Ever since the last top end run at Saldanha Beetlejuice has been planning
his revenge against The Bastard FZR From Hell (or F’ing Ell as he now calls
it). He was seen searching the intarnet for terms like “NOS”, “power to the
people” and “Submissive asian twins”. Obviously in an effort to get power to
the unsubmissive Asian twin he bought in the form of a TL - such was the
depths of his dispair. Don’t know exactly what he came up with but he was
last seen with red eyes buying a box of CD-R’s at Macro.
We know that for weeks he has been preparing the TL telling everyone
that it was only in the performance shop with starting problems but we
know…. We had also heard mutterings about “pushing that Bastard FZR into
the Mielie fields” and diesel in the FZR’s tank etc. I think he was
un-quietly confident that he found the extra km/h’s needed.
So it was with some excitement and anticipation that we left Cape Town on
friday afternoon.
We were going to ride up on friday afternoon and spend the evening around
the fire with a beer or two and then an early night so that we would be
ready for a great day of racing. After meeting Beetlejuice, Henesia and
Robin at N1 City we went looking for Tick Tock’s house. There were the usual
confusion about turnoffs and meeting times - then we rode halfway to
Stellenbosch as the turn-off to Bobby’s house only existed in BeetleJuices
mind. When we finally got to Lord Gluttonberry’s castle we tranfered luggage
and Bobby and Rina bravely said goodbye to their new little one.
Bobby was going to lead us out of the urban maze he lives in but obviously
had decided that we would benefit from his leadership all the way to
Saldanha as he seemed to go faster and faster every time we caught up.
Beetlejuice and myself grinned at each other and let him trawl for cops out
front while we satisfied ourselves by slowing down and then practicing
accelerating to 240 or so before catching up and having to slow down again
to prevent being trapped into trawling.
Maybe the bikes reappearing in his
mirrors every few minutes spurred Bobby on to greater speeds but we must
have averaged about 200km/hr for most of the way. Beetlejuice last filled up
at Somerset West and slowed down, probably looking for a town with a petrol
station and then peeled off
about halfway to fill up on fuel. Leaving him to ride the rest of the way
alone. He did catch up with the wimmin in the cars though and was just in
time to give a helping hand when Robin started protesting against being
trapped in the child seat for an hour. A quick hug from daddy and a promise
that she could sit on mom’s lap for the rest of the way and all was well
again as Gill took over the controls of the Tazz.
After fortunately spotting the speed
trap just outside Saldanha we stopped at the One Stop Wimpy for coffee.
BeetleJuice pulled in after our first cuppa and soon after that the wimmen
arrived.
After regrouping with the ladies and a leisurely coffee or two we went in
search of our overnight accomodation. This went rather smooth by IUB
standards as we only rode around for half an hour and had to make 10
telephone calls.
Bobby had managed to book us into the
only resort in Saldanha with a huge “No Dogs and Motorcycles” sign on it’s
front
gate. We exchanged nervous glances and started reminding eachother of “That
time at …” when we tore down the caravan park and set fire to the building
for not allowing bikes - all within earshot of the owner, naturally. We were
eventually allowed in after paying a huge deposit and
promising to behave like people while we were in the camp. Bobby was
standing behind a very nervous old lady who was terrified that the bikers
had arrived and thought there was going to be very little left of the resort
or her honour by the following morning. He overheard her worried questions
to the owner and being a true biker softly growled behind her ear and left.
We wondered whether she was more worried about not losing her honour as she
gave a little giggle as Tick Tock left.
After unpacking and sorting out the sleeping arrangements, BeetlejUice and
myself were told that we will be sharing beds, in the lounge as there were
only two bedrooms. Needless to say this didn’t go down well. I think we both
would have gladly moved into the garage to sleep with our bikes but two
burly bikers sharing beds just didn’t seem right, even if the wimmin made it
sound as if we would be chivalrous to comply. So, that settled without
bloodshed, we headed off to the town centre to look for food and were elated
when the sharp eyed Tick Tock spotted a bottle store still open at 7pm. We
stocked up on
bottled chicken and after cracking open a few we resumed our search for food
in a much better frame of mind. Robin, being a true biker’s daughter
insisted on her fair share of grootmenscooldrank (Adults Cooldrink) while
sitting on BeetleJuices lap and
soon we were back in camp with booze, headache tablets, meat and wood. Robin
slept like a log than night.
