American Federation of Motorcyclists
Essays written about being a turnworker
#1 This was written mid 1980’s who didn’t
put his name on it.It pretty much describes what happens on a
race day.
#2 By Racer, John Rabasa. Who was too injured
to race but still wanted to help out and learn something new.
#3 Written by Robert Globus about his "New
Worker" expierences.
#4 Written
by K'la about her "New Worker" expierences
#5 Written by Mark White
#6 Written by Steve Brooks - Having a Blast
How to have fun on a Sunday
without really trying!
It's 4:30 AM now. I've just had a great dream interrupted by my
alarm clock (but we won't go into the details!). I force myself
out of bed, take a nice, brisk shower, and throw on some clothes
(no reds, yellows, or dark colors). Do a last inventory of the
items in my backpack: sunscreen, sunglasses, munchies, tech sticker
knife, DieHard hat, gloves, camera.
Yep looks like it's all there! I go out and fire up my motorcycle, then off to Denny's for a Grand Slam before the ride to Sears Point.
On the road after breakfast, the cobwebs clear out. Approaching the Benicia Bridge, I pass a car pulling a trailer with a bike: GSXR, number plate familiar hey, I picked that bike up in Turn 2 last raceday! The fairing was in pieces, but he's put it all back together. An expensive lesson, but maybe this time he'll get at least a couple of laps on those new tires before cranking it. I wave as I pass, he flashes his lights at a friendly scooter.
At the track's main gate, I see Phill's smiling face. Hope it's not too late to claim Turn 2 again it usually fills up fast. "No problem!" he says. Cool. Ease down to Start/Finish for a donut and a cup-o-coffee to take off the highway chill. The usual suspects are starting to assemble, with some new kids who want to try out for the Best Seat in the House. I know they'll get just as addicted as I am.
Back with us after closing the worker gate, Phill makes sure we all have a turn. We gather around for the morning meeting. Doug goes over lessons from the last race or two and brings up the new stuff, like oil from last weekend's NASCAR. Rule 2: Drink Water, better too much than too little. Rule 3: Have Fun! That shouldn't be too hard.
I ride up to Turn 2, dragging my knee at 15 mph. Hohoho. The rest of the gang arrives, we clamp on at least one headset, and figure out where the hardware should go: firebottles, greasesweep & brooms, flags, our personal water and stuff. Our turn marshal reviews the features of this particular turn: impact areas, bike stash points, riders' best attention spots, Great Getoffs From The Distant Past. As we all begin bench racing, suddenly we're a green track!
First practice: the quiet bikes. A couple of laps, then Red Flag! Bambi & Mom spotted, erratically running, around Turn 6. They make it to the trees toward 7 and stay put. Green track again with routine practice, lap after lap without a hitch will we get 3 races in before lunch? With 600 SuperStreet's full grid of 60 bikes, not likely! Turn 2's line is about 3 bikes wide, max.
2 Minute Board. 1 Minute Board. Bikes on course! The glistening, snarling herd stampedes up the hill toward us, and my neck hairs stand up in primitive response to Big Important Stuff. Who's gonna bail? Will I see it in time to do any good? Mainly, Will Big Pieces Hit Me? The wildly painted fast guys in front hardly slow down soon enough to make the turn, braking way late, then experiment with light front ends as they throw over and gas it. I flinch as their knee pucks skish the track, sounding just like fairings. I don't want to stand like a stupid statue if something happens I should be reacting to! All 60 of 'em run right to the outside edge and shoot down the dip to 3A. Whooh. I start breathing again! Every single race starts pretty much like that no wonder we come all the way out here, month after month!
Next race, 750 SuperStreet. Then 650 Twins/Open Twins/Vintage in their 3 wave start. Then lunch! Achmed's Bazaar is Open as everyone trades off diet sodas for real ones, or chips for candy bars. I claim some shade under the bridge. 15 conversations start with "Oh, yeah? In OUR turn, yattayattayatta." I finish early and have time for a pit cruise before we're due back. Lunch is a busy time for mechanics: quick tire changes, fork oil, shock & chain & carb adjustments, everywhere Voop! Voop!. Some very intense tech-types are deep into major motor re-tweaking. I see several riders, leathers loose, grabbing combat naps before their races. I don't suppose any of them missed any sleep, working on their bikes last night! I drop a few bucks in the National Motorcycle Patrol can for their supplies - they deserve it!
