Ducati Club Netherlands Clubrace Assen

 You know what it’s like. The seeds of ideas come and go and most of the time nothing becomes of them. Of course, every so often though one of those seeds takes route in your mind and starts to grow.

Enter Assen. After winning the NG Championship last year, I knew it was going to take an awful lot to top that feeling of achievement. I could have come back to defend the title throughout the ‘06 season but I’m not sure I’d have the focus or commitment necessary to do it all over again so needed another plan. I thought it would be good to pick and choose a few different events with different clubs this year just to be different, there was also the thought of doing some track-time abroad. There are a number of Trackday companies offering events, in Spain mostly, which did take my fancy but hey, they must have Club races abroad, it’s just a case of finding out who runs the things! I started the telephone /email paper chase around November last year and ended up down more than a few dead ends. I must admit there came a point when I began to think it wasn’t worth the hassle! I persevered however and was eventually put in touch with the guy who organises some Supermono (single cylinder) events abroad and he gave me the email address of the guy who just happened to run the odd event at Assen: Finally, the ‘A’ word! It wouldn’t have mattered too much on the venue, but Assen was not only within driving distance, it has also been regarded by the likes of Barry Sheene and Valentino Rossi as their favourite race track in the world so it had to be my number one choice! An email later and I awaited a reply. I didn’t have to wait long.

The very next day I had a message from Ton de Bruijn outlining what he did. Turns out he was in charge of the Ducati Club Netherlands and every year they ran a Ducati clubrace at the historic circuit. This could have been a problem seeing as my bike is an Aprilia but at the same meeting they also ran a Sound of Thunder and a Thunderbears class. I was told that although my bike would be eligible for the Thunderbears, it was more of a domestic event and I wouldn’t be allowed an entry. I would be permitted to enter the SoT race but was warned that this class was a ‘fast’ race. He explained that although the other events were run under the Dutch equivalent of the ACU, the SoT was run under the FIM, which is the international road racing body, that I would have to qualify in order to actually race, and that the pace was on a par with the Dutch National Championship, ooh er! I wasn’t fazed too much though; bring it on! The entry form was not available until 12.00 on February 5th 2005, when the form was due to be posted on the DCN website, so I decided there and then that I would be online ready for the moment it went live. That only gave me a couple of months to get excited!

Turns out that on the day in question, I had planned to go to Donington to catch up with Pete and Zo where they were showing the Barry Sheene RG500. Not to worry though, with the miracle of modern technology, I plugged my laptop into my mobile phone, got an internet connection and filled in the entry form in the carpark outside, pretty cool huh?! By the time I got home and logged back on, I had an email confirming receipt of my entry. All I had to do was organise a money transfer in Euros for the entry fee, which I did first thing on the Monday morning and that was it, we were in! I took a sigh of relief and then it hit me that the logistics of the whole thing now had to be arranged. It didn’t take any convincing to get the whole team interested in a jolly abroad so plans started to get the eight of us, two bikes (if I ever got my engine back!), spares, tyres, food (not to mention Zoë’s massive overnight bag!) etc all the way to the north of Holland. Just trying to get the truck on a ferry without being charged freight rates (due to it being just over the 7.99 mtrs they allow a motorhome to be) was a nightmare in itself, but persistence paid off in the end. Even trying to find somewhere near the ferry port to stay the night before was an ordeal but I ended up with a cracking deal in the end.

If you were paying attention to the Pembrey race report, you’ll know what happened next. A bit of a setback to say the least, but it left me with six weeks to get healed and get the bike back together, well, four if I was going to do the NG round at Donington. I have to say that fixing the bike was the easy part. It turns out I landed on my ribs harder than I first thought as I’d cracked a couple of them in the crash. It didn’t hamper me too much but had to take things steady and I wasn’t able to do any training, (still using that as an excuse actually, but shhh, don’t tell Pete and Zo!). Amanda and I went off one Sunday to search for new helmet and leathers – trying on new leathers was painful but it had to be done as my old ones had been cut off me and were now only good as a floor mat! The bike came together well, but time started running out on the delivery of the replacement fairing panels I’d ordered, so, the Saturday before the Donington weekend, I was left with no choice but to get the fibreglass out and start repairing the panels I’d trashed at Pembrey. Just to give myself more to do than I really needed, the yellow paint had to go and, as you’ve seen, the Spidey Dark scheme was introduced. It was really thanks to Marion as she sent me a link to the Spiderman 3 movie website which has the mean and moody-looking superhero in black as a teaser for the new film. Oh, and Amanda kindly bought me a new crash helmet which with an evenings masking - just needed the addition of a few webs to complete the full effect. The paint was only just dry when I loaded the new look kit into the truck for the trip to Donington!

