In my younger and more irresponsible days there was a tradition of illegal racing on a Saturday after midnight between the Cuban Hat (Durban beachfront – now gone) and the Blue Lagoon (if you want something fast, but are on a budget, get a superbike). Generally, bikes could take the cars on acceleration but the cars won on top-end. My particular nemesis was a V12 Jaguar. My technique was to keep as close as possible (preferably in front) and exploit the superior handling of the bike at the half-way point (Blue Lagoon) which was all twisty with off ramps and on ramps etc (which cars were bad at) before doubling back. My winning strategies involved exploiting the ‘Daddy’s Car’ syndrome.
Winning strategies exploiting the ‘Daddy Car’ syndrome.
#1 I knew the V12 guy. It was daddy’s car and he was nervous of bending daddy’s iron in the curves. I exploited this. He became nervous when the car started broad sliding on beach sand.
#2 The halfway point was the Blue Lagoon. The road runs very close to the beach here and it wasn’t unusual to have drifts of beach sand on the road. I went there (during daylight) and cleared a line for my bike so that I could lean to the limits of tyre adhesion while he fishtailed wildly (nervous about daddies iron as well). <Evil chuckle>
#3 The course (this was serendipitous) was just long enough for my bike to be in the power-band when I crossed the finish line (ahead of the Jag if I didn’t fluff a gear change). Another 200 metres and he would pass me.
Aaaaaah. Youth.
Winning strategies exploiting the ‘Daddy Car’ syndrome.
#1 I knew the V12 guy. It was daddy’s car and he was nervous of bending daddy’s iron in the curves. I exploited this. He became nervous when the car started broad sliding on beach sand.
#2 The halfway point was the Blue Lagoon. The road runs very close to the beach here and it wasn’t unusual to have drifts of beach sand on the road. I went there (during daylight) and cleared a line for my bike so that I could lean to the limits of tyre adhesion while he fishtailed wildly (nervous about daddies iron as well). <Evil chuckle>
#3 The course (this was serendipitous) was just long enough for my bike to be in the power-band when I crossed the finish line (ahead of the Jag if I didn’t fluff a gear change). Another 200 metres and he would pass me.
Aaaaaah. Youth.