Fully Sic - gone, just like that.

A friend posted this pic on Facebook. I'm not sure where it came from, but I'm hoping it's in the public domain.

I can’t stop crying. A couple of hours ago it was announced that Marco Simoncelli – he of the crazy hair and the wild, give-it-everything-you’ve-got riding style, had ‘succumbed to his injuries’ after a dreadful, dreadful crash at the Sepang circuit in Malaysia. The image of his helmet bouncing across the track will stay with me for a long, long time.

I feel as if I’ve lost a friend, even though I’ve never met him. Marco, aka Hair Bear, Fully Sic, Super Sic and probably a host of other names, was a regular visitor to my lounge room throughout the motoGP season, via the magic of television. Last weekend my friend Tali was his grid girl at Phillip Island. I felt a vicarious connection with him because of that. Tali’s feeling pretty gutted right now – as are all my motorcycling friends - as am I.

We all know that motorcycling is dangerous, but we love it anyway. And even knowing how dangerous it is, we are still shattered – and, I think, kind of surprised - when we lose someone. Especially someone like Marco, who was one of the young gods of motorcycling. When they are on the track, they seem protected somehow. High speed 'offs' that would kill lesser mortals seem to have little effect on them. These young blokes achieve the impossible, race after race. They crash at horrendous speeds. They slide, they get up and more often than not, they walk away.

But not today.

Marco Simoncelli, you crazy charismatic gutsy young man - you will be fondly remembered by more people than you could imagine, and you will be sadly missed.

My heartfelt thoughts go out to Marco’s family – and to Colin Edwards and Valentino Rossi, who were drawn into this awful, awful accident of Fate through no fault of their own, and who will be burdened with the memory of it forever. Hugs all round.

If you haven't yet, but would like to leave a condolence message, or read the tributes of other fans, here's a link (thanks Andrew).

2010 WSBK Round 1 - Phillip Island: The Racing

Leon, Rockit & Ian at the house on PI

Weather forecasts for the Superbikes weekend had been wildly optimistic, so of course I had packed summer gear. At the last minute I'd chucked a fleecy jacket in my bag, as a concession to the changeability of the Phillip Island weather. Just as well I did!

I found my way to the Island by myself on Friday, grabbed some food and wine from the shops in Cowes, and promptly got lost on the way to Rockit's house. How the heck I ended up on a gravel road, I don't know – but I finally found Rockit's, arriving just as Leon did.

One of the great attractions of the Superbikes weekend at PI is that you can actually ride your bike into the circuit, rather than parking it outside. Well, that may be attractive to some people, but not to me. I like bitumen, and given my aversion to unsealed stuff and my tendency to fall off, my personal Risk Management Strategy involved leaving my bike at Rockit's and finding alternate means of getting to the track.

Leon to the rescue! I'm never too proud to be a pillion, especially if it means getting to the track in one piece.

Oh, what an adventure! From our vantage point at MG corner we had a great view of the big screen as well as the bit of the track just after the hairpin where so many of the racers crash – it's a bit heart-stopping really. (And it was a weekend of many crashes - Ruben Xaus alone had FOUR, and poor Chris Vermeulen crashed his Kwaka in both WSBK races. Ouch.)

We checked out the bikes in the Expo, and I discovered what I had always suspected – the little Ducati Monster is indeed a little too tall for me. Ah well....

I was on a mission – my mate gNat/Tali, Clem's daughter, had dragged me (not exactly kicking and screaming, mind you!) to the Support Paddock at motoGP last year to show me around, and one of the young racers she introduced me to was Troy Herfoss. gNat couldn't make it to the Supers this year because she's busy overseeing Clem's recovery (crap timing, Clem!)

As a Team Suzuki racer, Troy was doing an appearance at the Expo, so I was determined to get a pic for gNat. Here it is!

TroyHerfoss is so tall, this is where I was jumping up and down and saying to Leon "make sure you can get ME in the photo too!"...

So, being the perfect gentleman that he is, Troy came down to my level for another pic...

...and yet another pic when the flash didn't go off for the last one!

Troy is a talented racer, and a humble, clean-cut, focussed and very genuine young bloke with movie-star looks and a lovely manner, and he was happy to pose for a pic with me and to talk about the weekend's racing – as well as sending a hello to Tali and best wishes for Clem's recovery – I think I became his Number One fan on the spot after that – what a truly nice young man.

