Oulton Park Track Day, 02/09/02

Both bikes were trailered up the god awful M6 to Cheshire, on a rare sunny Tuesday in September. With little preparation other than an oil change and mirror/indicator removal the VFR800 was ready for more. The VFR750 was simply ready and waiting, but I did splash pout on some very expensive (£1.06 per litre) "Classic" 4 Star fuel in a bid to keep the engine happy though I can’t honestly say I could feel any difference in performance.

Diving in to the canteen to sign on and endure the riders briefing, I was presented with my first hurdle. I’d surrendered my licence to the boys in blue after a brief moment of madness on the M6 one Sunday. The replacement document they issue you with while the original is away being endorsed is not acceptable, but I can produce it in a police station, a car hire centre etc as a valid driver's licence. Not good enough for these Tossers though. "Come back at 9;00am" he says, "we’ll have to phone the DVLA and get your drivers number !" I was getting a bit pissed off by this point, "It’s on the bloody form!" says me, "I’ll miss the first session on track at 9:00pm !!" real patient, not. Anyway, the upshot of it all is that I got him to phone early and I was allowed out on track just in time for the first session. Blimey, I got some sense out of them, amazing.

Ripping off the tyre warmers (I remembered there were a few electrical hook-ups where the burger van parks on race days) and running for the open gate, I was stopped for a noise test, as was everyone else. Holding 6,000rpm I was shown 110Dba on the noise meter and pointed away from the gate, no go. So I shot off to get on the VFR800 which breezed through the noise test at 102Dba with its "Scorpion" Alloy Race Can. I had some fun on that first track session but must confess to being a little too flustered and hot under the collar to actually enjoy myself fully.

Oulton is a lovely track, I could ride round there all day, on anything, just for the views. I was out with the FAST group, and there were some good guys there. Mostly Ducati’s, with the odd SP1 or RSV thrown in, fully race kitted and ballistic fast. A few R1’s were sprinkled in with some CBR’s for taste and we had a right old selection out there to play with! At the end of the session, we tried opening the VFR750's "Wolf" Oval Carbon race can to add some extra wadding though I knew in my heart that packing wouldn’t account for 5Dba’s ! Sure enough it wouldn’t come apart so we were stuck. Graham, who had come along for the day to help out, suggested I try the VFR800’s can on the VFR750.

Well blow me down, it slipped straight on and even the hanger bracket lined up! It looked great, but would it fool the noise meter? I rolled over to the scrutineers and explained what we’d done. He tested me and still shook his head. 106Dba , but I’d only blipped the throttle this time instead of holding a constant 6K like the first test. My face dropped and I must have looked really sad, ‘cos he gave me permission to go out on track, if I promise to get it repacked for next time. Superb, we were on !

Out on track on the old VFR750 was just like old times. The main difference was the tyres, the year old scrubs I’d bought in Spring 2001 to test ride the RSV at Mallory were showing their age but standing up well after there previous track day at Cadwell. I guess the tyre warmers helped a little to boost their performance so they were well worth bringing after all. I flew around, just like old times, and enjoyed jumping a Ducati 748 just as I had done in the first session on the VFR800. If anything the old girl felt under geared, it was bouncing off the rev limiter in top gear as I ran down to "Knickerbrook" and over the back towards "Lodge". 

Checking my gearing chart I was on exactly the same gearing as the one and only time I’d raced it here, (half way through the 1999, to test the trouble some "Megacycle" camshafts). I had been on brand new slicks back then, nice soft qualifying Michelins, but now I’m running two year old second hand Dunlop GP208 scrubs (or GP207 Stars as they were known) that I’ve used twice over already on two different bikes! They were lasting well enough for a play day. The bike on the other hand was just gagging for more, not behaving like a 15-year-old Ex-Race bike at all, straight round to the 11,500 red line and banging away on the limiter.

I went out again in the next group on the VFR750 again, as we were reluctant to keep swapping the can back and forth between bikes. It’s flipping hot after a 20 minute run I can tell you! I hassled 916’s and RSV’s with a grin and a giggle, but I must admit it took all I had to muscle the old girl around at that pace. There were a couple of race prepped bikes that caught and passed me, but I’d never expect my 90bhp VFR750 to keep up with a 140bhp 1000cc racer, well not on the straights anyway. Most of my passing was under forcible out-braking, sometimes two or three bikes at a time. Occasionally I’d take a couple of laps to catch a quicker rider, and another lap to size him up before jumping past at his worst point. Typically into turn one with my foot pegs scrapping the floor, knee slider burning through in sympathy with my boots that had holes rapidly developing where the toe sliders used to live! I really enjoyed getting off line to the left and squeezing inside to enter the left-right-left chicane before the charge down to "Knickerbrook". That really threw them off, and cost them time so they couldn’t drive out and jump me on the following straight. In fact, everyone that I put a move on, stayed behind for the duration. I was really looking forward to upsetting someone, enough for them to have a go back and make my day, but alas, it was not to be. I thought this was a "FAST" group?