Still not fully percent fit by any means, I knew in my mind that Donington was just going to be a shakedown test, to make sure everything was ok for the big trip in two weeks time. Without any huge pressure on me to push too hard, I invited my two girls, Alex (13) and Libby (8) along to let them see what their Dad likes to do at the weekends. I’ve never brought them along to watch me race before, as I’d hate to upset or worry them if I did have an ‘incident’ on the track. It was cool having them along, one big adventure. From driving up in the truck, to exploring the paddock and helping us set everything up for the next day. The three of us walked the track in the evening (well, Alex ran most of it!), then after we’d eaten, we went to the infield of the track with Ricky and Sian and played badminton and kicked around Rick’s rugby ball and flew kites until it started to get dark. Exhausted, they sampled the luxury of the truck’s double bed and they slept soundly. Chris and Tracy’s arrival the next morning with Chris’s boys Liam and Michael added to fun of it all, which, along with Amanda, Pete and Zoë meant that it was quite a social affair! The racing itself was nothing too special, I rode ok (finishing a half decent 7th in the final) but the combination of my lack of fitness, of knowing that the girls were watching and the fact that I really didn’t have time to fix myself or the bike in the two weeks prior to Assen meant I didn’t have the aggression or the determination to push as hard as I was capable. Still, the bike was faultless, we dialled in a new rear shock that Ricky and I had fitted the week before and we got to chat lots about our forthcoming Dutch adventure! Alex proved to be an asset to the team by timekeeping for me on track and helping with just about everything that went on and Libby was thrilled at being able to share Nintendo tips with the boys and was mesmerised by the Ducati of Tony ‘Nut Nut’ Long who was parked next to us as I’d painted his bike to look like her T V hero, SpongeBob Squarepants!

The next two weeks were pretty busy. Ricky gave the bike an oil and filter change and a nut and bolt check-over and fitted new tyres to every spare wheel I could find to make life as easy as we could when we got to the circuit. Amanda, continental traveller that she is, helped me sort out routes and maps. I emailed around a checklist for everyone to add suggestions to, though Sian’s reply suggesting ice cream, ice cream and more ice cream wasn’t the most helpful of the replies I got back! I gave the truck an oil change and a good look over and Amanda and Pete gave the truck a spring clean inside and out. Zoë, bought baked beans and long life milk in bulk (don’t ask!). Meanwhile, Chris gave his people carrier a service, and started to worry that he didn’t really know what was happening in any detail; “trust me” I reassured him, “everything is under control.” It was too. It had taken a monumental amount of planning and preparation but as the departure date drew near, I was confident that we were ready and I could actually start looking forward to it all.

It all started with an envelope I posted to Chris, addressed to ‘Agent Big C’. In it were two smaller envelopes, one marked ‘Mission 1, only to be opened on Thursday May 4th’, the other marked ‘Mission 2, only to be opened when Mission 1 is completed’. The first envelope contained maps and step by step directions to get Chris and Tracy from their home near Weston-Super-Mare to Ricky and Sian’s place in Andover. A very exited Chris rang me late in the afternoon on Thursday, “Mission 1 completed, just opening Mission 2!”. The next task was to get the four of them from Andover to Ashford in Kent where there was a reservation for us all at a Travelodge for the evening. I was still with Amanda at the time, (she couldn’t join us on the road trip in the morning but was going to make her own way there on Saturday, totally mad I know but who am I to question a woman’s logic?!), awaiting the arrival of Pete and Zoë. Their car finally struggled to where the truck was parked and I’m sure I heard it breathe a sigh of relief as Zo’s overnight bag was taken out of the boot! Crikey, just as well there is only one bike in the truck! We climbed aboard, waved goodbye to Amanda and headed east. We were most of the way around the M25 when we got a worried phone call from Chris; “Hello, we’ve got a problem with the instructions”, “Er, what kind of problem” I asked, “well, we found the Travelodge ok but there is a Burger King, a Pizza Hut and a KFC here and there’s nothing telling us which one we have to eat at!”. Mental note, must make instructions FOOL proof! By the time we arrived, they had miraculously managed to make a decision about what they wanted to eat and had even managed to order themselves a few drinks at the bar, followed by a few more, without my written intervention, amazing! We joined them in a beer before last orders were called, and I handed out the new ‘Team Spidey Assen 2006’ shirts so we could really look the part for the weekend. With an early start to the following morning we totally failed to get an early night, the excitement was just too much! With everything closed and things to munch running out, Pete saved us by playing the vending machine like it was a fruit machine and handed out the winnings! Surprisingly, it wasn’t a problem getting up in the morning, and we were ready to get rolling by 6.30. The new shirts were being worn with pride and it kind of felt like we were all going on a school trip, although there were certainly no grow- ups there to look after us!

Chris was handed Mission number 3 containing directions for the short trip to the Dover port and the booking confirmation for the Norfolk Line ferry. I was amazed at how easy it was to get booked in and within a very short time we were boarding the ferry, well, luxury cruiser more like! The ship was very plush with an on-board shop, bar and restaurant, and while Ricky and Sian went exploring the rest of us got in the queue for breakfast. It wasn’t a very long queue but it wasn’t moving very fast either. We stood there for an age and as we approached the serving counter, the delay became evident. The solitary woman serving not only had the most cheery smile, she was clearly determined to ensure every single person was totally satisfied with not only the content but also the presentation of their breakfast! I can’t believe that anyone could have been disappointed, when it finally got to their turn that is, as each plateful looked good enough to photograph and display on the walls of the restaurant as a compliment to her perfectionism. Ricky and Sian had explored the whole ship by the time we got to the front of the queue, so jumped in and joined us for what was a delicious breakfast. We had time for a little wander around the ship and were shocked to discover we were sharing the boat with Cat Woman! Well, Cat Woman’s scary mum more like, complete with the outfit but she disappeared before any of us could find a camera, weird. Chris was handed Mission 4, the 300 mile route to Assen, and Ricky gave Zoë instructions on using the walkie-talkies he’d brought along for inter-vehicle communication. They were dead cool and gave a little ‘crrrk’ before and after you spoke. They were just like the CB radios the truckers have in the ‘States; ten-four good buddy!

