0.91600438476294875308303644834201151 posts per day

I thought I was here a year or two earlier (pre Y2K) then is listed, I was in the second BBS wave but who cares. It's been a pretty damn good time, met some of my best friends via this shithole and had a million laughs.

 

June 5th 2001.

Hard to believe.

First race was in 1994 at Nelson Ledges. Bob Stanley was the race school instructor.

Metzler Comp K's baby!

 

Superbike Bob!

 

He once told me (with a straight face) the carousel was Kevin Schwantz's favorite corner of any he'd ridden in the world.

How you doing Bob?

 

We’re doing well, I’m busy as hell with work but at the same I’m trying to coordinate an exit strategy in three to five years.

You?

 

I remember when metalhead first came here........ his post were ...well.... different. I didnt think he would last long..... but he grew on us. I enjoy his signature "the end"

 

If I had to guess I’d think Kevin would rate that turn where he wheel hopped past Wayne in a turn of the stadium section of a European GP, Assen, German, I can’t remember but it was spectacular from my shitty tv.

 

Busy as well. Doing fine.

My exit strategy is currently a major heart attack.

 

Twin shocks, drum brakes, gear lever on the right, can you imagine his reaction?

 

that’s a possibility for me as well, no one decides when.

 

I don't understand.

 

The math, or the heart attack?

 

I'm definitely more qualified to help you with one, more than the other.

 

@Steeltoe is more apt to perish from auto-erotic asphyxiation

 

Hockeheim. Older version, before it was castrated.

As it happens, going into the last chicane before the stadium, I thought “you know, I’ve been pretty good out of this chicane,” but at the same time I’m thinking back to myself, you know, last year, at this race, that I talked to Eddie Lawson and he said “That’s where Wayne beat me.” He was coming out of the last chicane, Wayne got in his draft, when Eddie sat up, Wayne passed him and won. So I knew that’s what Wayne was thinking, or at least I hoped that what he was thinking. But when I went into the chicane, I thought “you know, I’m carrying so much more speed here, I’m going to pass him and do everything I can to get to the stadium first.”

When I came out of the chicane, I felt like I had a really good run, and stayed on the far right side of the track, which is the way the corner goes into the stadium. I thought “I’m at least going to make him the long way around to take the spot, I’m not going to give him the inside line.” When I came over, he got where I could feel him starting to pull the bike back a little bit. About that time I’m just trying to turn away from the line a little bit, he took the inside, and I knew that was the best situation for me because that was easier for me to hit his draft. I would not have to chase him all the way across the track to catch his draft. At that point, I have to out-brake him. I cannot pass him at any other point except for right here.

If he beats me into this corner, he beat me for the weekend. And I just kept my eyes on his two exhaust pipes, I remember reading “Yamaha, Yamaha, Yamaha” and thought I knew where he was going to get on the brakes. And I genuinely think that he got on the brakes early. I don’t know if he got on the brakes early to try to make it into the corner quicker, thinking “just sit up, get on the brakes, try to carry more speed into the corner.” But I feel he got on the brakes earlier because when he did, my first reaction was “Oh my God, I’m going to hit him. I have to do everything I can to stop that from happening.” I yanked the bike to the right, to the inside. When I do that, that’s when the bike sets off, because at the same time I moved it to the right, I simultaneously grabbed the brakes. That’s when it starts swapping ends, and I’m thinking “this is going to be messy” because I know Wayne is on the outside.

I backshift the thing all the way down to first gear. It’s normally a second-gear corner. I’ve got the front brake, and I’m working it as much as I can to try to get the thing lined back up. I’m working the clutch to get the back end to quit hopping. It’s not so much the back end just chattering. It’s me, braking with the front, and the back and the front being out of line as I’m using the front brake. I get the thing finally slowed down and get it down the inside of the corner, and I’m going “what’s wrong, it’s not running!” And I look at the tach: 14,000 rpm. That’s as high as it will read! And I thought “oh shit!” and I grabbed another gear. And just as I grab that gear, as I look, because I thought Wayne would have had some speed to pass me on the outside, when I made that gear shift, I looked over and he was kind of stationary. And I thought “I think I’ve got a little bit on him for this next corner. I think I beat him!” But it was all just panic, panic, panic. One, to try to save the bike, and two, once again, not hit Wayne, not knock him down. If didn’t get anything done, I wanted to get it stopped enough that he passed me on the outside, I could say “well okay, I made a valiant effort but he beat me anyway.” But luck was on our side and we won.

 

I even started a thread of wanting to punch him in the face.

 

Skinny wire wheels, pre-mix, push rods, jetting changes thru the day as RAD changes, same tires all year, same tires rain or shine, no tire warmers, . . . I can almost smell the smoke emanating from the brain. Overload for sure. Somebody would get punched out just because.

Cheers,

Dave

 

Hey now, qui chang caine was a cool dude.

 

June 2003

 

Oct. 21, 2003. 0.91600438476294875308303644834201151 posts per day. Sheesh.....