The continuation of the story behind how I got to ride on the Salt Flats during Speed Week. Part 1 can be found here

Thursday, 8th August – ​first time on salt

This morning we all woke energised, early and ready to drive the 8 miles to the salt flats down the long straight piece of highway that abruptly stops to denote the beginning of the speedway. This is where the famous Bonneville sign is which has been half stickered to death so you can’t actually read all the historical information on it. Nevertheless we also stuck ours up and there was copious photographing and posing before we drove the mile or so on the salts to the pits to set up.

​This was the first time we had been driving on top of the salt and the backdrop of the mountains was just jaw-dropping. It looked like the scenery to a movie, eerie other-worldly colours everywhere, with mountains casting shadows of light amber to dark and putty grey on the crystaline surface of the speedway. There were ominous low clouds too, which added an extra strange feeling to the exposed supernatural place.

​The flats cover 30000 acres so the whiteness all around burns into your eyes. You can get snow blindness it’s so bright. It burns the skin in record time too, factor 50 essential just about everywhere as the sun bounces off the salt and you can be burnt up inside your shorts and in your armpits. 

​Cars, bikes and rockets started to arrive all during the day and we were treated to sights of some amazing machines driving to their pitches. Everyone was friendly, everyone was smiling. This was where they hoped to make history. The air was electric. That, it turned out, was just the problem…

An electrical storm of some magnitude was brewing and it hit in the afternoon with such force it threw us all off-guard. We had put up the canopy and had eaten lunch when all of a sudden, BAM – the wind grew and grew with such speed it felt biblical.

There was thunder lightning and it was upon us, throwing us around like rag dolls. We all hid under the canopy to try and keep it down and protect the bike, all the while screaming at each other to secure the legs while battling Thor in the background (see video adjacent). The rain lashed over us all, soaking us to the core in moments. The temperature plummeted by about 15 degrees and I actually felt cold – very damp and cold on the salt flats that usually reach up to 40 degrees at this time of year! Eventually after battering us for 20 minutes or so Thor found us boring and went away, but the flats were awash with big puddles and the whole place resembled slush. It was a bad omen.

​There are four main components to a successful Speed Week I figured. The bike, the pilot, the weather and the crew. Any one not being optimum would mean the difference between a record breaking run and failure. The weather was going to make the week much more unpredictable for everyone, that was certain.

Friday, 9th August – Inspection crisis

The next day we went back to the flats for breakfast and witnessed more awesome machines arrive. It started to get very hot, more like the mid 30s I was expecting which was good news because we needed the rain to evaporate. But there was a lot of water still to be taken up into the heavens, lots of standing puddles and mushy salt. It had the texture and look of freshly churned up snow in some places, not good at all. The governing body for Speed Week is the South Carolina Timing Association together with their sister org, the Bonneville Nationals Inc. ​

These organisations have in their ranks a bunch of outstanding volunteers who have the final word on behaviour on the speedway and on whether conditions are good enough to run. They also clear all vehicles and clothing, emergency equipment and pilots as fit to ride and provide rookie orientation meetings and starter and course inspectors as well as issuing the timing slips and keeping everyone informed. It’s a crack squad.

Naturally, everything has to pass technical inspection before it can race to ensure safety standards are met and Friday we were due to put Christine into the inspection pit for the all important clearance to run.

Perhaps this time of scrutiny is one of the most scary moment for teams where they feel most powerless. There is a rulebook as thick as your head and if you haven’t done something right, followed it to the letter, you have to fix it or you’re out. Depending on what that is, it can mean the difference between attending and not attending the races. People spend many thousands of dollars to be a part of Speed Week, only to go home empty handed. It is truly a tense atmosphere at the inspection pits.