Tick Tock was the designated braaier and proceeded to entertain us by
picking up hot bricks out of the fire and
then educating poor little Robin with more profaneties than even Beetlejuice
could have come up with. As profaneties wrent the air a church choir started
up in the hall opposite and we considered complaining to the owner about the
noise. (Besides it seemed to have a sobering effect on Tick Tock who thought
his final hour had come and was ruining all our entertainment.) The rest of
the night Tick Tock was seen walking around holding an ice brick and cast
votes on renaming him after that famous perfume “you’re the fire” by Hardly.
He proudly displayed his disfigured thumb to the girls who tsk-tsk and
coooed and snickered behind his back like true IUB members.
Saturday morning arrived all too soon and we found ourselves signed up with
numbers 1, 2 and 3 and parked at the front of the pit lane by 8am when all
the fun was about to start. Scrutiny was a formality on our stunning bikes
and we were soon doing our warming up excercises (eating a hamburger) while
waiting for the start. Robin was having a ball on the jumping castles.
Unfortunately some people had a bad accident nearby
and the ambulance and helicopter had to go and take care of the accident
leaving the officials unable to start the racing as they were now under the
Motorsport SA rules.
There were a couple of FZR’s, a fast looking ‘busa, more than one ZXR1200
and three GSX-R 1000’s. Also seen was various models of older GSX-R’s, a
VFR800, RF900 and assorted bikes in different shapes and sizes. Then a
bakkie from Sooperbile Solutions in Strand came in with a race prepped
GSX-R1000. You could see this lot meant business. We walked over and said Hi
to Julian. His spirits were high and he obviously looked forward to a nice
relaxed day in the sun as his customer cleaned up on the sooper hot GSX-R.
The Gixxer was unloaded and warmed up, then the cutomer came to collect it
and rode it to the front of the grid amid envious and openly hostile stares
from us riff-raff, standing around, smking sigarettes and talking nonsense.
He was told to get his arse to the back of the grid and go and sign up and
left humiliated and fuming while we snickered. He didn’t have a good day out
as his engine later packed up after his first run and then the wind blew his
helmet of the bike. We didn’t laff at his misfortune (too much). Poor Julian
was later seen working on the bike feverishly to get it running.
Indicator and Di, Pierre, Shining and Wig arrived to
support IUB and we stood around chatting. Indi opened his boot and it was
filled with cold beer which was eagerly accepted even if we all knew the
agony we were going to suffer as there weren’t a lot of toilets avaialble
and you couldn’t just leave the pit lane to go for a leak.
We finally were given the go
ahead about 10am and Beetljuice and myself were the first two to go. It was
a nice feeling to be back on the track. Our names and numbers were
announced before the lights turned green and we were off. Unfortunately I
was concentrating on the lights and didn’t get to see if Beetlejuice pulled
off his usual antics and wheelies but we both hit the speed trap at the 800m
mark at the same time at 225km/hr so I’m assuming he was serious about
winning this one. It was a it confusing cause we couldn’t see the checkered
flag from the start and we weren’t sure where to start braking. This caused
a lot of people to slack off or hesitate near the end while trying to get
their bearings at over 200km per hour and the announcers had to continually
tell everyone not to slack off before the flag. I think a quick ride up the
track would have been a good thing before our first run, maybe next time.
Beetlejuice must have felt satisfied that the TL had eventually proven
itself against the Bastard FZR From Hell and he went off in search of other
prey. While we were doing our pre-race warm-ups (Benson and Hedges style) a
guy on a VTR 1000 SP1 pulled up and we all told BeetleJuices theres some
competition for him. He promised to give the guy a run. He soon found the
Honda VTR 1000 and after convincing me that I would
be better off going against another unsuspecting guy on a FZR1000 behind him
he wondered off down
the pit lane muttering to himself.
Beetlejuice had a plan, it was simple like his brother in law Phil, but
unlike Phil, this plan just might work. He proceeded to stalk his intended
prey with compliments about the wonderful VTR exhaust note and wouldn’t it
be nice to hear the two bikes going down the track together. The poor guy
didn’t stand a chance - but he knew something our flamboyant TL rider didn’t
find out before it was to late.
