Track days come in many different forms. Some leave you to your own devices. Some focus on instruction, while others are events in themselves, built around a shared love of motorcycles of all types and ages.
Cadwell Moto, which happens every year towards the end of September, is definitely in the latter group: a wonderful celebration of motorcycling, supported by people from all over Europe. It combines the chance to indulge in a spot of motorcycle-based lunacy with an atmosphere that is about as laid-back as a Rastafarian in a Dutch Café.
Cadwell Moto is organised by Classic Bike Track Days, and it’s worth highlighting what makes their events a little different from the usual track-day experience. There is a genuine appreciation of motorcycles, a wonderfully unpretentious atmosphere, and a sense that everyone is there for the same reason: to celebrate motorcycling.
The emphasis is on ensuring that no one thinks they are auditioning for a place in the British Superbike Championship. It’s about getting out on track, enjoying the machinery, learning something along the way and having a good natter afterwards.
That doesn’t mean the riding is sedate, far from it. Seeing classic machinery ridden enthusiastically around Cadwell Park reminds you that you don’t need the latest electronic wizardry, a six-figure racing budget, or a motorcycle with enough horsepower to rearrange the landscape to have a thoroughly good time.
One chap was out there on his Yamaha FS1-E … Yes, a Fizzy. The 50cc single-cylinder, two-stroke moped from the late seventies. Those on track with him were ensuring he could do his thing, while he always left “the door wide open” for anyone wanting to pass him.
Professional Help
A little instruction goes a long way. I discovered this at Andalucia earlier this year. Classic Bike Track Days had arranged a collection of very knowledgeable instructors to be available in return for a £10 donation to Two Wheels for Life, the motorcycle charity that supports life-saving healthcare programmes in some of the world’s most remote communities.
The instruction proved genuinely useful once again. Now that I was familiar with the Track Day format, I was in danger of assuming that, to progress, all I needed to do was more laps. Keep turning up, keep riding, and the lap times will reduce.
Except it doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes you simply become very familiar with the same mistakes.
Having someone watch what you’re doing, spot where you’re losing time, and offer practical advice is a more efficient way to improve. A small adjustment here, a little more confidence there, and suddenly you’re carrying a bit more speed through a corner or getting back on the throttle a fraction earlier.
None of it is revolutionary. There isn’t a secret technique whispered only to those who know the weird handshake. Just having someone who knows what they are doing and can instruct, which is an art in itself, explain what you’re doing, and show you how to improve makes a surprising difference.
As a result, I found a little more time around Cadwell. Not enough to start worrying the timing officials, but enough to make the day feel like progress rather than an exercise in repeatedly confirming my existing limitations.
And that, of course, brings us to the usual suspects.
The Chasing Game
Roger has finally acquired another track bike, and I suspect that as this is an orange GSX650F, he is out to make a point. Not quite sure what it is called yet. The Donald, because it is orange, is a popular choice, but Ginger, to go with Timmy and Screamer, is also in the running.
What I think is going on is that after all of my waffling about track days, Roger is determined to remain a moving target I’m chasing, but at least if he is on the same bike, I can’t hide behind him having more power.
Richard, on the other hand, presents a rather different problem.
He’s still aboard Timmy, his Honda CB500, a machine with around 48 horsepower, and he’s still faster than me. By a rather embarrassing margin, too. We’re talking about someone who can apparently find around 10 seconds a lap over my efforts, despite having considerably less power.
It was previously 12 seconds, but I found a couple of seconds down the back of the sofa.
I will be spending the winter taking the Suzuki apart, replacing, tweaking and updating half the components, and Richard will still have time to put the kettle on while he waits for me to arrive.
Nonetheless, there is sunshine in everything, and being reminded that horsepower is only one part of the equation stops me from doing stupid things – like buying another bike – until I can ride the wheels off the one I have.
Apologies To The RD400
However, there is one moment from Cadwell Moto that I must discuss. A combination of newly discovered speed and overheating brakes led to a moment of poor judgement at the chicane.
I came up the inside of another rider, braked at the usual spot, and successfully overshot the turn-in point.
The bike I was up the inside of was – I think – a Yamaha RD400. However, I was concentrating rather more on the rapidly approaching consequences of my own actions than on identifying the precise model.
To be absolutely clear, this was entirely my fault.
Nothing happened other than me running on, and I don’t think there was any real danger involved, but that doesn’t make it any less rude. The other rider was entitled to expect me to get round the corner rather than doing a fly-by up his inside as he looked at the apex.
The irony is that I’d spent the previous session getting excellent instruction on how to ride better, only to show there was still plenty of scope to improve at managing that newfound speed.
So, if you’re the rider on the RD400, my apologies. You were minding your own business, enjoying your day, and I managed to turn a perfectly ordinary corner into an unnecessary demonstration of how not to do things.
I’ll try to remember that moment the next time I’m feeling particularly pleased with myself.
Winter Is Coming
And so is the credit card bill.
With the last track day of the year behind me, attention is inevitably turning towards the garage.
I’ve been shopping for bike parts, which is usually the first sign that a perfectly serviceable motorcycle is about to become the subject of entirely questionable expenditure.
The GSX650F has been a delight this year, but there are improvements to be made, and the brakes are very much on the agenda.
An alternative master cylinder is high on the list. The standard braking system, even with braided lines, decent pads, and high-temperature fluid, has struggled to deliver the performance I’d like when things get properly hot on track.
The lever travels further as the sessions progress but always has pressure, but the rate at which the bike sheds speed isn’t always as reassuring as it could be. That suggests there’s more to investigate than simply swapping one component and hoping for the best.
A different master cylinder may help, but the aim is to understand the system as a whole rather than throw expensive parts at it and cross my fingers. There are discs, pads, fluid and several other possibilities to consider.
Of course, the danger with this sort of investigation is that every answer produces three more questions, each of which seems to require another purchase. Before long, a simple winter service becomes a full-scale engineering project, accompanied by a growing collection of cardboard boxes and the occasional muttered question about where all the money has gone.
A Winter Of Discontent?
Not a chance. New header pipes are on the way from Delkevic, and yes, I paid for them. Fluids are arriving. Discs and other assorted bits of motorcycle paraphernalia are making their way towards the house, where they will doubtless be greeted with considerably less enthusiasm by the financial controller.
The garage is about to become a place of experimentation, investigation and the occasional moment of profound regret when a perfectly ordinary bolt refuses to move.
There will be spanners, BDX Wonderfluid, tea, and quite possibly a few words that aren’t suitable for publication.
But that’s the beauty of it. There’s always something to improve, another second to find, another corner to get right and another excuse to spend time in the garage.
And if all goes to plan, next year Screamer will have a little more bite, a little more stopping power and perhaps a little more chance of keeping Roger and Richard in sight.
