Round 2: Victory
June 7, 2022 by Adam Miller
With no update between rounds 1 and 2, there’s a bit to go over this time. In Hitchcock fashion, I’ll start with the ending. Round 2 ended in my first ever AMA club racing victory. After 12 years of trackdays, 4 years of club racing, 1 podium, a bunch of near missed podiums, a huge amount of time, effort, and resources, and a final serious push for success in 2022, the taste of victory could not possibly be sweeter. Let’s dive in.
Novice GTU Victory, AMA/MRA Round 2, PPIR June 2022
For those not up to date with round 1 difficulties, it basically ended with gratitude for doing well in spite of the circumstances, but also left room for personal improvement and a need to perform repairs on the bike. One at a time, though.
I don’t want to sound like Danilo Petrucci complaining about why he didn’t win his latest MotoAmerica race (seriously, go look up any post race interview this year when he finishes below first place… I like Petrux, but he needs some help with those interviews), but in my case, it’s just not possible to win a race on a bike that won’t shift gears. There were significant issues in round 1 that seemed to be bigger than a simple quickshifter problem. Knowing full well I wouldn’t have time to resolve these issues on my own, I dropped the bike at Boulder Motorsports with a list of symptoms, a hunch, and a pretty aggressive repair timeline.
Boulder Motorsports, Duc Prime Repairs, May 2022
For the record, I am not currently sponsored or supported by Boulder Motorsports, so this is not a paid endorsement, but I’ll say it anyway: these guys are top notch and they greatly exceeded my expectations. In less than a week, they had found and repaired some major broken parts in the transmission shifting mechanisms: a broken return spring, a worn shifter arm mechanism, and a major adjustment issue with said shifter mechanism. They also put in fresh oil and fixed a few oddball problems with one of the cases while they were in there. To top it off, they put the bike on their dyno to verify a fully loaded demonstration of the repairs without charging for dyno time. When I picked the bike up, they went over all their findings with me in detail rather than adopting the more conventional “trust me, I know what I’m doing, I’ve been a mechanic for 372 years” attitude you sometimes get at other shops. It takes a special pride in one’s work to go to such lengths, especially within my demanding timeline. To do all that for a damn fair price gets high marks in my book. I also have to tip my hat to friends and family who threw some money my way after round 1 to help ease the blow of getting the bike fixed. This continues to be a group effort that would not be possible without the support of my donors and sponsors.
At any rate, Boulder got the bike back to me in great shape and much faster than I was expecting which paved the way for the second part of improvements that needed to be made before round 2: rider mod. I think the best summary of my riding in round 1 came from my rider coach, who said “I have no idea how you went as fast as you did in round 1”. Suffice to say I was riding the wheels off the bike driven more by desire to win than anything. I had a huge over reliance on hard braking and driving out hard and early. It was an “in and out” style not very conducive to a flowing track like High Plains Raceway. With some awareness of my weaknesses as a rider and some knowledge about steps some of my competitors had taken to step up their game, I decided it was time to go to school because the self-taught method had finally reached its limits. Enter Mike Applehans.
Mike is an extremely experienced and accomplished racer with a very deep bag of racing knowledge who has officially opened up for business in the rider instruction world. The timing of his new gig couldn’t have been better because I needed a coach who could cut to the chase on MRA tracks. My wife, Kori, and buddy, Chris, both helped get me linked up with Mike and we set up a day of one on one instruction. Because she’s awesome, Kori gifted the day to me as a birthday present. She’s mine fellas, back off! Anyway, Mike asked about my goals, strengths, weaknesses, bike, classes I’m racing in, and a few other things to help prep for the lesson appropriately. I also had some preconceived notions about what I thought I needed to improve which I shared in advance. Here’s where a coach and Mike, in particular, made all the difference: I was completely wrong about what I thought I needed. After 2 sessions, Mike had me focusing on some very basic things that I’d completely glossed over under the assumption that I’d long-since mastered them. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I’m not a master rider and, as such, had some nasty habits that were really holding me back. These were really deeply ingrained habits so it took some serious mental effort every turn of every session to get on the right track. I knew things were starting to improve when I had a major off in turn 8 at HPR during the lesson simply because my old braking markers were no good anymore. It was a tangible and, in my case, terrifying sign of increased speed. It was also awesome to see such a big improvement.
The lessons didn’t stop on the track, either. Mike took plenty of time with me in the paddock between sessions to talk about basically any racing topic I thought could be even remotely helpful. I’m not going to give all the secret info out for free, though. If you want the benefit of Mike’s services, go talk to him, arrange for a lesson, and pay the man for the value of his knowledge. I think the real secret sauce, though, is that Mike is selective with his students. Something I think we both understood about each other, which is not something you get at Yamaha Champ School, is that we’re both fierce competitors. Mike races to win. I race to win, too. I have fun when I’m racing and I try not to take it too seriously, but there’s no moving bones about the fact that, when I’m out running Nov U, the gloves are off and I’m willing to put myself through quite a bit short of being dangerous or stupid to win that damn race. Mike was okay coaching someone with that mentality and that was key for me. If I can find the money in the couch cushions somewhere, I’ll be doing another day with Mike before the season is over; he’s the exact right rider coach for someone like me. He also has a pretty awesome beard.
