Motogp 2015 Season . . . Five Manufacturers! W/spoilers

[tbzep]

Actually, Doohan's best quote is:

“I think 2015 has been fantastic,” he said. “It was a great season for the sport as a whole. I think some people are taking a lot of it too far between Marquez and Rossi. At the end of the day it is sport. I think the media has beat up a lot more of it than was necessary. But in the heat of the moment a lot people say things and do things but it is just racing.”

Doohan is right. I think it's time to let this thread die and move on to the 2016 thread!

BTW, one could make a decent argument that Doohan is the GOAT. He didn't benefit from 80cc, 125cc, 250cc, or 600cc titles like all the current MotoGP champs have to pad their "world championship" stats. He went straight from Superbike to the premier class of 500cc. If he had spent his first 5 seasons in lower classes, he just might already have 10 titles! 9,3,2,2,4,1,1,1,1,1 are his 500cc ranks. Not bad! I wish his 1999 injury hadn't shortened his career or there may have been a few more #1's on that list. (This might be a topic for another racing thread.)

.

[Auspanglish]

right, where is the ride report and PICTURES??????????????????????

Warning: Off Topic.

Well I covered well over 1000 km of curves... very few sections of slab... so I can't complain.

I left nice and early (10 o´clock) in the morning after quickly packing a light change of clothes and my emergency medical kit (Bag valve mask, Guedell and laryngeal airways, IV catheter + Saline drip (various), Anti-haemorrhage (Bandages and Tournique) and Immobilization kits (neckbrace), Medication (IV, IM, Oral, Respiratory and Topical), Pulse oximeter, Esfignomanometer, Blood-glucose meter, Penlight, Kocher clamps, Safety scissors, Suture kits, Antiseptic solution, Local Anaesthetic, Syringes and Needles various. I just need a SAED to complete the kit).

The first stop was at Wookie's place (known as the Monster Garage) close to Cheste racetrack where this distant relative to Chewbaca was waiting for me with the toolbox (read "beer fridge") well stocked. The other wingman (coming from Granada, another 2 hours further away than my hometown of Murcia which is already 2.5 hours away), whose nickname in Spanish would come to mean "Slacker" was supposed to have arrived the day before... but living up to his namesake, was still an hour away. Time to have a beer, get up to date on each others' lives, play with the dog, adjust some nuts and bolts, have another beer... then when Slacker shows up, have another beer, get up to date on each others' lives, play with the dog, adjust some nuts and bolts...

Lunch was meant to be at Cheste town or at the MC Fair. Due to the delays incurred from sheer Andalucian laziness, bocadillos had been ordered and were consumed in situ at the Monster Garage. I would be saved the beheading at the hands of Marquez fans for donning a Rossi helmet.

Time to hit the frog and toad.

Rendezvous with a 4th rider at a roundabout 20 km away. Stopped at side of road. Spanish punctuality allows for a cigarrette or two, comments on whose bike is the ugliest... and bets on what state the 4th rider's bike (2005 CBR1000RR) will be in as he had gone down (on the asphalt) at Cheste Racetrack the week before, due to the lead rider's track bike (2005 GSXR1000RR) springing an oil leak (Oh the shame of it). His clutch cover was grazed and, as rumours had it, "possibly" now also leaking oil.

4th rider (Peleja) arrives. Right boot is slick and shiny with oil. Roadside pitstop. Tools out and fairing removed. Seems to be coming from a bolt hole. Hi-temp and oil resistant silicone applied... to no avail, oil still exiting at high RPMs. Peleja wants to continue albeit with caution. My two cents: “Fortune does not actually favour the brave”. The jury was clear on this one: "lock him up and throw away the key". A replacement bike was available (4th gen VFR750). Spin rear wheel in the dirt at roadside to try to remove excess oil and pussyfoot it back to the Monster Garage.

Finally underway. Making up time by defying the laws of physics (amongst others). Curves to put a bellydancer to shame. Arrived "alive" after dark with ample time for some cold fermented barley and general male-cow-number-two-ing before dinner. We had the hotel and restaurant all to ourselves (just as well for the others, who weren’t there). Dinner was followed by G&Ts and more in-depth and profound male-cow-number-two-ing. I say “alive” as I had a serious heart-in-mouth moment when, just 2 kilometres from our destination, my low-beams died on me on entering a rather sharp corner with a rather large drop off. I had thought I noticed the headlights flicker a few times in the previous quarter of an hour leading up to that moment but was unable to reproduce the fault by banging on possibly related parts like the handlebar switches and so-forth and put it down to my imagination. I don’t know how I made the corner. Instinct worked for me. I had Slacker put his hi-beams on and ride behind me and I closely followed another rider who had joined us at that moment; Dr Spoc. T’was an odd sensation riding at night using the lights of two other bikes as you have to synchronize a short delay in leaning the bike in and out of corners... it was only a couple of kays anyway. I had hi-beams but if any vehicles were to come the other way I might cause them to crash by blinding them and wasn’t sure whether they might be susceptible to failure also.

