Smooth operators - experiences at motorcyclist Freddie Spencer's High Performance Riding School - includes racing tips

Men's Fitness, July, 1998 by Bobby Lee

Two days spent at an elite road racing school turn a writer into a rider - and teach him the secrets of smooth motoring

My motorcycle is barreling out of turn nine onto the front straight, its throttle pinned against the stop, my eyes fixed on the speedo as the needle sweeps toward the century mark faster than any car I've ever driven. By the time I tear my eyes off the gauge and look up, I'm way past the first set of braking markers and deep into sphincter-slackening "I'm gonna crash" territory.

I pop out of the full-tuck racing position, and my body acts like an airbrake as the wind slams into me at 100 mph. I grab the front brake, simultaneously double-tapping the shift lever down two gears into second, hoping that the combined forces of air resistance, a kung-fu grip on the brake lever, gumball-sticky Michelins and engine compression will slow me down enough to make it through turn one, a sharp 90-degree left-hander.

The bike dives onto its front suspension and the rear wheel shudders from the sudden and violent weight shift. I throw the bike onto its left side, into the turn's jaws, and wait for it to slide out and throw me to the ground. It doesn't. I grimace anyway and think, Damn, old habits are hard to break.

That's OK, though, because breaking bad habits is why I'm here - 10 miles outside Vegas in the barren red-clay desert, enrolled as a disciple of the Master of Speed, Freddie Spencer, and his team at Freddie Spencer's High Performance Riding School. Spencer is a three-time 500cc World Grand Prix road racing champion, and his school is the ultimate motorcycle learning ground, whether you want to race or just ride faster.

Day 1

Day one unfolds under dark clouds, gusting winds and a cold, steady rain. Our first task is getting acquainted with the track - by van, not cycle. Instructor Nick Ienatsch, a national-caliber road racer and international moto-journalist, provides a running commentary as we take slow laps, introducing us to racing principles and demonstrating the importance of picking the correct lines and maintaining smoothness through corners.

"Notice how we all have to hang on and lean in our seats if I enter the corner too low and have to hold a tight line through it," Ienatsch says. "Now notice how the van tends to sit more upright when I enter the corner high and turn in late. That's what we want to do on a motorcycle."

After the tour, it's lecture time. Ienatsch and Spencer explain the day's drills and the reasons behind them. Then they launch into a short physics lesson addressing acceleration, deceleration, G-forces and center of mass, and how all these things affect the smooth operation of a motorcycle.

"Being fast isn't about stopping and then going. It's about going. It's basic physics, the whole 'an object in motion tends to stay in motion' deal," Spencer says. "People never realized how fast I was lapping during races because I tried to make my riding as uneventful as possible."

Post-lecture, nine other students and I don 20-pound racing leathers and anxiously march outside to our assigned Honda CBR 600F3s. Every bike is equipped with racing tires, modified suspension and exhaust; half of them boast full race pipes, modified carburetors and onboard monitoring equipment capable of spitting out detailed information about lap and split times.

We take a few laps to warm up the tires, then it's time for drills. After working on turn entry-points, cornering, smooth throttle action and squeezing the brake lever rather than grabbing it, we are let loose on the track to run laps as fast as we dare. Because the weather is damp and puddles still dot the pavement, I focus on applying some of the skills we've learned and not giving into the temptation of doing kamikaze laps like some of my classmates.

Day 2

A clearing desert sky, drier asphalt and completed preliminaries mean one thing: My second eight hours of instruction will be faster. After another short classroom session, we hit the track to practice the first day's techniques and work on picking braking points, blipping the throttle while braking and cornering, and double-apexing turn number two.

We spend the morning doing tightly controlled drills as Spencer and Ienatsch, stationed at different corners, monitor our progress. Their presence is nerve-wracking. Imagine doing a layup drill under the stern eye of Michael Jordan; it wasn't so long ago that Freddie Spencer was the Jordan of the road racing world.

After the morning drills and a final classroom review session, we return to the track in groups of five. We're allowed to ride as fast as we want, but not to race. With a dry track and more seat time, I begin increasing my speed. Five minutes into the 15-minute track session, I latch onto two classmates and begin a high-speed game of cat and mouse. After three laps, I lose all restraint and launch into an out-of-control banzai run. Using my new techniques, I begin to pass my classmates.

I'm blipping the throttle and braking smoothly, entering corners at just the right moment and double-apexing turn two, slicing the wide arc into two smaller turns to keep the bike upright as long as possible and maintain speed. And when I glimpse another rider a quarter-mile down the front straight, the chase is on. My banzai run is turning kamikaze.