Advanced Rider Coaching with Mike Applehans, High Plains Raceway, May 2022
Those are the main updates spanning rounds 1 and 2. The bike and I both got some serious work. Once again, I wasn’t able to complete the aesthetics on the bike, but I think my priorities were in the right places. I hope to show up to round 3 with a bike worthy in appearance and have a few cool paint themes in mind. At any rate, it’s time for the round 2 story.
PPIR Turns According to Racers in the Paddock Rather than Online Track Maps, June 2022
Round 1 Friday practice taught me for the thousandth time in my life that you have to put down the wrenches, load up what you have, and get some rest before going to a racetrack. Unlike Round 1, I got a reasonable amount of sleep and arrived at PPIR bright and early on Friday. I had a clear plan in mind and didn’t have to do cartwheels in the paddock to execute it. The KISS principle was in full effect (keep it simple, stupid!). Luckily the day was pretty uneventful. I rode a bit, found some speed, looked at some data, chatted with Mike, made sure the bike was teched and ready, and shot the shit with some mates in the paddock. Calories were replenished with a hearty dinner before rolling out the sleeping bag out in the trailer and going down for the night. The feeling I had was good; relaxed with a side butterflies.
The morning of the race was about the same pace. Plans had already been well-laid and everything was going smoothly. Unfortunately, I did have to tip my hand a bit during free practice when the transponder checks painted a giant target on my back. I didn’t want be anyone’s reference point going into the race, but I was also the only person, as far as I know, breaking under 1:03 in Saturday practice within my class. God forbid word get out that it was on scrub tires and the pace felt pretty relaxed. It’s a terrible thing to think about before a race, but I was beginning to feel like it was mine to lose; not a good thought to have for multiple reasons, all of which can cost you a race and/or make you look like an asshole. I had to stay focused on the task that lay ahead, which meant executing this race one element at a time. Thinking about it’s conclusion was stupid, so I tried to put the finish line out of mind. I couldn’t, however, ignore a gut feeling I had about the race. Could I actually win this one? The rational brain took over, “We’ll see.. why don’t you focus on hitting your markers during lap 1 first, not to mention putting on that fresh new rear and getting it on the warmer?” Excellent point, rational brain. I swapped on the new rear tire and started visualizing lap 1.
Once again Kori was with me on race day. It’s always a great comfort to me to have her around the morning of a race. She keeps me grounded, she makes me smile, she cares a lot about what I’m trying to do; all critical things to feel in that situation. As with round 1, Novice GTU was the first race of the weekend so as soon as the opening ceremonies are over, you have to be ready to go. I was a healthy amount of nervous, but not nearly as much as round 1. When the third call came, I rolled out to pre-grid to take my spot on the front row. My competitors this year are very good sportsmen. We all made eye contact before the warmup lap and showed some mutual respect. I like that about my opponents; we respect each other. In spite of the fact that we’re all competing for the same prize and we’re all pretty damn competitive individuals, there’s some perspective about the fact that this is club racing. When the warmup lap is done and we’re waiting on the starting grid, though, the mood is always different. It’s every man for himself and each person out there is fighting for the same prize. Only one can get it.
The lights go on, bikes click into gear, and revs go up. De ja vu. Lights are out and moments later we’re screaming down the track. It wasn’t my best start ever, but it was good enough to put me where I needed to be. Rick and I went wheel to wheel into turn 1, neither of us willing to relinquish the lead. I knew I had to lead into the infield section or Rick might take off on lap one. In an act of will, I rolled onto the throttle very early on the exit of 1 and leaned into that fresh new rear Pirelli. In spite of it being turn one of lap one, she held on and shot me toward the entry of 3. I hit my favorite late braking marker on the calendar, found the apex, and led into the infield, exactly where I needed to be.
PPIR Turn 4, June 2022, Photo by Amber Arellano Double A Photography
Turn 4 used to be an extremely weak point on the track for me, but after getting pipped there for the podium on the final lap in round 2 last year, I put in a concerted effort to tighten that section up. Employing some much needed advise from Mike, it had now become a strong point for me. I didn’t worry about defending, I just ran my line there. Once you execute turn 4, turns 5-7 are extremely difficult for passing so, once again, I just focused on running my line rather than being defensive. Lap 1 was done and I was still leading. I ran my modified deep and hard line into 1 with a tasty high-speed apex to maximize drive onto the back straight and led once more into the infield. The second time around I saw a wheel on the exit of 7. I knew I had a battle on my hands and that victory wasn’t going to be easy. Hora del martillo.
