MOTO GUZZI V7 III
Ever fancied taking a café racer endurance racing? No, we haven’t either, but here at Fast Bikes, we’ll try anything once…
When an email landed in my inbox from Moto Guzzi HQ asking me if I could spare a weekend to fly over to Italy’s Adriatic coast to race a fully prepared Moto Guzzi V7 III in the ‘Trofeo Moto Guzzi Fast Endurance Championship’, I quickly replied with a ‘yes’ and booked some flights, before they had chance to realise that they must have had me confused with someone else; someone who’s actually ridden a Guzzi before, perhaps. Once I’d nailed my knob to the proverbial mast and accepted the invite of a lifetime, I thought I had better read the small print in Simon-from-Moto-Guzzi’s email (Uccio to his friends). We were to be competing on a race-prepped V7 III, in an hour-long endurance race. I’d be competing in a two-man team alongside Fast Bikes alumnus and balding internet sensation Al Fagan. The ex-bin man’s no stranger to bike racing, having competed in British Superbikes (a long, long time ago) and then a road race on an island in the Irish Sea that nobody’s heard of, so despite him piling on the pounds in the latter years of his career, I knew he’d be more than capable of bringing something to the table.
The bikes had been kitted out with the official Moto Guzzi racing kit, which has been developed by none other than Vitto Guareschi of Guareschi Moto. The same Vitto Guareschi that raced in World Superbikes and Supersport, spent eight years as Ducati’s chief development rider, and has been Team Manager for the Ducati MotoGP Team. The kit consisted of clip-ons, rearsets, a café-racer style screen and body kit, Öhlins shocks and a racing exhaust. You know what they say – you can’t polish a turd, but you can roll it in glitter.
The scene of the action was to be Adria International Raceway and the event was to be held over two days. Qualifying on the Saturday, with the gruelling, hour-long race on Sunday. Stepping into the championship as utter wildcards, having never raced a bike of this ilk before, Fagan and I had our work well and truly cut out. In a field of Italians, we were representing Great Britain and all that’s good about her. Freedom. Hope. Brexit – just kidding about that last one. Uccio made it quite clear in no uncertain terms that nothing but the very best performance would do, we simply had to bring our A game; and we did.
Without wishing to sound like I’m making excuses before we’ve even begun (even though I am), I must first tell you that all the V7s which were lined up under the Moto Guzzi awning had new tyres on. Well, all but one. Bike number 37 didn’t. I can’t be certain, but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say they were from last season. We pestered and pestered and pestered our newly appointed Team Principal Uccio to hook us up with some new rubber, but to no avail. We would have to make do.
Qualifying soon came round and I was to take the first 15-minute stint. It was barely long enough to learn the circuit, but by the end of it I was roughly midfield and I’d got half an idea of how best to ride the bike. After my 15 minutes, I was signalled into the pits where we performed a Suzuka-style quick change over. I handed the reigns to the tubby vlogger, gave him an encouraging slap on the back and watched him trundle down pit lane.
Al’s lap time was a smidge slower than mine so we didn’t improve on our position, but there was another qualifying session later in the day, so it was still all to play for. After Q1 Team GB had a quick debrief, where we made the unanimous decision that the bike was far too soft. Not having any tools, we couldn’t adjust the suspension ourselves and the powers that be maintained that suspension didn’t need changing. According to them, the standard set up was ‘perfecto’. Again, we would have to make do.
Soon it was time for Q2 and once again I was first to step up to the plate. The bike was still as soft and squidgy as before, and with no tyre warmers it took a couple of laps to build the confidence to push, but before long I was slashing my lap times, lap after lap. That was, of course, until I threw the thing at the scenery. I think I was about to set a lap record (it’s a shame, but we’ll never know) when, in the final turn, my footpeg struck the Tarmac and pitched me off the bike. There was a little bit of damage, but the main issue was that the bike was stranded in the infield, and the marshals wouldn’t let me cross the track until the session was over. Handily, for us, the session was red flagged due to an incident elsewhere so we were able to get the bike back to the pits, where Mr. Guareschi and his band of merry men started beavering away at the bike in order to get it fixed in time for the shiny-headed Bristolian’s qualifying session. They had to replace the throttle and rear brake lever, and bend quite a few bits and bobs back into shape. Miraculously though, despite my attempts to the contrary, Al only missed a lap or two of his session and was, like me, able to go faster than he’d been earlier in the day.
We qualified 10th, so to get our hands on any silverware was going to be a tall order, but we weren’t giving up. As a team, we were still unhappy with the set up of the bike, so tried again to have the Italian folk help. It wasn’t until I had Uccio threaten them with violence that they relented and reluctantly stiffened up our steed.
Raceday
After an early night and definitely no beer at all, Team GB arrived bright and early at the circuit. Had we realised that our race wasn’t until the afternoon, we would have likely stayed in bed a bit longer, but we didn’t. There was a bit of a wait, so I decided to lay down for a little bit and get an extra
40 winks, just to make sure I was in tip-top condition for the race (and not because I was tired from staying up all night, talking shit and drinking. Because I wasn’t).
Unfortunately, I only managed 30 winks before Uccio woke me up – I wasn’t allowed to go to sleep; he’d had a phone call from Mr. Moto Guzzi who’d demanded I be woken up as I was making the place look untidy (true story). Charming. Still, I suppose it
saved me getting tea-bagged by Fagan.
Eventually it was our time to shine. The Le Mans start involved some running, so we decided it was better for everyone if I did it. With all the bikes lined up, I waited for the Italian flag to drop which, when it duly did, I set off running. Al was holding it between his legs with both hands so I threw myself on it; I could tell instantly it was harder than it’d ever been before. I sparked her up, dropped the clutch and away I went, leaving the roly-poly motorcycling A-lister to climb back over the pit wall and watch from the side-lines. The bike set up was head and shoulders better than it had been and I’m in no doubt that if we’d have had a bike that felt that good from the start, both the Jason Statham lookalike and myself would have managed drastically faster qualifying laps.
Unfortunately though, the next issue was the transmission – at first I thought it was just a chronic false neutral issue that required some serious care during corner entry, but after a dozen or so laps nursing the thing around, the issue proved fatal as the drive disappeared altogether. Once again I was stranded on the infield, branded a fool for a) breaking the bike again and b) getting stranded on the infield again. I tried to persuade them to let me cross the track to get back to the pits, but the marshals weren’t having any of it and poor old Fagan had to watch the entire race from the side-lines, having not completed one lap in anger.
Although we enjoyed less success than we’d hoped, the plump YouTube personality and I both relished sticking it to the Italians for the little time we were able to. Armed with what we know now about how to ride (and set up) a Moto Guzzi V7 III, there’s no doubt in my mind that Team GB could prove to be a formidable force, should we be invited back in 2020. It’s all down to you now, Uccio. I’ll be waiting by the phone.