Coincidentally, Leon was chatting with a bloke outside a bit later on who turned out to be Troy's dad, who had ridden to Phillip Island on his V-Strom with Troy's mum on the back. I really liked that.

Friday was roasting hot, but on Saturday the good old Phillip Island weather kicked in and the day was grey, windy and bitterly cold. Thank goodness Katt's housemate had loaned me a big thick jacket – I would've been icicle-ised without it!

The weather may have been cold, but the racing was hot – very exciting, and Troy's result in Race 1 of the Australian Supersports class put him on the front row of the grid for Sunday's Race 2.

You know that you'll rarely get a Betty blog without a rant – so here's my rant for today.

A pox on all those people (generally tall, overweight middle-aged blokes with accountant looks and expensive name-brand jackets that they've just bought at the Expo) who take chairs to the track and sit on them against the fence (that's not the rant bit), and who stand up (quite unnecessarily!) to watch the races, thereby blocking the view of everybody behind them (especially short-arses like me!). One fat bloke who insisted on standing, even though he had an unobscured view of the track, and who kept raising his binoculars so that even my view of the big screen was obscured, came THIS close to being vaporised by some white-hot Betty ire. The only thing that saved him was his almost total lack of interest in Australian racing – he was only interested in blocking everybody's view for the World Superbikes class. Where's a cattle-prod when you need one? Sheesh, some people are so effing selfish!

Phew, glad I got that off my chest. So.... despite tall selfish bastards putting a bit of a damper on Sunday's WSBK racing, it was good to see my new favourite, Troy Herfoss, blitzing the field in Race 2 of the Aust Supersports.

Big screen view of the podium for the Aust Supersports class

Back at the house, Rockit's daughter Jo headed home to Melbourne (thanks heaps for all the rides to and from the track, Jo!) and the rest of us departed shortly afterwards. I had a lovely dinner at the pub in Kilcunda, and stayed in a spotless room with a lovely hot shower at the Killy Motel next door. Life's good!

The Brisbane or Bust Adventure - Days 3 & 4

I'm melting in my sacriligeous t-shirt - but gNat manages to look cool and gorgeous. How does she do that?

Days 3 & 4 – Chez Grimm to Casa del Clem

After the monster ride up it was lovely to veg completely with Grimm & Deirdre on Friday. Poor Grimm was feeling rather seedy for some reason on Saturday. Oh, okay, so was I, just a little bit. With temperatures in the 30s and humidity at around 70% it was too disgustingly sticky outside to do anything, so we spent the day watching movies, and the evening sitting in the spa, turning into rubbery creatures, sipping champers and watching music videos. Looxury!

Deirdre, Grimm and a terrified Betty about to depart

On Saturday morning, however, it was time to go. I said farewell to Grimm, Deirdre, Gina the dog and Monty the python and headed off for parts unknown. A mere 50kms of motorway riding, but I was terrified about getting lost. In fact, I was more nervous about making the trip from one side of Brisbane to the other than I was about riding all the way here from Canberra!

Bye bye Gina!

Decided to try riding in my glasses instead of the contact lenses, which have been giving me curry in the heat. Instead of having to contend with sticky lenses, gluey eyeballs and 200 blinks per minute to try and unglue them, all I had to worry about was my glasses sliding off my sweaty nose in the four thousand percent humidity.

It started raining just before I arrived, and gNat dashed out to meet me so that I didn't miss the house. (These people know me so well, tee hee!) Yay, I made it!

My fabulous hosts have made me feel very welcome. gNat took me for a drive around Sandgate and Redcliffe on Saturday, Michelle made a humungous pasta dinner (with even gluten free pasta for moi!!!) and we couch-potatoed in front of several episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, some red wine and a screening of Dogma.

I also have some new best friends, and I'm trying to figure out how to smuggle Scrabble the dog into my tank bag tomorrow. Getting her past Michelle will be tricky!

Big tough biker Clem with Tinana

Today we've been out driving, eating pizza and sightseeing – Brisbane is so much bigger than I remember – and I'm wondering how the heck I'm going to transport the rather large bike stand that Clem won on eBay back to Canberra! It's been a lovely relaxing holiday in great company, and I feel pretty clever to have come this far. Tomorrow I do my very good impersonation of an overcooked boil-in-the-bag dinner again, and start the long ride home.