 Off the boat and driving on the wrong side of the road felt quite natural. Chris had never driven abroad before and seeing as he was in the faster vehicle I took the lead in the truck. The first roundabout was a bit tricky, I mean you just don’t expect to have to look left for traffic on them usually! We got to the motorway and the throttle was on the stop. Our first fuel stop was soon into the journey, time for a quick toilet stop too and to share out some Spiderman goodie bags that Amanda had packed for us all. Back on the road and it made me realise what a pleasure it is to drive on the continent. The traffic flowed, people drove briskly but safely and we had very little in the way of hold ups. The journey was a kind of dot to dot route joining major cities and very easy to follow. It seemed that as soon as we approached one of the cities, the next one was already signposted. From the ferry post at Dunkerque, we headed to Bruges, Ghent and Antwerp, then up to Breda, Utrecht and Zwolle. The miles, (well, kilometres actually) clicked away and the goodie bags kept us quiet for a while, the walkie-talkies working brilliantly between the vehicles. At one point Chris had a burst of speed and overtook us and then we had a call from Rick, “crrrk. Hello, hello, crrrk”. “Go ahead Ricksta” replied Zo, “Crrrk, OH MY GOD, crrrk”, “What’s the matter Ricky?” “crrrk, did I just see Zoe with a map??? crrrk”. As we re-overtook the flying people carrier, Zoe communicated with Ricky without the need of the radio. Anyway, time was getting on and when we got up past Zwolle we decided we needed to stop somewhere and stretch the legs and grab something. We missed the turn off for a McDonalds (luckily!) but got away with it as Sian (never known to pass the Arches without a McFlurry stop) was joining Tracy in 40 winks in the back of the people carrier. We did stop soon at a nice little motorway restaurant and had a late lunch and a bit of a relax. The last 80 miles were the toughest; I guess it was the local drive time so things slowed down a fair bit and also stopped every so often. Ricky had been studying the map and decided to take us on a detour as we neared the last leg. A good decision it was too as we got to see some of the smaller villages and the houses that lined the minor roads, which made a real change from the motorway we’d spent so much time on.

 And then we were there. We nearly drove past the entrance to the track as there were hardly any signposts but as soon as we approached the circuit along the slip road, the excitement started to build! There was a lot of building work going on outside the track in readiness for the MotoGP and WSB races and we could see a paddock full of vehicles. I was kind of expecting to have some hassle getting in to the track itself as my tickets and passes hadn’t turned up in the post before we’d left but we were directed to the ‘welcome office’ and promptly signed in, were given our passes and sent in to find a place to park, completely hassle free! Actually finding that place to park was trickier than it sounded. We must have been about the last people to arrive and the paddock was absolutely heaving. I stopped the truck behind the pit garages for a bit but in the company of the 75ft long artics parked there my truck looked very small! Chris and the crew drove around until they were lucky enough to find a spot just big enough then radioed us through to find where they were. Now, turn up five minutes late for a Pembrey meeting and you’re out on the grass in danger of having the truck sink and likely to end up collecting gravel and stones in your hot slicks whenever you move it, but not here. The entire paddock was block paved and instead of the infernal clattering of generators, there were plenty of electrical hook-up points to plug in to; bliss. It didn’t take long with a full team to put up the awning and get everything set up and in the mean time Tracy got to work inside the truck making a home for us all. As they carried on, Chris and I pushed the bike up for scrutineering. It was a bit of a daunting task as I know what the scrutineers are like over here, (officious, I think is the word) but back home we can usually blag our way through if they decide the numbers are too small or the number-boards are too shiny, or my ‘5’ looks like an ‘S’ or something similarly banal. They do carry out a safety check of course, but they always seem to pick on race numbers for some reason. Anyway, we can usually talk them around to seeing sense but not sure how we were going to do that, neither of us speaking Dutch! We didn’t need to worry. The scrutineering was a very low-key affair, they were more interested in doing a noise test (which we passed easily, phew) and checking the helmet. Surprised at how easy it all was, we came away adequately stickered up, indicating we’d passed, and that was it. No queuing up to show licences or anything, sorted.

Tracy opted to stay in the truck and put our dinner on while the rest of us decided it was time to walk the track. The venue is very impressive. The whole place looks as if it was designed purely for the MotoGP events and that we were very privileged to be allowed to play on it for the weekend. The huge covered grandstand lining the pit straight makes the ancient seating area at Donington look comical in comparison. I couldn’t stop smiling! We jumped over pit wall and walked down the start-finish straight and approached the first bend. The circuit had been remodelled over the winter and this was where the new section of track was. All my laps on the Playstation had no relevance to this series of bends, but even the local riders would be attempting this for the first time tomorrow so we had an even chance around this part at least! We spent a fair bit if time looking backwards and forwards trying to imagine where the fast line would be, pointing out places for ‘stuffing it up the inside’ for overtakes and wondering why there were so many black lines heading off the track and into the gravel at the tight left handed hairpin. As we got down past the back of the paddock along the back straight, Chris started making ‘back-pain’ excuses and took the shortcut pack to the paddock. We carried on. And on. And on! Blimey, this is one long track! It seemed that just as the tarmac seemed to turn right to head back towards civilisation, it turned left again out into the wilds! It got to the point where I was thinking of ringing Chris and asking him to come and pick us up in the people carrier! Eventually the circuit did appear to form a loop after all and we were all pretty relieved to be heading back to the pits. Big appreciation to Tracy for having dinner ready for us as we turned back up, it went down very well indeed. In the spirit of fully exploring the facilities, we headed to the superb bar for a couple Dutch beers. The combination of an early start, a marathon drive and an evening route march ensured I for one slept very well that night.