At Bonneville there are hundreds of records up for grabs because there are hundreds of different classes of vehicle depending on engine size, frame and other modifications. We thought our class was 1000 MPS, but at inspection they said it should be APS – the ‘A’ stands for special construction. This was because the frame’s chassis had been modified so the wheelbase was longer. It was important because the sticker on the bike had to read the class correctly otherwise the record may not stand or you may be disappointed later. Eleanora applied the stickers diligently and made sure we had ‘B’ at the end to denote this was a bike, in case of any doubt.

​Dino spent the morning running over the bike, checking and re-checking bits and pieces. We finally got to tech in the afternoon where they checked all the leathers. They ran over the boots, gloves and helmet as well as confirming there is a fire extinguisher and a CB radio in the truck or trailer.

The CB radio is how the SCTA communicate with everyone to pass out information as well as relay the times to spectators. No worries for us, everything was up to scratch and the inspectors drilled a pin into the leathers that’s a permanent stamp to say you’ve passed. It’s a nice badge, I’ll never take it mine off, although there’s doubt that I actually could, it went on with a hammer and a block of wood underneath.

A nervous start

Then it was Christine’s turn. Anxiously we waited, inspectors checked every inch, the battery, the faring, the exhaust, the chain, the chain guard. Then came the bombshell. The Pirelli Diavolo Supercorsa tyres were classed road tyres and therefore limited to 200 mph. When the speed you want to go at is 239 mph or more, that is more than a blow, that is a catastrophe. Pirelli were sponsors of the bike and had given us the tyres for the record attempt. Something must be wrong here, they would not have given us tyres that were not certified to go over 200 mph. What on earth was going on?

Experts were called. The rulebook was brought out. Clipboards were waved. Time and time again we were told no, there was a DoT sign, these were road tyres. But we knew that they were dual purpose, Pirelli would not have supplied the wrong tyres. We were well and truly at an impasse and getting new boots would be problematic in the middle of no-where. They could be sent over from Italy from the sponsor but we’d lose nearly all of Speed Week, even if they could be sent over within 2 days. We were all stunned, nothing we could say, the situation seemed hopeless.

​Rosaria wandered the pits downhearted and dejected. Dino sat with his head in his hands. Stickers were brought out that limited the bike to 200 mph and were ready to place on the front. The dream was over and we hadn’t even got one run in. Such is the nature of Bonneville, a place where everything can hinge on the interpretation of the rulebook.

Rosaria was talking fast with firey Italian passion to anyone who would listen in the pits, explaining the situation, becoming more and more exasperated. Most were consoling her and sympathising, but then one man overheard and came over. What he had to say would prove to be a game-changer. Waldo was part of Double D Racing team, a group of guys who had raced the previous year and knew the Italian team and had struck up a friendship. They understood the issue well as it hadn’t been the first time they came across it. They too disagreed with the interpretation but in this case, they knew who to call to get a final ruling. The guy’s name was Van and his word on tyres was gospel. Van was sent for for. 

The final ruling

A tense few minutes during which some eyes were starting to regain a tiny flicker of hope. Van, a thick-set man with short brown hair came over and knelt down by the bike. His actions were slow and deliberate, like a man who knew the gravity of the situation and was paying it the kind of respect a priest would at a funeral. He poked and prodded and looked for marks. He span the back tyre around a few times. He asked a few questions. Then he stood up and uttered the words in such a casual tone it seemed like he was just asking to have fries with his burger, “Yes. They’re good. They’re good for over 200.”

A hushed moment of silence, then everything erupted. There were shrieks of happy laughter and hugs and everyone was laughing and the mood was instantly lifted. It was like hearing a baby cry for the first time after being born. (See the video above for the moment we captured.) From that point on, we were in party mode. No other issues with the bike were found and we rocked out with a stamp on the bike which was the seal of approval.

This whole experience had us all on a knife edge but, fortunately, it had a happy ending.. Waldo and team were the saviours that day and were showered with offers of food and T-shirts and merchandise for their part in the continuation of the dream. They were very cool about it, they didn’t want fuss, they were doing it because it was the right thing to do. They just asked that one day we pay it forward and do a good deed for someone else one day. I already have :-).

