fact I was crying. The long long ride back to the pits was almost as bad as the crash as I went over what happened in my head and where I was then, with my bike a fucking mess.
(These pics were taken before I noticed our photographer, Kris. I can't express the feeling from the look in my eyes or the unseen expression under the helmet.)
Seeing Kris jumping up and down waving with his shirt tied around his head like a turban gave me a much needed smile.
We finally got back to the paddock where I saw the grim look of my friends as I got off and the bike was unloaded. My friend Alex came over seeing if I was okay, handing me a bottle of water which I immediately opened and drank in a few seconds which freaked him out. I saw everyone gathered around my bike, putting it on it's stands as they tried to start it. My heart lept as I heard the roar from the engine as they reved it a few times. By then, I had my helmet off and it seemed to calm everyone down as I had a smile from ear to ear after hearing her start.
I sat down and I just kinda spaced out, sitting under the tent as I looked at my bike. I'm not sure how hard I hit my head but I kept phasing into moments where everything was spinning. Remembering I had poured a leftover beer into a water bottle in my cooler, I shotgunned it down. It was perhaps the best beer I had ever tasted. The whole time everyone is gathered around me seeing if I'm alright. I dont know if it was heartbreak or shock but I was back in my own world as I just stared ahead.
After settling down for a bit and changing out of my leathers, I just wanted to clean my bike. I started her once again and walked her over to the hose where I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning all of the dirt and grass, bringing back what shine I could. After I was done I definitely felt better but then that made me I start going over the damage.
The rear brake lever was bent to shit as was the front brake lever and brake reservoir. The front faring had a piece cracked where the right mirror bolts up. The lower faring was pushed in on the frame slider bracket which caused some of it to crack. The lower faring, tank, rear tail, and cowl had scratches all up and down the side. I knew the bent parts would be easy to replace but the paint was going to be difficult as some areas had gone down to bare metal.
I sat around for a while, trying to cool down until I decided to lay down as I was still having moments of dizziness. I woke up after lunch and had something to eat as the control rider race was starting. Seeing the 5 guys that were keeping us in line before rip it around the track made me get the itch to stop just sitting around and go back out.
Starting out slower in the beginner novice group, I was soon back to my pace and bump'd back up to the 2nd group. From what Kris, the photographer said, I was tearing it up. I'm not sure if I was still not feeling right in the head or if I didn't care about crashing but going back around, dragging knee along the way, really helped remind me how much I love riding my motorcycle. After I came back in, I gave the SV a pat on the seat and a kiss on the tank.
The day wasnt all bad as before and after the crash Kris was able to get some pretty awesome pics of me tooling around the track.
Click Me
*Note that some pics are from last time so check the date ;P
After talking with some of our experienced guys on our local forum, came to the conclusion of what happened.
The rear lost traction which must have caused me to chop the throttle, causing it to hook back up. Almost launching me off the bike. The front end goes into a tank slapper which steers me to the grass. As soon as it hits, the bike slides out. The bike and I slide off, taking out the meatball.
The whole ordeal was a real shock to the system as I had never gone down before. Made me start to look into how far I was pushing my bike in it's current state. I run stock suspension with Pilot Road 2CTs. I'm already planning on buying another set of rims and rubber for the track. Also looking at upgrading the internals on my forks and swapping out the rear shock. Also looking at replacement parts and seeing if it is cheaper to get the plastics touched up, repainted, or replaced. The lower faring may need to be replaced if I cant get a body shop to weld the cracked bits together.
This weekend was an expensive one for me. I'm going to be hurting for cash for a while.
Track day: $130.00
Gas for Truck: $200.00
Clinic Visit: $50.00
Car and Motorcycle Insurance Due: $145.00
New Radiator for Jeep: $350.00 then another $125.00 when I buy a new coil pack.
So yeah... I'm fucked for a little while
Wow... That was perhaps the longest LJ post I've ever written. If you read it or just looked through the pics, thanks for letting me share my experience with you. I'm sorry if I dwelled on points or kinda rambled on but it was the best way I could rationalize and explain it.