US MotoGP Day 7-10

Finally - Laguna Seca!

Finally we made it back from the spectacle of MotoGP – camping in primitive conditions, walking until our legs felt like jelly, sunburn so bad you can’t put your helmet on without a big grimace, no Internet, vendor tents larger than a 747 hangar, and breathtakingly fast handlebar to handlebar racing non-stop racing. MotoGP is big-time racing. The best of the best in the world were there, along with tons of celebrities to watch them. The last time I witnessed this type of activity was at a NASCAR race. Big expensive corporate helicopters shuttling the likes of Michael Jordon and Arnold Schwarzenneger to the races, lines for autographs snaking into the next county, more money in fancy painted 18 wheelers than many countries possess. The difference in MotoGP vs NASCAR or AMA racing is that they race all over the world – from China to Spain to Brazil to Australia and all over Europe. Hence they have to ship all that equipment and support vehicles via air freight. Quite an expensive proposition.

All the big factory teams are there – Honda, Kawasaki, Suzuki, Ducati, Yamaha. Noticeably absent is Harley Davidson and BMW. Both have rich racing heritages but in the past 30 years or so both have spurned competitive motor sports to build overweight, overpriced but highly successful non-racing products. BMW had a big booth at the races but they do not participate.

As we arrived at the California coast, Adam quickly fell in the love with the area just as I had the first time I visited. We say more sportbike riders in the first day on the coast, dressed in full leathers, than I have seen in a decade of riding in Oklahoma. The California coast is a mecca of sportbikes, with moderate weather year round, twisty, winding roads everywhere, and traffic in the populated areas that will drive you crazy. Adam is ready to live on California as soon as he graduates. I can’t blame him. Other than the mass of other people wanting to live, work and drive there, it is a wonderful place. I can certainly understand the attraction.

Highway 9

Our hotel concierge told us to be sure and ride Highway 9 south out of the bay area. Good choice. The interstates around here are very scary when you don’t know where you are going. I just about got plastered more than once while trying to navigate and watch the road at the same time. Adam ended up watching my backside while I watched out front and did the navigation. We also decided it was much safer to ride fast and aggressive rather than slow and tentative. It is far better to be passing traffic that you can see in front of you rather than to have traffic passing us from behind where we can’t keep a good eye on them. One mistake on the interstate and you are in serious trouble on a bike, with 8 lanes of traffic all running in your direction at 80 mph.

Before long we dropped out of the south Bay area and immediately we were on Highway 9, a nice, scenic, twisted, smooth piece of pavement running south to Santa Cruz. Amazing how you can be in packed traffic one minute, and beautiful winding twisty roads the next. Nice. There were hundreds of sportbikes doing the same thing we were doing. We passed them coming and going, all dressed in full colorful leathers, leaning over in the curves, running in a fast conga line with other bikes. Nary a Harley or Goldwing in site. Life is good.

Monterey

After the 30 miles or so of Highway 9 we were back on the main Highway 1 that runs up and down the coast of California. It was packed with traffic so the going was slow to Monterey. We finally made it there and stopped for lunch at the wharf. Later we visited Cannery Row, where hundreds of sport bikes were lined up and down the streets. This was supposed to be the happening place on Friday and Saturday night of the races, although we were so tired at night we did not visit except for that first day. As you might expect on the coast, the seafood was excellent, the weather a bit cool, and all the bikes were a nice visual benefit.

Laguna Seca

After doing a bit of searching we found Laguna Seca on Thursday afternoon. This is a very famous racetrack right outside Monterey, nestled in the hills with very expensive homes all around. They only have a few big races each year because the residents don’t like the traffic and noise. The biggest problem with Laguna Seca is there are only a few two lane roads into and out of the track, so this makes it very difficult to host these large events. Traffic on race day is just unbelievable, hence our decision to camp at the track. Luckily motorcycles can split lanes and this time they allowed us to ride on the shoulder so it wasn’t as bad as driving a car – poor drivers.

While the track has a long storied history of famous races, I was not that impressed. It was not a spectator’s track. We ended up having to hike all over the place to get decent views of the racing action, up and down steep hillsides. There is no one place where you get great views of all the action so you end up hiking a mile or more from one viewing spot on the track to another. No shuttles, no vehicles allowed in the good areas, just miles of hiking.

Luckily the racing was excellent so that made up for the four days of long hiking. The American Motorcycling Association (AMA) had national races as part the weekend events, sandwiched around MotoGP practice,qualifying and racing. MotoGP is the big world-level event, while AMA racing was the filler events. So lots of action all weekend. There were also hundreds of vendor tents to visit, selling everything you could want for your motorcycle from tires to exhaust systems to clothing. Adam and I had paddock passes so we were able to get into the pits to see all the cool race bikes and team trailers. Pretty colorful and exciting.

Racing

In the first 50 years of international Grand Prix (now MotoGP) racing, Europeans dominated the sport. In the late 70’s along came Kenny Roberts and a host of other Americans, and using their flat track racing style they dominated for the next 20 years. Then a few years ago a young Italian named Valentino Rossi came along and changed the faced of MotoGP. Many say he is the greatest motorcycle racer of all time, and I would not argue with that assessment. He is certainly the highest paid motorcycle racer of all time, pulling in an estimated $26 million per year in salary and endorsements. Not your normal chiseled athlete, he looks more like a horse jockey, standing maybe 5’ tall and 120 lbs. The 23 year old kid can ride a 240 horsepower, fire breathing, 220 mph motorcycle like no other. He has won the last 4 world championships in dominating fashion and has a commanding lead in this years championship.

The big question is can an American unseat him at the first MotoGP race on U.S. soil in 11 years? No American has even won a race in the past 3 years.

Exciting to say, YES! Downhome Kentucky country boy Nicky Haden dominated the weekend, starting from the pole position and leading every lap of the race. Normally I prefer to see some dicing for the lead, but in this case it was just too exciting to see Nicky bring home the bacon. He is just the nicest, coolest southern kid from a racing family, and he has been competing in MotoGP for three years with varied results. He rides for Honda so you know he is fast, and this time he used his knowledge of Laguna Seca to bring home the win. Nicky was followed by Texan Colin Edwards, and then Valentino, so Americans claimed the top two podium spots. The fans were going crazy all during the race, everyone standing, yelling, and cheering as the MotoGP bikes blasted by at an eardrum splitting 180 mph, tires searching for grip, front wheels inches off the pavement, the tension high as the race progressed. What a blast and worth the primitive camping, hiking, and sunburn of the past 4 days.

North to the Golden Gate Bridge

After the races on Sunday evening Adam and I packed up and headed north. I wanted to bypass the interstate as much as possible, so we chose Highway 1 north along the coast. Our goal was to get north of the Golden Gate Bridge before the Monday rush hour. Good choice, except that it was very cold and foggy all along the coast. Even though we stopped and put on the heated vests, we were still freezing by the time we made it the 100 miles north to San Francisco. Highway 1 dumps you out on the freeways and downtown streets of San Francisco, which were still packed on a Sunday evening. It was very scary to ride in dense fog, your faceshield fogging up, hour hands not working from the cold, and trying to navigate a maze of highways and turns with cars blasting past all around. We finally dropped in behind some other cyclists returning from the races and followed them across the Bridge. As soon as we got to the other side it cleared up, warmed up and we got a great view of ½ the bridge shrouded in fog, ships steaming into and out of the fog as they made their way seaward.

Last night we finally got back to a hotel and high speed Internet. We crashed in a soft bed. Today is laundry, cleaning the dust from the bikes, and a ride north to the Redwoods of Northern California.