Longtime CLASS instructor Ted Holman has gone racing just for fun with Reg and a couple of our other CLASS instructors in the AHRMA Sound of Thunder® series. The guys are riding basically stock RC51s that have been prepped with race body work and slicks. They had their first race recently at Willow Springs and plan on participating in the Mid Ohio and Barber Motorsports Park events. Here is Ted's lighthearted recollection of their first race at Willow...

Willow Springs, April 30th

Photos courtesy various pit tootsies. Riding shot by Ian Donald.

Catch a lap on Video here: 5 megs or 3 megs

Friendship is a multifaceted, liquid sort of process that we all get to share with special people, people who normally think the same as we do. Friendships sort of support our lives, encouraging a feeling of comfort in behavior and activities that we explore and reside in. Once in a while, friends lead us down a slippery slope that seems to gain momentum as we back pedal, finally letting go and hoping for the best and survival. I am sure that there have been many a first time CLASS student who has felt that way as they rolled their bike onto the track for that first sighting lap, early in the morning, nerves standing straight up through their riding gear. “Did I leave anything undone at home that will need both hands next week?” seems a common pattern, at least it did with me last weekend at Willow Springs with my good friend Reg.

As I sat on the front straight, surrounded by real race bikes and riders half my size and age, I wondered if there was anything I was going to have to lift next week and if it could be done in a walking cast. Reg was right behind me, on my right, grinning. John was just ahead of me, on the front row, frantically looking at his wife as though he would never see her again. Fred, well Fred was not going to get any worse, he was headed to the hospital already. THE HOSPITAL!!!! What was I doing here? 

Then I saw the 2 board go sideways. It was instantly calm around me, there was no noise, no thoughts, just the flag leaned against the flag tower. I was going to get the hole shot. The flag moved and I was gone, right behind this Ducati 999R that must have used a flight deck catapult. I was second into turn two. I was still up. I was racing and it was the greatest thrill I could imagine, tipping into two, still ahead of Reg! I was ahead of Reg, the goal post of my riding career for over thirty years. I was racing, I was still up and I was ahead of Reg. Hot damn! I picked up the pace as the tires warmed and was still second going into turn 8 when the second 999R swept under me like I was parked. Oh and then I was in the deep end of the pool with a brick on each foot as I looked for a reference point in turn 9. What was I doing here? How far would I skip if I rode off the track going onto the front straight? Where was Reg? Behind me still. All right, I was on the front straight and pinned. I was still ahead of Reg! I was alive and ahead of Reg. OK. Lap two went well, still scared to death of turn 9, but still ahead. I had him! I set up for turn 1 and out of the corner of my eye, I saw this red bike drift by. It was Reg. I was alive and behind Reg. OK, this was just temporary, I knew I could get him back, but then he started to pull away. This was not how it was going to be, not after all the needling and teasing I had put up for the past month from all the CLASS instructors, no way! I upped the pace and slowly caught up to him and then turn 9 again. He was away. I slowly caught up to him again and the same thing happened once more. Turn 9 was waiting with open arms and it felt like a blind date going very wrong. That was all I had and that was all I was going to give.

It was at this moment that I realized I had reached my own comfort zone. There was more there, more speed, more entry speed, but it was like looking at a huge piece of pie, it was more then I could swallow. I think Reg was there also as he never really gapped me more then a hundred feet for the remainder of the race. Reg came in third and I was fourth. It was sort of anti-climatic crossing the finish line, the race had been decided six laps prior, but I had given it my all. John survived, in fact rode better then I have ever seen him ride, what a stud! The trip back to the pits for us was pretty cool, riding through the pit area because we belonged. I had just raced, in fact with one of the AMA’s all time legends, Reg Pridmore. He had lead me to the edge of the canyon very slowly and allowed me to look over the side without falling. He did it as my friend and for that I will never be able to thank him enough, for letting me look at the edge of riding and return home in one piece. Getting a hug and embrace from him after the race was better then any trophy or prize I could have won.

Now if he would only stop calling at 6:00 each morning to say, “Got ya” and then hanging up. Friends…..what are you going to do?