Back a the turn, we give the surface a real good look, from way down by One to well into the 3A Dip. Yo! A hose clamp, just off the line! (A hose clamp? Where did THAT come from - left atop the motor, then replaced and forgotten?) Over further, a self-locking nut that apparently forgot the combination! More trophies for the collection our communicator gets. No oil, yet. Good news, 'cause Open GP is first up, and these boys are flat fast! Down below, the they're practicing starts in the hot pit or are they actually blowing up their clutches? Waa-aah-ump. Wee-aah-wurp. Each time some of the more ham-handed do that, it probably takes $3 off their clutch plates. Oh, well, ya lives and ya learns.
I never squid out and drive faster than 45 or so going out to my turn. But even at that speed, I have renewed respect for the skill it takes to be fast on this track. Maybe working a turn should be required duty for aspiring racers: who succeeds? Why? Who blows it, and how? Lines, shifting, brake points and entry speed, it's all right there, and we can learn from both mistakes and triumphs. Oh, the machinery must be pretty perfect, of course. But even with 150 hp and factory gumballs, if you aren't smooth, you aren't in the hunt.
Next race, Formula E-Z. Not for points, just for track time under quasi-race conditions. One bike is obviously slowing right down. I help him out of harm's way. "Bike OK?" I ask. "Dunno," he says, opening the gas cap "It just died." He rocks the bike. I can imagine him doing the math: "Hmm. 10 practice laps, warmup time, 4 practice starts, 8 laps in last race, 3 laps this race so far. Oh, yeah. Duh!"
Except for 5 minor getoffs and a Bambi encore, race day goes nice and clean. Fairings and riders' pride take it on the chin, but the actual chins don't, not today. We all point to Last Bike and gather equipment at trackside for pickup. Back down the steep hill to Start/Finish, tired & toasted, ears buzzing a little despite the U-Try-Um, U-Like-Um dayglo earplugs. Cold sodas y cerveza! Candy, nuts & gas money! Today's bonus freebie: an AFM jogger bottle - cool! Bench Racing Session Two is good: "HOW many haybales? The bike broke in TWO?" etc. Then, with plenty of daylight still left for the ride home, it's time to hit the road again.
But as I leave, I'm already looking forward to the next race
day! Until then, keep the rubber side down!
Yup, that was me in 3a, working the corner since my wrist was busted up from the crash in July. I decided that even though I appreciate our cornerworkers, I wanted to work and understand exactly what they do. So here's my story to tell you what I experienced (and why we're still not doing enough for them!).
I started working Saturday practice with Ron in T4. There were only 2 of us, so there were no handlers to help. There just weren't enough workers to go around! I learned about all the communications that go on during the practice, and how to display flags for riders. It was a pretty uneventful day.
for race day, I was moved over to T3 to help out Erin and Dale. Erin took care of comm, Dale was our handler, and the 1-armed green alien took the flag. Dale worked with me in the morning to work out hand singles between flagger & handler. Little did I know how important this would become during the actual races!
Morning practice had a few events, but none of them major. THEN CAME THE RACES!
One thing is amazing ... the amount of races where people are 3 wide in 3a, running up on the exit curb to try and capture 30th place. I was FROZEN during the start of races watching the sheer numbers of bikes go by. We had a few yellow flags, a few standing yellows, and a few black flags.
But the following event is the one where I realize just how important these cornerworkers are, and what they risk for us to have a good day.
It was the 600 superbike race ... the 1st black flag had already been thrown. then the bikes came out for a warm up lap to restart. just as a bike crested the hill and hit the gas, he lost it (looks like his rear wheel got oiled). Dale was immediately running to look out for the rider while I was desperately waving the yellow. The bike was still on the track to the right, the rider was also on the track to the left. I thought all the bikes were clear, so I put down the headset and started down the hill to help when ANOTHER bike was coming over the hill. Luckily, the rider had slowed enough to see what was going on and was able to split dale, the rider, and the bike.
