Budget Racing
BUDGET RACING
ON TRACK FOR $1500
JOHN BURNS
I ALWAYS WANTED TO GO ROADRACING, but I never had any money. For some reason, I just assumed that, at minimum, you needed a hopped-up four-cylinder Something-or-Other and a fresh pair of $300 slicks for every race. I figured I had about as much chance of going racing as I did of being drafted by the Dodgers.
Then, someone tossed up the idea of Singles racing.
Singles? Aren’t those kind of, well, SLOW? How much fun would it be steering around a racetrack with the throttle wide-open the whole way?
America has never been big on single-cylinder motorcycles, but I tracked down and bought a consumptive 1986 Yamaha SRX-600, in all its four-valve, 595cc glory, for $750. It seemed overpriced at the time, but the guy I bought it from is Denny Berg, bike mechanic extraordinaire. For that price, I also purchased the right to call him up for technical assistance whenever I needed it, and he threw in a box that held extra engine covers, levers and even a spare gas tank.
That box of spares also contained a new pair of stock piggyback shocks. I stuck ’em on. Berg is head of prototype and production for White Bros., so I called him up and ordered Progressive Suspension fork springs ($56), a Kerker racing exhaust ($220), K&N jetting kit and air filters ($99) and an RK non-O-ring (for less drag) chain and new sprockets ($80).
Metzeler tires are not the cheapest, but they have a reputation for sticking and lasting a long time. The SRX takes a 100/80-18 front and a 120/8018 rear, Comp K, of course (about $200). I also installed custom-made steel-braided front-brake lines, just to look cool, even though the stock hoses worked fine ($60).
And voilà-my very own racebike for $1265. That price includes the fun I had yanking and generally disemboweling the SRX of all its streetgoing equipment.
Then, I called up the American Road Racing Association, one of Southern California’s race clubs, and ordered a rule book for $5. (If there’s a race track in your area, there’s probably a race club. Look in the back of Cycle News or ask the person who looks the poorest at your friendly neighborhood bike shop.)
The ARRA runs more than 20 classes, including 500cc Singles, 600cc Singles and Formula Singles, as well as a few other classes the SRX can run in with no chance of success.
Safety now. At right wire. first, way-I I love I tried took to to everything safety do it wire the apart and drilled holes in nuts and bolts using a vise and Cycle World’s drill press. Then, I found out I could leave fasteners on the bike and use a Black & Decker cordless drill, with the bits sold for it at K-Mart. I got carried away. I even safety-wired my cat’s tail to his body to make him “snagless.”
It’s a strange thing. I started out sort of ashamed of my crappy little SRX, then, the more time I spent cleaning it up and adjusting things, the more I began to like it. Yeah, as a motojournalist, I sometimes get to ride GSX-Rs, RC30s and all kinds of great bikes, but they are never mine to modify or race, and a bond never develops. What could the average garage-Joe do to improve an RC30, anyway?
Naturally, to go racing, you need leathers, a good helmet, gloves and boots. You may already have those things if you’re contemplating racing. I did. If not, count on another $1200, minimum.
Bike and gear taken care of, all that’s left is getting yourself to the track. Unfortunately, the only one we have left in Southern California is Willow Springs, where there are neither willows nor springs. The ARRA, like most clubs, has a race school ($60) you must attend to get your competition license ($100 per year). The school is held Saturday morning; if you pass, you do your first Novice race Saturday afternoon. If you survive three Novice races, you’re then classified Expert (whatever happened to Intermediate or Journeyman or Racer Apprentice?) and are allowed to run with the big dogs on Sunday.
Twenty of us took the class, led by ARRA instructor Danny Farnsworth, who explained flags, starting procedures and, to start us off in the right frame of mind, a few graphic orthopedic horror stories about compoundfractured femurs, severed thumbs, feet pointing backwards, etc. There were, and always will be, some commendable crashes in the big-bike classes, but disaster is much less frequent in Singles and Twins classes. As one Singles veteran said, “Most of these people have to be back at work tomorrow.”
We got on the track after a few classroom hours, and I was amazed to learn
that my Yamaha wasn’t half-bad. It went straight with no wobbles, around corners with no shimmies or weaves, and wasn’t nearly as slow as I’d expected. In fact, it turned out to be a helluva fun bike due entirely to its lack of weight and power. Though I had never raced before,
I had ridden at Willow a number of times on test bikes that were much, much better than me-and had usually left at the end of the day feeling intimidated, inadequate and glad to be alive. The SRX felt
much more friendly than the big bikes I’d ridden.
My only gripe with the ARRA race school is that we didn’t get a break all day. Not until after my last classroom session was I finally able to hurry to Willow’s infamous “House of Charmin.” When I emerged, down to race weight, my Lightweight Novice race was already at pre-grid. Damn!
I ran down to my pit, pulling up my leathers, slapped on my helmet and gloves, and kicked the SRX awake
while everybody else was on the warm-up lap. I headed down pit row to enter the track, pit-crew Jane running after me with my kickstart lever should the bike die (I never did get it to idle right). I had to start at the back of the grid, and was last into Tum One.
Where an amazing thing happened-I started passing people-and finished 10th out of 22 bikes.
Whoa! Tenth. I had a month to think about
it before I could try again. It was a very long month.