Before he knew it he was lined up on the starting
grid with a stage 3 SP1 next to him. By this time BeetleJuice knew enough of
the SP1 to realise he might have bitten off more than he could chew. It
turned out the bike previously belonged to a guy he knew - who made some
modifications - making it a different puppy than what he expected. The VTR
had a deep, throaty, genuine sound,
like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up. The two V Twins
sounded really good when they leaped off the starting line with Beetlejuice
making an almost believable impression of being in control. He managed to
keep his arms and legs from flailing around and his front wheel much closer
to the ground than usual. It seems like he had learn’t a thing or to
competing against the BFFH and I was considering that it was time I stopped
playing around and started practicing my takeoffs. The TL managed to clock
230km/hr on this run as opposed to the VTR’s 225 but it appears that
something went wrong with the time keeper as the end results were swopped.
They also gave him an extra 100cc’s just to really put him in doubt as to
the accuracy of the time keeping and logging.
Tick Tock did a very nice 225km’hr but didn’t believe the timekeeper until
he saw the MSA verified results on Monday
I was soon up again for my second run, this time agaist the other FZR1000
and managed a very nice 236km/hr which had a cetain TL gnashing it’s gears
in fury.
On Beetlejuice’s third run he hit 225km per hour and the VTR managed 230 but
apparently Beetlejuice stalled on the start line again. Damn! I always
seemed to miss the fun at the start. (I was starting to wonder if maybe
there wasn’t a mielie of truth in the TL’s starting problem over the
previous few weeks. Hmmm) It was an amazing sound hearing the two V TWins
approaching the end of the track where we were still all waiting after our
last run for the session to finish so we could head back down the track to
the pit lane.
I still had one run to go and managed a very nice 230 which I was pleased
with. Ladyhawk had told me to get over 240 to quote her “..even if you have
to wheelie the bloody bike all the way down the bloody track” I was
satisfied with the BFFH’s performance though and still had half a gear in
hand.
Tick tock was up next on his GSX750F with 215km/hr beating another guy who
had though him easy prey. Don’t underestimate the IUB boys.
To sum up, Beetlejuice didn’t manage to push the Bastard FZR from Hell into
the meilie fields (naaaanaaanaaaaanaaaaaaaa), The FZR did not need a 10000x
Binoculars to see the TL’s
rear (a mirror might have helped though) and Tick Tock wisely found another
750 to compete against. It was a great weekend and I was really pleased
with the IUB turnout even though Beetlejuice, Tick Tock and myself spent
most of the time in the pit lane. Di photographed us with our certificates
for the IUB archives and Indicator vowed to bring his Blackbird along next
time.
Then it was time to return to our lodgings. We talked Henesia into
accompanying us into town for meat and a quick stop at Indis hotel so we can
watch some of the rugby. We bought some wood and meat, including a Texas
Steak that looked big enough to feed all of us. Then we went in search of
Indi and found him in the Hotel pub. We joined him for a beer or two and
then made our way back to the house.
The evening braai was a huge success without any bodily harm being
inflicted as Bobby was wary of the hot bricks. BeetleJuice was cautioned by
Henesia against eating too much of the Texas steak as his tummy wasn’t 100%
and he proceeded with a line from his favourite song “I live my life like
there’s no tomorrow…” then Rina joined in with a word of caution by
singing “yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away…” That’s a witty
missus you got there Lord Glutton Belly. Anyway, everyone enjoyed the food
and as we went to bed around 12 there were soon heavy snores coming from the
depths of the sleeping rooms - undoubtedly beer and texas steaky in origin.
Sunday morning we spend on the beach and feeding the flocks of seagulls that
soon appeared to make a muisance of themselves. Then we went in search of
breakfast and found a little cafe that did a breakfast and a half decent cup
of coffee for the princely sum of R14-50. We left Saldanha at around 12 and
headed home for a fast but uneventful run home. BeetleJuice was in the lead
and Bobby and myself let him ride in front so he can also feel what it’s
like.
Thanks CMA West Coast for a great day again and we’ll be back every
time.
Tags: Trip reports
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