We rushed as quick as we could, but obviously folks on the grid can't see that. We moved the bike. The rider was fine. We threw down grease sweep, inspected the track, and then finally gave the all clear.
I realized at that time how nervous I was ... 1st for the downed rider, then for dale trying to get to the downed rider, and for all those who came over the hill to see the accident. When it was all over, everything was fine! Dale talked to me later to review hand signals and how we can clear the track quicker. He was soooo calm, and he spent a lot of time helping me understand exactly what they do. He was risking himself just to make sure that all riders would be safe, and still, all 3 of us would cheer everyone finishing the races.
As I finished both days, there were a number of cornerworkers that asked me how I liked it, and my response was always the same: "I can't believe how quickly you folks react to incidents, and how well you all work together for everyone's safety." in addition, I don't know how they do it ... watching race after race without even a 5 minute break. These folks are MORE than dedicated. I felt they welcomed me into the family, more so because I was an injured racer willing to come work with them and understand what they do.
It was a rough weekend watching all my friends race around the track, but it was well worth what i learned and what those folks now mean to me. I may not be back on the track by the next race, but you can sure bet that EVERYONE of them will get a wave of appreciation every time I finish a race (and believe me, they really do like it when you wave!).
Special thanks to Ron, Erin, & Dale for training me in the art of cornerworking. Thanks to Phill & Doug for making me feel welcome to the cornerworker family!
John Rabasa
AFM #789
Over-enthusiastic cornerworker with the green alien!
p.s. I’m taking the money i made for cornerworking
during the weekend, matching it, and will be dropping it into
the cornerworker fund -- and I STILL don't think that's enough!
I sure hope all of you will do your share in showing these folks
how much we appreciate what they do.
Lessons learned my first weekend: Watch your back.
Learn the hand signals. Snatch those tech stickers. As a
brand-new turnworker at the Sears Point AFM weekend, April 2001,
I learned a lot of things about helping manage a motorcycle roadrace.
I would pick these as the most important.
But I get ahead of myself. First, I want to say that
being an AFM turnworker was the most fun I have ever had while
standing up. At a motorcycle race, anyway. I'm 47,
have never raced, but have been a rider for 25 years, and a roadrace
fan for about ten years.
Or maybe longer. I vividly remember when I was about
8 years old (around 1961?), watching a rare roadrace on TV when
the GP races still had a running start; the riders would run across
the track to their bikes parked by the pit wall, and bump-start
them to begin the race. Some started. Some didn't.
It was mayhem. It rocked.
And now I am a participant! Not as a racer or on a
team, but still a vital part of the event -- without turnworkers,
there could be no race. I spent my first weekend in the Turn 4
downhill right-hander, with Dale and Brad as my teachers.
We had about eight "offroad" events; most were classic
low-sides, where the bikes slid out downhill onto the dirt and
the riders sliding behind them. One bike took a tumble but
ended up in pretty good shape; the rider was able to start it
and rode it down the chute to Turn 7. No injuries the first
day, but the riders seemed only able to use words that started
with "F." Adrenaline poisoning, maybe.
A couple of riders took themselves out -- both leaned over
into the turn, the front wheel of one bumped the rear wheel of
the other, and they both slid out. The riders jumped up
and started jawing about what happened, and checking their bikes
-- but the bikes were lying in the dirt about ten feet off the
racing line! I had just run all the way up the hill from
yanking the tech sticker off the last low-sider, so I wheezed
"Let's get these bikes (gasp) out of here!"
The male rider got his bike up and wheeled it down to the
tire wall. I picked up the female rider's bike (a 250 TZ
I think) and was pushing it across the dirt, but it seemed like
there was dirt in the brakes, so it was like pushing it through
sand. And as I was pushing, what did I forget? I didn't
look behind me even once, as Dale helpfully pointed out.
Watch your back.
At the DP Racing School on Saturday afternoon, a student
bumped an instructor off the track who then fell down. No
injury or apparent damage, but the instructor didn't want to give
up his tech sticker. Another first-timer turnworker let
him keep it. The instructor crashed in a race the next day.
Hopefully the instructor was smart (and honest) enough to get
himself re-teched, and the two incidents were not related.
Snatch those tech stickers.
