PPIHC - Friday - Qualifying

The 2:30 am routine is getting tiresome. Not getting enough sleep is starting to wear on me. Last day of practice and the motorbikes are on the lower section from the Start line to just below Glen Cove. It's also our 'qualifying' day - our fastest times will determine our start order in class for the race on Sunday. Setting off at one minute intervals on the day, qualifying doesn't really give one any advantage. More for safety and the psychological effect.

 

Early morning setup.

We're all setup in the dark paddock just below the start line before the eastern skies start glowing. We go through the normal routine and I stretch and get warmed up for our sighting run. Ant and Travis have the Bug Red Duck's tyres all warmed up, engine warm, all fuelled up and checked over once more.

We start the sighting run about 15 minutes later than on the top section... it takes longer for the light to reach us in the low forest than it does higher up on the side of a mountain. In the dim glow of morning, we set off in single-file, carving a line of exhaust noise through the fast, flowing lower section.

 

Coaching from a PPIHC legend :-)

With only four real switchbacks on the section, there are over fifty faster turns. Some flat-out, some long, lazy, constant-radius 180 degree arcs. Combinations of lefts and rights... some double and even a few triple apexes.

It's a beautiful section of track... the biggest challenge is that through the forest, a lot if the turns look the same. I've been memorising the combinations in the onboard videos for the last six months... it certainly helps. I kinda know where I am and what is next... I'm thinking two turns ahead, making sure I'm in the right place to get through them fast and flowing.

 

Waiting at the top of the section with Tomasz Gombos.

We all wait at the end of the section as the sky fills with light... soon were carving our way back. Right, left, right, left, right, left, tight right... left, left... must remember that. I try a get the sequences burned in my mind going backwards too.

Debrief, tyres warmed, me warmed. "The 8 mile sign with the bear on it is your marker for the slower corners." Travis is giving me valuable advice. I'm taking it all in.

 

Gary Trachy and Michelle Disalvo.

Mark Miller and Marcel Irnie on thier electric bikes.

Next run I'm on my own... trying to get the sequence if turns and my pace right. The Big bike is lazy and I've got to man-handle it around. There is a delay and we're waiting at the end of the section for a while.

Back to the paddock. A Japanese sidecar team have been having problems with their Formula 1 outfit... problems started on Tuesday's practice. The machine wouldn't start. They have been working on it since Tuesday Angus hang yet get a single run in. They're at every practice. Manuals out, checking, stripping down, reassembling, replacing, scratching their heads, discussing, checking, trying different things. The motor didn't even splutter... just cranks over. They are based out of a motel just down the street from our cottage. Every time we drove past, we'd see them on the forecourt working to fix the outfit. They spent days on it. Never once being upset or pissed off... just diligently working away to try fix it.

They were in the paddock opposite us working away again. As we were waiting for my second run, we heard their outfit burst into life. The Suzuki 1000 motor was alive! The whole paddock burst out in cheering, clapping and whoops! High fives and big hugs from half of the paddock... these guys just had massive grins on their faces as they then scrambled to get the outfit back together in time for a few practice/qualifying runs.

On my second time run, I'm 8 seconds faster than the first. Masahito Watanabe arrives at the top with us in his formula 1 to more cheers and hugs. There is another long delay as we wait at the end of the section. One if the other sidecars has gone off. It takes time to recover the bent outfit but both the driver and monkey are OK. We're running out if time. It's almost 8 by the time we head back down. Curfew is at 8:30. 

Back to the start line and I turn the bike around and join the small queue... I need to get at least one more run in. Cold tyres, but getting track time us more important. Soon I roll up to the starter and am ready for my last practice run. 

A minute later, the starter shakes his head and holds up a red flag. Shit. We wait... the minutes ticking away.

At 08:25, the starter gets the all clear and I'm off for my final practice run. The section is only 5 or so miles long... barely enough time to warm the tyres up. I just gotta take it easy. Despite that, I cut another 8 seconds off my last run. I qualify 4th in class with a 4:52 on the section. I'm way off the pace of the top three. Just need more track time. Masahito qualifies as fastest sidecar with just 2 runs!

