{"id":290,"date":"2018-07-24T03:23:00","date_gmt":"2018-07-24T03:23:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/?p=290"},"modified":"2018-07-24T03:23:00","modified_gmt":"2018-07-24T03:23:00","slug":"pit-noir","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/2018\/07\/24\/pit-noir\/","title":{"rendered":"Pit Noir"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"
The Start, preceded by a lot of action. I helped.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

It\u2019s March in central Florida, cool and clear. I get the call from Ed in the late afternoon. A couple of his California friends are racing motorcycles in the 600cc class. He wants me to help them out. The sun is setting low over Lake Schimmerhorn, the sky a blood-orange deepening to cobalt blue high overhead. White, high-persistence contrails cross the sky in an Atlanta-Orlando direction. The scene outside the Love Shack looks like a flag from The Republic of Kodachrome. \u201cYeah\u201d I say, gently pulling the wrapper of a grape Jolly Rancher. The candy rotates clockwise between my fingers. \u201cI\u2019ll go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCool, you met Jeff and Beaver at the retirement party held after the anniversary party,\u201d Ed said. \u201cRemember Torrance?\u201d In the background I hear a machine scraping metal: another of Ed\u2019s big-block Moto-Guzzis. The man can\u2019t leave motorcycles alone.<\/p>\n

\u201cTorrance?\u00a0 Yeah, I remember, my wife said Jeff seemed kind of depressed. Happily married, good corporate job; didn\u2019t he give up racing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did, then he didn\u2019t,\u201d said Ed. \u201cLook for the Baby Appleseed pits. Get there early tomorrow, I told them you\u2019re coming.\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s 38 degrees in the morning. My Italian-era Husqvarna 510 stumbles and stalls, then lights off on the fourth push of the button. I rev the engine and slip the clutch on the Husky\u2019s tall first gear. A sloppy, brapp-brapp snarls out of the pipe and ricochets from aluminum singlewide trailers to sway-backed modular homes. I turn right onto Highway 40. Open the throttle and the Husky\u2019s tachometer rips past 9000 rpm, front wheel climbing on the surge. Two, three, four, five, six, shift as fast as you can, man.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve got to keep the front down. It\u2019s dark. Highway 40 is damp with morning dew. The headlamp flickers intermittently between low beam and parking light, low beam and parking light. It\u2019s a random problem and one I can\u2019t solve. Oncoming cars dip their headlights, thinking I\u2019m flashing them. I wish I could stop and explain Italian motorcycle electrical systems but there\u2019s no time. It\u2019s cold. My hands hurt.<\/p>\n

At the very end of Pit Row the black, the white and red Baby Appleseed logo is splashed across two huge gazebo tents. I guess with Ed involved I expected one rusty Craftsman toolbox and a mid-eighties Moto-Guzzi Alfresco. I\u2019d find Jeff and Beaver slumped over, gently sobbing. Beaver\u2019s greasy jeans would have holes in both knees.<\/p>\n

\"\"
Pit row, Daytona.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the problem, boys?\u201d My confident tone would instantly buck them up. \u201cThe bike has a high rpm miss, Gresh, we\u2019ve been trouble shooting the damn thing for days.\u201d I\u2019d get in there and clean the fuel filter, maybe straighten a bent metering needle and the bike would run perfect, you know, save the day.<\/p>\n

Baby Appleseed\u2019s pit has two mechanics, electric tire warmers and a second rider, Neils, owner of the high-end baby furniture company sponsoring the team. There\u2019re computers to track lap times, 120 volt AC generators and air compressors.<\/p>\n

Both Appleseed motorcycles are decked out in Baby Appleseed racing colors. Back in the dry pits there\u2019s a motorhome with a full-body Baby Appleseed wrap parked in front of a dual-axle Baby Appleseed trailer stocked with Baby Appleseed race parts. The mechanics wear Baby Appleseed logoed race shirts. Jeff has qualified in the front row for race one. To the untrained observer it appears they\u2019re doing ok without me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy wife was worried about you.\u201d I tell Jeff, \u201cAt that party in Torrance she said you seemed unhappy, settling for security.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeff looks at me, grins, \u201cI\u2019m down to 140 pounds, I\u2019ve been training every day, running. You\u2019ve got to be light to keep up with these kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s sort of an Empath.\u201d I explain, \u201cLike Deanna Troy on Star Trek. When I told her you were racing again she got a little teary-eyed.\u201d Jeff nods, unsure of the protocol. I better close it out. \u201cAnyway, people tell her everything, man. I mean, people she\u2019s never met spill their life story within two minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUm,\u201d Jeff says, \u201cTell her I\u2019m ok. Tell her I\u2019m happy.\u201d<\/p>\n

We\u2019re watching the race feed one of the pit monitors. Jeff\u2019s dicing for the lead, the crew is wound up tight. Two laps in, the front tire pushes and Jeff wads the Baby Appleseed bike, a hundred mile per hour get-off. Mostly we see a cloud of dust as the bike tumbles through the infield. It\u2019s hard to tell what\u2019s going on with the monitor. There\u2019s Jeff walking away. Collective relief: \u201cThat\u2019s all right then, we can fix the bike.\u201d I think that was Neils\u2019 dad.<\/p>\n

By the time I get to the dry pits the bodywork on Jeff\u2019s bike is already gone. Every part that sticks out is either broken, bent, or ground off. One mechanic is removing forks, the other removes the mangled sub-frame then goes back to pit row. Neils is still racing. Jeff surveys the damaged bike, \u201cDamn. We don\u2019t need this extra work.\u201d The bike has to be fixed by 7 PM, when the dry pits close. I better help sort things out.<\/p>\n

