A small change of venue for today - rather than go riding, we went to watch others ride - and paid for the privilege.  Not so bad you know, forking over $25.00 when you've come to watch professionals at work.  Hell, I've paid more than three times that amount to see the Toronto Maple Leafs and have come out feeling like I've just stepped out of a cheap brothel - totally fucked by a two-bit pro - so I thought of it as relatively cheap entertainment.  Walking around the paddock, however, it is the amateur racers whom I believe garner some attention.

These poor blokes are the antithesis of the pro racer.  The Don Munroe's have a full entourage at their disposal - sometimes a couple of bikes, a warmed up motorhome, everything's dry, and they're fairly well pampered.  Whereas the little guys, at least many that I saw, drive up in some dumpy old car hauling a trailer that's in slightly worse condition, carrying a bike that is their pride and joy.  Spare tires are in the trunk, along with a tent and a bag of chips.  Thusly prepared they stake out a nice piece of land and set up shop…maybe throw a tarpaulin over the bike to keep
the rain off.  Did I mention the rain?

You'd think these "meteorologists" would have some semblance of accuracy at predicting the weather.  They have millions of dollars worth of equipment at their disposal: satellites, thermometers, barometers, radar, that big dishy thing on the Death Star, Tarot cards, and a nice set of used dice from Casino Rama.  Yet they still cannot manage to provide an accurate forecast any more than fifteen seconds before the actual occurrence of the weather event they are predicting.

So, having left the house with a twenty percent chance of rain, and encountering one hundred percent of that rain through at least twenty percent of the day, and having not brought an umbrella (this due to unfortunate bad planning on my part)…we got wet.  And cold.  And thusly spent most of the morning sitting in the car feeling miserable and eating our picnic food while watching riders slowly toddling along the track looking even more miserable, wet, and hungry than us.

The rain finally relented for good in the afternoon and we were able to find a nice spot on turn five to plant ourselves and enjoy the carnage - I mean the competition.  Turn five at Mosport has three sections consisting of a fast left (5-A), a slower up hill right hander (5-B), and a tight 90-degree right hander (5-C).  The last one's great for taking photos and for watching motorcycle racers display a remarkably accurate representation of a stampeding heard of fast, nimble water buffalo.

After watching some amateur class 125's and 250's we headed back to the main paddock area where we'd left the car and, most importantly, the picnic food.  Thrashing our way through the dense jungle that makes up a good chunk of the infield section, we came upon Adam and Rhonda heading the other way.  They'd decided to ride up despite the foulish weather and we returned with the food to sit with them and enjoy the rest of the races.

The only really bad crash that day, at least the only bad crash that we witnessed, was during the amateur superbike class (or, as one instructor at FAST referred to it, the animal stupidbike class).  The lead rider, on a Yamaha, had a good twenty bike length lead when he ran turn five-b a tad wide and, in the struggle to get the bike back on course, high-sided the thing.  He landed with a bit of a crunch, as did his bike, and rolled down towards the infield right at the entrance to turn five-c.  With about a dozen bikes barreling down on him we all held our breath as he struggled to get to his hands and knees.  Unfortunately, what little damage the original fall did was fully supplemented by the mint condition CBR F2 that slammed into his back and knocked him well into the infield.  The impact tore a hole through the back of his leathers and ripped the right side fairing off the F2.  Fully seven or eight bikes made it past before they could get the race stopped.  Attendants rushed to care for the injured rider and clear the track of his bike and the debris left from the second collision.  He seemed responsive to the ambulance crew and was moving his arms and legs so, while we never did find out his condition, he appeared to have at least suffered no permanent damage.

The final race was the professional open class and Don Munroe won that one handily.  Anyone interested in catching the action can see the whole event on Speedvision on June 23.
 

June 21, 1998

Why is it that all of these celebratory events such as Mother's Day, Father's Day, Flag Day, etc. seem to fall on a Sunday?  Really puts a damper on folks who want to go riding, but feel (and rightly so) that they should be spending it with their family.  Fortunately the group I ride with is made up of malcontents - enough of us seem to prefer riding to being at home with the folks as fourteen people turned up at Primal Ride on this hot, sticky, humid day.  Darrin, still piecing his bike together one bit at a time - and one paycheck at a time - decided to drive up with his girlfriend in his little red Del Sol (which is Spanish for 'can't keep up with a bike').

