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Message: [QUOTE="justalonewolf007, post: 1320338, member: 77294"] Hey now! :P If you want the short version, check out Oldguy's thread in the General Forum "Indoor Wisconsin"...ahm...don't quote me on that, but it has those two words in it. Joe: I didn't really try figure it out. They have three seperate areas - The pits, the lobby, and the track. Each is run on it's own ventilation system. As for what they specifically use, I have no idea. I saw some (two) REALLY big fans on one side of the track, with what appeared to be giant heating ducts above the bleachers, and they said one of the big fans had been added since the last race. As for the rest of my adventure...it goes a little like this: The grin on my face after practice was massive. Those simple three laps around the track had done wonders for my mental and physical well being. I was all but shaking from the simple exhilaration of being back in the saddle. The supermini, although not completely familiar with it yet, seemed to hold a similar attitude to that of my beloved old 80. As I got the checkered flag telling me practice was over, the bike seemed to say "No no! We can't be done playing yet!! Let's go another lap!!!!" "Not too much longer little bike and we'll do it again..." Some random person caught me talking as I struggled and hefted it on the stand and gave me a goofy grin, and shook his head. I returned it with a huge grin; I didn't care. Finally, my high wore down, and the cold met my skin with vengence. I wandered around, doing my best to stay warm, while avoiding the cuddley chick as much as possible. Half of me was worried that she'd wandered off and gotten lost, while the other half of me was simply glad to relax and enjoy the exhaust and noise. I soon found her shivering in the stands wearing not one, but BOTH of my hoodies. Geeze. "Ah...didn't you bring a jacket like I said to?" *no reply* "Ah...y'know...you should sit in the lobby. It's warmer there." "I was but there were like some really crazy guys there that were like hitting on me so I came in here. We can sit out there, but you have to stay near and like protect me from them." "Ahhhhh.....ok....?" This thought was...both terrifying and absolutely hilarious. I don't know what was funnier, her thinking I could defend her, or the mental image of me and all my 5'2" and 120 pounds going up against some 6' 200 pound guy. Geeze. What had I gotten myself into!?! There was nowhere to sit, so we stood. We got a couple hot chocolates, and that at least helped me stop shivering. She still hadn't relinquished either of my hoodies. And my 3/4 sleeve (on me, it's more like a 7/8ths sleeve) thor jersey wasn't doing much towards keeping me warm. She wanted to watch more races, so I obliged her request, and we went back to the stands again. It was cold. I was cold. And she kept scooting closer and closer. When I got pinned between the railing and her. She promptly put her head on my shoulder and reached for my hand. "Ah...stop." "Stop what? I'm just trying to stay warm." "Staying warm, and cuddling are two VERY different things. Try it again, I'm going to throw you head first into that garbage If that doesn't do the trick, I'm going to tell those guys you're interested." It worked. I noticed the amount of double-drops they were doing, and doublechecked the riding line up to see where I was. Moto 20 out of 30. Nuts. I was also being triple-dropped with two vet's classes. Double nuts. I figured though, that my chances of coming out alive and not broken were a lot higher than they would have been if it would have been decided that I was to ride with the 85 class. As my luck would have it, the motos weren't numbered correctly, so when I showed up to push my bike out of the pits, the clothespin guy told me I was too early. "Doh. Ah...when is it my turn?!" "Soon!" "Okie!" Finally, I got waved in, and I got ready to line up. I looked up, and frantically searched for the stoplights. "Oh crap oh crap oh crap where is it!?!?...wait Tolle...this is the big time sorta...mebbe you better look for the hot chick with the minute board...thingy." I found out there was no stereotypical hot chick. I wasn't disappointed, given my luck with chicks as of recent. We lined up, started up, and just before the roar of fourstrokes drowned out my voice in a sea of super tingley "FHWUUUUP" I warned the two riders next to me not to run me over when they lapped me. Then the not-so-hot minute board guy told us to cut our engines. I clicked back into neutral, and relaxed a little for the wait. I started shivering a little...and got giggled at, but didn't mind. The rider got up on his own, and walked off the track. We started up, and went from 1 minute to 30 seconds to 15 seconds to the run and gate drop all in...about seven seconds. I revved and watched the gate drop...and pinned it. "BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP" Nothing happened!! I wasn't moving! I was eating rocks and dirt chunks and dust!! "AH CRAP!!!" ... "Oh." I clicked into first gear, and things reacted as they were supposed to. My "oops" turned into a "WheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeYiiiiiiiiiikes!!!" as I flew across a low tabletop, and into the corner. "EASY LITTLE ROCKET!!!! We don't need to get them!!!" Perhaps my biggest struggle riding the little rocket was that I couldnt' grip with my legs like I was used to on my big black beast. Having no decals, no gripper seat, and dull polished plastics, I had several occasions where I truely believed that I was coming off the back. These were mostly when I was navigating the tabletops that were near vertical. I got lapped by the top three riders, and was very pleased that they never even came close to me, even in the corners. I have to hand it to those guys. You may use a cane off the bike, but it really is a treat to see you flick those bikes around like no one's business. Thanks for the room guys, it truely was appreciated! The checkered flag came out, and I coasted down the "hill," and made my way back to my stand in the pits. Copilot showed up and took my helmet and goggles while I tried to navigate the bike-on-stand without tipping over the rest of the row like a super-expensive set of multicolored dominoes. To manage this, I essentially lift the entire bike off the ground...and hope that I make the stand when putting it back down. Eventually, I'll find someone to teach me the proper method. As I managed to get the little F18 (My dad compared this bike a "fighter jet rocket" once...and I thought it was kinda funny) fully off the ground, I noticed her rubbing her fingers across the inside and outside of my goggle lens. "AH! What are you doing!?" "Look!!...I wrote "HAWT" in the dust on your goggle thingies" Here is where I mention that I'm fairly OCD about the treatment of my gear. Don't touch the inside or outside of the lens if I can avoid it. Pick up my helmets by the chinbar or strap only. Don't set them where they'll get melted, dropped, kicked, or get lots of dust, grass, or rocks inside. Next is the nearly domino show that occurred when I nearly dropped my little F18. I'm just glad I caught both bikes before they fell into the next one. Again, there was much weirdness to be had with copilot present...but I was determined not to let her spoil my racing day. The next moto went similarly, except I was ready for the gate this time and got a half decent start. Being back on the little bike, I even started to relax into the corners a little more...and stopped fighting the ruts. I kept my eyes forward, and my head up. I made it a little further around before I got lapped too. However this time, things were a little more exciting. The three fast riders came quite close indeed. As I rolled through the bottom of a big triple, one rider flew overhead (maybe not directly over head...but it was pretty close!!!!). Two others flew past on both sides of me a split second later. I didn't feel endangered, but I am pretty sure I peed a little! Crossing the finishline, I caught just a little air...and doing so, even if it was only 2 inches, made me feel downright superhuman. It is for moments like this, that I ride. The rest of the adventure was rather a blur... I left the sandbox at about 11:45 (packing up took a little extra time in the dark...especially when copilot had never tied down a bike before). Most of the 6 hour drive home was quite rough. I was exhausted, but NOT fond of copilot's "hotel room" idea. To my relief, she slept part of the way back to my town. [/QUOTE]

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