Saturday morning greeted us with bright sunshine. I was up pretty early and tried out the circuit’s showers (just a little too hot for me!). I felt fresh and ready for the day ahead. Just as well, because although the races were the following day, today was just as important. When we signed on the day before, we were told that there were 58 riders in the Sound of Thunder, all trying to qualify for 44 places on the grid. If we didn’t qualify, there would be no rides on the Sunday; just a little bit of pressure then! First outing was a free practice, the SoT being the first group on track at 10am. The bike was running the slicks I’d used at Donington on the basis that this was a twenty minute learning session and I didn’t need fresh rubber. I knew I had to hold back from trying to go too fast, as you don’t get a chance to learn or take things in if you’re desperately trying to keep up with somebody on front of you. I’ve made that mistake before and come back knowing what the rear end of someone else’s bike was like in great detail but knowing nothing about the track. Going fast anywhere is all about your perception of how much space you’ve got on the track. Basically, the bigger the track appears, the faster your brain allows you to go. Having said that, there’s no point wobbling around and enjoying the view as you still need to have a idea of braking points, turning points and what gears you’re going to need when you get to each section. I have to say that although there were a lot of sections to take in, they went by an awful lot quicker than the walking pace the night before! My virtual laps on the Playstation did help a little, though it is a lot different in real life. As I didn’t know the names of the corners (and probably couldn’t pronounce them anyway!) I talked my way around the track, giving the corners my own names, mostly based on ones similar on UK tracks. We had Redgate (Donington), Druids (Brands), Nasty-Tight-Left-Hander (ah, now I see why there had been so many people coming to grief there!) Back Straight, Darley Chicane 1, Fast-Left, Esses (Pembrey), Surtees (Brands), Gerrards (Mallory), Pembrey Kink, Darley Chicane 2, Stadium Bend (big fast blind left hander) and the Flip-Flop-Chicane before joining pit straight again. That’s quite a lot to remember. Add to that the fact I was being overtaken quite often and also overtaking a few people myself and I was quite glad when the session was over! Results were posted quickly and they showed me in 28th position with a 2.02.970 fastest lap. At least I was in with a chance of qualifying for the following day’s races! Not that there was anything to celebrate just yet and the mood of a thoroughly unimpressed Chris and Ricky showed it. Guess they’re not used to seeing me so far down a grid sheet! Shortly after I came in, I had a visitor. Paul Debnam was my instructor when I did the California Superbike School at Silverstone some eighteen months ago and I’d met him again when he collected the twenty sets of bodywork I’d painted for the School a few weeks ago. To say I was surprised when he appeared in the back of my truck at a race track in Holland was an understatement! Paul had been told I was racing and although he was there to look after some other riders, had watched my session and offered some advice on the first part of the track that he was able to see. It was brilliant to have such a professional de-brief and it helped me analyse what I had been doing and it gave me some definite areas to work on. Then another face I recognised appeared, Steve Harper, TT racer and Adam Tempest’s part –time mechanic was here as well, accompanying the Desmo-Due boys from the UK who had a round of their own championship here. He was not riding but desperately wishing he’d brought a bike along!

After speeding across Europe, Amanda arrived just in time for the second session which was at 2pm, quite an achievement and made the team complete. This was the first of the Qualifying sessions and we had a plan. The idea was to send me out on a pair of soft tyres, do five or so laps and then come into the pits for Ricky to do one of the lightening-quick rear wheel swaps he’d been practicing, sending me out with a special, super-soft qualifying tyre (courtesy of Dunlop Motorsport) to try to put in a really good lap time. Well, that was plan A at least. Chris and Ricky had a discussion and told me plan B; simply to go out on decent rubber and just get laps in. They decided that circuit knowledge was more important than sticky rubber and reckoned the time spent in the pit lane changing tyres would be better spent learning the track. Ricky and Pete fitted the next set of wheels with fresh tyres into Spidey and I set about getting a better lap time. Not knowing how quick any of the other riders were (although there were a few VERY quick riders) meant it was hard to gauge who to try to latch on to but I did my best and felt I was pushing quite hard. I was struggling to find a line in to the nasty left hander in particular. The corners approaching it kind of tricked you build your speed up ready to catch you out when you got there and realised how slow you needed to be if you didn’t want to end up on the kerbs or worse, in the gravel. The big left approaching the stadium was tricky too and hard to build confidence around as you just couldn’t see where you were going to be on the exit. It was obvious that most of the riders present had been there before and their track familiarity showed. I rode as hard as I could but the whole session felt a bit scrappy and untidy, a case of trying too hard I think. Best lap was almost a second and a half quicker (2.01.525) but I was still 28th. Again, Chris and Ricky greeted me with a complete lack of enthusiasm, the only piece of advice being offered was, “well, we know you can go faster”. Paul popped in again, this time he’d been watching from the roof of the hospitality area by the Flip-Flop Chicane. Again, we discussed my session, and I came away with some good ideas about reference points to use as I approached the blind Stadium Bend. If they worked it should give me the confidence to enter it quicker because I’d be able to visualise where I’d be on the exit before I could actually see it. It would also mean I’d be approaching the chicane much faster but was told to have faith in my front tyre and let it do the work on the first part to get the bike pointed where I needed it, then get it stood up and on the gas for full drive down the start-finish straight. Sounds good in theory! He also told me that anything under a 2 minute lap was a quick club pace so that gave me a realistic target to aim for.