Due to a minor misunderstanding, I was sending the bikes
that ran or could roll down the chute to Turn 7. I should
have only been sending the bikes that could run, and holding the
others for the crash truck. Dale figured it out, and was
showing me the "hold" signal (forearm vertical, grasped
by other hand), but I couldn't remember what the signal meant.
Dale signaled me, I raised my hands like "huh?" and
finally Dale gave up on me. I know Bruce had shown us the
signal, but in the heat of the moment I couldn't remember, and
it was not listed in the turnworker handout.
Learn the hand signals.
The worst crash was during a race on Sunday, a Formula 750
(I think) bike lowsided and spun down the hill. The rider
tumbled over the bike, and was able to get himself up and off
the track. The bike was lying right on the racing line between
Turns 4 and 5. Brad and I were the handlers (Brad is my
hero). We got to the bike to get it up and off the track,
but the racers were coming too fast and too close. The bike
had ended up pointing across the track, so if we could get a break
in traffic, we could just pick it up and push it across to the
inside of the corner.
But there was no break. We'd see a gap that would
last maybe 2 - 3 seconds, and then another pack of bikes would
come down the hill squeezing to the right, way off the preferred
line, to avoid the fallen bike. And Brad and me.
I was making the "push away" signal (I remembered
that one) to help the racers avoid the crashed bike, while Brad
ran up to check out the rider. The rider was nursing
his arm, which he thought might be broken. Brad signaled
for an ambulance, then came back to try to get the bike.
We were still waiting for a signal that there was enough
of a break in the racers for us to move the bike, when Brad noticed
the oil. The bike had slid down the hill, spinning on its
side, and had ground off the side of the engine case. It
looked like Jed Clampett had struck black gold in Turn 4.
We still couldn't safely get the bike, so Brad made the
decision to request a black flag. The race was stopped right
away, and we were able to pick up the bike. I wheeled it
over to the tire wall. I forgot to get the tech sticker
(snatch those tech stickers), but that bike was probably not going
to be racing any time soon.
I ran back (wheeze) to deal with the oil which was flowing
out of the bike and had by now formed a 3 x 6 puddle which was
flowing down the track. The oil looked slightly red, like
automatic transmission fluid.
I grabbed the bucket of grease-sweep and sprinkled it on.
It seemed to contain the spill, but it didn't absorb the oil.
When I tried to sweep it off the track, it just smeared the oil
into an icy-slick sheet between the spill and the edge of the
track, making the slippery area bigger. "I bet it's
synthetic," said Brad, and he was right.
About then, the ambulance and the NSP guys showed up - the
ambulance took the rider, and the NSP truck had synthetic oil
sweep and extra brooms. It took about 15 minutes of hard
sweeping, removing that nasty stuff "molecule layer by molecule
layer" as the NSP guy put it, to clean up the spill.
"AFM should ban synthetic oils," was the consensus
of the crews who had to clean the mess up. "They ban
metallic knee pucks, but this stuff is legal, and it's much more
of a hazard," was another opinion I heard. It seems
to me that at least the bikes that use synth oil should have a
big sticker to identify them, and there should be synth oil-sweep
in every turn. Using the regular sweep on synth oil spills
just makes the problem worse, and wastes a lot of time.
After that, raceday was relatively quiet; plenty of problems
and at least one more black flag, but all in other folk's turns.
Lots of thumbs up and waving to the racers on the cool-down laps
- "Thank you for not crashing in our corner!"
And then, the day was done.
Besides the points I've mentioned (watch your back, hand
signals, tech stickers), here are a few other things that as a
handler, I thought were important:
- Always carry the fire extinguisher with you to a down
bike - you don't want to have to run back for it.
- Wear leather gloves at all times. Race bikes get
hot.
- Don't sit down while bikes are on the track - if you look
up and see a race bike heading straight at you, it takes WAY too
long to stand up.
- Try to concentrate on bike numbers, and which bike is
doing what - if a bike is down, or you see a pass on a yellow
flag (I saw two), or a rider makes contact with another, it is
very important to identify the bike to race control. A pen
and pad is a good idea.
There are a million other things to learn, and many of them
only experience can teach you, like how not to forget everything
the minute you have to actually do something. I think that
the AFM and its experienced workers do a great job of bringing
a new worker up to speed fast.
