Hey Everitt, Peter, and Everyone,
Looks like things are happening here faster than I can juggle them. I will be back at Laguna Seca, and thank you for the offer of the Motorhome. I might take you up on that if things "get out of hand"
Peter, Paddock Passes are only sold for the USGP, and I think it's incredible. Not only are these areas off-limits at all other races around the world, the Laguna atmosphere - and the fact that the entire MotoGP contingent is crammed into a small space, really make it easy for people to really soak it all in. I can only say that I've been very lucky when it comes to getting where I've gotten. With all the positive energy that I put out, it is gratifying to see that some of it returns to me. Karmically, I feel like I give a lot to the sport, and to have it come around (via hard work, dumb luck, and all the great people I've met) is absolutely awesome. As for you not being able to see when you're in full tuck? Keep trying
Bear in mind these fuel cels, windscreens, etc, are all custom fitted to the rider, and there are sometimes "pockets" in the tank to fit the bottom of the chinbar of a helmet, or specially cut windscreens to accomodate the pilots. Perfect examples of "fitted" bikes can be seen with the Hondas, which have smaller tailsections and really cut-down windscreens for certain riders. You need to look pretty hard, though.
Time for the Le Mans wrap-up, because the next couple weeks I have too much business to take care of and I honestly don't know where or what I'll be doing.
Saturday at the races was great, and I took full advantage of my freedom by seeing and experiencing as much as I could. I helped the kids pitch
Casa de Le Mans, before heading out of the circuit to drop a friend off at their hotel. The town's restaurants close up pretty early, before 11:30 even (sissies), but I wanted to spend the night cruising the campgrounds, anyway. Just getting out of the track was a nightmare, as all the seriousness of the day had disappeared, and the French were drunker than I've ever seen anyone! Literally, they were like zombies, and as I inched my way through the huge crowds just wandering through the circuit's roadways, flashing my highbeams and honking my horn, I wouldn't be lying if I said it was like Night of the Living Dead. It took people forever to realise there was a car behind them, and a couple (well, more than a couple) would rock and shake our car as I drove by. A particularly roady bunch put their beers on the car between the windshield and the hood and climbed on, oblivious to the danger that my driving presented. Priceless. It was a lesson in patience to get away from everyone, but coming back to the track was even better. I figured out how to get to power down the way I wanted it to, and in all the track's tunnels I pulled huge smokey burn-outs, the squealing tires alerting the zombies that I was a'comin' through!
