Laura's Photos by Louis Cohn Visit Laura's website at www.pappawheelies.com

Sunday day 2 Not much to load up - just a few things that I forgot the day before...like the toolbox that I took out to load the bike and forgot to put back IN the truck. Its daylight savings so we've all gotten an hour less sleep than usual and its showing. We're nice to each other but it's a fine line. Finally loaded up and Louie turns the key. Nothing. "Are you KIDDING ME?!" are the next words that explode out of my mouth.  A quick swap of car batteries and an hour later than planned, we're on the road. Arrive at the track; drop Taylor off at registration (she's volunteering with the club). We get the pit set up again and make a few last inspections of the bike before heading off to this morning's riders meeting. Novice practice is at 9 again, the track is drying out, I'm anxious to do better than yesterday, and the bike is running without the bump start: life IS good. I head out for practice and I'm feeling a little, um, off. Then the corner workers are motioning to me that my helmet is unbuckled - it's not. Then I realize that my Comm. cord is hanging down at they're mistaking that for my helmet strap. Ric's in the bus stop crouched down to get a better view and I figure no better place to slow down, tilt my head back and let them all relax and see that I'm strapped in just fine. Next lap and he's let them all know via the radio and there

Saturday day 1 I wake up to a dreaded noise: Rain. We're used to it here but I don't like racing in it - the FZR only has DOT tires and slick ones at that...the bike is less than predictable in the wet. We finish loading the last remaining items and we're ready to go. Arrive at the track later than planned but still in plenty of time. The rain is alternating between drizzle and pouring. Then, occasionally, there's the tease of a sun ray. Then rain again. At this point I feel a little fortunate: I don't have to agonize over "which tire to run?!" The one set takes that decision out of my hands. I DO waiver between going out and staying in. I go out in the first practice session and do about 5 or 6 laps and the bike is a little squirrelly under me - at this point I'm wishing I'd spent more time on the dirt bike over the winter. I'm apprehensive and my brain is going 1,000 mph. I come around turn 2 (long left sweeper - one of my favorites) and I fishtail the back tire enough to see the corner workers stand up and ready themselves. I stayed loose, did what my instincts told me and continued upright into turn 3. By now I'm slowing a lot. My helmet is fogging up despite the fog city. My heart is beating hard in my leathers, and I'm starting to re-think being out there in the rain. With all the distractions, I come out of turn 8 and put my hand up, I'm going in. There's still another practice and a race/heat and a full day tomorrow as well.

Second practice it's only drizzling but the track is still wet. I'm determined to go out and outrun my uneasiness. Silly part of all of this? When I'm on the track, my nervousness dissipates and I'm grinning behind my face shield. Before that? I'm a bundle of nerves - alternating between feeling on top of the world and feeling completely in over my head. I'm feeling on top of the world when I come off the track - but I'm laughing because I've got the lap timer working and my best lap was a 2:46 - yes folks, 2 minutes and 46 seconds. Now THAT's funny to me because nearly a minute slower than my best lap times last year!! But I wasn't there to set records - "Stay Upright" was my mantra. There were multiple bikes down in most of the sessions.

are no more hand gestures (that I see) at the corners. But I'm still not "feeling it". And "Stay Upright" is still my motto so I pull off before practice is over. Louie puts me on the stand and I explain that I forgot to tape up my comm. cord and that I'm not feeling "right". He reassures me that it's always a good choice to listen to that inner voice.

I've got until after lunch now to relax, socialize and watch other riders. The sun is shining; it's a great day at the track. In walking around, I feel extremely fortunate to know so many of these wonderful people - some better than others, some I avoid knowing that they're concentrating on the business at hand: racing. Back in the pit, I kick back in a chair and promptly fall asleep with the sun warming my cheeks. Louie wakes me after a short time and we head into town for a bite to eat.

After that session, Louie took the kids and headed home - he'd made other plans knowing that I was fully capable of finding any help I might need around me at the track (it really IS one big family!). I've got about 20 minutes before my scheduled start time - plenty of time to suit up and get the bike warmed up. I get suited up, pull the choke, turn the key, and hit "start". Nothing. Huh? It ran earlier and I haven't done anything to it. Try start again. Figure it's not in neutral, the light's not on, so I fiddle with the shifter. Find neutral, still no light, starter still useless. Don't Panic. Don't Panic! I head over to the pits of my friend JC. He suggests the battery’s dead and that we just need to bump start the bike. Easy for HIM to say, he rides an RS125. But I don't see another choice...so I hop on the bike, put it in third, and point it downhill while JC gives me a hearty push down the pit lane. I let out the clutch - VROOM!! Oh Thank Goodness!!

After lunch, it's race time. Suited up, I head for the pit gate and see that I'm front row center again. This time instead of a grid of 26, there are 41 - the majority of who are from the NRC the day before - this will be their first heat ever. Swell. I dub myself "road kill" and decide that I'm going for it - after the sighting lap, I take my rightful grid spot and wait for the red light to go off. My lap timer didn't work - after glancing at it for 2.5 laps, I decide to just ignore it and work on my shifting. I'm lapped by the fastest of the group and for a few turns try to keep up with them. No avail. I'm out powered. And out ridden. But I've got goals! Halfway flags and I'm in a groove, having fun, trying to ignore the rain that's starting to mar my face shield ("if you SEE raindrops on your face shield then it's really raining and slow accordingly" was Louie's advice). I kept pushing it though - the bike was sticking, I was feeling more comfortable and this was a race gosh darn it! Final lap and I'm grateful to be counted among those who finished the race upright!! I didn't get a final count of the number down but it was 3 or more. I pull into the pits greeted by a grinning Louie and trailed by a smiling Andy. I join the grinning and immediately head up to registration to tell Taylor that I finished and find out how I did with my lap times. She's seen the scoring sheet and informs me that I've finished 13th! What an end to a great weekend!

I head down to the pit gate only to find out that the NRC has just gone out and there's 20 minutes before my race. After 5 minutes the bike starts getting hot and I ride back to JC's pit and point the bike downhill and turn the key off. We bump started it once; we're going to have to do it again. I wait for first call this time and then, with a mighty push from JC, head the bike down to the pit gate and spend a couple minutes staring at the grid board. I spotted my number early but looked again, hoping there was some mistake. Nope - I'm still front row center. Slower rider, slowest bike, front row center. Genius, pure genius. Diane tells me to just grid at the back and don't worry about it. I waiver between just going for it or staying to the back. The rain and my recent slip-slide around T2 convince me that races aren't won by pure stupidity (although it is an ingredient in the recipe!!!)

We head out for our sighting lap and I hang back on the front straight and take the last row on the grid - it's part of my strategy for Staying Upright. I see the green board, the red light and then we're off! 8 laps. Relatively uneventful, I take it slow, concentrating on staying smooth and riding the lines I know so well by now. I get lapped by the front runners - that's no surprise, they're not only riding well but on machines capable of double the horsepower of mine. Crossed flags - and we're down a few riders - mechanical for 2 and one crash. I focus on "smooth and upright". Now the white flag - nearly there! Checkered flag and I breathe a sigh of relief....cool down lap and I'm ready to pit. Once in the pit, I call Louie, let him know I made it.  I get out of my now soaking gear, put on my mildly damp clothes and load the bike into Nico's trailer - he's been gracious enough to host it for the night. I break down the rest of our pit and head home for a warm shower and a congratulatory hug from my family.