Hours of Oschersleben
HOURS OF OSCHERSLEBEN
RACE WATCH
Team CW goes to Germany for a test of endurance
MARK CERNICKY
AS I POWER-SLID OUT OF A THIRD-GEAR right-hander in the rain-drenched practice, my heavily weighted outside boot slipped off the KTM’s left footpeg. In that instant, I highsided straight onto my head.
After I came to a stop, I ran a brief systems check before jumping up and running for the bike. What day is it? Friday. Check. Where am I? Motorsport Arena Oschersleben in eastern Germany. Check. Why am I here? To race a KTM RC8 in the fourth round of the FIM Endurance World Championship. Check.
My MasterBike experience (“Masterbike XI,”
September, 2008) brought me here. At Circuito Albacete in southeastern Spain,
I had met KTM’s press manager Thomas Kuttruff, who told me to stay in touch. I happened to be staring into a glass of carrot juice when it hit me (the color, not the glass). I e-mailed Kuttruff, proposing a ride in the Suzuka 8 Hours. His nearly instantaneous response read, “Yes, not in Japan, in Germany. Buy your ticket to Hannover, send me your details and I’ll take care of the rest.”
For 10 years, the race had been a 24-hour event, run one week after the better-known Japanese round of the series. Last year, for the first time since the creation of the race in 1998, the length was cut to eight hours to better fit within the new German “Speedweek.”
As I rode back to the pits in the crash truck, the words of teammate Pauli Pekkanen came to me: “On the third lap, you should be able to drag your knee.”
I, of course, crashed on the second lap. Stefan Nebel, a three-time German national champion (twice in Superbike, once in Supersport) and my other teammate, said, “At least it wasn’t night, when it’s hard to find the bike. Or you, for that matter.”
The three of us had qualified the day before, but my teammates chose to sit out the rain, which makes this track notoriously slippery. I had to learn for myself. Back at the garage, no one was terribly concerned with my crash. “It’s only practice,” everyone said.
Konrad Schittko, himself a SuperDuke Cup racer, owns the KTM dealership that prepared our bike. The factory-built Supersport-spec 1148cc RC8 engine (said to make close to 170 crank horsepower), Akrapovic exhaust, quick-change wheels and modified gas tank were put together along with updated suspension that will be stock on 2009 RC8s.
Practice showed the advantage of having three riders giving setup input, as our suspension issues were quickly resolved in our shared Wednesday practice. We tested a range of compounds in both slicks and in Conti’s all-weather Attack Supersport tire. A soft-sidewall, soft-tread Attack, developed for the Yamaha YZF-R6, gave better feel for front grip than the slick, but we knew it wouldn’t last through our 35-lap stints as well as the medium compound. So Conti, based nearby in Hannover, decided to custom-build us fronts combining the soft sidewall and medium compound. They’d be ready Friday.
In the Thursday morning practice before individual qualifying, Nebel used a soft Conti Attack front and medium slick rear to go 1:32.8-good for 26th out of 54 entries and third in the Open class right behind the factory BMW HP2’s time of 1:32.2.1 got down to 1:34.4 on used softs but the front of the bike was tying itself in knots. So for the last 20 minutes, I went back out on mediums to get more valuable track knowledge, putting in a string of 1:33.5s.
Saturday morning’s team meeting laid out communications among riders, mechanics and sign personnel. As Team Schittko was running two bikes, it was essential that we avoid pitting together. And there was plenty to keep in mind-location of the slip roads, signals to watch for and their place on the track, safety-car procedures and pit-lane speed limit. We had to plan how long to stay out on the rear slick if rain began to fall, and how to maintain our pace during the night stint.
On the day of the race, we scrubbed tires in morning practice and made sure the repaired RC8 was in running order.
A new clutch master cylinder and footpeg assembly were adjusted. Then came the long wait until the 3 p.m. start.