 We had to wait till 5.45 for the second qualifying session and opted to stick with the tyres that were already fitted and to put as many laps in as possible. We made the most of the break and watched some of the other sessions to see what lines were working for people and, just as importantly, which lines weren’t. We also took time to look around the pits to see some of the crazy clog-wearing Dutch and their crazy bikes! There were so many stalls selling goodies there, it almost made me want to own a Ducati! There was a myriad of equipment for sale for the ‘rival’ Italian machines, most of which I’d not seen in the UK. A look along the back of the pit garages showed there were some serious teams here. We’d seen pictures in the programme (couldn’t read the Dutch writing of course!) of the two girl riders in official Ducati team contesting the European Women’s Championship, and here were their massive trucks and hospitality. On the pitwall, they even had their own purpose built shelter with CCTV screens and a live timing feed to pass the necessary info on to the riders. A bit more impressive than our stopwatch and pitboard!

The time finally arrived and I made my way up to the holding area, along pitlane and out onto the track. On this occasion I was more relaxed and tried to stay calm and smooth. My confidence into the stadium left hander increased step by step, using reference points to get myself aimed in the right direction ready for the exit. Instead of ‘comfort braking’ on the approach I was now just rolling the throttle off to scrub of a little speed before getting back on it as the corner opened out. Although I was getting the hang of that corner, I’d kind of given up on trying to get a ‘nice’ line around the nasty left hand hairpin, deciding that it was more important to have a couple of options of safe lines, maybe at the expense of a couple of tenths, but any time lost was definitely made up for by getting the bike turned, upright and powering down the back straight. It was the back straight where I had the first chance to be able to look down at my lap timer and check out the pace of my last lap, there was just too much else to concentrate on up till that point! Most of the time it was showing 2.02s and 2.03s but by my 7th lap, the stadium corner thing clicked and I went in without backing off. I came out the other side just where I wanted to be too! It made my approach to the flip flop chicane much faster which caught me out a bit but the lap timer showed a 2.00.8. The next time around I did the same into the left and this time was prepared for the faster approach to the chicane and my laptime was a 1.59.489! That brought a smile to my face! Chris and Ricky were much happier too, thankfully! The result put me up to 25th on the grid which may have meant I was right back on the 7th row of the grid but it guaranteed me two races the next day and it put me on the outside of the pack, where I’m most comfortable for a good start. On the cooling down lap of that session, I was surprised to come across a number of bikes stopped on the back straight and it wasn’t till I passed them that I realised they were all getting ready to do practice starts, just like the MotoGP boys do. This is so, so cool! Pete and Zoë had a visit from their Dutch friend (and fellow Barry Sheene fan) Johan and his son Max. They’d all met at one of the Sheene events in the UK and it turns out he only lives a few miles away from the circuit! P and Z went off to his house for a cup of tea while we tidied up the awning and got things ready for the morning. Ricky got all the tyres changed around to save time the following day too. Amanda cooked for us Saturday night while Sian went off to jog the track. Pete and Zoë joined in for a lap, Ricky did two laps and Sian, amazingly, did three! Tracy, following her announcement that she’d bravely entered a half marathon, did some mental preparation (rather than any physical exercise) but it was a step in the right direction! I got showered and had a relax after the day’s riding. The twenty minute sessions were hard work and I knew I’d be struggling to keep a race pace up the whole ten laps the following day, but hey, we were at Assen, the sun was shining and everything was pretty damned cool.

There was a live band in the bar Saturday evening so once the runners had recovered from their laps, we all headed up there. The place was full and the band was great. I was pretty exhausted, I guess the drive down and the riding had taken their toll, so didn’t stay late. I’m not sure what time the others got chucked out of the bar but I did hear them talking outside the truck later in the evening. I couldn’t hear what was going on but it turns out that they were all starving and that Zoë had offered to get up into the cab of the truck, climb through the small opening that leads into the living area, grab some food out of the cupboards and climb back out the way she’d got in, quiet as a mouse. Luckily she was talked out of it as she would have landed on my bed as she came through the opening! When I asked why no-one considered coming through the front door they all looked a bit sheepish and replied “er, we didn’t think of that”. I ask you.

Sunday morning and more sunshine. Bikes started streaming in through the main gate for the race day proper, and the paddock was alive. More stalls and stands were open and the huge Ducati tent surrounded by hundreds of the red bikes seemed to be the most popular. We weren’t out till midday so spent the morning watching some of the other races and taking in the displays. Apparently there were over 8000 advance ticket sales for the day with some 15000 people expected! No wonder Performance Bikes Magazine described it as the world’s greatest club race! The scale and professionalism was simply amazing. I certainly wasn’t missing the NG round at Cadwell that was happening at the same time, especially when we kept getting texts from there to let us know how wet and cold it was; I did mention that we were in danger of running out of sun-block in one of my replies, just to add insult to injury!