That said, it would be nice to have a more complete set
of hand signals written down for reference. Also, a quick
guide for the correct words and phrases to use when on comm.
Finally, it would be great if Sears Point cornerworker - campers
could camp in that nice flat area behind the berm near Turn 8
- maybe if we promise to be really, really good?
Anyway, I had a great time. My schedule won't allow
me to make a lot of races, but whenever I can, I'll be there.
Thanks to the Die-Hards for all their help, and everybody ride
safe.
I just wanted to let you know that I had a wonderful "first race weekend" experience and some special thanks need to go to the following senior turn workers for being great trainers and top notch supervisors.
H.D. and John on turn 8 Saturday for showing me the ropes and letting me get some com time.
Dale and Brad on turn 4 Sunday for refining my new skills, teaching advanced turn worker sign language, and letting me practice com as much as I wanted.
The com guys in 5 and 7 for correcting me when I needed it and for their patience as I honed my skills. I enjoyed the pressure and responsibility of it all and hope to rapidly become proficient enough to be welcome on the com by all the seasoned veterans.
As an adrenaline junky all the factors of the weekend proved to be just what the doctor ordered!! I'm hooked and will see you all next month at Thunderhill!!
Sincerely,
K'la
Hello all. Being unable to race yet, I decided to be a turnworker for the Thunderhill race. I have to say it was quite an experience. It was fun, but it was also hard work. I learned a lot just by watching the different race lines people took (I was in turn 9). Probably the most exciting thing I did was chase a flaming bike halfway from turn 9 to turn 10 with a fire extinguisher in hand trying to get him off the track. It was a little funny - we had been trying to alert the rider of the fire starting at turn 3 and turn 9 was the first time he actually noticed we were pointing at HIM. Even then he rode all the way to turn 10 before stopping. I swear I believe that if I were on the track and a turn- worker ran towards me holding up a fire extinguisher and pointing at me I would stop REAL FAST and jump off the bike. I hate the smell of burning leather!
I would highly recommend that anyone who races try being a turnworker sometime. It will give you a whole new appreciation for what they do. And you all should know that when you ride by on your cool-down laps and acknowledge the workers, it means a lot to us. It is really gratifying to the workers to know that our efforts are appreciated by the racers.
mark white
AFM #739
Well, now that I found out that other workers bother you with e-mails, why not me?? I just want you to know that I'm having a ball out there and always looking forward to the next race. I can see how people get hooked on this stuff.
It seems every weekend is full of rich experiences that I'd like to share with you or Sandy or Barb. Questions to ask, situations to make known, etc.I think I'll do more of that as I gain experience, but have been holding back because after 8 races, I still consider myself a newbie out there.
After the races last weekend, Mary apologized for getting on my case earlier, and I told her I didn't notice that, that I want to know when I'm doing something wrong and there's a better way of doing things. And I want to know if my communication (as a handler, mostly) needs improving, according to Barb and Sandy. Eventually, I'd like to be one of the best handlers out there, one that can be counted on to make quick, sound decisions for the benefit of the most people.
Things I learned last week, at Turn 5 entrance: ALWAYS wait for track clearance to cross the track, communicate as quickly as possible rider's condition (that triage is difficult at times), use the INJURED RIDER signal rather than try to decide when an ambulance is needed--let the NMP decide that, except in cases of loss of consciousness or profuse bleeding.
To be honest, one of the reasons I didn't get feedback to Turn 5 comm when #633 went down (the airlifted one), was that I got tunnel vision. When I ran up, his face was VERY blue, which I took as a bad sign. He was begging me to take off his helmet and roll him over onto his stomach, which I knew not to do. I DID unsnap his helmet to relieve pressure on his chin. Anyway, it wasn't until I heard whistle blasts from Turn 5 that it occurred to signal for the ambulance.
As far as clearance to cross the track, I think it is IMPERATIVE for the turn marshal to go over that beforehand. I knew I could see further up the track toward 4, better than the flagger and comm, so I sprinted across on my own. Later I learned that comm would have gotten clearance from 4. Guess I need to trust that communication better.
Well, that's it for now. Again thanks,
Steve Brooks