Round9 MRO RSV Cup
Snetterton 8&9-09-01

At Snetterton, alone, no crew nor family due to a clash of schedules, I was glad Wozza had saved me a space in his garage. Phew !
Saturday was a fun day with the Bemsee club, a few of the MRO regulars had the same idea, so when I finished race 1 in 4th place behind two other RSV’s it was no surprise.

I knocked a whole second off my personal best, set last time at Snetterton with a slipping clutch and the original motor, so I knew there was better to come as the day went on.


Revving out at 151mph on the back straight, with the red warning light flashing away for 500 yards before braking for the Esses, I decided to gear up a tooth, as the other RSV’s were pulling two teeth higher than me, and topping at 158mph !

For the second race I was on the front row, a rare occasion and one I was relishing, but the extra gearing turned out to be a mistake, everyone went faster in race 2, except me. It just wouldn’t pull it, and my terminal Vmax was slower at 146mph. My lap times were identical to race 1, to show that I was trying harder, but slower on the straights. Damn, I finished 7th, but at least I’d learnt something which is what the play day was all about. My bike will not pull the higher gearing that newer RSV’s will power through. OK. Sure enough the dyno charts showed a big dip in my curve at 7,000rpm that the others were flying through, peaking higher and earlier than mine with a flatter torque curve. Damn I need a new bike !

Dave turned up on Saturday night and the wind darn near blew everyone’s awnings away, rain lashing the paddock. I was glad our bike was in a garage, and our awning was still wrapped up in the cupboard !

Sunday dawned, and I had new tyres for the occasion, morning warm up went fine, had a trundle round to scrub them in, and was happy with the way the bike was handling.

Out for qualifying I realised just how much speed I was giving away. I’d get passed on each straight by at least one bike, and be unable to even hold onto the draft to get a tow. They’d just pull away effortlessly and there was nothing I could do about it. Sure enough, next straight, I couldn’t even see them, and another bike would come past. Shit. I qualified a terrible 14th, but this being the fastest track we visit, it was no real surprise, more of a disappointment.

14th on the grid, I made a good start in the race, having paced up and down looking at the sky, trying to pre judge what might happen, tools and wets on standby, but there was a massive dry line and we all went out on drys.

I got a great start but slipped back just as soon as we got to the first straight. And further still with every lap. I figured I was down in 15th place on lap 5, Dave made it nearer 22nd ! I was furious !

Then it started drizzling. Suddenly I was getting glimpses of bikes ahead, and they were getting closer and closer as the rain increased. I pushed and pushed, taking far too many risks to real them in. Sure enough I got in touch with a whole gang of bikes, and all I could think was "Look at all those places just waiting for the taking !" Each straight they would pull away on mass, and again I’d have to reel them in. Then it really hammered down, and no one could open the throttle without massive amounts of wheel spin, and the stopped pulling away on the straights.

 I got my head down and stuck it under one or two, I knew who they were and it included some usual front runners like Booker. I was sliding about but really without a care, I was out of the points let alone the money and had nothing to lose. Taking places lap by lap, I was watching my lap counter and carefully planning where and when to overtake the next guy. Some I had no choice about, I was already sideways and coming through. Sorry !


At the head of the bunch was Neil Simpson #22. I haven’t seen him all season, he’s usually way gone. I tailed him for two laps before putting a move on the brakes into the Esses at the end of the main straight. He would have to crash to come past me on the outside !

He folded, I took off. Convinced they would all be baying for my blood for the remaining three laps I got my head down and kept pushing, only affording a look back on the last lap to see if I needed to protect my lines or take any risks to hold position. The only bike I could see was Neil Simpson #22 and he was well out of contention, so I cruised to the finish, taking no chances and jumped up and down on the pegs as I wheel span across the start finish line, exhilarated.

After the slowing down lap, Dave was waiting for me in pit lane with a grin on his face. As I stopped he simply said "6th" I was beaming. I shot off to Parc Ferme, rested the bike up and went to the caravan to dry out, I was soaked through. Superb, my best result this year, it can rain from now until Christmas !

It turns out that after I’d passed the huge bunch in front of me at mid race distance they’d started tangling and taking risks. Roger Ford paid the price and threw it away at the Russell's Chicane, taking #13 Stuart McClure with him. There were others too, and the sorry collection of battered machinery in Parc Ferme was testament to the awful conditions. The only guy in front of me to fall was Darren Jones #77, running 5th and pushing for 4th from John Rhodes. He tucked on the brakes into turn 1 and had to watch the last 2 laps with the marshals. I owe him my thanks, his was the only place I made up without having to take a chance on crashing myself !

Cheers Darren, Bad luck old bean.