Warm up went well. Ricky insisted I wear my old leathers as he reckoned my new ones were a bit, er, how should I put it, well, snug. He thought they may be restricting me a bit on the bike. Unfortunately, the old leathers had no more room in them (guess it’s time to get back down that gym after all!) but at least I tried it. Another 1.59 lap showed I’d not forgotten anything over night and I was sure I could go a bit quicker in the race. Our first race proper wasn’t due till 2.30 so we had plenty of time to enjoy the day. Watching some of the races from the top of the hospitality suite’s roof showed the class of the whole proceedings. The first two rows of the grid were accompanied by brolly girls prior to the start (something I’ll have to suggest to the NG Committee!) and the race winners enjoyed full podium celebrations with national anthems and champagne!

Looking around from our vantage point we could see the impressive sea of bikes parked in the infield. Gazing across the paddock I couldn’t help feeling that I was in Sound of Thunder heaven. The class in the UK has been struggling for entries for the past few years (although this year has seen it pick up again) but here, every bike in every class was a form of SoT bike and had been split into different classes to give as many people rides as possible! Walking back to our base we came across displays from Aprilia dealers, Bimota, Moto Morini, MV Augusta (ok, not technically SoT bikes but gorgeous enough to allow them honorary status for the weekend!), and, of course, more Ducati stands than you could imagine. I reckon there must have been pretty much one of every Ducati model ever built parked there some where.

Our race ended up a being delayed a bit due to a couple of crashes and was delayed a bit longer as they’d changed the program around to allow the UK guys in the Desmo-Due class to finish their race in good time in order that they could do the ferry dash in good time that evening. It wasn’t a problem for us as we were going to be staying on that night and travelling back the following morning. Our time eventually came though. I got suited up and headed up to the holding area, along with Amanda and Tracy armed with a couple of black umbrellas that Zoë had painstakingly painted in Spidey colours in the week before! They were a godsend as it was baking hot out there and no shade at all. At least we weren’t kept waiting long and we were soon waved onto pitlane for our formation lap. I took it steady initially but picked up my pace to try to scrub the fresh tyres in and convince myself they would be ready to grip right from the start. I came around the lap, took up my position on the grid and looked right down the outside, focussing my eyes on the first corner. The official brolly girls moved back to pitlane (mine weren’t allowed on the grid!) and the flag man moved to the outside of the track, all eyes on the lights. I may have been a long way back but I remembered back to Pembrey last year when I had to start at the back of the grid for one race and knew I had to do the same sort of thing. The lights went out and the noise of 44 twins on race pipes echoing off the stadium and pit wall was deafening, even with earplugs and a helmet! My start was perfect. Front wheel hovering a few inches off the deck all the way and I didn’t back off till I needed to brake for the first turn. As usual, the pack all bunched up to the inside of the track for the first right hand turn, all except me that is! I kept wide and rode around the outside of a whole bunch of them as they got in each other’s way. I kept wide through the next right kink, and although my wide line through the long right after that meant I had to ride further than anyone else, I still had a clear track and was still passing people! This line put me right on the very inside of the nasty left kink of course and although I got squeezed in a bit, managed to get turned, upright and on the gas for the back straight. At this point I must have been in about 7th or 8th position! I tucked in, put the throttle against the stop and got annihilated! Bike after bike was streaming past me on sheer power and Spidey was well and truly out gunned. Still, I got a couple back through the next series of bends and hung on to the leading group. I think I was in about 18th when I passed the finish line for the first time but I felt like I was racing! The laps ticked by and although I’d put a couple of seconds between me and the next guys behind, the leaders were inching away from me. By mid race distance, I was on my own and had no-one to chase but had to monitor my pit board to make sure no one was sneaking up on me. I was pretty pleased with 18th and my lap timer was showing 1.58-something (though I thought at one point it was broken as it seemed to be reading the same after every lap), the fastest I’d been so far. Turns out every single lap was in the 1.58 bracket except the very last one which was a 1.57! That consistency was amazing especially considering I had no-one to pace myself against and by two thirds race distance, I was absolutely exhausted. I kept pushing though and a crash ahead of me promoted me up a place, as did a breakdown from one of the Dukes. I guess the 10 laps of the long circuit were not only taking their toll on me, but also on the bikes themselves! On every one of the last three laps there was a bike either being pushed off the track or coasting with the rider’s hand signalling they had a problem. Chris and Ricky on pitwall were typically unsympathetic and enjoyed themselves by chanting the words “you came all this way to push it” to the unfortunate ones as they arrived back in pitlane! The position Chris displayed on my lap board kept improving to the point where I thought if this kept up I could win the race by default! I actually finished 14th but what a cracking result.