That evening we relaxed and got an early night. There was some bad news delivered though – Speed Week would not be starting the next day as it was scheduled to, Saturday 10th, because of the condition of the courses. The best way to keep informed on the flats is via social media and the night before racing important updates are shared. In this case, the salt was still pretty wet and it needed to dry out so the decision was taken to postpone starting. It was a blow but the Driver’s meeting session In the morning was still on and it was important to attend as it signalled the beginning of Speed Week.

Saturday 10th – Tension builds

At 9 am Saturday we found ourselves on the Salts amongst a fairly large crowd of over a thousand. Pretty much all the competitors were gathered there. We were being given information about the do’s and don’ts of Speed Week and a run down on what was being done to protect the salt flats. After that there was the all-important hats off and hands on heart respectful silence to the national anthem which was sung by a lovely lass in one of the towers.

​From that point on the day was ours and again there was posing for more photos and hanging around the bike. The social aspect was clearly an important part of Speed Week. I personally don’t give two hoots about fashion shoots, but the Italians needed to get them done and clearly loved it. They did it well, it has to be said.

The weather was hot Saturday so we were hoping to hear from SCTA that we were good to go Sunday, but late in the evening we got word that the courses just weren’t up to it. Still too much mush. Crap. But there were still five more days to Speed Week and in fact, we only needed two. The reason two and not one is that to qualify for a record you need to do the run twice. In between runs, the bike or car needs to be held in impound overnight. You get a small window of around four hours to maintain the vehicle but that’s all. Still,

​Dino was going to have to get the record in the bag early on if we rookies were in with a run, that was dawning on me. We still had time, but not a lot. We heard that the organisers believed there was a ‘better than average’ chance of us running Monday so we all took that as pretty much a go sign and made the most of another Sunday on the salts, doing the odd product placement for sponsors and generally meeting folks and talking around the camp. Not quite camp fires, but camp BBQs were everywhere. It was an amazing atmosphere.

Sunday 11th – Still no closer

It was another great shock to hear from the grapevine Sunday night that Monday’s racing was still a no-go. The whole scenario was getting precarious. Some had already left the salts because they were only there for the weekend, others were frustrated and the mood seemed lower. Even though we spent our day taking photos and milling around the motorhome as well as seeing friends in different camps, time was dragging and my fears were mounting that I wouldn’t get a run in at all.

One cool thing that we arranged that morning was a live link up with the famous Bike Shed in the UK. My good friends from touring, Miles and Zoe, knew the Shed owners and had arranged for me to beam in live from the salts and chat. I would simultaneously appear on Facebook and on a big screen in London. 

My motivation

So here’s some context of my being at Bonneville. I really wanted to ride the bike once on the salts, just for the experience. This would then be something I could talk about when I gave presentations to people, either at schools or universities or anywhere who would be interested really. The message I wanted to convey was about how you can be anything you want to be if you put your heart and soul into it and believe you can. You shouldn’t let society or others or even your own self-limiting talk get the better of you and stop you from your dreams.

My story was to demonstrate that point. I got to Bonneville in just three short years of riding a bike, with no experience of riding anything fast, ever. In fact, I was afraid to go over 50 mph just two years before. I wanted this experience to take to others, with the only aim to inspire them to get out and do stuff. To counteract the illusion that acquisition of ‘things’ brings happiness. We know it’s relationships, achievement and effort that reaps the best rewards. So riding on the salts was the culmination of this chapter of my story, how I got there was pretty extraordinary, but getting there and running on the salt was the ending I wanted. It was super important to me because I hoped it would in turn be a catalyst for change in the lives of others.

