Race Riot

What we get up to when we’re not putting to­gether the best mag in the world.

Fast Bikes - - CONTENTS -

It’s been an­other roller­coaster of a month. Set­ting the fast lap and win­ning at Oul­ton def­i­nitely put a smile on my face, even if get­ting a lit­tle lazy in my sec­ond of two out­ings meant I had to set­tle for fourth – de­spite set­ting the fastest lap again. You live and learn. Get­ting back on the Tri­umph has re­ally put a leap in my step. I’m back to win­ning and it’s a good feel­ing, es­pe­cially be­cause the lap times are half de­cent for a bike that’s six years old and makes 119bhp. It’s not the quick­est, but I proper love it. Be­sides, horse­power isn’t al­ways the an­swer… is it, Bruce? With two solid rounds of No Lim­its in the bank, we de­cided to push the boat out and head to Cad­well Park for my BSB se­ries de­but.

Win­ning or even points was never on the cards, but bet­ter­ing my lap times was the big aim. I did 1m 34s there ear­lier in the year, but fig­ured get­ting pulled on by the fast lads could only do me good. Or so I hoped. Be­ing in that paddock was a dream, and I couldn’t help but feel caught up in the rock­star aura. Hell, I even bought my­self some fake sun­nies to try and fit in with the su­per­stars. The feel of the place was so dif­fer­ent to No Lim­its, be­ing that bit harsher and colder. Peo­ple weren’t so chatty. It was busi­ness, which made per­fect sense. The bikes, the peo­ple and ser­vices in that paddock were off the scale. They all had a show to put on, which is how I felt when I went out in first prac­tice. Just get­ting on track was an ex­pe­ri­ence. How the hell no one got run over as the 30+ su­pers­port rid­ers charged out on track got me. It was manic, but in the best of ways.

To cut a long story short, my de­but was about as short lived as a pint in front of a pis­shead. Twenty min­utes in to first prac­tice, my foot started slip­ping off my peg, and it turned out I had an oil leak. Worst still, it was an in­cur­able oil leak. I’d been bat­ting up as high as twen­ti­eth from the get-go and I reck­oned I could’ve gone even bet­ter, but it wasn’t to be. Later that night we got packed up and pissed off home. I was gut­ted, but glad that the bike had gone wrong then and not at the penul­ti­mate round of No Lim­its. I’ve got my sights firmly set on be­ing a cham­pi­onship brides­maid, and I need all the fin­ishes I can get to make that goal a re­al­ity.

Win­ner, win­ner, chicken din­ner!

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