Jerez - October 2005 with Track Sense

Mid-afternoon Thursday, Ben (my son – 17) and I (21!) toss our gear into the back of the car and head off for Stansted looking forward to 3 adrenalin filled days at the Jerez GP circuit in southern Spain.  5 hours later, my friend Ray meets us at Jerez airport and we shoot off to the hotel, dump our stuff and grab some grub at a great steak restaurant right next door to the huge bull ring in the old town.

Friday morning, glorious blue skies.  We hurry our breakfast and head out towards the track full of anticipation, none more so than Ben.  This was to be his first time on track with his R6.  His only prior experience being tootling around the paddock area at some of the UK circuits.

Driving across the paddock towards the garages we see all the bikes in their steel cages.  We spot ours, immediately get them unstrapped and into one of the garages.  Up onto their paddock stands, check tyre pressures and fit the tyre warmers.

We wriggle into our leathers and head off for the briefing.  The fast group are first out on track so Ray and I leave Ben to the final part of the briefing and sign on and top up with petrol.

The track is damp from the overnight dew so the three sighting laps are taken gently.  Ray is on his rocket ship Gixer 1000 and me on my trusty old ‘Blade.  The instructor peels off into the pit and we up the pace, well everyone else does.  I am on new tyres so take it very easy during the first session to break them in.

Ben, meanwhile, has been making friends with the other guys who have decided to share our garage.  One is a Canadian (James) living in Gibraltar and riding a BabyBlade (400cc), two others who we met at the same event the same time last year on Suzuki 750s and another father/son sharing one bike – the Dad’s (Dave) Kawasaki 600.  The son, Marcus, was 14 and never ridden his Dad’s bike before.  He had been doing ACU test days in the UK with his 125 race bike.  Both James and Marcus would be in the novice group with Ben.

The intermediate session ended so I helped Ben get ready and watched him head out with his mother’s words ringing in my ears – “he better come back in one piece or else!”

Dave and I dashed for the lift to the roof of the paddock buildings to watch anxiously as our sons threaded their way around the circuit.  The group all make it back to paddock without incident – so far so good.

Three full sessions into the first day the carnage starts as one of the intermediate riders outbreaks himself into the hairpin at the end of the back straight, runs into the gravel trap and tips it over.  Out comes the red flag, in come the riders and out goes the recovery vehicle – fortunately the rider is OK.

Then Ray and I are on track again, the pace is now running hot like the weather.  I’m following Ray and two race bikes come past me on the brakes into turn 1.  One of them gets past Ray and the other follows Ray through turns 2 and 3, me following him.  And then the most spectacular spill I have ever witnessed.  Out of turn 3, at about 80mph, in an attempt to get past Ray before the long sweeping left-hander he gases it up to much, gets it very sideways, highsides, is catapulted at least 10ft into the air towards the inside of the track and his bike cartwheels down the outside of track shedding fibreglass as bits break off.  Then the back wheel lands hard and springs the bike high into the air, it comes down on its front wheel, the forks break, I get showered in fork oil and it slides into the gravel.  I pick my way through the debris, avoid the fallen rider, who is getting to his knees so I assume he is OK, and head back to the pits, red flags adorning all the marshal’s posts.  It transpires he broke his collarbone.

This set the trend for the next two days and more carnage ensues as riders succumb to the ‘red mist’.  The people in our garage survive with one exception; Marcus bins his Dad’s bike coming out of the fast right onto the back straight.  This breaks off the clip-on and footrest and results in a severe case of gravel rash for the fairings.  Marcus is OK so Dad and son head into Jerez in search of replacement parts.  It turned out to be a futile expedition so Saturday they went sightseeing in Gibraltar and Sunday rented one of the Track Sense’s (track day organiser) bikes.

The track closed at 6pm, back to the hotel, quick shower and then out for dinner – this time to an Italian restaurant, as Ben wanted pizza.  After relaxing in the hotel bar with a few beers and more than a few olives (scrumptious!) we crash out.

We arrive at the circuit at 9:30am to find it a hive of activity.  The fast group are out first at 10am so Ray and I get suited and booted, give the bikes the once over and head out on a damp track.  Two sessions in and it is bone dry – another marvellous day – sunshine and track temperatures of 25 degrees C.

I am very impressed with Ben’s progress and organise a session with one of the instructors for him, a really nice guy – ex-TT winner and international racer called Simmo.  He gives Ben some useful pointers and he continues to improve.

On Saturday I persuade Tony (Track Sense supremo) to let me go out with Ben and follow him around so I can see how he is doing.  I am able to give him a few more pointers and he continues to improve.

Early Saturday afternoon I had a scary moment when going around a fast left at about 110mph.  The front end suddenly went from being rock solid to feeling like marshmallow – something I had not experienced before and a very weird feeling.  The front started to tuck, my knee touched down, I gave a push with my leg lifting the bike.  Luckily the tyre regained grip otherwise I would have added to the weekend’s carnage spectacularly.

Saturday night we head off into the old town and find a fantastic Spanish restaurant in an old wine cellar – superb fish.  More beers and olives in the bar back at the hotel and then to bed.

On Sunday they promote Ben to the intermediate group and he has another session with Simmo.  He has come on in leaps and bounds and by the end of the day he is running in the top half of the group lapping in 2 mins 16 secs – I had been lapping in 2 mins 08 secs – I’d better watch out!

My weekend ended prematurely (I missed most of the second to last and the final session) when my rear tyre went off.  These manifested itself when the bike went sideways at the right-hand hairpin at the end of the back straight, and again at the next right two corners on.  Left hand up to let the other riders know something was awry and I head back to the pits thinking oil was getting on to the tyre.  Nothing, so out I go again, same hairpin, same sideways motoring – not advisable on two wheels unless you are speedway or supermoto!  So back to the pits to seek advice from the tyre technician – “tyre’s shagged mate.” Apparently a combination of wear and overheating caused the oil in the rubber to be released which then worked its way to the edge of the tyre – thus the slides!

Ben finished the day very proud of his progress, as indeed I was for him – chip off the old block!  We get home at 3am Monday morning.