Lovely weather, psycho bikers, muppets & twisties! - Page 2 - Porsche General - PistonHeads UK

can't agree enough. I went for a blast yesterday and had virtually no fun whatsoever.(apart from completely nailing 2 D1cks in an MGF who were really getting annoying)

As regular PH'ers know I'm a very keen 2 wheeler but I must admit there is a huge growing number of Sunday riders who have the riding abiliies of tapoles and the road manners of Attila the Hun and they all seem to travel in groups with equally untalented mates. I normally pass most of them in the twisty bits while astride my relitively speaking quite underpowered machine. My own personal frollics come from cars in the winter on the empty b roads and bikes in the summer when the slow numpty quota & huge tailbacks just do my head in.

I had fun. Burning off evil little 911s Got to agree though, first really nice Sunday of the year always=blue rinse, caravan, Rover 214, rug on the parcel shelf, trilby wearing numpties

Top post Derestrictor

You will indeed, sir! Let us hope we get a day similar to last year during which the sun beat down on other's roofs and my helmet (it being mandatory to enjoy one's hoon sans canvas). As to being hopeless - surely not, sir... What group are you in? Are you staying locally? And see you there!

Were you driving the family uberwagen Mrs D? Insurance is always cheaper when there's a sensible lady driver on the policy... Also, has Jarel still got his 911? Cheers Domster

Thanks Kev but you knows whari mean, non? There you are, expending hours of precious time, fondling and stroking your loved one and smearing it in overpriced gunk, fantasizing about an idyllic wee jot of hoonery which proves frustratingly, time and again, to be just that (at least off track): the stuff of dreams alone. Btw, Mrsd, these bikes are only burning one off by choosing a tactic of blatant width advantage - yes, they're incredibly accelerative, no doubt - but if the cretins I was dealing with showed a modicum of normal biker care, I suspect certain peasants of the porquine variety might keep with 'em a tad more successfully. It's their assumption of 'droit de passage' that peeves me so, though I must confess, I can understand their feeling of invulnerability.

One of Derestrictor's salacious ancestors at work... Notice how the prose style has been passed down through the generations www.thesun.co.uk/article/0,,5-2003121317,00.html

Domst, from the diary of what foul-breathed jezebal did you happen upon such lascivious reflections? Magnificent, all the same!

'Pouting orbs' and 'spermatic hydraulics' are classics. I'm sure you can get them into your next post

Er, I invited our Northern chum, Don. More the merrier and all that. Guess he'll be staying "Chez Thomas", unless he gets a better offer. We'll all queue nicely though. Promise

Don unt Gregenstein; Just renewed my PCGB membership and there were still places left for July 25th. However, I'm suddenly wondering about noise regs and whether the pork's illegal or something? Any advice? Btw Don, you're talking to the trackday equivalent of one of Domster's pre-cogniscent spermatozoa, in the consideration of all things Silverstonic. I shall be like the muppet in Clarkson's latest outpouring, except rather than tip-toeing around in an RS, I shall be the L-plated gibbon avec blowers. Having said that, I would hope to be an early learner and with any luck, sufficiently emboldened by a lap or three, feel confident enough to squeeze Theodore McThrottle and explore the resolve of Berhard von Bilstein. Just enough to really appreciate some nice, relaxing, speed.

Count me in for drinks the night before

Are you coming as well then Dom? If so then do you mind a drive up to Daventry? If so, no worries. Think we may frequent a local eatery rather than have me attempt to poison you all by wheeling out the BBQ.

Top stuff DeR. The lanes of Surrey were strafed in the sunshine by the Yellow Peril. Overtaking strings of numpista in one fell swoop was de-rigeur.

If I am free, I will be there... absolutely. Will try and pop along as a passenger on track as well (if allowed). Sounds like a great fixture

"If I am free, I will be there... absolutely. Will try and pop along as a passenger on track as well (if allowed). Sounds like a great fixture " Ditto. Melv

Hey DeR, Sorry to hear about the Numptista ruining your perfectly planned day off. If track day's don't do it for you, you'll have to consider a bit of Late Night Banzai R...."Dawdling"...acing. Of course if that doesn't work either you'll have to consider the Crack Cocaine of the trackday world with a visit to Nurburg during a public day. DAZ PS - played with an Esprit on saturday: www.pistonheads.com/gassing/topic.asp?t=32269&f=17&h=0

Okay folks, just to clarify then: The "trackday" being mentioned is on July 25th - the Friday after the GP...its a PCGB event, but spectators are welcome. Don's going with the Red Peril (well, we had a Barron, and I couldn't think of anything else suitable) The night before, if DeR is going to make the trawl from the Northern Wastelands (read Bolton), I'll organise a meet up/scoff in a pub or something - there's a couple of good 'uns near me. Of course, if anyone wants to join us, you're more than welcome.

