Or, to paraphrase Freddie Mercury, “Get on your bike and ride!”
So there I am, signing in for a trackday evening at Brands Hatch, queuing with all the other race suited heroes when the admin lady of the No Limits event asks quite matter of factly.
“Are you fast group or slow group?” “Well, er, I’m on a TZR 125 so even if I’m fast I’’ll be slow.” I expected chuckles or the odd tutt from those around, but no one batted and eyelid. “Slow it is then” she says and without further ado clips a blue band around my wrist. Licence inspection next, then off I went to take the 125 to the sound testing area, blipping furiously to warm the motor in case he wants me to really rev up my tempremental two stroke.
The man smiles as I ride up. “125? That won’t make enough noise to annoy anyone. Not physically possible.” He simply applies a sticker to the screen and waves me away.
Well, that’s me ready to rock then. In all honesty I thought I’d get short shift bringing a tiddler to a trackday.
I’d checked by phone beforehand that they’d let a 125 on the circuit. (Castle Combe don’t allow anything under 250). No Limits said fine and no one laughed or stared when I rolled up with it strapped to my trailer. I shared a garage with a jovial cockney R6 rider who had a thing about tyres. His had to be well warmed for every session and he checked the pressures regularly throughout the evening.
He was a little taken aback when I told him the TZR had a GPR80 on the front and a Sportsmax on the rear which was 150/60 when it should be a 140 and that both hoops were over 8 years old according to the tyre wall data. And, having no idea what the pressures should be, I guessed at 28 front, 33 rear. “Good luck” was all he says, with an expression that implied he was expecting it all to end badly.
It all sounds sounds a bit hap-hazard but I must point out that I’m not quite as cavalier about my safety on the track as it appears. The bike in question is a TZR125RR Belgarda, a Yamaha put together in Italy. It has Brembo brakes and rims, Marzocchi upside down forks and an Arrow exhaust.
New engine oil, air filter, plug, fresh 2 stroke oil (£13 a litre, Jeez!), new chain and sprockets, everything tightened and checked. Each group follows an instructor out for three slow laps before a shortened 15 minute first session so I had plenty of time to get the temperature gauge off the stop, make sure nothing fell off (including me!) and try to get a feel for the tyres.
Three laps later we duly pull in and are then fed back out at short intervals. I take another few laps to slowly build up speed, getting overtaken a lot in the process, then start to push on. By the end of the session I’m learning the bike, how it reacts to the track, testing the tyres and, more inportantly, sussing who’s fast and who’s slow in my group.
A tyre inspection reveals they are wearing nicely, no peels or scrubbing, all be it with rather fat chicken strips either side of the rear boot. Well, I did say it was oversized.
Now I’m ready to rock. Flat stick I can gets a gnats over 90mph. At that speed there’s no need to brake at the end of the start/finish straight. Just drop one cog and peel into Paddock Hill bend. The secret with little bikes is to carry as much corner speed as possible. I stuffed so many other riders through the bends it was amazing and really satisfying. In a short while, my faith in the tyres is complete and I have to adopt an extreme style for the right handers. Both bum cheeks off the bike with the back of my left thigh on the seat.
This lessens the lean angle, greatly helping prevent me grinding any more off the underside of the expansion chamber of the Arrow exhaust. The loud, metallic scraping noise did seem to intimidate some of the riders I overtook. At one point, a marshall hangs out from where the chequered flag eventually flies, proffering a placard which reads NO CLOSE PASSES. What moi? I get into a three lap dice with a Gixxer 600 S-RAD. By the time I’m halfway along the start/finish straight, I’m already flat out.
The S-RAD blasts past. It takes me three quarters of a lap to catch him, making up time through every corner until I take him round the outside at Clearways. On the straight the S-RAD blasts past. And away we go again.
The chequered flag comes out and I pull in to the garage, sweating from the effort but with a grin from ear to ear. A few people stroll by, put their heads in and ask, “Is that a 125?’ I just nod. “Nice one. Goes well.” Mr S-RAD appears and we smile broadly at each other. “Great dice” he says “really good fun. We were well matched out there.” “Yeah, cheers mate. Good one.” I smile back but really, on a sports 600, I shouldn’t have seen him for dust. But hey, that’s trackdays.
The real point of this all is that what really matters is that you should get out there and have a go. You can take just about anything onto a trackday and I guarantee you’ll have a brilliant time. As long as your bike’s mechanically sound, you’re properly kitted out and the organisers are happy, crack on and have a bash! I mean, look at me and my little 125. Who says size is everything?
I want to go faster, I want to go faster..
