This is a intresting twist on the weekend results from my buddy watching in the stands. I think that I took first in my class. They ran 2 classes together and there was bikes every where turn 1. Paint chips, and sparks flying. I'll get pictures soon.
Race Report (embellished with as few facts as possible)
So here is a quick race report for the young and restless Mr. Hansel.
Young and daring that Matt is, he thought he might sign up for the "Lightweight" SportMoto class, when in fact he needed to sign up for the "Mini" Sport Moto class. The difference between the two you ask? Oh, about 300% more horsepower and about another 3/4 mile added onto the track. At least the mistake was caught before the our fine young warrior got caught up in any unpleasantness.
Onto the first practice he goes and it becomes immediately clear that the 55 pound seven year old on a nearly identical bike probably has Matt's number, his main competition shows itself as Mr. Kilkenny, riding a 1966 Hodaka Road Toad (literally!) and a 48 year old (rather portly) recently divorced insurance salesman from St. Louis. Matt wasted no time picking up his WIR / Kaukauna / Hillbilly / NASCAR - bump and run style of riding. I think a witnessed him look over his shoulder, see a competitor gaining, and literally swerve to punt him into the cheap seats. Running out of practice time, and Me screaming at him from the sidelines to take off the skirt, Matt stepped it up, and promptly laid it down. Twice to be exact...
Returning to the pits, it was revealed that the optimum tire pressures of 22psi front and rear were not in Matt's game plan. If memory serves me, he had a rock solid 40 in the rear and a pig-on-marshmallows 8 in the front. Once that was straightened out, Matt Lined up for his heat race.
The dual was on from the drop of the flag, Matt Vs. 1966 Road Toad in a death match. Sparks flying and tires squealing, the 1966 pilot eventually saved a nasty high side by wedging his ankle between the solid mounted 3/4" round footpeg and the concrete curbing, OUCH! He rode fifteen more feet to the side of the track and fell off the bike into the fetal position. Did I say OUCH? Anywho, Matt soldered on to the end and finished with the bike and his unsacrificed ankle, sunny side up.
The only real drama in the main was when Matt again tried his NASCAR cheap seats move on the Insurance salesman and they both nearly ate shit hard. That spooked the Midlife crisis dude enough to steer so clear from Matt, he almost got lapped by the Kid Himself! Oh yeah, there was a point in the waning moments of the race, when the previously mentioned 7 year old was lapping through the field, and it looked (for a hair raising moment) like Matt was ready to punt this little tike off into the bleachers too. Luckily for the Kid (and especially Matt, if ya know what I mean) he grabbed his head outta the tool box and let the kid past unscathed.
As for me, Bla - fookin - Bla, new race tires fresh outta the mold have about as much traction as 10W-40 on ice. I didn’t know that. First practice, first turn, BLAM, screeeeeech. My day only got worse from there.