Nebel was our veteran, having run this race last year-as well as Bol d’Or,
Le Mans and Suzuka. At the flag, he made the Le Mans trot across the track to a safe but unspectacular start and was soon into the low 1:33s. But our Open-class rivals were clicking off high :32s.
His 50 minutes went by fast.
Ready and waiting, I was too focused to be nervous despite the packed grandstand. Nebel was in, gassed up, no tires and I was out of there in seconds, chafing at the 36-mph pit-lane speed limit while all I could think of was getting into my rhythm from the first tum. The weight of a full fuel load put extra attention on front tire grip, but I was soon up to speed and lapping in the low 1:35s.
Seven laps into my stint, the bike was sliding and felt like the rear tire had lost pressure, which was also affecting stability. Added to that, the on-board timer and lap counter weren’t working, so I had to split my concentration between reading the board (far down pit lane) and braking for Tum 1.
I slowed my pace a bit and kept it together until passing off to Pekkanen.
With new tires and full fuel, the Finn held a consistent pace of high :34s, and then the pit stops came fast. Nebel, going out again, dropped straight into low :33s, with an occasional high :32. As we crowded around the monitor to watch his progress, I inwardly said, “Man, that guy’s good.” I knew firsthand how hard he was riding.
Near the end of Nebel’s stint, his times slowed a bit. As he rolled into the pit box, the bike stalled, and we saw that the trick, aftermarket clutch lever was missing. The five minutes it took to find and fit a new lever seemed like forever, but the RC8 then rumbled to life again.
I was on the gas after passing the end of the pit speed zone, ready to race back some of the positions we’d lost, but I almost smashed into the armco bordering the pit exit road when the brake lever came back to the bar. During the wheel change and clutch-lever panic, no one had pumped up the brakes! But now I had new tires and “Armco Fear” got my blood up. That was my best stint: 30 nearly identical 1:34.2s. It was over too soon.
I was pumped when I came in for the hand-off and jumped off yelling, “Tires are still good.” But even after refueling, the RC8 was still sitting on the stands. Then Team Schittko was backing the RC8 into our garage. Markus ran for a stock front brake lever, and 12 minutes later, Pekkanen rolled down pit lane.
What the...!?
Crew member Stephan Schnider explained that the lever wasn’t fully returning, so instead of letting the brakes drag and eventually fade (or put itself on hard as hot fluid expanded against a closed return port), they opted to change it. Well down the running order as night began to fall, we were working our way back up from 15th in class. Again, Pekkanen’s laps were very consistent-until seven minutes from the end of his session. Once again, the damn clutch lever had fallen off! This time, however, it was replaced by the time the tires were changed.
Though disheartened, we were still running and had one more go each. Like a machine, Nebel was down to his target times, which held steady as day turned to night. When he came in to hand off to me, he was 10th. Knowing what had to be done, I powered into the darkness despite our weak stock headlight.
Full sensory alert was required to find reality in a blackness constantly modified by drifting campfire smoke and the headlights of pitbikes. Screws tightened in my brain as I scanned for possible crashed bikes or riders among splashes of illumination from the rockconcert laser lightshow staged nearby. When my focus threatened to soften, our team motto—Anschlag! (Attack!)—reminded me that our crew was awaiting this RC8 for Pekkanen’s final leg and the finish of the 8 Hours. Now it was almost impossible to see anything, much less the pit-in signal, but I did see the clock in the orange instrument panel. I pushed past my allotted time and on that lap swung nearer the pit board. Through the bug guts and glare on my shield, I saw “000”our sign for “Come in immediately!”
Now fifth in class, two laps down on fourth place and two laps ahead of a Ducati 1098 in sixth, it was up to Pekkanen to bring it home. There would be no more position changes.
Fireworks signaled the end of the 8 Hours of Oschersleben at 11 p.m. and the beginning of the all-night party for which the German fans are famous.
Hey, Thomas, stay in touch. I was just getting comfortable... □