Lightweight two, a ded month eighth, on Novice later, and the third race I’m row. number gridThe SRX’s modifications since last time consist of a two-tooth-smaller rear sprocket for hopefully more top speed, an oil change and a fresh Keystone Beer oil-overflow can. It still won’t idle worth a damn. Lightweight Novice racebikes are Singles like mine, plus Yamaha FZR400s and RZ350s, Kawasaki EX500s-even a two-stroke Yamaha TZ250. Thumpers aren’t much for top-end power, but they are hellacious off the line. The starter waves the green flag, my bike jumps past the whole second row, and we are fifth into Tum One. I wouldn’t believe it either, if I hadn’t seen it, but incredibly, my sweetheart SRX goes around the outside of the TZ in the middle of the long horseshoe Turn Two-into fourth-and outbrakes an EX500 into the tight-left Turn Three. We are in third. When will I wake up? Only two FZR400s are in front of us. Pocketa-pocketa-pocketa, says my SRX. The front FZR departs from us on the faster back half of the track, never to be seen again. But as long as I get close to the second FZR, my SRX stays in its draft. The guy riding it keeps looking back to see if we’re still on his butt, and is just as amazed as me, that yes, we are still here. No power to get by, just enough to draft along, please don’t mind us. Third! We finished third.
“I’m gridded on the last row. It’s unbelievably colorful and exciting. I’m more worked op than I’ve ever been in my life just to be here.”
“like a school of shiny minnows in a whirlpool, we all bank at once into the turn-and I’m racing.”
“It’s a Strange thing. I started out ashamed of my little SRX, then the more time spent with it, the more I began to like it.”
Singles being a not-so-competitive (i.e. dangerous) class, I got special dispensation and moved up to the Expert
ranks after doing
two Novice races instead of the usual three. Luckily, 600 Singles is the second race on Sunday, so I don’t have too much time to think about it. Because there aren’t that many entries, we run at the same time as Battle of the Twins. Being a rank amateur, I’m gridded 38th, on the last row. It’s unbelievably colorful and exciting to be at the back of that many loud, revving bikes. I’m more worked up than I’ve ever been in my life just to be here. And then the flag drops and I didn’t know my bike would wheelie that far and I squeeze through a bunch of bikes and heads and knees and elbows down the straight and why’s everybody slowing down? And say, isn’t that the very edge of the track, skitter, skitter in the dust and just barely stay on the pavement through Tum One and then like a school of shiny minnows in a whirlpool we all bank at once into Tum Two-and I’m racing.
I pass a bunch of people, on Twins and Singles, but there are still many more stretched out ahead of us. The problem with starting at the back is that by the time you get to the front, it has become the middle. I have no idea how far ahead the front-running Single is, but I close up to an EX500 dogging the tail of an SRX like mine. The EX wants by, but can’t quite do it. I want by both of them. In top-speed Turn Eight, they pull away; in Nine, I close right up again and get close enough to pick up the draft of both bikes down the front straight.
If I never get to race again, this is the part I’ll remember: My bike usually pulls to 6500 rpm down the straight on its own, but in this draft, the tach says 7500. The EX guy, whose blackleather butt is about two feet ahead of my nose, bobbing along almost perfectly stationary at 120-or-so mph, and the SRX guy ahead of him, must be thinking the same thing I am: “Dang, this drafting stuff really works.” But neither has looked back yet, and neither one knows I’m there.
H the brake, early front to the the SRX EX end guy guy of waits the sits straight, a up fracto tion later and swoops past him on the left with me still in tow. Just as he’s congratulating himself, I pull out of his draft, brake a fraction later and am by both of them in one silent swoop. Take that, suckers. Heh, heh, heh.
Pocketa-pocketa says my SRX on the next lap, around the track again, through Nine like a good major-league curve ball, down the front straight, on the brakes for Tum One, and whoosh, back past me again on the inside go the same EX500 and SRX. Cheating swine!
Back into Two, the EX leads us. But Two is my bike’s favorite part of the track; I pull out to go around them both. Fully banked over in fourth gear, with my head about three inches above the other guy’s cranked-over SRX. Hmm. I never realized how bumpy this tum is, I think, as I watch his SRX’s shocks first, then fork, bobbita-bobbita up and down. Then I’m past him and I notice the EX’s rear tire stepping out a little-and in that tiny loss of traction, I am past him. My SRX, on its skinny little tires, never breaks traction. No “throttle modulation” seems to be necessary, I just yank it open and wait for the piston to come around to the power stroke again.
Well, I could go on for several more pages, but I’ve probably already shaved a few months off my poor mother’s life already. I got third in my first Expert race and took home a keen trophy.
The point is this: You don’t have to be Kevin Schwantz, and you don’t have to spend 10 grand to go roadracing. Another thing that kept me away all those years was fear-that all the other people out there were crazed, crash-happy, win-or-die maniacs. Nothing could be farther from the truth. All in all, this was definitely the most fun thing I’ve ever done on a motorcycle.
I far, the may I’ve bike. have put After to less make than four races it a $1500 habit. into and lots So of practice laps, the Metzelers seem fine, so I won’t need a fat tire-sponsorship deal. The ARRA wants $60 for my first race each weekend and $30 for every additional one. Factor in the gas I’d need to get to the racetrack and back, and well, it ain’t exactly cheap, but it’s not bad either, considering roadracing makes skiing or softball seem pretty mundane.
What I need now, in a big way, is more horsepower. Let’s see: White Bros, lists an Arias 12.5:1 piston for $130, a racing cam for $60. The guys who know say to weld up the crankshaft while you’re at it and throw in a Carrillo connecting rod. Maybe if I get a smooth-bore Mikuni, it’ll even idle. □
“No ‘throttle modulation9 seems to be necessary. I just yank it open and wait for the piston tn cnme around to the power stroke again.99