Utterly shattered from the physical exertion of it all in such heat, I slumped in a chair as soon as I got back to the truck, not even having the energy to take off my leathers! The team arrived back from their viewing positions and everyone looked as pleased as punch with my efforts. I gulped water down but felt drained for quite a while afterwards. At least I had a while till my next race, or so I thought. With the altered timetable, Ricky pointed out there was only an hour in between the races and I’d spent 20 minutes of that getting my breath back! Blimey, that only gave me 30 minutes before I’d have to be up at the holding area again. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it! All credit to the team as they came into their own. Ricky did the final wheel swap of the weekend to give me the last pair of fresh tyres. Chris had worked out the exact amount of fuel needed for the race and topped the tank up to the fuel-stick mark he’d decided on. Amanda made me something to eat before dashing off to stand a chance of catching her booked Euro tunnel slot. Pete cleaned my helmet and visor. Sian, Tracy and Zoë got everything tidy in the awning and prepared themselves for full-on spectating duties. I managed to revive a bit of energy and we turned on the Whoo Hoo music as loud as the speakers would allow, just to get us all in the mood! I headed up to the holding area, Chris made his way to pit wall, Zoë and Sian walked up to meet me with the Spidey-brollies followed by Ricky who wanted to take a photo of the three of us in the warm up area. Once he’d run back to the truck again to grab the camera he’d forgotten, he had a few seconds to snap a couple of shots before we were called out to the track. He then went to join Chris on pit wall and the girls ran off to meet up with the others on top of the hospitality roof. I rode off with a special feeling inside. As I made my way up pitlane to join the track, I could see Steve and some of the Desmo-Due boys on top of the pit garages waving in encouragement to me and as I completed the warm up lap, I could hear the air-horns Ricky had given to the girls and I looked up to see the Spidey Duvet being draped from the roof by Pete. I took my 25th place on the grid and just took a moment to soak up the atmosphere. There was a short delay as the grid was sorted out but soon enough, the flag man moved to one side and signalled at the starting lights. I took a deep breath. The lights came on. The lights went out. I launched Spidey off the line but although my start was good, my outside path was blocked by someone who had obviously seen what I’d done earlier and fancied a bit of the same. Still, I did manage to get around a whole bunch of other riders and was determined to give it my all to stay with the leading pack as long as I could. Again, the acceleration of my steed was no match for some of those other missiles down the straights but I was happily matching their pace through the turns. A blow-up in an earlier race had left a wide strip of concrete dust (used to soak up oil) that went from the start of the Pembrey kink, all the way through the Stadium left and up the entry to pit lane: Whatever caused it must have had a huge oil tank to deposit that much on the track! It did mean a slight alteration in the lines available but it also kind of made me feel more at home as you can almost guarantee there’ll be something similar midway though an NG club race. I pressed on, the lap board counting the laps down for me. Within four laps, the leading pack had pulled away from me so I was left in no-man’s land again. Not much fun on your own but real hard to keep the concentration up. I did get a wake up call at the end of lap 4 when one of the Ducati girls, Chiara Valentini out braked me into the final chicane and dragged away from me down the start/finish straight. I knew from the previous results that her times were not a whole lot quicker than mine so I was more than happy to give chase and see if she could at least drag me along for a bit. She gained about 50 metres on me over the next lap but my concentration was fully switched on and any thoughts about my tiredness had disappeared. At half race distance she hadn’t pulled away any more. By lap 6 I’d clawed back some of the distance and I made the decision that I was going to do everything I could to get her back; I hadn’t come all this way to be beaten by a girl, after all! I didn’t know what was happening on pit wall till afterwards of course but Ricky and Chris were having their own little battle with the Ducati team. Rick would sneak around the back of their canopy to get the lap time information from their screen to put on the board for me and Chris, in front of them on the wall, would hold out the board in front of theirs blocking their rider’s view (unintentionally of course!). The higher they held their board, the higher Chris held his. Ricky had given up sneaking around for the lap information and was now doing it bold as brass, making it quite clear which rider had the loudest-shouting crew! Meanwhile, on track, I could see that Valentini was hesitating with the throttle as she crossed the potentially slippery concrete-dust line through the Pembrey kink. I kept it nailed. I got right on the back of her approaching the last chicane and although she broke later than me into it, she didn’t get on the gas as early as me on the exit. I crossed the line to start lap 8 right in the Ducati’s slipstream and showed her a wheel into the first turn. That put the pressure on her as she now knew how hard I was pushing her. We spent the entire lap in close formation. A little dummy run out of the last chicane showed I didn’t have the horsepower to draft her across the finish line so as I started lap 9 I knew I had to be in front of her by the chicane on the last lap to have a chance. I knew where I was going to do it too. My plan was to hold back a little into the Gerrards rights and wind myself up to carry more speed through the Pembrey kink where she slowed and get up the inside for the run up to the Stadium for the last time, hoping I could hold her off to the line. Of course, plans never seem to go to er, plan. As we entered the Gerrards bend for the penultimate time, a backmarker was just ahead of us. Valentini went to go around the outside of him but I knew he was likely to drift wide and in one of the practice sessions the day before, I’d already logged the fact that the outside of that bend was a bit slippery due to dirt and rubber off the racing line. As I expected, the backmarker did run wide and Valentini had to back off for a moment. I didn’t need a written invitation. I was up the inside and off towards the concrete dust and the kink like a thing possessed! I felt the revs rise as the rear wheel spun due to the reduced grip through the kink but it felt brilliant, just like Rossi and Co (well, er, similar anyway!) I crossed the line to start the last lap in the lead of our battle and Chris and Ricky were more than keen to point out who was ahead now; “see that, that’s our boy that is”! The only trouble was, I now had to hold my position for the whole of the last lap. I really gave it my all. A couple more backmarkers got the close fly-past treatment but I daren’t back off. I knew my one vulnerable place was the final chicane so this time I waited a good second past my usual braking marker and pulled on the brakes as hard as I could. The back end was swaying under the braking force but timed it perfectly that as it swayed to the left I let the brakes off it pointed me in the right direction to let me drive hard through the Flip Flop and, fire me up towards the finish line, tucked in as tight as I could; success! I could see the lap board waving in celebration on pit wall and looked behind to see my adversary. Turns out she out-braked herself trying to catch me into the final chicane and ended up a few seconds behind me as she crossed the line but what a battle. The cool down lap was just as awesome as the rest of the event. The sense of achievement I felt was immense and to add to that, every Marshall around the circuit had come to the edge of the track and were waving flags and applauding us as we rode past. There were people doing burnouts on the track and the atmosphere was electric. As I approached the stadium, my roof top fan club was making their presence known. Even with my helmet and earplugs I could hear the cheers and the airhorns and I pulled up just below where they were celebrating to give them a little burnout of my own. It took a couple of attempts to get the red-hot slick to spin but I got it smoking in the end! I may have crossed the line in 16th but it felt as good as a win to me and a weekend-best lap of  1.56.9 was the icing on the cake.