If there is a good PHer turnout I may attend as a spectator due to my not fitting in car with a helmet. Ohhh, and no PCGB won't bend the rules even if I sign lots of bits of paper absolving them of all responsibility. DAZ PS - Any chance of a passenger lap or two from any of the roof down convertible owners, ie Don or Greg?

Doubt ours will be on the track Daz, but I'm sure Mr Corleone will give you a ride, if you ask nicely. He'll probably want an internal organ rearrangement type run in yours in return. I dunno if Emm wants to pop her trackday cherry at Silverstone...she's still not sure.

Alright Daz, me awd festooner of good times in the environs of velocitous illegality - I trust the steed is in rude health, as per? Still, your tussle with Esprit-boy goes to highlight the close proximity 'twixt much of our beloved chariots' on road speedoikery...and I think this is where a track day would be so good for such a general appreciator of the overall form of driving 'per se' like myself. As I was just saying to the tech-supremo Stevadore Kevlinatum from PCGB, it matters not what's under the hood alone, to avail oneself of immense satisfaction on track, or so it is said. However, the great K assured me that even though I was clamouring for a huge great muppet sticker and indeed stabilisers for my first pork based track outing, he suspected that since Group Captain Hindley had been messing around with the plumbing and so forth, any qualms through Woodcote or whatever would be more than compensated for on the less twisty sections. In any case, Silverstone was suitably wide and favoured ubermeistery. Whatever, Steve; I fully expect to be p1ssed all over by several 924s with decent pilots! That's assuming my insurers won't disqualify me. It's all getting terribly involved: I think I'll just opt for Sir Don's glovebox and a marmalade butty. As for the N/schleife: all I can say is 'hail de Daz;' frankly, the largest edifice of respect being due if that's your bag and in true adherence to the Dirty Harold maxim, the track of multiple wooded ecosystems and infinite tales of doom is enough to project the immediate clarity of one's own limitations. But then again...

DeR I don't remember anyone checking the decibel levels of any cars at the last July Silverstone outing...and there were a few noisy beasts! All the same I would recommend making sure that your particular porcine projectile wasn't breaking new ground in the Auditory Guiness Book of Records. If you haven't driven Silverstone before do two things: 1) Get a copy of the Circuit Guide and read it, 2) Get a F1 Simulator game and drive the circuit. The game doesn't help in any other way than helping you remember where the track goes. As to your track day level of experience - I'm not exactly the world's foremost expert - (all homage to GreenV8S, Steve Heath etc) - but I do know how to be safe on track and have a bloody good time. Frankly that's all that counts - after all there's no "race" to win!

I'll try to squeeze you in, daz! (I have this vision of it raining and there being a dome-like bulge on the passenger side of the roof)

DeR Mr Corleone summed it up nicely; it's not a race. Just drive at a level you feel safe and enjoy it. You'd be amazed at what I move out of the way for at the Ring. DAZ PS - Herr Kevlin is a top bloke. When my helmet woes came to light he gave me a full refund for a track day I'd booked before even taking delivery of the car. Edited to say, Don, excellent. Are you at the Wycombe meet on sunday? >> Edited by dazren (moderator) on Monday 17th March 17:00

Thanks Don, Fortunately, PCGB seems to think I'm at about 102-103 db which is pathetic. Apparently, they've had no probs in practice with noise levels at this particular venue. Tell you the truth, I'm fair wetting myself at this prospect. Another thing was the way it'll run; no more than 30 cars per sequence (each sequence lasting 20 minutes) which apparently feels empty. It sounds like paradise. Oh dear, this could become an expensive addiction.

Daz: Next weekend I'm meeting up with my bro who I only see once a year or so - so I won't be at any PH things I'm afraid. DeR: Silverstone GP is a big wide track. This means speeds are high and it pays to have the cars well spaced out. Luckily that really isn't a problem. The PCGB days are very tightly run - even more tightly than the excellent bookatrack - in my experience. So risks are as low as can be and fun levels are high. Also driving standards tend to be good - with politeness as standard. Letting people by nearly always gets a cheery wave..and the overtaking technique (by consent, only on the left, only on the straights) is very simple and clear to follow. Generally the slow(er!!!) drivers are happy to get out of your way and if I spot a 996 turbo following me through the twisties I pull right as soon as there's a straight - they're hardly likely to hold me up, after all. (Although I did overtake a turbo on the last do..he wasn't trying at the time of course).

I can hardly contain my more involuntary juices!

I can guarantee it will become an addiction. But of the sort that is good to have. The downside is that the public roads will seem even more full of those of a numpty persuasion.

That's exactly what your great-great-great grandfather said when faced with Miss Brown's pouting orbs!!!!

