I’ve got no idea what time we left the Titty Twister or how much beer I consumed, one thing was for sure. My head hurt but not as much as Peters or Ouly’S. I went down to their room to wake them up for breakfast and then I woke the boys up. Janette was going to join us at the track later.
We had a couple of hours to blast round the track before the races started, I made the most of it as the lads sat in the paddock and complained about their heads. Ouly said Janette was banned from the Titty Twister and he wasn’t racing today. Peter was changing tyres for people who had left it to the last minute and he was getting very frustrated.
The track was very quiet and I got a few good laps in before the masses rolled out. I was still having problems between 5 & 6. I was just going to have to red line her into 6 and hope for the best, it was only for a matter of seconds but changing up screwed up 7 for me. I was doing something wrong and I just couldn’t work out what it was. I pulled in to the pit lane and stopped outside the paddock. I wanted a quick refill and off again. Cameron and Chris were there waiting with water for me and fuel for the beast. Cameron held the funnel and Chris poured with a little help from me. Jnr was well into the swing of things and wiped the tank down with a cloth and put the fuel cap back on. They worked like a well oiled pit crew. I pressed the starter button and nothing happened, I checked to see if the kill switch had been hit but it was fine.
Peter checked the bike over and told me the starter clutch had gone. There was no quick fix and impossible to jump start an Aprilia. I was done for or so I thought, I was just about to throw a wobbly because that always fix’s the problem. When this very well built German grabbed my arm and took me into his paddock. He pointed to the floor and said I could use his external starter. He was racing a Buell and what a beast it was. A full on race bike with no starter motor and straight through pipes. I thought my bike was loud but when he started his up people ducked and came to see what the noise was.
The boys pushed me back onto the starter, I put her in gear and pressed the foot pedal, the back wheel spun up and I dropped the clutch. She burst into life with a roar and I was away grinning from ear to ear.
I had enough time for a couple of laps before the first race. Janette arrived at the track with a load of sandwiches and pop for the lads. Peter came back with a list of the race starts and timings. I was horrified, my name wasn’t on the start grid for race two. I ran down to the timing both to sort it out. They’d missed my name off and it was too late to change it. I was now starting at the back of the grid. I walked back to the paddock a wee bit pissed but my bike was working and I was in the race, it could have been worse.
Peter and Ouly had qualified 5th & 8th and the rest of the lads were spread out across the grid. 31 starters on the grid and it was loud. To be honest I can’t remember much about the race, I was to busy thinking about my own. Peter finished 2nd and Ouly a respectable 6th. 12 laps seemed to go by very quickly, I could feel the nerves building. It was like I had never been on the track before, I needed a nervous pee but it was too late. The buzzer sounded and I set of from the pit lane on my warm up lap. I couldn’t believe I was last on the grid, I wanted to shout over to the pit wall that it was all a mistake and I should have been on the front row.
A lonely BMW pulled up alongside me, I wasn’t last after all, I didn’t feel so bad now. Then I looked at the BMW, I was last and I felt just as bad. The track official was out front with his red flags and riders were starting to rev their engines. Not to be left out I joined in and looking along the pit wall I could see Janette and the boys, Cameron was shaking his fist at me like an angry farmer. I just caught the back end of the red flags leaving the track. I looked right and the green flag was up, my revs were at about 8000 as the flag dropped.
My front wheel lifted about 4 foot as I lurched forward, I passed 4-5 bikes from the line before my wheel hit the floor and 2 more as I entered the first corner and another as I came out of the corner. I had no idea what position I was in and at that point it made no matter, all I could see was a line of bikes in front of me that I needed to get past. The next left was the best corner on the track and as long as everybody stayed hard into the corner I could get a couple more by passing them on the outside. A dodgy move but I had no choice. I was moving forward in the standings but it’s the hardest thing to do, I was struggling to get past the riders in front of me.
I seemed to be static for ages and then out of the blue the chequered flag was being waved. It was all over and I was just getting started. I couldn’t believe I had just done 12 laps. On the slow down lap I suddenly felt very fatigued and hurting all over. Where had I come ? I hadn’t been overtaken so I was pleased with that and I’d finished the race. As I pulled into the pit lane I could see loads of bikes in front of me. I pulled up outside our paddock and I sent Jnr down to get the results.
The rest of the day was going to be taken up with qualifying for the 2 hour race the following day. I was kneeling in front of my bike changing the front brake pads when I was tapped on the shoulder. It was Stephan, the rider of the Ducati who I had been battling with earlier. He asked me if I would be his partner in the 2 hour race. I was chuffed to bits, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Stephan was quick and was an old hand at racing at Rijeka. He said we would talk tactics that evening in the Titty Twister over a few beers. That sounded good to me.
End of Part 3
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