On lap 3 everything clicked. I kept a cool head and just focused on hitting my markers. Nice, smooth, clean riding. It was the strangest damn thing: the faster I went, the easier things felt. 3 laps became 4, then 5, and before I knew it Rick and I were hitting back markers and making decisions about when and where to pass to avoid losing time. We got around 3 or 4 of them together and suddenly there was a white flag. “Holy shit, that’s a white flag and I’m still leading the race” I thought briefly. Then, I was immediately focused back on hitting my markers. Stay focused, damnit. I laid down my second fastest lap of the race the last time around, but I could sense that Rick was still there.
Entrance of one, no wheel shown. Ducati power out of turn 1 toward 3. Hairy-chested hard braking on entry of 3, back of the bike dancing around, trailing the lever all the way to the apex. Late apex and drive hard to 4, don’t let up on the throttle too soon. Spot your apex and take a fast line through 4, lots of cornering speed on the exit toward the chicane. Tight and tidy through 5 and 6. Smooth entry to 7, find that apex to maximize your exit speed onto the final straight. Get on the throttle as soon as you dare. A little squirm from the rear, no worries, tire life doesn’t matter anymore, stay on the throttle. Oh my god, it’s the checkered flag and no wheel in sight. Stay on the throttle. Keep it pinned! Up through the gears one last time. I had it! I won!
Pure elation is the best way to describe it. I filled my helmet with screams. I pounded my chest with primal rage at the insecurities I had about being unable to bag a win after years of trying. I raised my fist in the air and breathed in victory on a motorcycle for the first time. It was unreal. Ever the sportsman, even though he turned the fastest lap of the race on the final lap and trailed me to the finish line by mere tenths of a second, Rick gave me a fist bump on the cool down lap. Make no mistake, this victory was not akin to a Wayne Rainey or Joe Roberts experience. Although the riding was smooth and felt good, it was not an easy race. I was on my toes the entire time because I knew that Rick was right there with me. Rick may not have won round 1, but he turned the fastest laps in both rounds 1 and 2. He’s a proper hard charger and I was one mistake away from losing victory at pretty much every turn, especially on the final lap.
Like a craftsman taking pride in his handiwork, Mike was there to greet me at pit in. He knew it was my first win and his accolades meant quite a lot. Hell of guy. The real moment of gravity, though, came when I pulled to a stop in the pits. Kori was there to greet me with that lovely smile. She has seen me chasing invisible glory on tracks all over the country for years. She watched me race the stopwatch at Putnam against no one. She was my voice of reason when I shot my brakes to hell at Barber. She stood behind me when I started racing in WERA and dealt with the realtor from hell while I bagged my first podium at Tally. She literally bought the bike on which I now race, has seen me dump buckets of sweat out of my body on the exercise bike for the last 7 months, and actively supports an arguably ridiculous hobby. Make no mistake, Kori has skin in this game too. All of this, and there she was again in the pits, carrying our second child in the heat of June sun with a huge smile on her face. If that isn’t the definition of a supportive partner, I just don’t know what is.
I’ve heard racers say that there are 3 moments you never forget: your first podium, your first win, and your first championship. Although I feel I kind of accidentally stumbled into my first podium, I’ll certainly never forget it. This first win, though, is very special. In spite of some positive signs along the way, I honestly didn’t know that I’d ever win a race and had a lot of self doubt about it. To win a race in a club’s meatgrinder class, nonetheless, is very cool. Now I move forward in pursuit of a championship as a proven race winner properly challenged for victory by an extremely fast opponent. It’s a long road to round 7 and the pendulum swings both ways, but I’m not letting up. I now know for a fact that I can do this. It’s a very tight championship battle with 3 or 4 riders emerging at the top separated by single digit points, and you can never count out the possibility of a dark horse breaking through the pack. Rick leads me by 2 points going into Round 3 and has set the fastest lap in both opening rounds. Ben, our Round 1 winner, is very fast and will be there again. Ryan, our 3rd place Round 1 finisher has already proven that he’s a contender as well. I don’t yet know who the dark horse is, but someone else is likely to emerge and, as we saw last year, sometimes the dark horse can end up being the biggest threat of all even if he is racing with a rocket booster attached to his bike somewhere… We’re gonna find where you hid it Nick, it’s just a matter of time!!! Damn aliens. Anyway.
The icing on the cake of round 2 is that it was my pseudo birthday weekend. I’m now 36 years old and got to celebrate the aging process in about the best way I can imagine: success in an endeavor that generally pays dividends to the gifts of youth. On the way home, Kori and I stopped at a lovely little Italian restaurant in Colorado Springs to celebrate. I had a protein-heavy dish with a side of Left Hand Milk Stout to refill the tank as Kori humored my incessant babbling about every little detail of the race. I’ll never forget this weekend.
Paravacini’s, Colorado Springs, June 2022
In conclusion, this was obviously a great round and you can’t really beat victory, but I’m not resting on my laurels. I’m already back to training hard and preparing mind, body, and machine for round 3. It will have very unique physical demands and will probably require a different suspension setup to flick the bike around. Stay tuned!
If you’re enjoying the updates, please consider supporting my program and helping me achieve a dream of mine. Whether it’s a $20 donation through my Give Now page, or sending me spare parts, everything helps and everything is appreciated.
Cheers,
Adam Miller
