Usgp!
USGP!
RACE WATCH
Laguna Seca IV, Wayne Rainey III
IT'S LIKE A PEBBLE. THROWN INTO A pond. I thought to myself as we dipped in and out of hairpin corners and fog Ofl California's Coast Highway. But here, the waves start at the outer fringes of the pond and radiate inward, concentrating toward the source.
Thousands of motorcycles leave their far-flung garages and driveways all over the country and head for the margins of a small racetrack near the central coast of California. forming ever-smaller circles and finally gath ering to watch the stone hit the water. Strange physics.
The stone hitting the water. of course, was the fourth-annual United States Grand Prix at Laguna Seca. As Allan Girdler and I were riding in oii Friday morning, the density of mo torcycle traffic began to pick up noticeably about 100 miles south of the circuit: Waves of Japanese sportbikes with riders in leathers—some obviously real roadracers, with names and numbers stitched on the back and battle scars on elbows and knees; tucked-in BMW guys with sleek luggage and black-leather tank covers; Harley riders of both the Sportster and 80-cubic-inch persuasion, favoring chaps and windburn around the goggles; slow fat guys with dorky old bikes and crooked piles of camping gear tied on with ropes, probably having more fun at lower cost than anyone on the planet.
PETER EGAN
We sat upright and slowed for Carmel and Monterey, cruising into town with a large gaggle of bikes, finding our hotel just off Cannery Row, the one-time fish-processing area made famous by novelist John Steinbeck that is now a major tourist attraction. The newspaper headline in the hotel lobby read “Sardines Return to Monterey Bay.’’
“So much for the gift shops and hotels and restaurants,” Allan said. “They'll soon turn this place back into an actual row of canneries.” Steinbeck, I remarked, could then stop spinning in his grave. We checked into the hotel, dumped off our luggage and rode out Highway 68 to the track. The Laguna Seca circuit is only a few miles inland from the coast, draped over a hilltop with contours like the crown of a tooth. In the center of the track is a small silver filling in the form of a lake. Also stuck in the tooth is a large midway where you can buy fried calamari, Italian sausage, Cajun gumbo, leathers, helmets, boots, badges, motorcycle art. tinted sportbike windshields and posters of women in extremely small > swimming suits who seem enthralled bv motorcycles. Apparently they are more numerous than experience would indicate.
We de-biked and wandered trackside just in time to have the 5()()cc (iP bikes snarl and w heelie out of pit row and onto the track for afternoon practice and qualifying. Raines and Kocinski on their Marlboro-red Yamahas: Schwant/, with a I.ucky Strike circle on his leathers and his Su/.uki's lairing: Gardner and Doohan on their blue-and-w hite Rothmans Hondas.
C igarettes and motorcycles. One of the strange issues in this year's racing. A few Luropean countries have already banned from television the product that dare not speak its own name, and more threaten to do the same. The question of future sponsorship for many of the race teams is up in the air. Regardless of what happens, it's nice to know our health is being looked after by people who are smarter than we are. and that all risk will soon be eliminated from our lives. I suppose these same people, having conquered tobacco, will be free to focus their attention on the hazards of motorcycling. Or skiing, or something.
Fortunately, there were other questions, more immediately ger> mane to the sport, to he settled at Laguna Seea. Would Kevin Schwant/ stay on his Suzuki long enough to win. as he had at the Japanese OP. despite his historv of crashing here'.’ Would l 990 25()ce world champ and new kid in 500 OR. John Kocinski. run awav with it. barring the togged visor problems he had in Japan and Australia? Could four-time World Champion Lddic Lawson be competitive on the Italian-red Cagiva? Would Wav ne Rainevs maturitv and masterful competence pav olf with another Laguna win —his third in a row —and keep him in the 1991 points lead'.’
We stood bv the track, near the entrance to Turn Two. and watched the drama begin to unfold.
Sehwant/ came streaking over the hill at a speed that no amount of brake pad or tire rubber should hav e been able to dissipate, somehow slow ed enough for the corner, got on the power in a hair-raising display of drift and rear-tire spin, then w heelied all the wav to Turn Three with his bike shuddering under the sheer horsepower. A cheer went up from the crow d.
If the appearance of speed set lap records and won races. Sehwant/ w ould be on every pole and w in evcrv race. Of course, he often does both, and looks fast because he is. But there's something extra there, an exuberance, a will to wring out the chassis, a flamboyant sense of attack on the circuit. No matter how fast he's going. Schwantz appears to have leftover adrenalin that causes the bike to twitch and dance like something with high voltage humming through the frame. He rides like a man who has impatience on top of terrific speed, as if there will never be a bike made that doesn't hold him back. His riding style is the best show in roadracing.
