One of the first people I ran into at registration in Shannonville was
Patrick from Nouvel Air. His girlfriend Sonia was there with her own racing
machine, that's her rear wheel I'm catching up to in the pic.
FAST was a BLAST, as expected. The morning sessions went well, and I was
running even with Jamie, another guy in my group, for fastest lap times. It
started raining just as we broke for lunch and I figured we were done for
the day which is when they started issuing rainsuits. My group kinda put
their heads together and we decided we'd see how it went for the first 2
groups before we decided if we were going to go out on the track as it was
really pouring by then. The first groups seemed to be going awfully fast,
scary fast in fact, and we all agreed that we were not going to go anywhere
near as quick as they were. When it was our turn we started off slow, and I
didn't notice that our instructors were gradually picking up the pace. It
wasn't until Lap 6 as I came screaming down the big straightaway in front of
the grandstand and started to set up for turn 1 that I realized we were
going about 150 kilometers an hour in the pouring rain and I was having FUN!
I slid off the seat and leaned in hard for the turn, rolling on even more
throttle as I was passing Kent on the inside when he went just a little wide
and I saw an opening. As I came out of the turn I passed Jamie and his
GSX-R. Problem was, I didn't pass them simultaneously. First I passed Jamie,
spread-eagle like a starfish, spinning on his back as he slid up the track,
shredded pieces of rainsuit trailing out behind him. A second or two later I
caught up to the bike, spinning on it's side, trailing shredded pieces of
plastic, fiberglass, and various assorted footpegs, shifters and handles.
As I drew abreast it disappeared off the track and vanished in a fountain of
mud and turf. Two thoughts flashed through my mind.: "I hope he bought the
extra insurance." and "Now I'm the fastest guy on the track!"
I started setting up for turn 2, my entire body off the seat, head up,
steering with the inside arm, outside arm relaxed, leaning in, calculating,
analyzing, aiming for the perfect turning point - apex - exit point, and
right into turn 3, pushing it well beyond what I would under normal
circumstances, secure in the knowledge that "It can't happen to Me!". In the
pouring rain.
Jamie was fine. He sat out the next round, and after paying the $250
deductible was back out on the track for the rest of the afternoon.
I got my comeuppance later in the day going into turn 5 when I ran out of
track and went splashing through the mud as the wall of tires came at me.
Despite my doing everything wrong, I managed to get the thing stopped a
couple of feet short of the wall, and returned to the Pits to be set upon by
a laughing group of Instructors armed with push broom, scrub brushes. and
buckets. After they cleaned the tires off they sent me back out with the
admonition " Take it easy on the next lap, they're probably going to be
slippery". Slippery? On turns 5 and 6 I was already spending more time
trying to dodge the machines that were going sideways headed for the
MotoCross Zone than I spent driving my own bike. What the heck did they mean
by slippery?
Anyway, I survived the day, and now I know how to drive really FAST in the
rain.
Spent the night at Jean Hickmans place in Barrie, and after dinner we drank
large amounts of red wine as we watched skydiving videos late into the
night. Thanks for all your hospitality Jean, and I look forward to returning
the favor.
The drive took much longer than expected, in addition to the expected delay
in customs, I got stuck in traffic on the 401 and it took 2 1/2 hours to
cover 10 kilometers. I was stationary for so long I put the laptop on the
passenger seat and started editing pictures. When I finally passed the
accident they were loading the burnt-out skeletons of a couple of tractor
trailers onto flatbeds and into dump trucks using a crane and a front-end
loader. No matter how bad my day might go, somebody else's has already gone
a lot worse.
Finally reached Skydive Chicago on Friday night just after sunset. Man, this
place is HUGE! I got lost in the trailer park looking for Kelly and couldn't
find my way out. In addition to a huge covered packing area there's a
restaurant, Tiki Bar located next to the man made lake filled with regularly
filtered water, pro shop, WiFi, showers, laundry, and more.
Without Matt to egg me on I've been doing a pretty relaxed pace, 22 jumps in
3 days. There are 2 Twin Otters flying up to 30 loads a day each, plus a
Casa doing a dozen more. They're doing 100 to 130 Tandems a day. I've
already inquired about work when I retire. Larry and Joanne arrived
yesterday, and it's a good party so far, but Matt1 Matt2 and Bob are greatly
missed.
It's now Monday night and I'm getting ready to head over to the Flying
Hellfish Toga Party. Phil says he'll lend me a sheet he stole from an
ambulance. I'm afraid to ask for details.
In short, I'm having no fun at all. And Gerry, the next time I go anywhere,
you are the first person I'm going to invite.
I'll send pics of the Toga party when I get the chance
Crazy Larry