After that session we dropped the gearing on the VFR800 because it was really struggling, not even getting close to top gear. A 45-tooth rear replaced the 42 standard rear sprocket, and we swapped the exhaust pipe back to the 800 ready for the next run. I dialled in a couple of clips of rear rebound adjustment to try and help it stop weaving on corner exit, but I knew in heart that it wasn’t wallowing suspension, but tyre wear that was the root cause. It seemed to help, but as I began to push yet harder driven on by the extra oooooomph afforded by the lowered gear ratio it was shaking quite badly. The lack of steering damper was very obvious, especially on the exit of Druids as you cross the brow hard on the gas and still crossed up. The front wheel paws the air and it weaves quite badly, edging towards a tank slapper. A firm grip is required and a careful exit line to avoid a hasty retreat into the straw bails. Down into the left hander at "Cascades" I was getting braver and braver through the preceding fast blast right kink. Eventually I went for a gap too far and lost front then rear as it crossed up, diving under the target bike I regained control and wound it back open with an insincere, yet apologetic, wave over my shoulder to the poor chap that had just been "Viffered". Phew, that was close.

A couple more close shaves preceded the chequered flag, and I came off ready for a lunch break confessing to a little sensation called punch drunk, or circuit dizzy; The sensation of immortality that usually precedes a total fuck up. We took an early lunch to beat the rush, then returned to raise the gearing on the VFR750 to help the valve gear stay intact! With the old girl all back together minus the exhaust can, she was wrapped up in her tyre warmers to cook for a couple of hours on a medium heat, while I took the VFR800 out for one last blast. Graham got the stop watch out and put the camcorder away, so that’d I’d concentrate on putting in some good lap times instead of posing for the camera every lap! 

We were both very interested to see which would be quicker around here, the 110bhp VFR800 that weighs 230kg and has linked brakes and standard Honda pads, or the 15 years old, 180Kg 90bhp VFR750 that has proper racing brakes. I gave the VFR800 everything I had, and Graham noticed the difference straight away. My lap times were fairly consistent to the point where he could tell when I’d encountered traffic and when I’d had a hassle free lap. My best lap was chasing down a troublesome 916 that I’d caught several times through the day but never squeezed past, always being saved by the flag! I gave it everything, forgetting the fact that it’s my sole road legal machine at the moment and without it I’d struggle to get to work in the morning. Forgetting the worn, two-year-old tyres. Forgetting the fact that I’m now a father of two and a breadwinner for my family. No, I wanted him so badly that I could taste it. It’s been a while since that level of Red mist had popped up. I showed him a nose here and there, but he’d keep pulling away with his superior horsepower. Finally, down into "Cascades" I made a desperate last gasp move and squeezed up the inside as he made ground right on the racing line. I held him off and pulled a slight gap to the end of session flag and was pretty pleased with myself, and had enjoyed wagging the VFR’s tail in his face finally. It had bucked and weaved all over the place, noticeably on the exit of Lodge as we drove for the crest of "Dears Leap" and charged past the pit wall. 

The tyres are well and truly shot, even felt hard and dusty to the touch. They won’t live to see another track day, doomed to dye of boredom on the daily commuter run. I would have been happy with any lap time under 2 minutes, but Graham reported a best of 1’ 53.4" as I hunted down the duke in the dying minutes of the session. I was happy with that so the VFR800 was loaded back on the trailer and the race pipe swapped onto the VFR750 for a final fling. Could it make up the 25bhp and 12 year age difference, or had technology triumphed over time and racing developments. I had a similarly eventful time, enjoying every minute but not sparing a thought for any consequences. If I’d crashed the old girl it would have just had to sit in my garage for a couple of years looking tatty, instead of sitting there begging to be let out to play again. If the motor blew up it would give me a good excuse to build her a new one. So you see I had nothing to lose.

The tyres seemed much happier than the ones on the VFR800, and the brakes didn’t fade like the OE Honda pads in the VFR8000. Maybe I should put EBC "HH’s" in the VFR800 at last!

The chassis was settled and the steering damper had a big part to play. Not once did it feel out of shape, we enjoyed ever minute together. Even running wide into druids a couple of times and dropping two instead of one gear so I could wheelie off the crest as I exited, which always feels really good hooked up in 3^rd about 90mph!! The long, long left after "Cascades" as you hurtle towards the Shell Hairpin felt really great, prolonged left knee down is a rare experience on UK track, only Pembrey offers a similar experience. I returned to the paddock a sweaty heap, and Graham was covering the stop watch display with a grin. 1’ 52.2" The old girl was faster after all, Blimey. That’s just 0.6 secs outside my personal best set in the height of summer on brand new Michelin Slick Qualifiers, when the engine was fresh and tight !

I was pleased as punch with that and before we packed up to hit the M6 south bound before the traffic got too bad and spoiled an otherwise perfect play day I let Graham have a toddle about the paddock on the old girl, as a treat. Thanks to Graham for his time and efforts, he got a bit of video of both bikes running around, all be it sharing the same race can, it was amazing how look and sound completely different! Maybe I’ll do one more track day, but I’ll have to get some fresh scrubs and put better brake pads in the VFR800’s. Maybe even fit a steering damper too.