Round 3: Finding The Limit
July 5, 2022 Adam Miller
“It will happen. Learning means crashing. When you‘re out to extract the maximum from [a] motorcycle, there is no other way. Go over the limit and then you know where it is. A fast rider can learn to stop crashing. A slow rider cannot learn to go fast. You have to do it, you have to crash, and you have to learn from it if you want to stay around.”
-Mark Neale, Hitting the Apex, 2015
Based on the quote, I’m sure you can guess where this is heading, but there’s a little bit to catch up on before I get to that. Ironically, the win in round 2 left me hungrier than I had been before. You don’t typically win a race and end up with a fully belly; winning makes you want to win again. After just a single day of recovery for the body, I was back at work again, training hard for round 3. The new workout routine involved wearing winter clothes, putting a space heater next to my exercise bike, bringing in some video footage of the HPR North Course, and burning over 400 calories in around 15 minutes. Obsessed? Absolutely. I was now only 2 points away from leading the championship. Winning round 3 would put me in the championship lead, so that was my target.
On the riding front, in anticipation of round 5, I took a trip down to Pueblo Motorsports Park to find some pace at an unfamiliar track. It was a really nice outing because there was a mock race at the end of the day and I was able to dice it up with fellow NovU frontrunners, Rick and Ben. I also got to ride with Nick again, which was kind of like being a lamb in the enclosure of a lion toying with its meal; he pretty much did what he wanted when he wanted and allowed me to observe his rear wheel as he eased on by. After spending a day there and seeing Ben and Rick lay down some fast laps, I’m certain they will be the guys to beat in round 5. It will be all I can do to grab rear wheel and hang on.
Pueblo Motorsports Park (PMP), June 2022
I love the photo from above because it shows that I’m still on the brakes about 2/3 of the way between brake initiation and the apex. Trail braking is my favorite part of riding. When you get it right, there’s nothing like it. Let’s ignore that my line was completely wrong and chalk that up to learning the track. At any rate, by the end of the day, I had a decent pace. However, I did start to get some brake fade. The Ducati 848 EVO Corse SE comes with enormous 330 mm rotors and Brembo M4 monobloc calipers. Additionally, my bike uses a Brembo RCS19 master cylinder, Vesrah XX pads, and RB660 brake fluid. It’s a really good setup. The fluid had been swapped right before PMP, so I had no reason to suspect it to be at fault. I did some more digging at home and found rotors that were very close to the lower spec limit for thickness and pads that were about 1/2 gone. This is how it goes: the faster you go, the more quickly you wear things out, especially brakes. Since brakes are NOT something to cheap out on, I decided new rotors and pads would be the safest route. Galfer wave rotors stepped in for the old stock rotors and some replacement Vesrah pads went back into the Brembo monoblocs.
Taking Brakes Seriously, Miller Garage, June 2022
After a day at PMP, inventory leading to round 3 was taken. Mind? Still hungry, check. Body? Only needs some basic maintenance, check. Machine? Even after the brakes were fixed, it needed a little work before round 3. I have a few sponsors who probably would have been embarrassed to have their company logo on my primer race fairings. All winter and 2 rounds of racing later; it was time to finish the damn paint job. After mulling over how to compliment the factory lines and getting some artwork in hand from my buddy Ryan Henderson, I was able to throw my fairings into a makeshift booth and get the bike looking much less embarrassing.
Portable Paint Booth, Miller Garage, June 2022
Duc Prime 2022 Belated Unveiling, Miller Garage, June 2022
Nice, right? Shame what happened to it shortly thereafter.
Leading up to Friday practice, I got about as close to good timing as I have thus far. Everything was packed up the night before and I got almost a full night’s sleep. I think I’ll finally nail this part in round 4. Again, I arrived bright and early for practice, ate a healthy breakfast, drank some coffee, riders meetings, bike on the warmers, good to go for session one with a list of goals and a track map on the trailer wall. Practice went well. My pace was quite good and I made some small steps on about half my riding goals; not the perfect day, but I’ll take progress where I can find it. By the end of the day, I was feeling good. The telemetry shows that I was riding quite well. The plot below from right after lunch is representative of nice, consistent laps by end of day.
Friday Practice Average Lap Pace, HPR, Round 3
After 6 sessions, mid 1:22’s were getting pretty easy. The data plot above might seem meaningless to some, but if you scrutinize it you’ll see almost no flat spots for speed (black) and a clear handoff between brake force (red) and cornering force (green) at every single turn on the track. This means I was executing corners with proper trail braking everywhere. You can also see steep increases in red out of turns, which means I was driving hard and early out of each corner as well. I was also getting values higher than 1.1G under braking in the hard braking zones on the track, and well over 1.2G lateral in almost every turn with a max lateral of 1.4G in turn 11. When you corner that hard, your body gets completely glued to the bike. As long as the tires hold on, it’s a very cool sensation. There was still some room for improvement to brake hard more consistently, but I don’t usually get the back end dancing at nearly every turn unless I’m actively racing so I was ok with not slowing at 1.2G for every single corner entry during practice. My best theoretical lap times based on Friday practice were mid 1:21’s. Throw in some race day rage and consider my historical “97%” observation of practice vs. race times, and race pace for me should have been mid 1:20’s with the possibility of breaking into the 1:19’s with the proper motivation (see “last lap battle”). Given last year’s race pace set by Nick on the HPR North layout, I ended the day with a general feeling of confidence about running with the front guys, but felt a little less bullish about winning the race outright compared to my pre-race hunch during round 2.
