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G-needs
filled on the twisties On Wednesday, the Big Brown Truck brought the tires. Thursday the new Penske 8981 remote reservoir shock showed up. I'd had the new EBC HH pucks sittinÇ on the workbench for a week or so. It was time. I spooned the sticky new 010s on front and rear, the shock install went with only a minor snag or two. And the new pads slotted in to complement the Goodridge lines on the front. Orvis came by to help set the sag. I could already tell that the new shock would do for the rear what the emulators and .90 kg/mm springs did for the front. Now all I needed was a couple hundred miles to bed the new pads and scrub the mold release off the tires. It's funny. I retired from roadracing in '97. After 26 years of racing, I had a deal with Anna to quit. I still missed it. An occasional track day is fun, but they're expensive, so few and far between. Now I get my G-needs filled on the twisties. It's not the same as racing, but it feels so good. There are rules, ya know. Self made. Self enforced. Touch the brakes and you loose a lap. Cross the centerline, DNF. I always ride within my rules. Found lots of errands to run on Friday and after the breakfast meet Saturday morning, the tires didn't have any shiny left and the brakes didn't stink any more. I headed down to Midlothian to take care of a little mail server problem. M3 had told me earlier in the week that 157 between Mansfield and Venus was resurfaced a while back and now was well cured and ready to rail. A scouting trip North to South confirmed it. And reduced the chicken strips to less than a quarter inch. After beating the mail server into submission, I headed West on 67 to Venus then turned North on 157. Mid afternoon and the locals had mostly got where they were goin'. As each 30 MPH posted curve appeared, I upped the ante. 55. 60. 65. The soft swoosh of boot toes on pavement sung background to the adrenalin's siren song. No more than 75 or 80 between corners. Heck, anybody can twist the loud handle. Drop a gear or two, using the slight unsettling to lighten the rear as I turn in. The front's stuck like fly paper. Might need just a touch more compression dampening in the rear. Or maybe a tad less rebound. Have too look at the tire when I stop. Right hander comminÇ up. Drop a gear. Two. Bend it in. Now the hero blobs are kissing the grippy asphalt. That's as hard as I'm gonna run on public roads. Nine tenths is enough. There's a station wagon commin' the other way. Shat! They early apexed! They're in my laeee 'BOOF' Bob
GACK#3 AMA #162726 LPR #54 / http://www.panthercity.net SEPTEMBER
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