After a couple of days off from Mallory (See Part One) and some enjoyable alone time in the garage checking Screamer (my GSX650F) to see if I’d broken anything, I’m off to Cadwell Park for another No Limits Track Day.
Unlike the day at Mallory, the journey starts in glorious sunshine, which is always a good sign. Cadwell Park has its own weather system. On a previous evening session at Cadwell, I decided discretion was the better option than being on track in torrential rain.
Not two miles from a rain-sodden Cadwell was a bright, warm summer’s evening.
My colleague Richard — known around the campfire as Captain Doughnuts — has brought along his latest acquisition: Timmy.
I’m not entirely sure of the full name, but apparently it rhymes with “curd”, which tells you pretty much everything you need to know about Richard’s naming conventions.
Timmy is a racing Honda CB500, which looks considerably more purposeful than it sounds. While my bike is still required to get me home afterwards, Timmy exists largely to lap a race circuit, trying to sound butch and costing Richard money.
In other words, a proper track bike.
The day unfolds as usual. Noise test. Sign-on. Briefing. Then hang around while the fast and middle groups disappear off for their sighting laps and first sessions.
Eventually, the Tanoy crackles into life. “Attention paddock…”
Two laps behind the instructor, and then it’s time to see whether I can remember how to ride Cadwell Park.
It turns out that remembering the circuit and actually riding it properly are two entirely different things.
The Morning
My target for the morning is Copse, the uphill left-hand bend after the start-finish straight.
I’m convinced I can carry more speed through there, which should give me a better entry into Charlie’s and, ultimately, a better run onto the Park Straight.
It sounds very logical when I explain it like that, yet my first flying lap suggests otherwise. I’m too tight on the left. Not catastrophically wrong, but sufficiently wrong to compromise everything that follows.
I exit Copse knowing I’ve left speed on the table, which means I’m not getting the entry into Charlie’s that I want, and I’m slower all the way along the Park Straight.
However, despite cocking up the first real try, I did notice a small patch of resurfaced tarmac, almost perfectly positioned as a marker for the run into Copse.
It might be completely the wrong thing to aim for, but it looks right to me. Next lap, I aim for the patch, and everything seems to work out.
It feels faster, the line feels as if it makes more sense, and the exit towards Charlie’s feels much cleaner.
It’s a tiny thing, but this is what I enjoy about track days.
You can spend an entire day trying to become faster, and sometimes the improvement comes from something as simple as noticing a slightly different bit of tarmac.
Knock-on Effect
I spend the morning enjoying my newfound speed into Copse, and notice that I’m not making full use of the improvement.
As the turn-in point into Charlie’s appears, I’m downshifting to keep the revs up.
The 650F has a tractable power curve, but it gets properly frisky north of 7,000 RPM. To feel like I’m not wasting time waiting for the RPM to build on the straight, I downshift to get the drive through Charlie’s, which means that although I’m faster on the way into Copse, I’m not carrying enough momentum through the corner.
My theory remains the same, but putting it into practice is slightly more complicated.
Mostly because my brain keeps pointing out that the grass is very close and suggesting that perhaps we don’t need to investigate it personally.
But eventually I get it right. Properly right.
Sixth
I carry enough speed through Copse, get the line into Charlie’s, and the bike drives cleanly onto the Park Straight.
For the briefest of moments, I need sixth at the end of the Park Straight. I don’t care that it lasts approximately two seconds. I’ll take the win, even if I only managed it once.
There is something deeply satisfying about getting a corner right that you’ve been working on all morning. The stopwatch might not have noticed. Nobody in the grandstand is standing up and applauding. No team manager is waiting in the pit lane with a congratulatory handshake.
But it made me smile, and ultimately, that’s why I’m here.
I’m not going to be the fastest person around Cadwell Park. Someone will always be braking later, carrying more speed, and disappearing into the distance while I contemplate whether Marshal’s iron their flags when I should be concentrating on going faster.
The Simple Joy
And, for me, that is the real joy of a track day.
You’re riding a motorcycle as hard as you feel comfortable riding it, learning something every lap and occasionally getting it right.
Then you get back to the paddock, take your helmet off and discover that you’re grinning like an idiot.
Which, after two days of track riding, is probably the most important measurement of all.
Although Richard – who somehow maintains the physique of a well-toned racing snake – will no doubt tell you that the correct measurement is how many doughnuts you can eat before the next session.
The Afternoon
Now it is time to work on Barn Corner. To maximise the track between the Hairpin and the turn into Barn, I’m using 2nd gear. Opening the throttle at Barn corner, still in second, is a jolt. It doesn’t feel smooth, and so I’m not getting on the throttle soon enough or hard enough.
Roger – he who started all of this and now doesn’t have a track bike – suggests taking 3rd gear before I tip into Barn. This smooths out the throttle response and lets me get it to the stop sooner, extracting the maximum advantage from the downhill run onto the start-finish straight.
It’s another small improvement that no one but me will notice, but in that moment everything is right with the world.
Bottom Line
For an 18-year-old 650, Screamer is a lot of fun. Yes, it is down on horsepower compared to the litre bikes that are also in the green group, but raw power isn’t the answer.
Richard’s CB500 develops 48hp, and Screamer made 80hp when it left the factory. It might have lost a little power over the years, but it runs sweetly.
Richard is 12 seconds a lap faster than me around Cadwell. Even though I sometimes catch and very occasionally overtake the litre bikes in the twisty parts, I’ve still got a lot of time to find in my riding.
Power is great on the straights, but it’s only part of the story; I need to work on my lines and change my body position more before I grind all the way through the foot pegs.
Completing my track day doubleheader with the time-honoured ritual of shopping for bike parts, which I’m sure will “make me go faster”, I spot the Puig adjustable footrests on the Pyramid Moto website.
Anyone want to guess what I’m doing on the next rainy day?
