Showing posts with label spain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spain. Show all posts

Almeria circuit trackday report (part two)

Following on from yesterday's post, here is part two of Brendan Kelly's Almeria experience...


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Day two

No-one else has been at the cheese platter since yesterday - it must be just for me. A great start to the day. And so, to the track once more.

It was beginning to niggle that some people on 600s were really moving on. Their corner speeds were getting higher and I was doing nothing to make up for it elsewhere, despite being on a thou'. Subliminally, Mr Cobby's words seemed to be sinking in though. I dropped down a gear compared to day one, using second instead of third nearly everywhere, dropping to first now in a couple of places, and nailing it hard on the long back straight, changing up only as I bounced off the limiter. This more spirited riding required more aggressive use of the brakes too, and now the chassis was really moving about. I started to feel the benefits of still being on a trailing front brake at turn-in time. The bike was digging in hard at either end, but felt stable regardless of which end was dug in and which end was barely kissing the tarmac.

My confidence grew and by the end of day two I'd surprised myself. I felt I was giving the bike a lot more of what it deserved. Mid-corner speeds were still lagging behind the 600s, but now I was making up for it all over the place, blasting and braking on the shortest of straights (not just on the long back straight), and charging uphill in a way the nothing else seemed to match.

My mate's confidence on the Fazer was growing too and a session with Mr Cobby had him using "more revs, less gears, more brakes" too.


Copyright © www.BritishSportPhotography.com


Copyright © www.BritishSportPhotography.com


Copyright © www.BritishSportPhotography.com


Copyright © www.BritishSportPhotography.com

But oh, that long back straight! After the chicane, turns 11 and 12 open up onto a huge 900m straight. Half way through turn 12 the in second the revs are well over 8000 rpm and the motor's getting ready to bite, so I roll on the throttle cautiously until we're a bit more upright. Then, right cheek still hanging off, I drop lower and reach forward as I wind it full on.

The front is light, but not aerial, until, in the blink of an eye, the 13,750rpm limit (that's 124mph) arrives. Nailed wide open, third is disposed of in next to no time too, and at around 148mph it's time for fourth, and now there's time to think. At this point I already seemed to be going faster than any of the other bikes, but I was still charging hard and didn't plan to stop just yet. When my nerve held I could just hit the rev limit in fourth (that's 170mph) before braking for all it's worth became an absolute priority, with just a couple of hundred metres to shed at least 120mph and settle it for the uphill right hander.

The gixxer's brakes come in for some stick in the press, but I couldn't fault them. During day two I'd dialled up an extra notch of reach on the lever to firm it up under such extreme loading, but the stopping power was awesome and was never in any doubt. Too many times the back wheel was in the air making downshifts trickier to slot in.


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The back straight experience will remain an outstanding memory of the trip. It's the fastest I'd ever been on two or four wheels, and by some margin. I've had my speed fix. Somehow it doesn't matter anymore that the bike could do 186, in a straight line on an endless expanse, where's the fun in that? When you've had it to 170, throttle nailed open, other bikes whizzing back past you like Sunday drivers, and a 100° tight up hill right hander looming large, then you've learned something of what the beast can do. The butterflies are forgotten and risking my own bike in this venture was so very worth it.

On the last lap of the last session the rubbered track started to glisten at the chicane and a few drops of rain appeared on my visor. I'd seen the clouds coming for a while but they'd held off just long enough.





The Good, The Bad and The Ugly...

The end of day two was adrenalin overload time. I was absolutely buzzing. Would I ever sleep again? Maybe I should have skipped the goats' cheese at tea? Sleep brought with it dreams of getting hopelessly lost in a crazy in-field maze with 9" vertical kerbs - could this be a reference to the spectacular fall of the day? Yes, these were track days, and there had been "incidents", but only one had been "spectacular" and even that had resulted in nothing more serious than a torn ligament or two – though the bike came off rather worse...

Day three

I still have 2mm chicken strips on the rear tyre. As day three progresses I'm getting faster, but mid-turn I'm still in my comfort zone. Confidence has continued to rise though and I'm accelerating harder, earlier and braking harder, later. And I'm doing both everywhere; every glide across the bike is now just about squeezed in between a blast of throttle and a handful of brakes, and as a result I'm passing people, as I should be, given what I'm riding. All manner of 600s, 750s and 848s are going backwards.