Ever learning from my adventures, I brought an air mattress for the trailer and slept wonderfully this time, but I woke to a rather ominous sky complete with threatening wind gusts. My first thought was, “this is not a good day for racing”. My second thought was, “you’re going racing anyway, so it’s time to get your game face on”. After the normal morning raceday routine, the conditions were still shit, but my thinking at the time was that if this is how things are going to be, I needed to get out on the track and acclimate to it.
And so I departed with the B group in mixed conditions that seemed sketchy, but stable. I didn’t waste any time at all; simultaneously a strength and a weakness as a racer. I went full send and streaked away from everyone else, trying to find comfort in a limit I couldn’t quite discern. In hindsight, there were so many red flags for what ended up happening that I feel stupid about what transpired. In my defense, it’s very hard to tell the difference between misty air and a light drizzle at 140 MPH. Not in my defense, hitting 140 MPH on HPR North’s straight on a supersport bike in misty air conditions is dumb, never mind doing so after an intangible transition to drizzling. Net hindsight says I was riding like an idiot, given the weather. I was all alone at a pace no one would even attempt, which was probably smart on their part. I had to crack my visor on the front straight so that I could see my braking marker at 4s. The bike felt squirrelly as hell through the bobsled. Finally, at turn 12, on lap 3, I found the limit and stepped right over it.
High Plains Raceway North (red), June 2022
The data tells the story. I was pushing at about 90% in mixed conditions on dry slicks. I crested turn 12 at close to 1.1G while going about 84 MPH, whereas my normal numbers there are closer to 1.2G and 95 MPH. There was no slide to save, the front end just went away instantly like stepping off a ledge you didn’t know was there. I have absolutely no idea how Marc Marquez saves stuff like that. The man must have some of the best reflexes in the world.
The Crash, HPR North, June 2022
I instinctively put out my arm for stability, but that only helped for the split second before I started tumbling. Luckily I had the presence of mind to tuck my arms, but that only does so much. The tumbling hurt like hell. At that kind of speed you have very little control over what happens and my body took a beating, particularly my right leg from the knee down. When I came to a stop, I had waves of pain washing over me, and I could clearly sense something wrong with my leg. Oddly, my first coherent thought was, “damn, I just screwed up everyone’s session.” In the rider’s meetings, you’re taught to stand up if you’re ok; I didn’t stand up. The safety workers were absolutely on the ball. Glen, corner workers, EMT, everyone, did a stellar job of keeping me safe. They got me in the ambulance and started doing all the standard checks to ensure I was not critically injured. As the adrenaline started to take over, the familiar sensations of injury set in. I knew with reasonable confidence that I was injured, but nothing shot out as worthy of an immediate trip to the hospital. As verified by EMT’s, no concussion, no apparent broken bones, and no internal or external bleeding. Overall, it seemed to be a painful reminder of the dangers of racing. By the end of the ambulance ride I was sitting up on my own, stripped down to my base layer. I needed help getting out, as my leg was still throbbing. When I looked over to my trailer Duc Prime was staring back at me, looking pathetic. That was the conclusion of the incident. Hats off to the HPR crew, though, they are totally top notch and the experience made me feel like I was in very good hands for this kind of situation. I can’t thank them enough.
Well, the accident was over, now it was time to figure out what to do next. I was about to find out how awesome the MRA community is. When adrenaline from something like a motorcycle crash (or BMX crash, or rollerblading crash, or fastball to the face, or rolling an ankle after a rebound, or skateboarding crash, or climbing accident, or gym accident, or snowboarding crash… sheesh) starts to wear off, it can make you feel really cold for some reason. In my case, this usually manifests in a visible case of the shivers. My paddock neighbor and fellow competitor Ryan and his wife Roxanne were quick to offer up a blanket and the warmth of their bitchin’ camper van so that I could straighten myself out. Although Rick had already beaten me to the punch, I called Kori to let her know what had happened and that I was alright. After the call, I took a few minutes to contemplate the situation. Should I push on? The decision came down to to a few things: since last year, I’ve had my sights on winning the Nov U championship and, at the time of the accident, I was still only 2 points behind the leader of the championship; I was in pain and wouldn’t be able to ride at 100%, but I was pretty sure I could still ride; the bike didn’t look like a total yard sale and it might be pseudo-fixable in time for the race; I don’t quit, it’s a detestable thought to me and riding at a fractional pace through a hefty amount of physical pain seemed more tolerable than going home without trying. With that final thought, I knew I had to atleast try. This kind of decision can be divisive and difficult to explain or justify, but it’s just one of those things that some people have baked into their bones. As with my desire for speed, so too burns a need to persist in the face of difficulty. Not to prove a point, not to achieve a goal, but simply because that’s how I tick. It’s a characteristic that causes grief for my loved ones sometimes, but asking me to give up on something is like trying to get a Husky to stop pulling on its leash. They’re hard-wired and, to an extent, so am I.