Boy did that beer taste good!!

Noteworthy note: Two female riders attending the MC meet. Olé for “them thar” women motorcycle riders!!

Next day up at sparrow fart, breakfasted on coffee, serrano ham and other cold salami style meats, toast, coffee, O.J., donuts, coffee, and anti-inflammatories.

The following gruesome route was spiced with an hour of thick fog at the onset. This is somewhat akin to flying by instruments (done that in a helicopter... as a passenger), but without any useful instruments. Visor fogged up, water leaking in the top of the visor, I had better vision with the visor up and sunglasses on. Scary galore even when advancing at a snail's pace. Literally could not see more than a few meters ahead. Was this to be the “No Can See” bike trip? Finally the fog lifted and curves could be carved... with care in the shadowed lee of the mountains where the road was still visibly damp. Spain has some of the most amazing mountainous motorcycling roads and scenery.

Makes it all worthwhile.

Members from other extremes of Spain join the mob at previously agreed waypoints. Overall well over 50 people attended with different degrees of participation; some just part of the route, others the entire weekend, others somewhere in between. New members met. Old acquaintances reacquainted. This meant more delays, as alligning space and time over an entire country can be tricky. The group splits to gain time. Wrong way taken by my group. U-turn made around an ominous group of vacationers at a rustic cabin who happened to be wearing, you would never have guessed it: Ewok costumes!! (Don't ask, I don't have photographic evidence).

I decided to be sweep.

The bike in front of the bike in front of mine decided to take it easy. I would later discover the rider was suffering from exhaustion. Not accustomed to “such long and winding roads after the night before” he had hit his physio-psychological wall. No worries, I’m in no hurry. After returning to the latest major crossroads I recall someone waiting at to make sure no-one got waylaid on the outward journey, I was surprised there was no-one waiting there to indicate the route we should have taken earlier... or at any of the other 3 or 4 junctions in between.

Left behind.

Whoever had been in front of the “exhausted” member had failed to make sure whoever was behind him was aware of the pack turning at a given intersection. He had not noticed his fellow rider dropping behind. The main group had been out of our sight for some time.

Brilliant.

Get out the smart phone and start calling those I know have intercoms in their helmets. No mobile phone coverage. Try looking up Google Maps; idem. Try looking up the forum for the route map; idem.... technology when you need it. I had recently organized to purchase a dedicated GPS unit (Tomtom) off one of the guys who was part of the main group but we HADN'T done the handing over of our respective parts of the deal yet.

As they say in Spain: “Asking, you will get to Rome”. So as soon as we were able to remember one of the names of the towns along the route, we found some human beings who were collecting wild mushrooms (we were in dense forest in the middle of nowhere) and asked the way to “Pollatos” (which sounds suspiciously like something censurable on this forum). They put us on track.

We had to do Lagunaseca to get lunch.

The latter, was in an isolated mountain town (not the former) where the food was real, the price was cheap and the welcome was warm, despite the cold.

The return journey was equally gruesome (i.e. callouses on your cheeks from constantly carving curves) and one man down... VTR1000... had come down from Barcelona... just for the day!! Lost the front in a fast left hander after steep downhill run (blame placed on loose gravel)... I was some fifteen bikes behind... rode straight up to the scene past all the parked bikes... ready for the worst... couldn't see for the group of people... but we were hauling a good pace at this stage... finally in situ I find the rider about to help try to pull the bike up out of the ditch... leave that, come here, quick check over, nothing broken, nothing sprained, nothing bleeding... leave the bike... don't make any extenuating physical efforts until the adrenalin wears off (masks the pain of possibly torn ligaments and such and lifting a heavy bike will only make injuries worse)... there are 30 odd bikers here to do the lifting... rider okayed, bike checked over... just bent bits and broken mirrors... gravel cleaned out, gear lever straightened, bike starts first pop... rider advised to spend night in hotel... he decides he will head home that day (we can be a stubborn breed)... maybe the better decision as he would sure be stiff and sore tomorrow. We had a good portion of the return leg to the hotel to see how he and the bike felt. Pace it out now. He made it home ok, battered and bruised, but in one piece. Those Kevlar jeans actually work quite well much to my relief, not that I would recommend them.