At lunch a couple of guys from our group inform me that my rear tyre left a big black banana shaped stripe in front of them exiting turn 12 into that long back straight. This bothered me as I hadn't thought I was trying that hard. I could remember one clumsy exit so maybe that was it? A garage mate said the 1000s do that all the time and you don't even realise: I surely hadn't...



After lunch the fear of big black bananas seemed to tame my right hand a tad, and after nearly three days I'm beginning to feel ready to wind down.

The last laps

The return to the airport was beckoning, and the day's penultimate session would have to be our last. My mate and I were agreed – we'd done well so far, so no time to tempt fate. We'd take it steadier, wind down gently and savour the last moments. If only...

My fuel light was becoming more and more insistent (let's just stay out a couple more laps) when a rider who'd been bugging one or two other guys with his "dives up the inside" came steaming up my inside on the big loopy left hander. I'd left the door open because (a) we weren't racing, and (b) half way across the track was the right line at that point. If he really wanted to pass he could have shown his skill by riding around the outside. What happened next was a little more point and shoot to stay with him through the tight stuff, and a determination to pass him back, preferably as rudely as possible. Not very grown up, I know.

As we hit the big back straight there was a gaggle in front, so I let him pass them all before diving past and out-braking myself right in front of him to the point of just making the turn, but non-the-less blasting onto the finish straight "victorious". I didn't know quite where that came from but it was definitely time to call it a day. One more lap to cool down (myself as much as the bike!) and it was back into the pit lane for the last time.


Copyright © www.BritishSportPhotography.com


Copyright © www.BritishSportPhotography.com

How it all held up

I'd covered just about 300 miles in sixteen twenty-minute sessions. That's a normal two weeks' commuting done in half the time and in just three days. If I counted right, I'd used just four lots of ten litres of petrol, meaning a slightly surprising okay 33mpg – did I count right? The oil though, just 400 miles old and a nice clear yellow at the start, was now a very dirty grey. This was disconcerting, as the previous fill had stayed clear and yellow for a full 3500 miles – fresh oil and filter required! The front discs had changed colour too, turning deep dappled blue – very cool but I'm sure it'll wear off.

The left hand engine mounting bolt, carefully torqued in and its' R&G aero bobbin, had worked loose and been re-tightened, but the left hand bar-end had leapt clean off into the unknown, never to be seen again. The rear tyre had gone from nearly new to nearly shot, and I've probably knocked a couple of thousand miles off the front tyre too, but they held up better than I expected and look properly used.



In short

A fantastic time. There was a brilliant atmosphere and we were really well looked after from start to finish. It was everything I could have hoped for, the guys from Track Sense were great and Ryan's amazing action shots are a great memento. The suspension tweaks had transformed my bike and, with three days to go at it, I had learned so much about what the bike, and with its' stock BT015s, can do, and how to make it them do it, not to mention just how physical it can be.

I'm glad I did it on my own bike this time, given that you can't hire the full-on 1000cc experience, but if I go again I'll probably hire a school R6 to advance my cornering skills and maybe get my knee down.



All in all, thoroughly recommended.

Brendan Kelly (bbstrikesagain)

Almeria circuit trackday report (part one)

UKBike regulars may remember a competition we launched in August in association with Track Sense, offering the biking trip of a lifetime to one lucky winner and a mate - three days of riding at the Almeria circuit in southern Spain, along with accommodation and plenty of extras thrown in.

Brendan Kelly (a.k.a. bbstrikesagain) was the lucky winner of this fantastic prize, and we are delighted to bring to you his report from four special days in sunny EspaƱa. Part two to follow tomorrow...




It could've been you, but no, it was me! (part one)

Back in August I submitted a follow-up review of my GSX-R1000 K8. I'd seen one or two quite detailed and informative reviews on UKBike, not to mention a few short and to the point one-liners, so I tried harder this time to be informative and entertaining. After all, even the runner-up prizes of off-road days, riding and days, dirtying someone else's bike and someone else's kit, sounded great, and there were five of them up for grabs. The closing date came and went, and just four days later there was a PM in my inbox with the subject: "How’s your Spanish?!"