The response from my fellow MRA members was incredible. As soon as a few folks got wind of my intentions, people I hadn’t even formally met jumped in and started helping. Not only were complete strangers throwing in, I had direct competitors assisting as well, likely to the detriment of their own race preparation mentally, or otherwise. I’ve ridden with CCS, WERA, and now the MRA and the MRA is the only organization where this kind of generosity has happened to me. It was touching.
Help in the Pits, HPR, June 2022
It had to be no fewer than 10 people who contributed valuable time to my efforts. A collection of strangers, acquaintances, and competitors helped me get the bike together enough to repass tech and even helped me perform an extra wheel swap as the track began to dry out. I owe this round to all of them. Of special note above is Rick, still in his race suit. He was leading the championship at the end of round 2 with me in close pursuit by 2 measly points. So what does he do? Contributes valuable race prep time alongside Nick to help get me back on the track. He went so far as to take over in wrenching on the front end of the bike after telling me to stop worrying about bike and start worrying about suiting up for the race. Only a good person does that kind of thing for his closest competitor in a championship race. Good on you, Rick!! If there’s some kind of sportsmanship award in the MRA, I think Rick deserves it; he’s been nothing but awesome since round 1.
At any rate, with much help, I was able to make it to pre-grid in time for the race. Going straight from a crash to pre-grid is not a great way to get in a good head space for racing, but that was the situation and I had to make the most of it. In my one warmup lap, I could tell this was going to be a race of damage limitation. My left bar was still bent, the right side of my body stiff and sore, and my spare gloves were surprisingly uncompliant. Here we go, anyway. My start was not horrible, but from turn 1, my pace was just not there, and it only got worse as the race went on.
MRA Round 3, HPR Turn 13, June 2022 Photo by Kelly Vernell
Things really hit the fan on lap 3 when I got arm pump in my right hand. My transition from throttle to brake turned to tar and my braking markers got pushed back atleast 100 ft per turn to avoid running off the track. I was a sitting duck and fell down the order accordingly.
MRA Nov U Round 3 Lap Chart, HPR, June 2022
I fought as hard as my body would allow and, honestly, I don’t know how I defended P6 as long as I did, but I could only do so much and ended up crossing the line in a disappointing P12. To date, I’ve never finished below P6 in a race that didn’t involve an off track excursion, including my time racing with the WERA boys and girls. Looking at the lap times of Ben, considering my practice pace, and knowing what Rick was doing before his fall at 13, on any other day the 3 of us would have cleared off and fought each other for the win, but that’s just not how things went. Ben rode fast and smart and he completely deserves the victory he earned. The dark horses have also started breaking through the pack, so the sharp end is about to get more crowded in round 4.
I feel a little conflicted about this race. On the one hand, the result was not good and I missed a big opportunity due to my stupidity during free practice. On the other hand, I showed a lot of grit, I still took home 9 points, and I remain 3rd in the championship, trailing Ben’s lead by just 13 points. Most importantly, I had a huge serving of help from my fellow MRA members to get me back on the track for the race. That’s the real takeaway of the weekend, without a doubt. The people in this club are amazing to race with and the lingering emotion after round 3 is gratitude.
After the Nov U race was done, I packed up and called it a weekend. As it turned out, the Nov U boys took quite a beating. Both Rick and Ben had pretty nasty crashes of their own later in the weekend and we’re all licking our wounds at the moment. For my part, things have localized to the right leg from the knee down and I have a collection of broken parts that need attention on the bike. For a few days my right leg looked like it belonged on someone else’s body on account of the swelling. And, as much as I love the cankle look, I’m ready for that to go back to normal if, for no other reason, so that I can tell where my foot stops and my leg begins.
Messed up Leg, Miller House, June 2022
Broken Parts, Miller Garage, June 2022
So it’s back to work for me. The bike is already getting fixed back up again and, luckily, I don’t think the repair work is going to be horrendous, just a little tedious in some areas. I’m also following best practices to get my leg functioning properly again. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to train for atleast a week, which is driving me nuts. However, don’t be fooled by my status at the time of this writing. I’m as stubborn as they come and I’ll be back at round 4 ready to go hard in the paint to regain some ground. I wish Rick and Ben well and hope they’re able to make it to round 4 ready to fight as well. They both deserve to continue a strong championship challenge. As for the dark horses, barring the setback due to stupid riding in crappy conditions, I’ve been getting quantifiably faster every time I throw a leg over Duc Prime, soooo
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