Rainey, too. streaks by at amazing speed, but with a different style. He swoops around the track in clean, deadly arcs of speed, driving hard out of corners. The consummate professional. smooth and at the limit, with the wheels placed just right. He laps with a kind of circuit-board precision. Except when he almost loses it and then gathers things up in Turn Four. Then you see how hard he's really pushing and how close he is to the edge.
Lawson also flies into the turn, showing his usual relentless determination. moving his tall frame around the Cagiva with a kind of fierce angularity. What’s surprising is how fast his 20-year-old teammate, Alexandre Barros. looks, staying with Lawson. Michael Doohan and Wayne Gardner flash by in tandem, riding with a vengeance, while the wiry Kocinski closes on both of them. He appears to be having no trouble adapting to the 170-horsepower 500cc racebikes. He seems to have been born on one.
It's hard to compare one era with another because of changes in technology, but as I watch practice, I think to myself that these may be the best riders who ever lived. If they aren't individually better than riders of an earlier generation, there are more of them on the track at one time.
It's also hard to judge lap times by watching people ride, but when all the practice and qualifying are over, most of the riders who look fast. are. Kocinski initially has fast time on Saturday, but is just nipped by Rainey, a mere 0.07 of a second quicker, with a 1:26.464 in the last session of the day. Third, also in the 1:26s. is Schwantz. followed by Doohan. Lawson, Gardner and Barros, all in the 1:27 bracket.
So far. so good. No disasters, injuries or accidents. Schwantz is up and un fallen, the Cagivas have promise, and Kocinski looks set to make teammate Rainey’s life interesting, as does this remarkably quick Australian fellow, Mick Doohan.
Sunday opens with an excellent 250 GP race, won by Rothmans Honda’s Luca Cadalora, who leads from the pole and then leads again after the race is red-flagged because of a single-bike accident on the 1 5th lap. Wilco Zeelenberg's Honda is second and Loris Reggiani, on an Aprilia, is third. Heavy trackside cheering for American Jimmy Filice, a former 250 winner at Laguna, whose engine and gearbox problems keep him back in 16th spot this time.
For the Big Race, we hike up to the top of the Corkscrew, from which the ocean is visible, despite predictions of rain. The 500s do a sighting and a warmup lap, and then there's silence as we wait for the start.
Suddenly, the number-one Team Marlboro Roberts Yamaha explodes over the hilltop, Rainey in the lead, hotly pursued by Schwantz and Kocinski. Lawson’s Cagiva is right behind them. By the third lap. Kocinski is past Schwantz and making a run at Rainey’s undiminished lead, but the loudspeakers tell us on lap six that he has fallen in Turn Two and is out. Kocinski, unhurt, is later arrested for cutting through traffic while leaving the track early. Not a great day for the kid.
With Rainey's strong lead, attention shifts to the Schwantz/Doohan battle, but Doohan finally passes the Texan on lap 2 1 and stays there until the race ends. Schwantz, showing a new-found maturity, lets Doohan go and seems content to stay in third place with his wheels underneath him. Meanwhile, the four-bike battle for fourth is a hotbed of passing activity. It’s the Cagivas of Lawson and Barros mixing it up with Gardner's Honda and Frenchman Jean-Phillipe Ruggia's Sonauto Yamaha. When it's over, a determined Ruggia will have won the internal battle, with Lawson right behind him in fifth, his best finish yet this year. Barros is sixth, Gardner, never a fan of the Laguna Seca circuit, is seventh.
Rainey has won his third-consecutive USGP, cleanly, neatly, convincingly, and leads in the world points standings, with 55. Doohan now has 5 1 and Schwantz 46.
The sidecars are next—and last — and a sizeable part of the crowd remains to watch the British team of Steve Webster and passenger Gavin Simmons take the victory in/on/ around their Silkolene-sponsored Krauser outfit. If I had a nickel for every time some nearby spectator said. “You'd never get me to do that,” we could have flown home in a new Learjet.
No nickels were forthcoming, however, so we rode home the next morning on motorcycles.
Over breakfast at the little roadside café in Lucia. David Edwards watched the bikes streaming homeward on the Coast Highway and wondered aloud if Laguna was becoming America's Isle of Man.
We discussed it for a while and decided that maybe the country is too big and diverse to have a single focal point, an annual Woodstock for motorcycles. Our Isle of Man is split up into Daytona and Loudon and Sturgis and a dozen other places.
“Laguna needs the sound of big Twins and the charm of vintage bikes,” Allan Girdler said, “if it's ever going to be like the Island, which has something for everybody.”
Then Allan went out and started up his Sportster, just as an immaculate Triumph Daytona sped past, running in a crowd of newer, faster sportbikes.
As we merged with the flow, I thought that the USGP at Laguna may not be the Island, but after just four years, it has come to seem more and more like one of them. S
