Race Day

In the semi-darkness of our small race trailer, track sounds are muffled. Slowly, carefully, I change from a middle-aged woman in shorts & sandals, tank top & straw hat, into a motorcycle racer; second call for my first race of the day was just a few minutes ago. Slick, black underskins, back protector like an insect's wing case, the comforting, enveloping substance of my leather racing suit and boots. Opening the door of the trailer, I'm hit with a wave of light and sound, nearly blinded by the reflection of the sun on my own white-and-blue armor, my ears scrambling to adjust to the cacophony of race day.

I've left my baby outside, in the sun, since lunchtime, to take advantage of the sun's heat. Not for her the cool and damp of the pit garages, where others' cherished bikes sit as if on display. Her tires are almost too hot to touch now. Excellent. They will give confidence where the others' advise caution.

Breathe. Zip the suit up the front, zip the cuffs. Breathe. Helmet on, buckle and check the strap, then the glasses. Breathe. Gloves on, flex the fingers, straps snug. Breathe. Mary and I exchange smiles as I swing my leg over the bike, and I feel the slight bump as she unhooks the rear stand, and the bike suddenly feels alive under me. Gas on? I've written on the fuel tank. My left hand finds the fuel valves, my right thumb touches the starter, and I'm rewarded with the unmistakeable, otherworldly rumble and snarl of a Ducati with a 2:1 race exhaust. Mary kisses her finger and touches it to my chin bar, looking me in the eyes. Time to go.

Slow, first-gear roll, race trailers to my left, pit garages to my right, barely seeing the smiles and appraising looks of friends and spectators as I move toward the track entrance. This is where it all becomes worthwhile. All the debt, the obsession, the work, the hours and weekend days spent in the shop, just to be here. In this moment, I am fully aware that nobody on earth is luckier than I, in the saddle of an elegant little racebike, riding out into the hot pits of the Loudon road course, one of the most technically demanding tracks in racing, with the green flag just moments away.