The only thing I love more than a single track day is spending a full weekend at the track. There's something about racing multiple consecutive days that really improves your riding skills. I was in a good mood when I parked my car on Thursday evening. Time to unload my bike from the trailer, put up the canopy tent, and then get to scrutineering. I liked to get my technical checks in as soon as possible, so I wouldn't have to think about it any more for the rest of the weekend. I hadn't expected any problems, and luckily I passed the technical check without problems. Only one more thing to do tonight. I took the tent out of the back of my car and started setting it up. To be honest, I hate sleeping in tents. They are either too cold or too warm, the light is too bright and for some reason I always manage to get stuck in my sleeping bag. I've tried sleeping in my car, but that is even worse. Oh well, a little discomfort was worth it for a weekend of racing. But like every time before when I set up my tent, I vowed to buy a dedicated motorsports' van as soon as I won the lottery. With my sleeping accommodations set up I took a beer from my cooler and sat down on a chair to read a bit, watch some youtube and got an early night. I had a full day of riding ahead tomorrow.
The next morning, as I emerged grumbly from my tent, I saw that the paddock had filled up more. Where at first I had a corner almost to myself now a big motorhome had parked right next to my little camp. Luckily, the canopy was pointed the other way, and I still had my space to myself. I don't dislike company, but when I'm racing I like to have the least amount of distraction possible. I got to preparing my bike and myself for the first session of the day. The first three sessions were free practice, just to get back into the rhythm and get the bike set-up right. The other two sessions on Friday were timed qualifying sessions, no races yet on Friday.
As I was waiting in the pits, I looked around at the motorcycles in my class. With its ten years, my bike was far from the newest in the class. But looking a bit more closely, I saw some other older bikes. The riders mostly were guys, but I saw two braided ponytails stick out from beneath the helmets of two different riders. Sadly, motorsports was still very much a men's world. The flag was waved, and the first session was underway. The temperature was still low, the track a little damp, so I took it easy this first session. Still, I wasn't the slowest on the track and managed to overtake more bikes than I got overtaken by. The next two sessions went better, I started to get back into my rhythm and a few tweaks made sure that my bike was set up better for the track.
Next up was the first of the qualifying sessions. And that's where the trouble began. For some reason I kept encountering a girl with a blonde braid. Whenever I passed her, she made sure to pass me in the next corner. If I out braked her, she made sure to pass me on acceleration. It didn't do much good for my lap times, but it was a fun fight. In the first corner of the final lap I made a mistake. Had to brake a lot harder and I saw her disappear into the distance as I tried to get my motorcycle back under control. As I exited the track, I kept looking around for the blonde braid. Sadly she was nowhere to be found. As I went back to the start for the last session of the day I looked around, but I didn't see the blonde braid. I did see a brown braid, but that girl was riding the wrong bike. This session I was able to focus a bit more on my lap times and I set a time that I was quite happy with.
As I came back to my little camp on the paddock, I heard a female voice curse from behind the big motorhome. I heard the sound of tools clattering to the ground and another heartfelt curse. Still in my motorcycle suit, I wandered over.
"Everything alright?"
"No. The fucking bike won't start. I know what wrong with it, but I don't have the tools."
"What do you need?"
"Do you have a torx bit and maybe an impact driver?"
"I'll go check." The girl was still hidden behind her motorcycle, so I walked back to my car and rummaged around in my tools. Then I decided to just take my toolbox over to my neighbour.
"Here, this is all I have. There should be some torxes in there and at least an impact driver."
The girl had appeared from behind her bike. I already thought I recognized the bike, but there were multiple blue Yamaha's riding around, so when I saw the blonde braid I was sure this must have been the girl I had been battling with during the qualifying session. She still had her suit on, but had stripped it down to the waist, revealing her tight-fitting under clothes. I couldn't help but to appreciate her nice figure. Tight waist, shapely breasts, probably a B-cup. But I was immediately enamoured with her face. She had a heart shaped face, big blue eyes, cheeks that were a little flushed from all the work and a few strands of hair had escaped her braid and were now falling over her face. She blew them away, but they immediately fell back.
"I was already wondering where you went when I didn't see you in the second qualifying session. We had such a great battle in the first one."
"Oh, that was you!" Her eyes sparked with enthusiasm, "That was great. I was faster though."
"Were you?"
"Look at the times, I'm Kyra."
"Hi, my name is Frank."
I took out my phone and looked at the times, while Kyra went back to working on her bike. She was right, she had been faster in the first qualifier. I had improved in the second session, and my overall time was faster. I said so, but she answered, "The only thing that counts is overtaking, and I'm sure it was me who overtook you in the last lap. You were nowhere to be seen."