Unbelievable, top step of the podium! The prize: three days on track at "Circuito de Velocidad de Almeria", in southern Spain's spaghetti western dessert, for me and a mate, on our own bikes, fully inclusive of bike transport, four nights in a four star hotel, hire car, etc., all complements of UKBike and TrackSense. Brilliant! All I had to do was buy the plane ticket! Oh yes, and tell the wife...

Tell the wife... This whole thing was down to her really. She'd recently arranged to go with a couple of friends to... Almeria. Now those friends were my friends too, and I love the Sergio Leone movies as much as any of them, so, why couldn't I come along? Apparently theirs was to be a "girly" trip: entirely burp, fart and testicle free! Doh! Prior to their departure though, the UKBike competition was announced. "Hah!" says I, "I'll win me a boys' trip!" Imagine the girls' faces when I announced that I'd done just that! Priceless, and the trip hadn't even got underway yet.

Ready for the off?

For some people, track days are their bread and butter. Somehow, they were one of those never-quite-got-around-to-it things, for my biking friend and me: probably on both of our bucket-lists, but there never seemed to be a right time. So, last April, when I plumped for the white gixxer as my daily transport, it had been for its impeccable road manners (see the reviews) as much as anything. The idea of taking it out on a track full of other lunatics was slightly disturbing, as was the idea that if I, or anyone else, broke it I'd have to fork out for any repairs. In September my bike and I were rear ended by a Galaxy, so I was painfully aware how repair bills can mount up!

There were plenty of butterflies fluttering daily during the countdown, peaking when we trailered the bikes to the depot for their long journey south. My mate's Fazer FZ6S was much loved and had to be the tidiest and sparkliest specimen on the planet, so I suspect he too may have had a few nagging first-track-day doubts.

The day after before tomorrow

It'd been a couple of hours drive from San Javier Airport (near Murcia) to check in to the Gran Hotel, Almeria late on Saturday night. On Sunday morning, seeking distraction to calm those butterflies, we drove to Fort Bravo a.k.a. Texas Hollywood. One of three spaghetti western studio theme parks in the area, and reputedly the best, it was good for two or three hours taking in the vibe, delving into the saloons, banks and jails, remembering the great Sergio Leone masterpieces, and finding shade. Yes, southern Spain is still pretty hot and sunny in October.

Driving a few km down the road we located the circuit. Seeing and hearing other bikes screaming past wasn't too good for the nerves, so rather than hang around we took a drive up the nearest mountain pass. In twenty kilometres we rounded countless dozens of hairpins and attained an altitude of 1,860 meters. Sadly we were about 200 metres into the cloud: I'm sure on a clear day the view would be quite something.

The white graffiti on the tarmac on the way up was testament to the local enthusiasm for cycle races. Making it to the top of that pass on pedal power would be astounding enough, but racing up it? At the summit we took leave of the car for the cooler, cleaner air, but after a few minutes we retreated as the distant gunfire seemed to be getting closer – we didn't want to be mistaken for vermin before getting on track.

On the way down, a wondrous Mordillo style image of the impossibly twisted road below peeked though the clouds.



Day one

Breakfast was great. It included a cheese platter with an amazing range of fine, presumably local, goat's cheeses, coffee as strong as the goat's cheese, and plenty of other stuff for normal folk.

Apparently, in Almeria it rains just four days a month at this time of year. This was looking like one of them, with a steady morning drizzle, but by the time we'd driven up to the circuit it was beginning to lift.

We collected our bikes from their pallets and found a garage. The garages had just been extended to double their original depth, so there was plenty of room. We shared with a nice couple from Stuttgart with a wicked Ducati 999 SuperBike and a beautiful little Bimota DB1; a couple of guys supported by respective family and partners with their track honed '08 blade and trick gixxer 600; and a pair of adventurous chaps who'd ridden all the way down on their Ninja and CBR sixes (and were planning to ride away on them too, all being well). There was also a gorgeous tricked-up Ducati 749. A mixed bag of abilities, experience, and nerves...

