Ever wanted to know what it’s like to be in a motorcycle race in the middle of a pack of 25 angry men who don’t want to get passed by a chick? Well, here’s some onboard footage for you from my last race.

B Superbike on my Yamaha R6, October 2, 2011, Las Vegas Motor Speedway. I finished 10th. Full race report coming soon!

So Alex at Fastline Cycles pulled my motor apart, the one I broke at Willow Springs on Saturday, September 17, the day before I raced Nikki’s bike and had a mechanical…AGAIN.

Apparently a ring got really hot, popped off and created a ruckus in the cylinder. Observe.

From my CSC Willow Springs race, September 18, 2011, when I had to borrow Nikki’s bike because I broke mine. That’s a screw that fell out of the airbox. But I bet you knew that.

Writing this one on my way to Vegas. Mom is driving the Sprinter van and we just left Kettleman City. I’m super duper ridiculously excited, because my mom and I haven’t had a road trip for years, and she’s only ever been to the track with me once. Oh yeah, and she’s never been to Vegas!

So anyway, I heard from Louie at L&L Motorsports Saturday night that my motor was not able to be fixed for Sunday. So. Nikki’s bike it would be; thank god for good friends and good bikes. While Facebooking and texting and doing all that crap before going to sleep at night, we saw that Frankie Garcia, Corey’s right hand man at CT Racing Pirelli, enjoyed playing with Nikki’s bike while we were away. He was storing it for us in the Pirelli trailer, so we didn’t mind so much.

That morning I started to feel a lot more comfortable on the track, and on her bike. Nikki’s got a good bike. To help keep me focused and calm in the face of an unfamiliar bike, I kept reminding myself that it was a perfectly good motorcycle; it had brakes, it had a throttle, and it turned and generally went where I told it to go.

Practice yielded 33’s, not record pace, but it wasn’t totally depressing. The usual rule of thumb is you tend to lose about two seconds off your practice pace during a race, so that would put me back to 31s, which were my best laptimes here last year. On a bike I wasn’t familiar with, I was pleased by that.

The first race was some boy race. The WSMC classed are all pretty unfamiliar to me. Mod Prod this, Super Stock that, BOTT, it was all like another language to this AFM chick. But it was some 600 or 750 race. I tried to hang on to the lead group for as long as I could, then fell back a little bit, but didn’t get passed by anyone else.

After four of eight laps the fuel light came on; on my R6, when the fuel light comes on, I have about a lap and a half before the bike gets parked on the track to helplessly wait for the crash truck to pick it up. Yep, this might have happened to me once before. So, we had maybe not put enough fuel in for this strangely fast, unfamiliar racetrack. I didn’t want to risk having my bike stuck out there during the women’s race, so I pulled in on the fifth or sixth lap. NBD.

While I was reviewing laptimes from that race, and before the women’s race, Dennis, the WSMC timing and scoring guy, pulled me aside to ask what happened. I told him the bike was low on fuel. “You know, if you had just parked in the hot pit and then crossed the finish line on the checkered flag lap, it would count as a ‘finish’ instead of a ‘DNF’” (did not finish).

I didn’t care really about officially finishing or not finishing that race, but I thanked him for the information and went back to my pit to get ready for Formula Femme. On my way I stopped and visited with Bryce Prince’s dog, Scout. One of the cutest little dogs at the racetrack, Scout likes to ride on the Princes’ scooter and is often seen watching Bryce leave and come back from the track, or napping alongside their sweet rig. Here he is showing me his fearsome growl:

Finally it was time for Formula Femme. I remembered at the last minute that I wanted to get video, most likely of Krystyna kicking my butt, and Nikki helped me fumble frantically with the GoPro after second call. Once we had it on there, it seemed really wiggly, and Nikki was trying to safety wire it and I started to get nervous – I didn’t want to miss the warm-up lap. So I chucked it and off I went.

I got the jump on Krystyna on the green flag, but then bogged the bike and Kubranski beat me to turn 1. She’d been turning 29s in practice that day, so I was pretty sure I’d only see her for a little while and then be riding my own race.