There was to be another incident on the way back to the hotel. Besides the group getting split up (again), at dusk I noticed the bike behind me’s lights were quite dim. I knew the bike and the rider well. 2002 silver 6th gen. I made some gestures to the rider. Before we were in complete darkness I put my hazard lights on and pulled off. He followed suite. The lights weren’t dim, they were off!! Only the parking lights were on. The 2002 model comes with an on-off switch for the headlights. Later models have permanent headlights with a relay to cut the power to the lights while the starter motor is turning the engine over. Tried the switch, no reaction. Technical thumps applied to the related handlebar switch assemblies gave no results, neither did twiddling cables. Fuses checked out OK. Perhaps my bike’s problem was contagious. But wait, I had high-beams (and I had simply switched the hi-beam connectors over to the low beams and turned the hi-beam switch to On, in order to have legal low-beams on during the day)... and he had neither hi nor low-beams. So no, contagiousness could be discarded. Right?

Suddenly he had lights again. Lets get going and you stick to my rear. The one-eyed leading the blind. I had somehow ended up separated from the main group... again. I could have sworn several bikes stopped with us but a couple of km onward I could no longer pick them up in my mirrors. I thought the main group had also headed on with no-one waiting at the next main turn but lo and behold there’s a bike waiting for us at an on-ramp (they had decided to take the slab since night had fallen ahead of schedule). I file in behind the sentinel bike and concentrate so hard on making sure not to lose my headlightless mc buddy behind me that I don’t notice the sentinel rider in front of me advancing at great speed and file in behind another bike who is not from our group. After a while I start to think that I don’t recognize the bike in front of me. Over the last couple of years, many of our members have moved on from the VFR to “asphaltic trail bikes” such as the Triumph Tiger and BMW GS adenvture bikes, there are even a couple of KTMs in the pack. The bike in front of me was of this ilk, but I sidled up to get a better look and realized it wasn’t one of our mob. So I dropped back in behind, surely much to his surprise (he stuck a leg out to wave me by), and to that of my blind wingman even moreso (I could hear him cursing my ancestors through the helmet and wind noise).

At this stage I’m starting to define the chain of events as a major f$%& up!! Yet, seeing as I’m an international bright young thing... well, maybe not young but not old either... I get my head together and start to concentrate on the roadsigns and indications... I get off the slab at what I figure is a convenient off ramp and... dib dib dib... dob dob dob... feckin’ boy scout ‘ere what!! There they all are waiting for us and ready with the smart remarks and ribbing jokes I was well and truly expecting. Water off a duck’s back.

Group heads off and my wingman goes blind again. We stop. The rest don’t... Call made, intercoms are handy... when you’ve got cell-phone coverage... “We’ll see you all there, we’re limping back guide dog style”. Stop at gas station to get some WD-40... Could make all the difference for tomorrow’s return journey to our respective homes. Head off again... his lights come on... and then, two klicks from the hotel... his lights go out... I pull over... he made the corner... bloody 6th gen wiring gremlins!!!!

I still don’t know what’s wrong with mine. Gone over it several times already. His was the famous big blue connector on the LHS of the bike. He opted for tow truck home. I’m still using the hi-beam connectors in my low beam sockets. I’m changing the name of the meet from Biodramina to No-Can-See.

Next day repeat breakfast script.

Stop at one of our members’ place to watch the races. Crossing our fingers no-one would go down in the oil slicks Wookie and Peleja left on the track the weekend before. Congratulations JL. I still think Rossi reaped what he sowed. Then back to the Monster Garage to get some kip. Monday, route back home, showing Slacker the least straight roads from there to my joint (two hours of mountain passes and non-stop curves)... after that I figure he slabbed it... or he wouldn’t be Slacker.

[Switchblade]

What a trip ! ^^^^

[Dutchy]

A right rivitting read!!!

Gracias!

[Rush2112]

Nice Adventure!!!

Nerve wracking while your having it... but, it makes a GREAT story!

[V4 Rosso]

Excellent trip report

[The Phantom]

Like they said, thanks for that :) Some good crash-scene medical advice too, I will remember what you said.

[Switchblade]

You need to write a book .