out onto the track for the sighting lap, mick comes past me on the rudge, bloody hell it's loud!, i follow him round until we come around the devils elbow and everyone starts to jockey for position, over the start and finish line and we are off, i pass mick into gerrads and don't see him again, mr fzr comes past down the straight but hasn't got a clue as we reach the esses, i stuff him on the inside and i'm away, round the hairpin, devils elbow and past he comes again down the straight, i stuff him again around gerrads, i'm flat on the tank, tucked in and he doesn't pass, my confidence in the bike is rising, the tyres are well scrubbed in, the handling is ok, no horrors like i expected, i'm 'old school', i can remember riding old brit's, twitchy 'strokers, bikes with bad suspension, tyres made from rubber out of a john bull printing set and big jappers, heavy, skinny tyres and loads of horsepower, i used to ride all year round until a few years ago so know about cold tyres, shit weather, dark, freezing winter mornings so riding an mz in lovely warm weather shouldn't be a problem, all of a sudden it all clicks into place and my nerves disappear, i become one with the bike, i can feel what's happening and my riding becomes smoother, one thing about riding on a track is that you get to go around the same corners over and over so you can get the line, find out where the bumps are and you don't have to worry about going 'round a corner and meeting a john deere head on, it's the way forward, my fingers are still wrapped around the clutch lever though, i can feel myself getting quicker and i start to lap some of the other lad's out there, all of a sudden the black and white flag is being waved and it's all over, i sit up and as i cruise back to the pits feeling good the bike stops, i scoot it back to the van, forty minutes untill the next session, i keep my leathers on as we go over the bike, it's frigging hot and i'm overheating, we wipe the bike down, check the plug, we need to jet down, too much fuel, tighten up the fasteners that have come loose, i'm drinking water likes it's going out of fashion, i'm dehydrated, i wheel the bike around to john's starter roller, he's given up now and changed into his civvies, '2nd gear, drop the clutch......', the bike starts but doesn't feel right, down to the holding area, marshall checks, onto pit lane, bike stops, bastard, onto starter rollers, bike starts, stops, onto starter roller, bike starts, bike stops, i push back to the pits, dangerous has the stand out, my day is over, too hot, jettted too big, don't want to damage the bike, i slump in one of the fold-out camping chairs still in my leathers, i'm gutted........ then, nige, des's team mate in the bmzrc championship turns up, we met at cadwell a couple of weeks previous, 'been timing you mate, 1minute 20's', ' sorry mate', i say, 'is that anygood?', nige gives me the good news, 'the 600's are doing 1 minutes dead around here with about 90 brake, youv'e got about 30 brake and your'e doing 1minute 20, do the math' i change into my shorts, put a brew on and we pack up to leave.

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