But, in utter disbelief, I was hanging on to her. I’d come up on her in 3, a hard braking turn before going left up the hill into “The Omega.” I’d come up on her into 5, a hard braking left (I’m sensing a theme) back down the Omega. And, most shockingly of all, I’d come up on her into 9, the absolute bitchiest part of the turn 8/turn 9 complex where the big sweeping right tightens dangerously up before spitting you onto the straightaway.

She’d feed me her dust for a while on the straightaway, but then – whoa – there she was again, as we were braking into turn 1, another hard braking left.

Round and round we went for a few laps. I started greedily plotting where to pass her (remember, I didn’t even need to win this race in order to win the California State Championship). I almost showed a wheel on her inside going into 3. I really should have set up an outside pass there that would turn into an inside pass into 4, but I wasn’t really thinking clearly.

As I was chasing her down through the turn 7 kink, a wide open, pinned, getting ready for Turn 8 “non turn,” I started preparing to throw the bike into turn 8. I let off the gas briefly, awaiting the familiar nose dive of my bike that would change the geometry such that the bike would turn more easily at speed, but the gas kept on coming.

I had a stuck throttle. Like, a Toyota stuck throttle. Gas on, no gas off.

It was almost the perfect place on the track to experience such a nightmare, because you don’t need to decrease your speed much to take the turn. But at 120 miles an hour, it’s a situation that requires immediate and accurate attention.

I grabbed the clutch and awkwardly put my right hand up and coasted off the track. Trying to put the bike in a lower gear did nothing, the throttle was still stuck wide open and screaming like a banshee. I found neutral and hit the kill switch. Once I came to a stop near the hot pit wall and saw Nikki, I burst into tears.

Stuck throttle. I’m sorry. Broken bike. I was gonna get her. I’m so sorry. Wahhhh. I’m sorry I’m sorry. Wahh. I was scared by what had happened, I was beside myself that I had possibly damaged or hurt my best friend’s motorcycle, and I was still amped up with adrenaline and fight, wanting to beat the pants off (not literally, of course) my awesome friend Krystyna on her home track.

Fortunately, the conversation with Dennis stuck with me, and Nikki and I forlornly watched Krystyna finish the race until the checkered flag came out. We pushed the bike across the finish line so we could at least get our “finish.” Third out of three. I hoped it would be enough to win the championship, but I wasn’t sure.

We tried to start Nikki’s bike and it made bad sounds; screaming throttle, but only if we actually were able to get it to start. I was dismayed, but I quietly held it in like I always do. We decided to just pack everything up, pop open the champagne, and watch the rest of the races while our championship fate was decided.

It was so hot. Someone had too much champagne and drunkenly longed for a cool couch to lie down on. We were waiting around for the Guardian Realty CSC banquet, which would start when the races were over. So we toddled over to timing and scoring to say hi to Dennis, and Shandra Crawford, the race series’ organizer, was up there putting the finishing touches on her beautiful, creative trophies.

I was too hot and tired to even think about it and collapsed in a cool corner of the room, but Nikki (the best friend a friend could ever ask for) went to talk with Shandra, came back, and told me that I won the overall championship.

I still felt awful and sad about Nikki’s bike. I felt like all I do in life is break motorcycles. Was it something in my riding style? Was it something at that track? I didn’t know. I felt bad. My wallet felt bad. I was bummed that I broke my bike too.

We had a nice time at the banquet. Nikki placed fifth in the overall Formula Femme championship, from placing well at the first two CSC events. We sat with Bryce Prince, James Randolph, Mike Pond, and their respective crew members. Here’s me and Nikki collecting our loot:

So, sad, but happy. I had set a new personal best laptime of a 1:30.4; on a bike that wasn’t mine, I was pretty pleased. And grateful as always to the sponsors who help me place so well at these events:

Alex Torres at Fastline Cycles
Andy Chung at ACT Racing; Factory Protection at Privateer Prices
Nikki Nienow, Pretty Blonde Mechanic and BFF
Louie from L&L Motorsports
Corey Neuer and Frankie Garcia with CT Racing/Pirelli
Leo Vince USA
Arai Helmets
Mission City Signs, Vehicle Graphics in Campbell, CA
G&B Cycle Pro, Santa Rosa, CA