Ironic

I had put on some new frame sliders on the '02 R1 last Friday night; since being taken out on Thunderhill last year and using my previous set, I've been so worried about something happening while the bike was without them. No dout that my tank remains unscathed despite those drops because of the sliders.
 
Then the morning after, I decided to do a solo jaunt down 84, cause I hadn't done a solo ride in awhile. On the way back to STP, just past La Honda through this mild right-hander:

Photo taken from the opposing lane; I'm coming from the
background to the foreground

Next thing I know, about the middle of the corner, I get a violent reaction at the front, then down I go. I slid up to the center line, while my bike slid through the opposing lane, stopping at the shoulder in the other side of the road. There were no oncoming traffic to collide with, but there was some to stop and help me pick up my bike, so I can roll it back to my side of the road.

I don't remember seeing one, but my conclusive guess is a sizable rock that I didn't see, and happened to have ran over. I walked back through the corner, and while I didn't see one (anymore?) in the middle of the lane, there were definitely scattered rocks.

The sliders did their job alright, with the tank unscathed again, but virtually everything in the right side of the bike took damage, from the fairings to the hard parts.



I don't know if I'll wait for winter again to repaint the fairing or do it now; apart from the upper fairing's corner, it's all just rash with no holes or breaks. I may just ride it as is after fixing the hard parts, until this year's winter.

Rebuilding. Again.

A Little Clarity Goes a Long Way

In my previous entry, I noted how I was having trouble finding my speed around the track, and I didn't know what to attribute the attrition to; doing track work, new bike, start of the season, all of the above? I wrote that the following trackdays would either confirm or debunk one or the other (or all of the above).

Well, I worked a Z2 trackday the other day again, and thankfully, it became clear to me as that day was.

It was none of the above.

What it was, was riding in a slower group. See, as part of being grid and recovery staff, myself and the rest of the crew basically confer with one another at the start of the day as to who's riding which group (A, B, or C). For the most part, we're all A-group riders, but since coming into the grid, I thought it best to be accommodating for now, and let the rest of the guys and gal ride A-group if they want, and I'll happily ride B-group. No biggie, I've jumped down a group before to ride with my friends, so no harm no foul.

Well the foul is that I am riding in an environment that though I can handle, is not conducive for me to ride the pace I typically do. B-group offers a fair amount of riders that are both too slow and too fast for the group; it's the nexus of skills from the other two groups, which can make for some unpredictable riding circumstances to negotiate. I can negotiate this, but the problem is that I cannot get myself into a rhythm of riding that taps into my full potential, which is critical in continued growth and development, in my opinion.

I realized this the other day at Thunderhill. Though I started the day riding in B-group still, I decided to go back to A-group again. In retrospect, it was probably pretty ballsy of me to do that when I've been feeling not up to par; it was one of those days with the fast A-group with AFM guys like Chris Siglin and AMA guys like Eric Bostrom signed up to do their testings. But what the hell, why not?

Immediately. IMMEDIATELY as soon as I went out there, with no rolling traffic to negotiate and fast guys passing me offering a rabbit for me to chase, I was back to my pace. Just like that, just to be back in the proper environment that offers no resistance for you to give most if not your all.



It felt so good to be myself again.

Regression with Progress

This track season will be my first full season as part of Z2 Trackday's crew, after they asked me to join them late last year. This past weekend's double-header at Sonoma Raceway kicked off my grid work, and though Saturday was only the third full-day I've done grid work and recovery, I ended up having done the most work I've ever had compared to the previous two, and therein came a surprise.

Pick up their crashed bike, then pick up the rider

It's still a welcome change to be working the trackdays now, rather than just sitting around in between sessions as a customer. The time spent working the grid and/or doing track recovery between my riding sessions really does bring a new and exciting chapter during my trackdays. But up until this past weekend, I never thought that my newfound duties would affect my riding abilities negatively. With Saturday's busy trackday, I felt like I wasn't riding as best as I could during my sessions. Understandably, one can say that it was only the first trackday of the season for me, so I'm probably just shaking off cobwebs, but historically, I've usually been able to just pick up right where I left off from the previous season, and sometimes even going quicker. I didn't feel tired out on the track per se, but in some ways, I want to say that the grid work and recovery duties does tangibly affect my riding.

This isn't really a complaint, but more of an observation rather. The next coming trackdays I work will either confirm or debunk this, but in the worst case scenario that I'm right, I'm thinking that I will need to simply better pace myself during trackdays, and/or up my exercise regimen so that I am better fit to be riding and working the track simultaneously. After all, this is a new chapter in my track adventures, so addendums should be expected.