So that was it. All of a sudden the event I’d been planning for so long was over. We had a little celebratory beer and I got out of my leathers and freshened myself up while the rest of the team got everything tidied up. As the paddock began to get more and more empty we decided to make sure the bar was going to be open in the evening as we were running short on liquid supplies. It wasn’t, but luckily we managed to catch it before it shut and bought up the last of their tins of Dutch beer so we could survive the evening. We needed an early start for the drive home in the morning so, with all hands helping out we got everything packed in the back of the truck in order to save time in the morning. All hands except Rick that is, as he had found my kite in the back of the truck and went off to get some airtime! He did manage to join us in time for a beer and something to nibble later on though.

There was a definite feeling of flatness in the morning. We loaded the last of the equipment into the truck and said goodbye to Assen. There was one suggestion of staying on for the Yamaha trackday that was running later in the day but however tempting, we had to make a move. The journey back across Europe was no where near as exciting and the trip there either. We covered ground fairly quickly and had a fuel stop midway but there wasn’t much in the way of fun! Pete and Zoë in the truck with me, took it in turns to nod off only to be woken up by the other one asking if they were asleep. I just kept my right foot firmly planted on the throttle for as long as I could. To further add to our post-good-times depression, the further we drove south the cloudier and colder it became. It seemed that as soon as we crossed the border into France, the heavens opened and it rained and rained. Still we made good time and I suggested a mission number 5. Zoë radioed to the people carrier my suggestion of carrying on past Dunkerque, heading to Calias and doing a quick hypermarket run. The idea was rejected on the grounds of it being too far each way to spend enough time shopping so they came back to us with a mission 6. The idea was to park the truck up somewhere near the dock, all jump into the people carrier and go find somewhere local for something to eat and a bit of an explore. We found a carpark and couldn’t believe our luck when we pulled up next to what looked like a supermarket; time to load the truck with goodies! Unfortunately, there was a sign on the door saying “closed Monday” (yes, written in English for some reason?!). Never mind we thought, we’ll find something. We sped off with Chris at the wheel, flying along an amazingly straight road punctuated with little roundabouts. After travelling for far too long without coming across any form of civilisation, Ricky (navigating) decided to get Chris to make a last minute right turn and we pulled into a quiet little French town. Quiet was a bit of an understatement, hmm. We pulled up outside a restaurant and although it was closed, Chris got out and disappeared inside. A minute or two later Chris emerged with a French guy. Don’t ask me how he arranged it (Chris’s linguistic abilities involve speaking slowly but loudly in English) but we were going to follow the French guy to another restaurant a way up the road. In the meantime, Sian had been texting someone from work; “ er guys, just thought you ought to know, it’s a bank holiday in France today!”. After a short sprint following the crazy Frenchman, we pulled up at the open restaurant and waved to our guide with a combined “Merci”. We studied the menu and kind of recognised a few items but as soon as we went in were told they were fully booked. The bar across the road that we tried wasn’t serving food today either. The suggestion was made that we headed back to the port on the basis that at least there’d be something to eat there and some form of duty free shopping! That was enough for Chris. We all got back in the people carrier and headed back to the port at breakneck speed. If ever you want to see Chris’s angry face, just mention France! He wasn’t happy at the complete lack of hospitality shown by the locals, the fact it was shut the one day we chose to visit it or the fact it was still raining! Oh well. We arrived back at the truck, (slightly relieved to be getting out of the people carrier!) and headed down to the port. We checked in, had our passports checked, moved a hundred yards or so and had our passports checked again. We then had to stop at the UK immigration post and show our passports yet again! This time the female officer in the booth decided she wanted to look in the back of the truck. I gave her the guided tour of the living area when she vainly browsed around for stowaways! As I got out of the truck, I signalled to the guys behind us that I’d just been FULLY searched and I could see Ricky laughing so much he was nearly crying. I pointed out to the officer that the people in the vehicle behind was definitely dodgy and ought to be searched too! Chris was still not amused, even less so when we finally parked up and headed to the Cafeteria only to discover, yes you guessed it, it was closed. The only food available was from the vending machines in the waiting area. Not to worry. We headed back to where we were parked, I fired up the truck’s generator and the stove, started opening some tins of beans (see I knew all those tins would come in handy Zo!) and fired some bread into the toaster. I don’t think beans on toast was ever appreciated so much or tasted so good!

The ferry arrived but it must have been a French one as it was no where near as nice as the English one we’d arrived on! The Duty free shop was more of a counter but we managed. We did stumble across a mini cinema on board which helped pass the journey time. Back on UK soil, we headed to the nearest services for a final fuel stop. This would be the last time together before heading to our separate destinations so goodbyes were said there. The rest of the trip was very quiet. The walkie-talkies were well out of range and everyone was suffering the post-good-time-blues. Guess that’s always going to be the downside of having a fantastic time. I’ve no idea how on earth we’re going to top such a brilliant weekend but one thing’s for sure, the world has just got a little bit smaller………