World-famous dirt-bike riding Baja

Practice was just over 3 1/2 hours long. 33 riders/sidecar drivers over a 5 mile run that takes about 5 minutes. We get only 3 runs at it... 15 miles on track. As a comparison, TT/Manx GP practice runs around the same length of time... but with anything from 100 to 200 riders on a 37.7 mile course that takes around 20 minutes per lap. On an evening's practice, one will normally get 4 laps in... 150miles on track! 

This is the biggest challenge for me at Pikes Peak... so little time on a bike I don't know and learning 156 turns I have never ridden before. I am not a professional rider and want to come home to my wife in Austria... this is no place to take chances. I have no hope of getting a podium unless one of the faster guys don't make it to the top. I just gotta take it easy, enjoy the ride and get to the top.

 

Record setter 747 at the Lone Duck

 Cowboy makes the best smoked brisket I've ever had!!

A bit disappointed with the limited track time, we pack up and head down the Hill to the Lone Duck campground where Lisa (the landlord) cooks us pancakes and sausages for breakfast. Where we make plans for the bike prep and race day on Sunday. More shit coffee but we're so tired we still get our heads down for a few hours after.

 

Bumper-to-bumper all the way back to Denver...

That afternoon, we were back at the Lone Duck feasting on some home-smoked brisket that Cowboy had brought. It was fantastic! Then I drove back up to Denver airport through rush-hour traffic to pickup my beautiful wife who is out for the weekend. Back to Colorado Springs to catch the last hours of the 'Fan Fest'.

A few blocks in downtown Colorado Springs is closed off and they had food stalls, some race-related stalls and a few of the race teams setup. All to fastest qualifiers are also all setup and signing autographs. There was a mini arena with displays and some Freestyle MX. By 10 we were cream-knackered and headed back to the cottage for some sleeeeeeeeep.

PPIHC - Thursday - The Big Girl Back in Business

The third day in a row, up at 02:30 and up the mountain to ride bikes before dawn. We were on the top section for official practice... the scene of the of the Big Red Duck shitting herself less than 48 hours before. We setup on the road. Head-torches on, Ant and Travis go through everything on the bike again. Checking all bolts and fasteners. The electronic settings: traction control on low, ABS off, suspension as before, heated grips... "Error". Ooops. Ah, Travis replaced those fat, stodgy grips with slim, grippier race items. A compromise.

  

The dream team prep the Duck...

Roll-call. Briefing. Prayers. We wait for the pre-sunrise glow below us. 05:10 we get the signal for the sighting run. Braaaaaap! Braaaaaap! That big, torquey vee-twin feels like an old pair of slippers. They're in my blood. We get to the summit with no fuss. Engine pulling as well as it can at over two miles above sea level. No flat spots as we had two days ago. 

  

Thanks Ant for some awesome pics!

The top section has seven fast, blind, mostly off-camber left-handers. They all look kinda the same... a steep  rocky incline coming down to the tar on then left and just blue sky on the right - looks like you're about to ride off a cliff. The challenge is remembering which one is which and how fast you can take them. Near the top, just before the last two switchbacks from the muddy, potholed summit is one of these challenging turns. Travis lost his good friend and road race mentor here last year: Carl Sorenson. Unofficially known as Carl's, I treat it with caution.

I only know Carl by association, but as with the TT course, when I pass a place where a racer I have known has fallen, I crack them a nod and whisper 'Godspeed' under my breath. Godspeed Carl.

  

Travis and Carl, PPIHC 2014

 Pic by Sam Christmas.

Pics by Jamie Price.

Another 'challenge' on the top section is the wildlife. Last year there were mountain goats. I didn't see any on Thursday morning, but there were loads of marmots. 'Whistle-pigs' in local speak. These cat-sized critters mooch about sun-bathing on the course and rocks. They're either lazy, not bothered about approaching bikes, or play 'dare' with their mates. If you're cranked over at full lean and hit one of those fat greasy bastards, they'd probably smear down the track and you'd be off. Take care lad.