Monday 12th – Rookie

Orientation

Orientation is a critical safety feature at Bonneville. Getting to ride a bike or car on the salts fast is dangerous and subject to strict codes of conduct, for the racer and their team to adhere to so the rules are that pilots do a single run, up to 149mph, to show you can ride according to the rules. You can go as slow as you like, the fact that you followed the process is what matters. A good clean run means you get awarded your licence to race in category E at Bonneville, so up to 124mph as long as you have a valid ordinary licence. If you want to go faster, then you’re set to work your way up the licence categories. Category D allows you to race between 125-149mph, Category C between 150-174mph, Category B is for 175 to 196mph, Category A for 200 to 249mph. The unlimited category is for drivers who go 300 mph and faster.

The orientation took us a good couple of hours for me, Maurizio and Rosaria (Dino did his last year) and included a ride around the track. It’s essential – it demystifies the whole experience and you get to see close up the markers by the side of the track denoting the quarter and full mile points and the condition of the salt underfoot.

​It seemed pretty certain that only two tracks would be open, the third, the rookie course seemed to be in bad shape and so the rookie run was moved over to what is called the Short Course, which is a five mile course with timed portions between 1st and 3rd Mile. The Long Course is 8 miles, and is timed over various points between 1 and 5 miles. How you exit from the course and how you signal you have problems is something you need to be sure to learn. By pulling over to the left or right you could be signalling an emergency. Subtle cues but incredibly important.

Technically, emotionally and physically we were all set to go, but were nervous that Tuesday would be another ruling against any racing. The weather had seriously improved and had done so since the storm, it must have been around 35-40 degrees at points in the day but the humidity was higher than average, in the 60% range. Rosaria had recalled last year’s humidity didn’t barely make it to double figures. The salts can be unpredictable and extremely varied, it’s a wildcard aspect of the races. During 2014-2015 they weren’t open at all.. just think of the disappointment to those racers looking to break records, lives put on hold, at the mercy of the elements.

There has been a lot of environmental change to the lake bed since racing started in 1912. The upper crust has been disappearing, in earlier times there used to be a crust of around 5 feet but that’s reduced down to just a few inches in places. Subsequently, there is a program to pump salt brine onto the flats which will eventually see 1.5m tonnes of salt pumped in a year. This is supposed to replenish the underground aquifier that supports the crust volumes so they increase in thickness. It’s an ongoing battle and, if not kept up, racing may be a thing of the past on the flats.

Tuesday 13th – Dino gets his chance

We were having our evening meal Monday evening when the good news came in. There were two courses open for racing Tuesday out of three. This was great, all we needed was for Dino to go on the Long Course and go all out for the record. But having fewer runs meant that everyone was going to be queuing for just two courses. Dino was determined to get to the road where the flats were by 0430 in the morning, to start to queue along the long, straight stretch of road that led up to the speedway. The speedway was always empty at night, it was due to open at 0630 but the road towards it was always busy by then so effectively you had to queue much, much earlier.

Tuesday morning and as predicted, the queues stretched for miles. I joined it with Josh, Leonardo and Alessio, the guys who I was sharing the hotel room with, at around 8am and Dino had just about got to the front and onto the salt flats and we were about two miles behind. An hour or so later we had arrived and found Dino in the queue.  A long way back.

​Everywhere on the salts was incredibly busy with hot rods, muscle cars, cars that looked like rockets, bikes and other amazing contraptions. All queued for miles around. It was clear this was going to be a long day for everyone, not helped by the reduction of courses down to two. We parked up and located Dino, the trailer and the truck. It’s forbidden to ride anything under its own power on the salt flats if it’s racing, so you need to have a form of transport to get it to the start line.

​The rules are also that if you’re a biker you need to suit up and have your helmet on at least by the time you’re third in the queue to run.  Well, that wasn’t going to be necessary anytime soon.

So we waited. And we waited. Finally, mid afternoon we got close to the front. Dino was tense, he’d got himself ready early and was suffering from the heat. Eventually he relaxed when the Magnificent 7 theme tune came on the motorhome radio, the tension lifted a little, good old Elmer Bernstein. A final hug from Rosaria and we edged closer to the start line. Then it was his and Christine’s turn…

TO BE CONTINUED… Dino’s run and what happened next?