Track Sense's Alan was to prove an excellent host, doing his rounds of the garages, making everyone feel at home and making sure we knew what was on the agenda – like the compulsory first day briefing, and the optional extra classes on the following days.

After a short briefing the red (advanced) group were sent off to fuel their bikes. There was a little more briefing for the green (intermediate) group and yet more for the green-behind-the-ears blue (novice) group. How many flags?!

Having waited for the rain to stop, the start was an hour late, but an extra session was added at the end to make up. Finally the sound of thunder erupted all around and the advanced group took to the drying track. Sighting laps at warp speed it seemed – luckily each garage was thoughtfully equipped with two khazis, just enough...

A fistful of dollars...

Or, more particularly, euros, buys the first can of fuel, pretty much at pump prices, which is lucky, as there'll be a few of these needed. Ten litres straight in and we're finally ready to go.

First laps

Each day for each group would begin the same, with three single-file sighting laps behind the instructor. To a complete novice these felt brisk enough on day one. I'd studied the track plans and watched a few videos, but the sighting laps filled in a lot of gaps, especially where the track rises and falls, and the blind turns.

After the sighting laps I gradually lifted my pace, but I was constantly aware (and photographer Ryan's photos prove this point) that one finger of my right hand was always hovering over the brake lever. Not good.


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I was mostly using mid-range revs, emulating the many videos I'd seen on t'internet, sticking to third gear through all but the tightest turns. I was just trying to be smooth, trying to ride the line we'd been shown on the sighting laps. All too soon, the chequered flag was out and the first twenty minute session was over.

The second session was more of the same, trying to be smooth, and trying not to be phased. The mantra of "if you think you're not going to make it round a corner, tip it in anyway, the bike will do it" ringing in my head, striving to prise that finger off the brakes...


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On the long back straight I found time to experiment with the A/B/C throttle mappings. Just like on the road, C was non-linear and slow: the bike pulled like a 600 but why would you want it to? B was smoother and stronger but still reluctant to give its all. The default A (full power) setting was the only way to go, so much more linear and instinctive that I never touched the switch thereafter.

Sussing the suspension and tyre pressures

After just two sessions the rear tyre was looking seriously scraggy on the shoulders but largely untouched in the centre. Meanwhile the front was showing no obvious signs of use. I'd also noted some judder on the brakes into the chicane. Word in the garage was that my suspension and tyre pressures badly needed sorting.



For a few dollars more...

I visited Almeria's resident suspension expert. I explained that I was out of my depth but wasn't at all sure things were working right. He only had to bounce the bike around a bit to know it needed work. Everything was way too stiff and he found it difficult to believe these were the standard factory settings. For a small fee he set to work, and would look after me for the duration. He dropped the front preload and reset the front and rear compression and rebound damping, high and low speed. The bike was radically softer, and as I rode out across the paddock I wondered how I'd ever adjust.

Through the rest of the sessions I started to appreciate his work. Now I could feel things happening when I accelerated and braked, and with it came a little more confidence. The chicane judder was gone, and better still, in the middle of the long turns the bike felt much more adjustable in response to the pegs. I hadn't seemed reluctant to turn before, but now it was eager to drop in whenever I was ready.

The suspension changes, together with finding the right pressures for the BT015s (31/35psi front/rear when cold), meant that now my tyres were looked to be working much better, both wearing nicely as far round the profiles as I dared to push.

A lesson with Ian Cobby

My last session was a lesson with the patient and obviously talented Ian Cobby. As I drove back to the hotel his words were still ringing in my ears: "more revs, less gears, more brakes". I didn't dwell on the positives (body position and lines) but on the fact that I supposedly had to hustle this 1000cc monster, the message being that you can be in charge of a 600 but when you're on a 1000 it's in charge, so you have to use what it's got where you can, ride it like a superbike and nail it hard between all the turns.

It had been a long day. Did he realise I wasn't planning to be a racer, and that my bike wasn't some sacrificial track hack but was pristine, new and much loved? How could he expect a novice to do this thing justice? I was resigned to quietly forget what he'd told me and go out tomorrow trying to be smooth and safe.

Back in Almeria, goat's cheese pizza, ice cream and San Miguel topped off the day.

Brendan Kelly (bbstrikesagain)
Read part two here...