After riding around on the street for 1,800 or so miles I took my '18 Triumph Street Triple RS to a track day Saturday at Thunderhill Raceway in California. It was my first track day in 10+ years, so I enrolled in the slowest (B-) group. The weather was going to be rough—a high of 107° F and winds up to 18 MPH—but I was still looking forward to knocking the rust off of my asphalt skills and seeing what the RS could do on a closed circuit.
My first session was limited to following an instructor around the track for two laps at an easy pace, but that was fine by me since I hadn't been on this, the East, track before. It has a wonderful, pucker-inducing turn called The Cyclone which is much like the Corkscrew at Laguna Seca: a climb up a hill, make a blind turn-in just before the crest, and then apex at the crest before the topography reveals the track dropping away from you down the back side of the hill.
Back at the pits after my instructor-led laps I swung by the Dunlop tent and asked the guys there about tire pressures for the day. They recommended 29 PSI at the front and 26 PSI at the rear for my stock Pirelli Diablo Supercorsa SPs. I duly dropped my pressures and then swung by Dave Moss's trailer to see if he could twiddle my suspension. There were enough folks already waiting for his services that I would have missed my next session had I hung around, so I decided to first run a session on Triumph's recommended "Sport" suspension settings to see how they felt.
My God it felt good to be back on the track! I gradually gained speed as I learned the track and started being able to link a few corners together here and there. Letting the bike rev out down the straights had me wishing for more wind protection, as I was still too unsure of my braking markers to get in a full race tuck. But, wow does the RS pull like mad at the top of the rev limit! Hang on hard and keep your toe snuggled under the shift lever to snap off upshifts with the quick shifter sooner than you are used to.
Coming back to the pits at the end of the session I took a moment to catch my breath, chug some Gatorade, and inspect my tires. Satisfied with the recommended tire pressures, I watched the racers in the other groups for a bit before a red flag started flying. Someone in the "A" group biffed hard and the ambulance was getting called onto the track. Taking advantage of the extra time before I'd be back on track, I made my way again to Dave Moss's trailer to get his suspension advice.
I'd watched a few of Dave's videos online, including his initial impressions of the RS, and if anything he's even more friendly in person. He's also very practiced at what he does, and within a few minutes he'd sorted my suspension into something that certainly looked much better when bouncing the bike at rest. For my 200-pound carcass Dave softened the front and rear preloads from what I'd set them at using the classic Race Tech method, suggesting heavier springs or a diet may be in order. He softened the rebound damping at both ends, but left the compression as it was. Dave also noticed that my steering head bearings were a bit loose and suggested being extra soft at the start of acceleration and braking to limit the amount of angle shift in the suspension until I could tighten them properly.
Eager to try out the new settings, I switched the ignition back on and hit the starter switch but was surprised to get no reaction from the bike. Hmm. Clutch in, transmission in neutral, side stand up, but still no engagement of the starter when hitting the starter switch. A few other racers noticed my befuddled behavior and came over to assist without success, and eventually Dave also came over to try to solve the mystery. However, the bike would have none of it, so with dread in my heart I wheeled it over to the track mechanic.
We checked the switches. We checked the fuses. We vented the gas tank. We tested the battery. We were stumped. ("Ehh, it's a Triumph. I dunno these as well.") At this point I was ready to toss a bag of chicken bones to see if they could provide any guidance. Conversing with Dave again, he suggested I call A&S Motorcycles in Roseville, California to see if they had any ideas. I reached the service department and we spent 15 minutes trying different ideas to see if we could somehow get the bike running again. Huge kudos to A&S for spending their valuable time on the phone with a total stranger, but sadly nothing worked. My day was done after less than a dozen laps of the circuit.
Hot, sun-baked, and pissed-off, my wife and I loaded everything back into the pickup and headed back to my dealer in Reno. They were quite apologetic, promising to look at the bike first thing Tuesday morning.
Reflecting on the day's events while driving home left me with a mix of feelings. While exploring the worlds of adventure and dirt riding over the last decade, a small ache in my soul had begun to grow. The ability to hone and perfect a line across perfect pavement is something I think I'll always love, and the experience had been missing from my life for too long. Not that I'm giving up the unpredictable excitement of the off-road world, but maybe I'll find a better balance between the two.
Will the Triumph be up to the task? I bought a brand-new bike in part to avoid the unknown reliability of a used one, but it seems that my gamble has failed to pay off. Was this just teething pains, an unfortunate one-off, a gremlin to be exorcised once and banished forever? Or, is this the tip of the iceberg and the start of a series of disappointments? I'll know a little more once I hear back from the dealer, but until then I'll gladly remember the little bit of joy I was able to achieve on Saturday and eagerly look forward to my next time out.
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