Arriving at Primal Ride Café, we caught a glimpse of something blue and beautiful at the end of a long line of bikes.  Aha…Tansel had arrived with his brand spanking new Yamaha R1.  (He managed to get a personal plate - which he must have ordered back when the bike was nothing more than a magazine photo and a wet dream - reading YZFR1).  For those few motorcycle enthusiasts who've been living under a large rock at the side of Highway 141 (Darrin apologizes for marring the finish on your rock by the way), the R1 has set a new standard in performance and weight savings.  While Kawasaki has done an admirable job with the new ZX-9R, I doubt many would be able to honestly say they paid their styling department any overtime during the bike's development.  The R1 on the other hand, looks like sex-on-wheels from any angle.  And for those men feeling a bit inadequate, it has a big old phallic carbon fibre canister with a diameter no larger than the average dinner plate.

After breakfasting (that's a verb meaning 'to eat breakfast'), we hopped on the bikes and rode on up to our weekend stomping grounds - Parry Sound.  Our group this day consisted of…let's see…three Honda CBR 900's, one Honda Hawk, one Honda VTR, one Honda NSR400, one Honda VFR 750, two Suzuki GSX-R's - one was an 1100 and the other a 600, one Suzuki TL-1000R, two Kawasaki Ninja's - both of the 750 variety, and two Yamaha's - one the aforementioned R1 and the other an older 750.  Oh, and some bird who's genus I'm not familiar with lounging in a pear tree.

So, any bets on whether anyone crashed?  Well, based on our record this summer, it's a sucker bet.  Of course someone crashed, we did after all venture onto Highway 518.  Currently holding a new record over Highway 13 if I'm not mistaken.  I mean, not only have we had four people crash on the road, but three of them have crashed on the same turn.  The poor fellow with the VFR 750 hit some of the slippery beach substance and shot across onto the shoulder, which promptly dropped the front end of his bike.  Simon came close to making a third appearance in the underbrush a bit further down the road as he ran wide in a turn and got sideways on the shoulder.

I'm thinking a sign posted near the curve reading "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here" would be in order.

Anyway the rest of the day was uneventful.  We all sweated a great deal and we all had fun.  I'll hopefully have something more interesting to say in another week or so as I'll be stopping in at the Ducati rally at Mosport on my way out to Shannonville for my FAST school.  The weekend after that is the Sport Bike Rally in Parry Sound.  Should have lots to say and some photos to show off.
 

June 28, 1998

Whoo hoo!  I'm on vacation!!  And what better way to start than a trip out to Shannonville for my FAST racing school.  But that wasn't until the 29th and today we took a side trip to Mosport to visit my ex co-worker and friend, Gery DiMonte, at the Ducati Owners Club annual rally.  I've been twice before and there's always something good to see there - although I doubt anything could match my visit two years ago when not one but two Britton's showed up (one of which was actually running around the circuit).

We arrived at about noon and met up with my good friend Jim Hanus and his wife Bonnie and after stuffing myself with a burger and dousing myself with mayonnaise (a.k.a. 45SPF sunblock), we wandered over to Gery's campsite.  He had trailered out his old Paso 750 and his newly beloved 916 (why on earth did he bring the Paso?) and I was curious to see how the two flames were getting along.  As I had suspected, the Paso lost out and remained under a tarp for the whole weekend while the legendary 916 received all the attention.  Here's a quick shot of his bike (parked next to his friend Dominic's).

The turnout this year was relatively disappointing.  There was a beautiful 888 factory superbike and a 916SPS (a rarish 916 bored out to 996cc's with an array of fast bits replacing the stock stuff), both of which made sounds that only a twin-lover could call symphonic.  But besides the usual array of Bimotas and Cagivas and BMW's and God knows what other non-Japanese stuff, the track and the infield seemed slightly barren.  There seemed to be less of the hum in the air that I've felt at the previous rally's I've attended.  (The hum was probably the sound of all those twins roaring around Mosport).

Our quartet hiked out to turn five to take some photos and watch some nice bikes trot around the track.  There were some fast riders in the hotshoe class and some very quick riders in the street and fast street class who belonged in the hotshoe class.  One of the latter decided to go outside the slower riders on the tight right hander at five-c and low-sided the bike off the rumble strip.  It was, however, a 916 and I couldn't help but feel a little smug - being a VTR owner and all.  However, we had fun and the rally made for a very entertaining break from the drive out towards Belleville.  Check out my section on FAST racing for a breakdown of the events of the next day.