PUNKS PEAK: THE HILLCLIMB
I’m on our XSR, revving the engine at the start line. In front of me I can see 100 metres of tarmac complete with centre line. It disappears around a bend, and I know there’s a further 300 metres to the finish line: two right handers separated by a dead straight final sprint. Next to me is the candy-red German Yard Built bike. Its nickname is The Apex Ruler and it’s wearing Supercorsas not knobblies… I look across to see that both his hands are at the controls. His clutch hand should be touching his helmet. ‘We’re doing the hand thing,’ I shout over. He doesn’t know what I’m on about. Somebody explains it to him, but the girl with all the flags is getting ready to drop. Our engines gun. Flags go up and I get too excited and reach for the clutch too early. Reset hand. Flag’s dropped. The candy red is already dust by the time I’m in gear. How has he launched so quickly? My front lifts past massed ranks of photographers. Second gear. My brain’s still thinking about how the German left the line so quick. Then I realise my throttle’s not on the stop. I twist it home and hunker down for the mid-sprint S-bend. We spray through a small stream of water running across the track and turn in for the finish. The finish line flashes past. He’s won, and I’ll claim joint fifth. Not bad for my first race since primary school sports days.
‘The candy red is already dust by the time I’m in gear. How has he launched so quickly?’ nd