I've just thought - if I do enjoy it too much - I might develop a severe case of Domsteritus...in which case all thoughts of lesser, albethey fancier, posing pouches, evaporate to be replaced by (gulp) thoughts of RSs, Ultimae, Caterae and even Radiclivity. On the other hand, let's not get too carried away. Right, what's fashionable these days in the accoutrements department for track ents? Any bright ideas from those with the requisite expertise? Anyway, sorted the insurance out, got things organised for a tech check just before; just need to send the Cornbury Massiv a couple of hardy chickens in payment. Happy days are here again...

Think I just had a corner of Berks to myself, coming home from Gloucs to Andover I decided to cut through to Hungerford on the A4 then down the lanes to home....A4 was empty but kept it sensible then cut off into the back lanes from Hungerford and gave it the large one. Probably got inumerable stone chips and pheasant feathers in the grill but the Burns/McRea experience was worth it.

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Well..you do NOT need to do the full nomex suit/underwear thing! You WILL need a proper helmet (ooer), if you don't already have one. I bought a Schoei but by repute Arai are very good. You don't need to pay a fortune for one but if you do it will likely be more comfortable. Ones with removeable inserts in the lining for washing will make subsequent trackdays more pleasurable.... A full face helmet is more flexible than a open one. In that you can use a full-face helmet for motorbikes, open cars (Caterham's) and single seaters whereas yer open face helmet has the advantage of not steaming up (esp. if you wear glasses) and that you can talk sans Darth Vader effect to your terrified passengers. Me - I like the Full face one. "Bob. Pweesssshhh Kah. Turn to the Dark Side, Bob. Pweesssshhh Kah. You cannot believe the awesome power of Pweesssshhh Kah Stuttgart, Bob." etc etc By the way...its a good idea for passengers to bring along a helmet too. The club has (A FEW) helmets that can be hired...but in my experience they dissappear early in the day. The missus was LENT a helmet by a (really decent) club member as the hired/borrowed ones simply weren't returned once used....

YUP! I am currently working out just how it will be possible to add a track car to the stable. Caterham probably. Bugger knows where I'll keep it...Thought of chopping in the S and getting a Cayenne and a trailer. Then I came to my senses and decided to rent the damn thing from bookatrack!

Couldn't help noticing how slow bikers these days are. There I was dawdling along in the sun in the A8, and groups of bikers meandered up behind, then took ages to work up the courage to pass. Which they did one at a time, then settled in as a group behind the car ahead. The better half even remarked at what a waste it was, big bikes being ridden at a pace which I would have decimated on my RD250, never mind my GSXR750 or 1100. The sort of two wheeled hooliganism I used to practice would probably get you a ban in short order these days I guess. What a miserable place the UK is today.

Had 1 of those Aprilia V Twins come past me yesterday just outside Malborough, sounded gorgeous, bit like a Cerbie on 2 cylinders!!!

As Don says, only mandatory piece of equipment is a helmet: make sure you get a BSI/Snell approved one (most good bike helmets and motorsports helmets are). I too favour a full face version. Other than that its up to how much more you want to spend. Most track day organisers recommend long sleeve cotton clothing and thin soled shoes. My shopping list further to the helmet, in order of priority would be: - gloves: your hands will get sweaty , so I find a pair of suede-palmed racing gloves very useful. Of course, you could stick with the string-backs if you insist.... - shoes: flat, thin-soled (like deck shoes) are OK. Alternatively, invest is a pair of racing shoes/boots which are excellent. - race suit: not essential, but a convenient way of being comfortable and not getting your jeans & shirts dirty/sweaty/optimax-drenched. Check out the Grand Prix Raceware online store: your credit card may never be the same again.

Oh Jeremy, you're such a show-off. I bet you have your name embroidered on your racing suit as well, along with all those sponsors of yours (Mogette Appreciation Society Ltd etc.)