Any new chapter requires a different approach

The other downside to working trackdays that I was afraid of was that a day would come when I would end up picking up either a friend or acquaintance following a track incident. I knew something like this could and would happen, it just wasn't something to look forward to. Well, it came too soon this past Saturday, when I found MotoLiam a victim of another rider's mistake out on the track. Fortunately, he was without any serious injuries, and though his bike sustained damage, it was nothing that Liam couldn't sort out. Not a guy that's wrenched on MotoGP machines like he has.

Taking Liam safely back to the pits



 But you know, they say you take the good with the bad, and I will forever be grateful to have been given this opportunity to have another dimension in an existing passion. Not everyone is handed something like this, and all the benefits of being in such a position far outweigh the drawbacks that every now and then may weigh you down.

So I say, the best progress tends to be those gained out of adversity.

I Turned 31 Years Old This Past Week

And my brother was back in the ICU again. It's not the first time in the six years since his brain hemmorrhage, but it never gets easy on everyone.

 

Times like this also serve to punctuate the enduring lesson and life decision I've made in honor of my brother:

 

 

My fate's not going to find me sitting around waiting for it.

It's going to have to chase me down or meet me head on.

Dendrochronology

- tree-ring dating is the scientific method of dating based on the analysis of patterns of tree rings, also known as growth rings. (via Wikipedia.org)

I like things that last. They become a sign of dependability, and involuntarily, become a living chronicle of one's ownership of them.

Take for example my car above - my 1998 Mazda 626 I've long dubbed Champagne for its color, which was inherently more appealing than the color's official name (driftwood). It was not my first car, and it isn't the last or latest of vehicles I've owned, but it is the one that I've held the longest ownership of. I didn't even purchase or pick it out myself; as with a lot of things in my youth, the car was a hand-me-down from my brother who used to own it, up until he finished his Naval service and bought himself his dream car (2000 Honda Prelude Type SH). But I did make it my own, and even through burning out its first transmission and replacing it, the car has yet to leave me stranded on the side of the road. Ever.

Over 200,000 miles of my life are proudly displayed in its odometer. And still counting.

If memory serves me correctly, the two photos above of the same car were taken around a decade apart. That means I'm barely out of my teens and into my 20's in the photo on top, and now out of my 20's and into my 30's in the photo on the bottom.

A lot can be surmised just by looking at my car's growth rings between the two photos. The car has looked its best, and every year only serves to add some more wear and tear. But each and every one of them is simply a growth ring - it's tree-ring - to remind me time and time again of what we've gone through.

I'm not a car guy by any means, and truth be told, all the modifications I did to my car early on in my ownership of it were more "foibles of my youth" rather than a testament to being a car-afficionado. But how can you not appreciate an otherwise inanimate object that has literally AND figuratively carried you and your family for most of your life?

Champagne has more than paid for herself, and if the day were to come that I can no longer drive her, I will be heartbroken but understandably proud of how far she has carried me through. However, if she treks on for perhaps another decade, perhaps another quarter of a million miles, long enough for me to perhaps teach my daughter how to drive for the very first time...

...I would truly be at a loss for words then of how grateful I'll be of this car's dependability and perpetual service.

Speaking of California...

Between Saturday and Sunday this past weekend:

Hike the Central Coast one afternoon, snowboard the Sierras twenty four hours later. I'm not a California-snob by any means, but I do love California. :)

America the Beautiful, California the Breath-Taking

Europe gets a number of motorcycles that America will never see, and they also have roads that as a motorcyclist, can make you feel like you're winding through heaven on Earth. However, you are subject to the fickle European weather, marked by copious amounts of rain and cold throughout the year. A bit of generalization? Maybe, but not too far off I would imagine. Couple that with their tiered licensing system that has you work your way up to the motorcycle of your desires, and it comes to light how good we have it in this side of the planet.

Not every motorcyclist can find paradise like this for their backyard.

As a motorcyclist, I really firmly believe that if you reside in Northern California, then you're home. Virtually year-round of riding available through some of the most gorgeous sceneries in varieties of landscapes; from the ethereal Pacific coastline, through dense Redwood forests, and into the rolling hills of the valleys. And as ill-advised we may have of a licensing system, and the fact that any kid can go into a motorcycle dealer and buy the best and fastest motorcycle available for road use, there is no limit to how and when we can live the life that a motorcyclist only dreams of.

That we can have a choice between toys like these without restriction...
the rest of the world can only be so lucky.

When you're living any motorcyclist's dream life, you never really dream of living anywhere else. :)