 

 

Sticker wars! Spot the Newbold's Motorbike Shop sticker on teh Squadra Alpina gear...

It's bleak, dim, cold and windy up top. I'm glad to be following the bike ahead back down to the temporary paddock at Devil's Playground in the twilight. Debrief with Travis and Ant. Warmers and jacket on. I try get my head around which turn is which. The onboard footage I have been studying for the last six months were all shot with wide-angle, go-pro like lenses. The track looks wider and the turns look a lot further apart and open on screen than they are in reality. I talk through the combinations with Travis. Where to be careful, where to ride the track as it looks and give it some beans.

 

 

Soon, the tyres are up to temp and I'm out for my first run. I treat it as a fast Sunday blat on my local roads... always looking for gravel, critters and other challenges on the course.

Back down... second run. I push a bit harder, setting up turns and carving wider, faster arcs. Just after Carl's is the second-last switchback - Cog-Cut. So named because the cog railway from Manitou Springs in the valley below (where our cottage is) to the summit, passes just meters from the edge of the track. The TT course has tramlines at the Bungalow, Pikes Peak has a cog railway.

 

 

The approach to Cog-Cut is bumpy as hell with patches of new tar and repairs everywhere. The extreme weather conditions up there cause severe frost heave and road distortion. You're also carrying a lot of speed from the fast Carl's. I push my braking further down the track than before...

The front tyre ploughs into the valleys and skids with little birdie chirps over the hills on the approach. The back end bouncing from side to side. "Oh shit." I'm getting in a bit hot. I don't want to risk a silly lowside by turning her in on the brakes on cool tyres up there... so I point the big girl uphill just past the edge of the armco and hang onto those anchors. "Whoooah there girl". She's very overweight for a racer... and takes some stopping.

I have enough road in front of me... just get her stopped then turn her on the edge of the road and get going again. Simples. I get up to the white line at the edge of the road... but the verge I expected over the line isn't there. It's been eroded away by a gully... flowing with water. 

In slow-motion, I slide the front wheel off the tar onto gravel and into the gully. Clunk! Crap! I get her into neutral and try rock her backwards. She's not budging. There is a fist-sized rock wedged behind my back wheel. Forwards. She's just too big and heavy. Fuck. I need help.

 

The view back from Cog-Cut...

Fortunately, there is a marshal on the inside of the corner. He radios the paddock then comes reluctantly across to help out while other bikes come skipping and squealing with a similar back-end dance into the turn. Glad it's not only me having difficulty with this braking zone.

 

 

The exit of Carl's and the whooped-out run to Cog-Cut... with a fat whistle-pig watching the games...

 ... handy to have a shitter right there. It was locked... wtf is the point of that?

Made a decent bike-stand though.

We get the BRD loose and park her against a locked portaloo until the session is finished. I amble back down with the group. I get back to looks of relief and concern from Ant and Travis. The marshal had radio'd that #40 is off... sorry guys :-( technically, I was off... but in reality I was standing on the bike at the edge of the track, annoyed at the silliness I was in, my boots filling with freezing water.

 

This wee mascot from Isle of Man keeps me safe...

We manage to get another 2 runs in. Bike going well... us going faster. On the last run, my Squadra Alpina coach, Carlin Dunne follows me. His advice is to turn in later on those tricky left-handers. They're blind, the track curves left on the entry and you just see sky on the right... the comparitive safety of the rock-strewn inside is the lesser. It's the known known. Too tempting and you start drifting toward it before turning in. They goad you in like Sirens. Resist. Resist....

Carlin Dunne checking my crap lines...

We only get 5 runs... this is like going to Brands Hatch for the first time and riding around for 5 minutes in sub-zero temperatures before tackling twenty-odd turns with no run-off at race pace. That is all the practice and learning you get around here.

I'm still way off finding the right line and speed. I'm a slow learner. Shit. Oh well. 5 runs is better than none... and the bike didn't blow-up . We're back in business!

