Who fancies a three mile walk?

When I was asked if I’d mind helping my brother out while he was working at WSBK at Donington last weekend, I said I would be more than happy to. I mean, I was going anyway. It’s down the road from where I live and it’s my favourite currently in-use racetrack.

 

So when he said I’d be getting a media pass with pitlane access I nearly shat myself both ends.

 

I’ve been to Donington a few times over the past ten years or so as a spectator, and anyone who I’ve raced online there will tell you that I’m no stranger to the track on the inside, too.

 

Major bonus is that I get to spend a few days with my brother.

 

After much over-excitement, Wednesday night finally arrives and a car-load of motorbike racing journos in the shape of girlracer turn up demanding hot drinks in exchange for a Jared. The deal was done and much chat was had.

 

Come Thursday morning we were trying to decide whether getting the skybus was going to be our best way of getting to the track to pick up our passes when girlracer phoned and offered us a lift to the media accreditation cabin. Win. I can’t think of a better bunch to be squeezed up in the back of a car with.

 

After we’d got our passes sorted out, we headed up to the media centre to bagsy a bunch of desks together and record the press conference. Then it was out to the grid to look at some bikes pointing the wrong way and hobnob with some riders and Kevin Wheatcroft. This was the first time I’d ever stood on the track.

“Who fancies a three mile walk?” says I.

 

Whilst I’m not sure if we were supposed to be allowed to explore the track or not, nobody had been instructed to stop us and that was all the excuse we needed. We set off around the track backwards, Jared and Mike looking for viable spots to photograph from and exploring their new lenses.

 

The entire track was identical except that the esses had been reconfigured to be more open, and the pitlane entrance had been moved back before the final corner; two changes I am not against in any way.

On Friday we got the skybus to the event, ready to watch some free-practice and the first round of qualifying. The weather was gorgeous, so there was much sitting around in the paddock between sessions, listening to the junior classes buzzing and humming their way around the circuit. This is when I fell in love with the Aprilia RRV450 – a lovely little race bike, all tiny and 450cc of V-twin rumble.

When Superbikes practice started, I was allowed into the pitlane. This is what I signed the disclaimer for, people can get knocked over and hurt here. So naturally I set about taking as many pictures as I could, most of which turned out rubbish because I’d brought the wrong lense. Yeah, I’m not a photographer. My lack of interest in the technical side of the whole picture-taking thing really shows in the difference in quality between my photos and those of Jared or Mike.

However … it’s pretty difficult to take a shit picture when you’re on the pit wall leaning through the gaps that teams use to hang the pit-boards out of.

Although I did my best, apparently.

 

This was the first time I had ever been in a live pitlane.

 

Saturday was much colder, and a lot less sunny. All those who got sun-burn on Friday died of hypothermia on Saturday. It was bastard cold. So to ease off the chill, I went to explore and get some sights & sounds experience. One thing you probably didn’t notice on TV was that most of the infield where I have previously sat and watched bikes from is now building site. To say they were working on getting the track ready right up to the last minute is no understatement; on Thursday we saw people painting white lines and washing muck off the track surface.

During qualifying and practice I was back in the pitlane, dodging bikes and mechanics. this time with what I hoped was the right lens for the job.

I wasn’t allowed anywhere special during Superpole. So long as you don’t count the media centre with the international feed shown on big screens with live timing on other big screens as anywhere special.

This was the first time I had ever watched a Superpole with live split timing visible for all riders at the same time.

 

On Sunday, it was cold again. And because of an accident in an earlier race, the pit-walk was very much limited to about ten people with huge queues of folks who had bought tickets for it left standing at the gates demanding to know why they weren’t allowed in, and having had their tickets checked and taken off them, were pretty pissed off that they weren’t going to be able to get a refund. I was turned away at the gate regardless of my press pass, such was the vehemence with which they weren’t letting any more people in.

So I snuck round the back way and got in anyway, but as they were already shouting at people to leave, and herding them to the exit I decided there wasn’t really anything to see.

Meanwhile, round the back of the pit garages, I found what I’d gone to pitlane looking for.

When the racing was actually happening, Jared came back from his spot trackside (I swear he only did it to make me stop watching the race and make him a cup of tea) and joined us in the media centre. At the end of the race he suddenly jumps up and runs off literally dripping with cameras. When he gets back he asks me why I didn’t go to parc fermé. I didn’t know we could do that!

 

Between races, we went and met up with a crowd of lovely twitter folks and pratted about in the public areas with a huge flag and even huger grins. Then we went off in search of more paddock ladies to bother with our cameras.

 

Which I shall now include as I know it’s what you really came here for, and if you’ve read this far then consider this your reward!

BUT of them all, of all the paddock girls I saw, spoke to, photographed, laughed with … these two were my favourites:

Anyway, back to the other thing …

 

When race two finished I was ready to jump up and rush over to the pit lane and grab a place next to the winners’ box. I shook hands with Carlos Checa, I hid my camera from the champagne spraying from the podium, I witnessed a very emotional winner overcome with tears of joy, I even gave my place to a reporter who wanted to interview one of the guys.

But more than all of this, I stood next to a proud team of mechanics as they balled out their national theme tune.

This was the first time I had ever witnessed a podium celebration first hand.

 

At this point I’d like to thank motoracereports.com for the amazing weekend. It is to you I dedicate this article as it is thanks to you I am able to. Every day had a first time thing, and every day they just kept getting bigger and bigger, more of a thing.

 

Without you, I would never have been able to do this: