2024 MRA Racing Season Recap

The season started poorly when I high-sided my bike at round 1 during the first lap of my first race. I all but destroyed it.

I’m fine, but my right hand is unlikely to ever work right ever again.

I sat out round 2.

#12 Jose offered his GSXR to race at round 3, which I think now was the plan to get me to buy another bike, which I did.

Round 3 was cancelled.

I crashed my new-to-me ZX6R race bike at the Friday track day prior to round 4 and started realizing I’m going about this all wrong and had some serious thinking to do if I wanted to continue with the sport.

I’ve crashed 5 times on track since ’22 always by myself and walked away every time. Crash #4, the big high side, was the scariest. I thought I’d broken every bone in my body. Imagine setting the cruise control to 65mph, crawling out your window, and doing a little front flip into traffic before your car crashes into something. It was something like that, but the bike switched ends, went catapult, and launched me over the bars. There was a violence to it that got me good.

That my stupid hand won’t ever be right again was a small price to pay for that one. Crash #5, the most recent that forced me to rethink things, was plain stupid. I thought I knew what I was doing! I did not!

I was talking about this with two of my customers, an older couple, and they were like you need to read this book ASAP because that racing stuff is a survival situation, and the author talks about Miguel Duhamel and racing and just read it because it seems like it could help you. And I was like yes!

The book’s called Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why. I returned to racing with a different mindset after reading it. I highly recommend it to all literate humans engaged in risk mitigation and motorbike racers especially.

I reframed racing as a type of survival situation. Deep Survival uses many examples from fighter pilots. Braking into and shooting through turn 4 at HPR is the Colorado roadracing version of putting a fighter jet on the deck of an aircraft carrier. Except we don’t do it at night with the lights off, which is nice. Those nutters on 1000cc bikes are going even faster than I am when they snatch their brakes. If someone asked me for my mama’s name at my brake marker when I’m going that fast, I better not know it. I have to be that focused. Remember that fighter pilots do even crazier things at night with their eyes closed flying the closest thing to dragons we have in this world, and when they screw up they die and tens of millions of dollars goes up in smoke.

You and your little motorbike got this.

Deep Survival reminded me there’s utility value in cultivating a sort-of “child’s mind” with respect to engaging in high risk activities. Often the danger comes from thinking we know what we’re doing, even worse knowing we know what we’re doing. Knowing and thinking both occur mostly using words, aka conscious thoughts. If the consequences of getting it wrong are so very high, and racing happens faster than humans can think, I’m better off not having conscious thoughts at all while I’m racing. I started letting the riding and racing happen on a purely emotional, body-level. No thinking allowed when I’m on the bike. Only action.

I slowed way down before speeding back up again. I had to forget I knew anything about riding a motorcycle fast in order to teach myself how to ride my new bike faster. I thought I was the hottest shit on two wheels after spending the ’23 season giving faster racers hell on an underpowered bike. I was not! I had to learn! So I did!

Fear is a funny thing. The biggest problem with my riding early in the season was a lack of fear. “Brake when you’re afraid” never worked for me, and it’s NOT because I’m a big, bad, scary dude who isn’t afraid of anything. Just to start, I’m afraid of the dark and talking to people, but, when I’m trying to go fast on a bike, I rightly decided fear would hold me back. So I didn’t invite it to the races. The answer to “Where do I brake?” has always been a math problem with fear attached at the end, only coming into play if I get the math wrong. At some point my ability to compartmentalize the fear became a liability that was going to break me and not an asset to use to push myself harder. I had to “see” that and make changes before I could move forward and get faster. The funny thing about fear is it keeps us safe. I decided to cultivate a little fear while I was racing, to use it as a tool to help me go faster safer.

It worked!

I went on to race the last 2 MRA rounds and the only Legion round at HPR full course, gridding up for 20 race starts. I podiumed 5 times, including 2 Ws at the novice Legion races. Where in the past I would go for a pass ASAP, forcing it at times, often scaring the hell out of myself but getting away with it, which was just exquisite, I found myself being more patient, watching the racer in front of me and sliding effortlessly past him when he made a mistake or in a place where I could easily go faster on a different line. I held back, observed more, and picked my spots better.

I raced with less effort, more brains and got better results in less time for it. I have been gently “coached” by nearly everyone in the paddock and much of what I’ve incorporated into my riding and racing also comes second hand from racers coached directly by either Applehans and/or YCRS. The list is too long to go through without forgetting to mention someone I had an important conversation with. If we’ve ever talked about racing, I can almost guarantee I took something from you about racing motorbikes.

I don’t use a lap timer during track days. All my data is in a notebook or my notes app, but there is quite a lot of it: dates, locations, tire pressures cold/hot warmers/hot track, ambient temps, tire wear, maintenance, times of day, thoughts and sentiments, etc. I pay close attention to my bike and gear. Is it just me with the needle and thread after every track day and race round or what? I don’t mess with my suspension a lot, but I keep notes on that, too. IMO my attitude, mindset, and approach to racing matters a hell of a lot more than the gear I’m using assuming the gear holds fluids and isn’t too bent.

Despite mistakes, missteps, poorly timed crashes, and missed rounds, I feel like ’24 was a huge season for me as a racer. I moved up from the lightweight classes and am on a competitive bike now. I started figuring out the 600 and getting a feel for front end traction under max braking at lean. I traveled out of state for a track day. I rode someone else’s bike on track, thanks Jose! I won a couple races. I ran a PB of 1:57.653 at HPR without trying too hard at the last round, almost 5s faster than I ever went on the lightweight bike and pretty sharp for a novice on a 600. I learned so much more about myself and racing motorcycles.

Most importantly, I avoided serious injury and will get to race again next season if that’s what I decide to do.

Happy Thanksgiving!!! ENJOY IT!!!