We load up and head down the mountain and to Uncle Sam's Pancake House to meet Cowboy for some super-unhealthy breakfast. Cowboy is one of Travis' long-term sponsors. A larger than life,  Kansas born and bred, Vietnam Vet, stand-up guy and is so into Triumphs he's a got a shop full of them: Tommy's Triumph Shop.

We debfief, make plans for the next 24 hours share bike stories and laughs. Back to the cottage for a midday siesta. Prep the Duck for the last practice on Friday then fill the rest of the afternoon with chores like grocery shopping, a 'buzz-cut' at the local 'Randy's Olde tyme Barber Shoppe' and do the laundry.

 

 

Sippin' Sasparilla - never knew what it was before this... now I know. Tastes like Deep Heat muscle rub! Wierdly not too bad...

 Randy's Olde Tyme Barber Shoppe

 

Good 'ole boys in the Shoppe.

The laundromat was amusing... stereotypical... just like in the movies. The instructions for the machines are so ling-winded, they're like a manual printed in 10 size font on posters. So I ask the guy working there how they work."Heck I dunno. I only work here." He drawls. As this foreigner bungles through the process, I get his stock answer three times. I stop short asking him something else just to take the piss... the old guy really didn't know shit from shaiola... he just worked there!

 

 Heck I dunno. I only work here.

Although it was Thursday Mushroomy Monday was still open!

 

Been looking for Mexican wrestling masks for a while now...

 

 Fancy a tat too?

Manitou Springs is an eclectic hippy-cowboy place.

On our first 'restful' evening (not driving the three to four hour round-trip to Denver), we go into Manitou Springs downtown to meet Cowboy, have a wander around and find some great steaks at the Keg. A good day on the Hill!

PPIHC - Sunday - Up, up and up!

Up early on Sunday... we're trying to keep on British time to help with the killer 2a.m. starts for the next week. We headed out to the Lone Duck to meet Travis and give the Big Red Duck a few runs up the mountain.

Travis took her up the course first and we followed in the van. Oh boy...

The on-board footage doesn't show the elevation. Average gradient: 7 degrees. This place is steep! It just goes up and up and up. The start line is at 9 390 feet. The course runs 12.42 miles to the summit of Pikes Peak - 14 115 feet!

The first third is through forest. Fast sequences of lefts and rights... some tight little turn to catch you out. The next third has the famous 'Double-yous'. A sequence of tight switchbacks... up, up and up above the treeline. The top third is desolate, wind-beaten and snow drifts - some fast flowing sections and turns that look like they are at the end of the world!

It is utterly spectacular. The views from the top are immense... hundreds of miles in all directions.

We crawl back down from the summit where the air is thin, the wind cold and the sun intense. There are park Rangers all over and the 25mph speed limit is enforced. I had Travis' bike in the back of the van and despite using 1st and 2nd gear, I still managed to cook the brakes only half-way down.

My turn next on the BRD I follow Travis up. He ponts out a few things along the way. It's frustrating going so slow and behind lines of cars. Some of the drivers are really stressing on the road. I just want to twist that throttle wide open and carve some lines up the mountain!

The BRD feels good. Plush and well mannered. Loads of torque and power... she pulls from low down and keeps shunting all the way through the revs. Even up at the top section with hardly any air to breathe, she is strong. It's impossible to tell what she'll be like at speed... but she felt comfy and everything was in then right place.

Back down and then Travis takes me up in the van and talks me throughn the whole course. Danger areas, corners that'll catch you, late apexes, straight-lines, off-camber, gravel on the course, ruts and bumps... and where to hold her flat-out. There is so much to take in.

By the time we get back down again, we need to head to the Rookies registration. We sign-on with no worries. It seems almost too easy - there is always something... nope... that's it. All signed-on. Cool!

We get back to Manitou Springs, prep the bike for tomorrow's tech inspection then find a pub and get some good steaks down our throats. It's been a long day. We're tired... windburned, sunburned. The magnificance of Pikes Peak also burned in out minds.