Sunday gone, 8.30 AM, pig rolled out, Zymol HD cleanse, applicator pad and microwipe in hand, kneeling mat at the ready. One panel only though, or so went the plan and then a nice pre-dawdler session at mach 2; I'll just shine up the boot, methinks...but alas, by around 2PM, the whole blackness was looking reasonably pukka, if not quite the crowning glory at Palm Beach (too many stone chips for such la-de-da-ism, if you don't mind) and it was time for an irresistable tootle. Sunroof open, windows down, and The Rolling Stones inviting me to paint it black (presumably a reference to rubber on tarmac). But within minutes of leaving DeR Central, it was clear the massed ranks of tossology were having none of it. Not to worry, with all the portals open, it was enough to pootle and enjoy the combined cacophony of the Jagger 'massiv' featuring Ya-Kid-Ferdinand providing the bassline, all suffused with the soft scents of an uncommonly clement day, as I subconsciously referred to the EVO lesson I had read the night before, re. waiting patiently for passive overtaking opportunities. And soon enough, one did arise; the box was stirred, the juices sufficiently fluid and warm; down went the hammer, up went the decibel count, as the locale's most hatefully surfaced B-roads threw all their evil, negative pot-holed camberism at the hard pressed Bilsteins. It was enough for me to cancel a beat or three in the coronary department as the tiny Techart twicthed it's protest but thanks to my blind faith in over engineered chassis control, things quickly resettled back into a less frenetic groove. I was able to enjoy a thoroughly legal progress then, for a good mile or two; revelling in the sheer challenge of driving something with it's engine in such a fundamentally questionable place but really feeling the nuances of the physics involved: such an intimate, loving experience for any with the merest whiff of Castrol in the area of the pituitary gland. Other cars no doubt deliver variations on this theme and I love the notion of a TVR, Noble or Ferrari serving up different thrills in similar circs but there and then, I was happy to be in this one of the other icons. Not a state of poseur's smugness, just pure, unadulterated bliss. But then I hit the convoy of infinite dribble. 35-40 mph in the most blatant 60. If I had been Madcop, I would have pulled over several of the caravanista and summarily exectuted them, Kosovo style, at the roadside, as a warning for other such motoring retards. There were overtaking opportunities for sure but only if your vehicle displayed the GSi insignia along it's flanks. This was frustration of the very worst variety. Doing half the speed limit with 500 bhp aching to have a jog is not what my stressmeisterologist had recommended for that afternoon's therapy. Eventually, we joined the main drag where overtaking was inevitably just a few seconds away. However, I had not factored in the increasingly common, multiple-psycho biker effect. Now normally, I'm a great fan of bikers; fellow 'makers of progress' but thoughtful all the while. Well, not today, sunny Jim, oh no. EVERY Goddam opportunity was being blocked, either by a phalanx of Foggarty progenics firing massively too wide on the approaching carriageway or the Bazza Sheen (RIP) Squad, trying to emulate their hero's current state of being up my frickin' chuff, aggressively penning me in, to suffer the wake of the trilby death party. The sheer arrogance and indeed recklessness of these two wheeled mentallists was in total contrast to my normal experiences so please don't think I'm your usual anti-bike git: frankly, I love 'em. But what IS starting to p1ss me orf is the way many of 'em feel compelled to travel in large fecking groups. You're blocking the overtaking routes you selfish barstewards! So back to the EVO guide: if the traffic's just too bad, so it recommends, abandon that particular route. So I did and proceeded along a much slower, still frustratingly busy, C-road. And what's the first thing that's in the way? Not Mrs.Bouquet in the 1986 Accord 1.4 but Fat boy Zane on his bloody hog, bolt upright with p1ss pot helmet and hard lovin' gross chick riding-a pillion. All low speed, bellicose twin piped wideness and seemingly oblivious to the pent up black blob harrying him astern. Several aeons later and out of sheer exasperation, having indicated and holding sway long enough for him to clock me in the mirrors (you know, the shiny reflective thing protruding from the binnacle?) and it was cog-drop-boot and past. I'm sure there was a moment of rightward shimmy, enough to alarm one or two badgers a la Domster but at least I was past. Through a small local village and then two or three miles of frankly unused, reasonably smooth, MIRA-esque serpentine twisting. This, by contrast, was a pure micro slice of Route Napoleonic joy. Again, largely within the speed limits here, enjoying the simple mechanics of the driving process; low speed hairpins with slow enough entry so that even if things broke, just a little bit, even an ordinary Joe comme moi felt recovery might not be too overwhelming a prospect. The whole 'oneness' of the car felt stupendous and being able to string a few sequences together along what passed for my idea of a racing line, with perfect hazard visibility all the while, was truly the stuff of dreamy test drive imagination. All too soon, though and paradise was lost but unlike Milton's post conjectural repose, I was still faced with the small matter of dispatching the area's only low density m-way and my God, how I hit the 3 lanes running; brain replaying previous forays on the continent and my lust for some extreme helter-schnellter restrained only by the faintest protestations of my licence, hard-wired to the brain cells loosely identified during lobotomised procedures as 'common sense.' Even there, unfortunately, the motoring canon fodder would have been better placed hacking away at the seam than cluttering the highways and byways of what by rights, I arrogantly hereby suggest should be the preserve of Luftwaffian poundage. I say this purely as a result of the seemingly newfound caveat within The Highway Code (Numpty Editon) which appears to render that old triumvirate of mirror, signal & manoeuvre as an entirely unnecessary sequence of impact prevention. Hey-ho. Anyway, the upshot is this, I fear. Trackdays - even I'm resigned to the reality that in practice - they may be the only way. See you at Silverstone in July, eh Don? (You can show me how it's done; I'm sure I'll be quite hopeless.) Chin, chin from the northern wastelands.