The bike is down to the frame and motor. \u201cCan I do anything to help?\u201d<\/p>\n

The mechanic stops wrenching on the triple clamps, thinks three beats. \u201cUh, yeah, drain the gas from the wrecked tank.\u201d I grab the tank, \u201cWhat do you want me to put it into?\u201d<\/p>\n

The mechanic looks up again, \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

I hold the tank up, \u201cThe gas. Where you want it?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looks around the pits, \u201c Um, I don\u2019t know, see if you can find an empty can in the trailer.\u201d He goes back to the triple clamps. Jeff is sweeping the work area, picking up small bits of motorcycle. The mechanics dodge around us to work on the bike.<\/p>\n

The trailer is locked. I go back to the pits. \u201cSorry to bug you again, man, the trailer is locked. Do you have a key?\u201d Water runs from a radiator hose into a plastic, 5 gallon bucket.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe key? It\u2019s locked?\u201d Hands dripping, \u201cLemme see if it\u2019s in here.\u201d He searches the top tray of his rollaway toolbox. \u201cDamn, it was here.\u201d He scans the pit area, \u201cI don\u2019t know where it went. Listen, I got to get this radiator off.\u201d<\/p>\n

I find Neils, still in his leathers. He just pulled in after a solid race, finishing 20-something out of 60 bikes. I ask him if he has a key to the trailer.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Sweat runs down his face, \u201cFind my dad, I think he has one.\u201d I wander past the trailer. The door is open. Beaver is inside. There\u2019s an assortment of cans.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich can should I use to drain the gas from the smashed tank?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Beaver replies, putting down two replacement wheels.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to drain the gas from the old tank.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, um\u2026take this one.\u201d Beaver hands me a can.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got a funnel?\u201d The other mechanic is back. He\u2019s sliding a new fork leg into new a new set of triple clamps.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d He stops sliding the leg.<\/p>\n

\u201cA funnel, to pour the gas into this can.\u201d I hold up the can Beaver gave me.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t use that can. Use the one under that pile of bodywork. I don\u2019t want it mixed up.\u201d I move a broken plastic tailpiece and there\u2019s a can underneath. The fill opening is one inch wide.<\/p>\n

\u201cMan, I hate to bug you, I need a funnel.\u201d<\/p>\n

The mechanic stops working on the forks and gives a hunted look around the pit area, \u201cJeff, find this guy a funnel.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook in that box on the rolling tray.\u201d Jeff says. I find three big, red funnels. I fit the funnel and begin to pour the gas from the bent tank into the can.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey! Put a sock on that funnel!\u201d The first mechanic yells at me, putting down the handle bar he was about to install.<\/p>\n

\u201cA sock?\u201d I have no idea what he is talking about. Jeff hands me a cloth filter with a sewn-in elastic edge to stretch over the wide end of the funnel. I fit the filter and pour the gas.<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch what you\u2019re doing!\u201d There\u2019s a puddle of gas on the floor. I\u2019m so intent on not missing the funnel mouth I don\u2019t notice that the tank\u2019s internal vent tube is pissing gas. It\u2019s a like a frigging geyser, man. Tipping the tank upright increases the flow, broadcasting a liberal dose of high-octane race fuel around the pit area. Both mechanics drop their tools and run over with rags. They start mopping up the spill.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe got to clean this up! If the AMA guys see this they\u2019ll freak out, you can\u2019t have pools of gas laying around in here!\u201d<\/p>\n

Beaver appears beside me and guides me by the elbow away from the spill. \u201cCan you give me a hand moving the gear from pit row?\u201d We walk out to the Baby Appleseed tents on pit row, a distance of some 300 yards. Beaver hands me two cartons of water, I walk back to the trailer. Next trip Beaver hands me three tires to carry, I take them back to the trailer, then a big stack of sprockets.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s one of those folding carts parked at the tents. Beaver hands me the portable generator. The damn thing is heavy. \u201cCan I use that cart?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Beaver says, \u201cIt\u2019s easier to carry the stuff.\u201d I move gear back and forth from pit row to the trailer. Late in the afternoon I glance over at the pits, Jeff\u2019s bike is rebuilt and has passed tech inspection.<\/p>\n

The next day Jeff\u2019s rebuilt bike runs near the front all day long and in a photo finish misses the podium by inches. I call my wife with the results. She\u2019s happy, she tells me Jeff is doing what he\u2019s supposed to be doing. The sky turns blood-orange deepening into cobalt-blue high overhead. The Baby Appleseed team is upbeat, they\u2019ve got an entire racing season ahead of them. I only hope they can do as well when I\u2019m not around.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s March in central Florida, cool and clear. I get the call from Ed in the late afternoon. A couple of his California friends are racing motorcycles in the 600cc class. He wants me to help them out. The sun is setting low over Lake Schimmerhorn, the sky a blood-orange deepening to cobalt blue high … Continue reading “Pit Noir”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[66,65],"tags":[69,70,12,68,67],"class_list":["post-290","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-joe-gresh","category-racing","tag-daytona","tag-daytona-pit-crew","tag-joe-gresh","tag-motorcycle","tag-racing"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/290","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=290"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/290\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":295,"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/290\/revisions\/295"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=290"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=290"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/exhaustnotes.us\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=290"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}