I just got home. We went to the awards dealie last night and then drove all night.
I'll tell you what, that pre-stage fiasco found the limits of my patience. I went from being the nicest guy, totally supportive, understanding, patient, to being a total asshole. I lost it and got in the list keeper's face big time when I realized people were making multiple passes on the same day and we'd been waiting for two days for a pass. Then on Thursday morning, as soon as the list keeper showed up, I ripped him a new one again, let him know in very clear terms that if they pulled that shit on me again that day I'd be all over his ass and they'd have to throw me out to get me out of his face. I paid my entry fees just like everyone else and I was not about to let them do that to me again.
There were people who literally ran 3 and 4 times in a single day while others waited for days. I think some people were on the list multiple times. There may also have been some shenanigans with bike numbers that helped mask the fact that they appeared on the list multiple times. I don't know how they were doing it, I just know that system is a total, complete, cluster Fiat and they need to fix it.
It kind of set a bad mood for other things as well. I got so spun up that when I went to impound after qualifying, and they told me I was not allowed to change the oil in my bike (it's a nitro bike), I went ballistic on the tech guy as well. I was just totally, completely, fed up with any and all bullshit by that point, I had zero patience with any more of their incompetence. An argument ensued as to whether or not oil was a "part" (the rule book says you can't change "parts" between qualifying and return runs). I eventually won the argument, but not without spreading a lot of ill-will. Probably wasn't the best of time to try to pull that kind of crap on me, I had a short fuse for anyone wearing a red "Staff" shirt. Even AMA Ken wasn't exempt from my wrath.
Anyway, the course was much worse on Thursday, when I brought the nitro bike back out, than it was on Sunday when I first ran it. I'm 48 years old and got my first motorcycle at age ten, and in 38 years of riding I've never been so scared as I was on my qualifying pass. That bitch was just all over the place, I thought I was going down at 200mph a couple of times. Between the soft salt and the ruts and the breeze, it was just almost impossible to control the bike. I only managed 197 and scared myself shitless doing it. The backup pass was worse, but I took greater care, and slowed to 188. This same bike with no changes was solid as a rock last year on a 207mph pass at WOS. Clearly I don't have it set up right for a rutted, tractionless course. But I survived and put a weak record in the books.
There was a woman on a turbo 'busa, Leslie(?) Porterfield, who went down at speed shortly thereafter, while we were tearing down my bike in impound. I don't know anything about the crash except someone told me she had broken some bones. I do know she had run as high as 194 earlier, so she's not some shrinking violet, she was going for it. I don't know anything about her bike, I just know that my bike wasn't
t safe out there at anything over about 150 and I felt damn lucky to bring it home without wrecking it. How the hell a guy like Noonan goes out there and runs 230's and 240's in those conditions, I don't know. He's better than me, that's for damn sure.
The poor traction is the reason Ack went down too. Fortunately Denis was smart enough to hold the Bub 7.
I'm gonna clean things up and put the motors back together and maybe Susan and I will make it to WOS next week, but only if we hear the courses have dried considerably. It's just not worth it to tow clear out there and spend all that money for mushy salt.