"Yeah, I made a mistake in the first corner. But I would have had you."
"Sure," she said with more than a hint of sarcasm, "There'll be no way we'll know."
"I'll show you in the race." I said. I had just looked up the starting positions for tomorrow.
"We'll see about that." She answered.
"Anyway, unless you need any help, I'm going to get changed. Bring my tools by when you're done with them."
"No, I can manage. And once again, thanks for lending them to me."
As I was finally changing out of my leather suit, I heard the sound of a four cylinder Yamaha starting next to me. Seemed like Kyra had managed to fix her problem. Since this was the last race weekend of the year, the organization had organized a small party both evenings to thank all racers and crew for another successful season. Some time during the evening I strolled over to grab a beer and to hang out with some of the other racers I had encountered during my racing "career". I wouldn't call them friends, but like always when you have a shared hobby, it's easy to lose an evening on beer and talking about bikes and racing. I was standing at the bar when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Kyra was standing beside me with two beers in her hands, she handed me one of them.
"Thanks once again for lending your tools. You're a lifesaver."
"I wouldn't know about that. Glad to hear we can battle it out on the track tomorrow."
"As long as you don't make any more mistakes."
"Not planning on it."
We kept talking a bit, about bikes, racing, how the weekend was going. Then we got to the fact that I was jealous of her accommodation. She explained that she had bought it together with her ex, but had paid him to keep the truck.
"So you came out on top. No ex, great truck." I quipped.
"Thanks! I guess I have it all," she said with a wink.
My beer was empty at this point, and I prepared to leave. "I'll walk with you," Kyra said and she accompanied me back to our spot on the paddock.
"So, this is my palace." I said, pointing at my sad little tent. We milled around a little. Both unsure of where to go. Maybe I should just go for it. I moved my hand to the blonde's chin. Lifted it up towards me and kissed her. She seemed to be surprised at first. Fuck, I thought, I fucked up. I guess I'll uproot my tent and find a new spot on the paddock to hide for the rest of the weekend. Then Kyra parted her lips slightly and kissed me back. She took the front of my shirt in her hands and pulled me towards her motorhome. I rested my hand on the side of the motorhome to keep my balance and kept kissing the blonde. We stood there, kissing each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Our hands started to roam, down her slender side, up to the edge of her bra. She broke the kiss, panting slightly.
"Hmmm, that was nice." Then she turned around, went to the side of her motorhome and blew me a kiss. "Good night, sleep tight."
I went back to my side with a tent in my pants that rivalled the one I would be sleeping in. A little disappointed, but still satisfied. This was more than I had expected of the day. Riding a bike, kissing a pretty girl. I disrobed and got in my sleeping bag in my cold tent. Satisfied but aching, I laid awake in my bed. Even though I had been riding the whole day and had a few beers at night, the excitement of kissing Kyra had me in its thrall and I found it hard to fall asleep. While I lay awake I started to hear the percussion of rain drops on my tent. Normally that would've put me right to sleep, and at first it did make me woozy. Just as I was about to drift off, I felt a wet drop on my head. Immediately, my eyes opened again. Right in time for a second drop to land on my forehead. The fucking tent was leaking. Just my luck. I picked up all my stuff in the dark and dropped it best as I could in the back of my car. Leaving just enough space for myself to stretch out in my sleeping bag.
I awoke aching and grumbly. The cramped quarters had made my muscles ache. I rummaged around in my stuff until I had found my coffee maker and pods. Maybe some caffeine would make the day more bearable. As the machine was buzzing away, I got dressed and cast a look inside my tent. A small puddle of water had formed at the space where I would have normally rested my head. A few papers had got wet, but luckily I had been quick enough in removing all important stuff. The coffee maker had finished and I sat down.
"Hey Frank. Is that coffee that I smell? I hate to bother you again, but I forgot my own coffee. Can I have a cup?" Kyra had appeared from her side of the motorhome. I grabbed another cup and pod and set the machine to work.
"You'll have to grab your own chair I'm afraid, I only brought one." I said as I handed her the cup. She set the coffee on the ground and disappeared behind her motorhome for a few seconds, then came pack with a chair and a pack of biscuits.
"So, about last night..." she said as she sat down. Whatever she was planning to say trailed off.
"Yeah..." I said. I'm such a great conversationalist. "We had a little to drink. We're both single. No harm, no foul."
"That's the thing. I didn't want to lead you on, and I don't want you to have any expectations."
"No expectations here. Other than beating you on the track." I said. I winced as I stretched my arm towards the biscuits.
