I'm back (and in one piece!)

Well, I'm back from my day at the track, learning to flick monstrously overpowered motorcycles around hairpin turns courtesy of the fine instructors at the California Superbike School. The short review: I had a blast! Read on for the longer version.

The class starts with a 7AM checkin at Laguna Seca, so I opted to spend the night in Salinas at a hotel rather than slog down early Tuesday morning. The weather was cool and overcast. I quickly made friends with a couple of the other early birds, including Jose (who had flown in from Florida specifically for the joy of riding Laguna Seca) and Reed, who was doing the more advanced Level 2 class. Once we'd been checked in, we were shown to a classroom (pronounced 'unheated garage') for the first seminar with Keith Code, the director of the school. Keith is something of a legend, having trained several world class riders through this same school, but he's a really friendly and helpful guy, able to explain the complex mechanics of motorcycle riding in a very clear way.

The first seminar was largely dedicated to learning our way around the track and the rules of the riding sessions. Reed mentioned that the track was 'very slick' yesterday, resulting in no less that five (!) riders going off the track in the first lap! Not encouraging to us total newbs, but we stayed the course. So we put on our leathers and our helmets and went out to the bikes.

The school uses Kawasaki ZX-6R motorcycles, with 636cc motors that produce approximately 130 hp (that's 10 less than my 1990 Eagle Talon, if you're counting). These bikes weigh in at 363 lbs. without gasoline or rider. (Eagle Talon: 2549 lbs.) Yikes. That said, they're remarkably well-mannered if you're not grabby with the throttle or the brakes, and have enough torque that you can run an entire racetrack in 4th gear. Which is exactly what I did. In fact, except in exceptional situations, I didn't touch the brakes or the gear shift the entire time I was on the track! Amazing machines.

Needless to say, the orientation laps are crucial, as you need to know what to expect. The higher-level riders are already out on the track as we're lining up to start our orientation run, when first one, then two riders run off the track in turn 11, the last turn before the pit straightaway. Eek. No severe injuries, though, just some broken plastic and bruised egos. (Yes, Virginia, you really do have to warm up the tires before they turn into the sticky gumballs we all know and love!) They get sorted out, and then we're off.

A word about Laguna Seca - it's a monster of a track. It's 2.3 miles of twists, turns, ups and downs. Perhaps the most famous feature of the track is The Corkscrew, turns 8a and 8b. Imagine you're driving up your favorite steep San Francisco-style hill. It levels out a bit at the top, then drops into a steep, sharp left hand turn followed immediately (and I mean immediately) by a sharp right hand turn. As you exit the second turn, you realize you're now fifty feet lower than you were at the top of the hill. It's terrifying to behold, literally lurking beyond the innocent-seeming straightaway exiting turn 7. There are various other sharp turns as well - here's a map if you're curious.

Once we've pored over the tangle of asphalt twice, it's back into the classroom for our next seminar. We had five classroom segments in all, each covering a different aspect of basic riding technique. I learned more about riding today than I have in the last four years, and that includes an MSF course. Once you've covered a topic like throttle control in the corner or choosing an entry point, it's off to the track to drill on what you've learned. The instructors trail you from time to time, evaluating your form. Then they'll pull in front of you, and have you follow them while executing the drill. Hopefully, you get a thumbs up and it's back to practicing! Everything they taught felt extremely natural, like I'd just been waiting for someone to put words to it so I could agree with them.

Of course, not everyone was so into the lesson plan. On the first lap after the orientation session, no less than eight people ran off the track from our group of twenty-one, and another two crashed, one requiring an ambulance. (He later returned to the track with a sheepish grin and a broken collarbone. Warm up your tires, people!) At this point, I'm largely petrified, and resort to going very slowly and methodically through the turns as I practice my technique. This helps my confidence immensely, as properly performing each drill rewards the rider with increased control, a steadier bike, and a big ol' grin.

By the fourth session (the first after lunch), I'm feeling reasonably confident. At this point, however, several million years of human evolution decides to point out that maybe it has a few tricks up its sleeve, too. Consider the following truisms:

• In situations of duress (or in my case, bald-faced terror), your eyes will seek out and fixate on that most likely to do you harm.
• The oldest rule in the book with respect to piloting vehicles of any sort is 'You go where you look.'

Ah, yes. So there I am, entering the infamous Corkscrew for the thirteenth time that day. I've leaned the bike over, I've got my line, my entry speed is well within my comfort zone. But I get a good look at the huge rut in the dirt on the outside edge of turn 8a. Man, that's deep. I hated going over that sort of thing on a mountain bike. Hey, why am I running so wide?

RABBLE RABBLE BUMP BUMP

WHOA! I ran off the course! But thanks to the curve of turn 8b (and my level-headed refusal to secure a vise-like grip on the wildly oscillating handlebars, thus insuring I take a dive), I'm right back on the course! I'm a lucky SOB! I'm on top of the world! I'm... Hold on. I should've started turning immediately, shouldn't I? That's a lot more dirt in front of me.

RABBLE RABBLE BUMP BUMP CRASH

And there I am, lying on my back in a pile of dirt, cursing myself for having been so clever. I'm fine (a bruised calf), the bike was fine (I laid it down in the dirt, thankfully - they had it back in service for another rider within three minutes of starting to look at it), but my pride was irrevocably wounded. I could hear evolution sitting smugly somewhere licking its chops.

And so, I was asked to please lay off the equipment for the last riding session of the day. This turned out to be much less of a bummer than it had seemed at first, as someone wrecked in turn 5 as soon as they went out, resulting in the last session lasting a grand total of one (1) laps, and that under a caution flag.

So there you have it. A day full of wrecks, wrecks, and more wrecks (my greatest fear was being taken out by one of the hot rods) and some of the most fun I've had in years. I now feel like my everyday riding is well below my skill level, rather than hovering at 80% of it. And I've earned the right to say offhandedly, "You know, the time I ran off in the Corkscrew at Laguna Seca…"

Oh, and there are a couple of photos of me looking very intent that should arrive in a few weeks. I'll be sure to post them.