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Official Leathers Tester
Site Supporter
Team Owner Favorite Bike: Very fast 675
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: Seattle, WA
Posts: 3,610 Other Motorcycle: Very stationary Commando Extra Motorcycle: Hedge fodder Gixxer
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Portland International, July 23, 2007
I am still completely buzzing from Portland International Raceway yesterday. I had never been there, and neither of the friends I went down with had, either. We were going to head down together, but Gerald lives closer to Tacoma than Seattle, so it didn't make sense. The van didn't have a hitch on it yet, and so it could only handle two bikes anyway. Eric and I loaded my bike on Saturday, since I had family obligations on Sunday that would prevent much prep work. On Sunday, those family obligations took me to the Kitsap Peninsula, and those of you who have ever tried it know how impossible it is to get back from there on the ferry on a Sunday afternoon. So, Eric and I got off to a late start Sunday evening. It turned out ok, since we avoided all traffic through Tacoma. We had a decent supper and a couple beers on the way down, so when we got to the motel, we just went right to sleep.
In the morning, we got to the track in about five minutes. It is just across the freeway in north Portland. Unlike a lot of tracks, it is very close to downtown Portland, in an industrial zone. There are no encroaching suburbs likely to displace it when people who buy houses next to an operating track discover that race tracks are noisy! Imagine that! Whiny stupid people like that might be the downfall of Pacific Raceway, although I sure hope not. People that dumb sometimes make me wonder why their ancestors weren't lion food, but then I remember my idea of a good time is paying to go around in circles as fast as I can. Lots of people would think I am pretty dumb, too.
The track is not a technical track at all. I am used to fairly technical left turning tracks, so a point and shoot right hand track would be a new experience. Turn three has a very bad reputation for eating people on cold tires, because it is the only left turn of any note, and it comes after the left side of your tires have plenty of time to cool down again. I didn't know the track, didn't know the markers, didn't know what to expect from the pavement, and the weather was so humid you could practically see your breath even though it was warm. So, there was a whole lot to think about as we were setting up and getting signed in and through tech. I had my usual sinking feeling wondering what I was doing, only more so, since there were so many things I didn't know at all. Letting any of that show was not going to happen, though, and we let the trash talking begin in earnest after the riders meeting.
The first session out was a revelation. The track surface is much smoother than Pacific, with none of the random seams and gulfs that make Pacific such an entertaining track, in a fear and loathing way. The surface looks awful, because there is so much rubber on it, but it has a velvety feel to it. It sticks well, but there is also just a bit of give to it. I can't describe it any other way.
The three of us started out with the rest of the Intermediates, expecting to be somewhere near the slowest in class. After a few laps, all three of us started getting the basic feel of the track and started going a lot faster. The session was red flagged, since somebody decided to demonstrate the turn four problem. That earned the rest of us an admonition from the control riders. A couple sessions later, we started systematically picking people off around the track, although I got stuffed pretty hard going into turn 1 at the end of the long front straight. I discovered you can stoppie a 675 at something like 130, get a whole lot of air under your rear tire, and still drop smoothly into a turn. I don't think I could do it again, and I am very sure I couldn't do it on purpose, but it was a great confidence booster. It may sound odd, but the complete lack of drama convinced me to trust the tires a whole lot more than I did up to then.
In the last session of the morning, a rider highsided in turn one somehow and was transported. I didn't see it happen, but I came down the straight shortly after he crashed, and it looked like a mess. One of the control riders said he got his bell rung pretty badly but didn't have any more information.
I don't drink coffee during trackdays, relying on Red Bulls instead. It is a habit I picked up from another friend who doesn't drink coffee at all. Eric works in Starbucks' main office, so he thought I was completely nuts. Red Bulls taste awful, like some kind of carbonated cough syrup. But, he decided to try one at lunch, and we all went out and had our best session yet. He decided maybe there was a point to the stuff, after all. Right before lunch, we tried staring a session well after everyone else got on the track in order to have some clear track in front of us. It only worked up to a point, because we caught the main pack of riders.
After lunch, fueled by Red Bulls, we started at the front of the pack, right behind the lead control rider. He took it easy for the first lap to warm up the tires and then wicked it up pretty well. It wasn't too tough to stay with him, although I am sure he could have lost us if he wanted to. After a couple laps, he waved us past, and we started reeling in the other riders. I was very surprised to catch nearly all the other riders in the Intermediate group. It is a real tribute to how good the 675 is and how well Pilot Powers work, because I am never going to successfully impersonate Valentino Rossi. Eric got around me and as we got snarled up in slower riders, got a pretty big gap. After I got around them, the red mist settled in really hard and I set out to catch him and pass him back. I was on his tail when the checker came out and was lining him up for a pass on the brakes into turn one when he pulled over.
I didn't know what had happened, so when I had parked my bike, I went looking for him. He was pushing his bike down an access road in the heat. He could see me coming for as long as I could see him, and by the time I got close enough to hear, he said, "you have had a lot of time to think of what comments you are going to make, haven't you." He ran out of gas. I sure was happy to give him grief all the way back. Then we did the push of shame through the paddock, right past all the other riders and all the control riders. All I could say was that he spoiled my bragging rights by running out of gas before I could pass him. The bum. All the potential trash talk was negated by a few drops of gasoline. Good planning on his part, even though it meant pushing his bike the better part of a mile.
All afternoon, the track got less and less mysterious. We got really great feedback from a couple of control riders. One of them spent about fifteen minutes giving us corner by corner individual critiques of how we were approaching each corner, how we were picking our braking points, where our strengths were, where each of us had weaknesses. He said it was really interesting watching behind us, because each of us had really strong points and obvious weaknesses around the track, but each of our strengths and weaknesses was different. It kept us within about a second of each other all day.
All afternoon, the clouds kept getting darker and the air kept getting heavier. It felt like rain in the last session, but it only spat a few drops. We got good and wet packing up, but none of us cared. Heading north out of Portland was a complete waste of time at five in the afternoon, so we found a place to stop for food and the great after trackday staple, beer. We swapped a lot of tall tales, rehashed the different things that had happened, did all the ritual boasting you have to do after a track day, and finally decided we had more fun than anyone else there. Even if it wasn't true, it sure felt that way. Having friends at the track is great, but having friends at the track who are almost exactly the same skill level is even better.
The ride home took four hours, but it seemed like it took no time at all. I never want a trackday to end, but this one was especially good. Portland isn't as interesting a track as either Pacific or Spokane, but it is good to turn right for a change, and it is also a lot of fun to venture onto a completely unknown track. Over the course of the day, I tried several maps, and the maps closest to stock seemed to work best. I think I will put in the TOR map an leave it there from now on. The bike felt a bit strangled at the top with richer maps in it, and Eric had more drive and more top end with his bone stock bike. Or, maybe he is a better rider, but I will never, ever admit that!
As usual NESBA is a class act and ran a great trackday. I sure hope to make it to a couple more this summer.
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