Waiting for pizza :-)

Pilgrimage 09 - Phillip Island MotoGP Part 3

Day 3 – A Day at the Races, a Night at the House

Phillip Island at motoGP time means different things to different people. For me, going to Phillip Island means many things – I love the long ride to get there, and the physical and mental challenges it involves; it's a social event where I catch up with many bike friends – and most of all, it's about the racing.

People create traditions at PI. The crazy people at the House do a Beer Lap of the circuit on the Saturday. That means a beer at each beer tent around the track (they take all day to do it).

I (occasionally) know my limits – so I left them to it and went to find the Queenslanders and watch some racing. Hmmm. I was still a tad seedy after the excesses of Friday night.

This year we had seats in the Gardiner Strait stand, with a view of the Start/Finish line and the pits. The noise! The colour! The atmosphere!

gNat took me for a walk to the Support Paddock to view the 'man-candy' (her words, not mine!) That girl is wicked! She was quite correct when she said there was lots to see, heh heh.

(gNat: 'You want to come and see some serious man-candy, Sue?'
Sue: Oh, if I must...)

I rejoined the (somewhat tipsy) House people for the trip back to the House and BBQ night. We were joined by Ausmoto folk Slej & Leah, Nev & Jo, and my mate Katt (of Terrible Trio fame).

(Katt & Sue meet up again)

('Hey Smack, your fly is undone!' Slej & Johno helping out a mate)

Johno was in his element, wearing his special hugging shirt (oh my eyes!) and hugging as many people as he could get his hands on, including Smack. What a night!

(Johno hugs Jo)

(Johno hugs Leah)

(Johno hugs Smack)

Pilgrimage 09 - Phillip Island MotoGP Part 1

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The odyssey begins...

The Queensland contingent – Leon, Clem and gNat, arrive shivering in Canberra on Wednesday evening, and on Thursday morning the intrepid adventurers leave Chez Betty under gruesome grey skies. The forecast for the next few days is a bit grim. Meh.

At Yass I put on my wet weather gear 'just in case'. At the very least, it'll keep out the chill of the wind.

'Did you bring wet weather gear?' says I.

'No,' says Clem. 'We don't need that sort of thing in Queensland.' Uh-oh, think I, eyeing the evil dark clouds with a sense of impending disaster.
(on the Gocup Road just outside Gundagai - 'What wet weather gear?')

So – by Tumut it's raining properly, and the jeans of Clem & gNat are starting to look a bit soggy.

In Batlow it's raining. Clem keeps lagging behind, and thoughts of hypothermia loom large in my brain.

There's freezing rain in Tumbarumba, but there's a shop in the main street that sells waterproof pants. Poor gNat huddles by the heater, looking totally miserable. 'I want to go hoooooome!' she wails.


More suitably attired (and looking extremely stylish, heh heh) - and with bellies warmed by hot soup, we press on to Jingellic. It's raining there. We cross the Murray River into Victoria, and it's raining there too. There's rain as we head through Granya Gap, and on all the lovely sweeping roads along the Murray Valley Highway to Tallangatta. But it's not raining in Tallangatta!

Unfortunately, the brief spot of sunshine there is very fleeting. Some serious rain starts, and we head to Wodonga. We last saw Leon as he rode past us in Tumbarumba, where, by the way, did I mention it was raining?

Clem's XJ750 has started misbehaving. Uh-oh. Surprise surprise, it's raining in Wodonga. We pull over so Clem can drain the carbies, then head down the Hume Highway – we need to get to Warburton before dark, and with all this rain we seem to be taking a very long time.

Leon appears at the servo outside Wangaratta. This is fortuitous. The sun, incredibly, comes out. This is also fortuitous, because when Clem manages to get the XJ started, he daren't stop, and he roars off into the distance just as my gear shifter falls off at the servo exit. Yes, falls off. Completely.

Leon performs some quick roadside surgery as the next bank of black clouds approaches, and the rain holds off until we are back on the road. Clem & gNat are waiting for me at the Euroa servo, and we bid Leon farewell as he heads to his Thursday destination.

If you think things have been intense thus far, think again – the worst is yet to come!

The rain somehow gets worse, and colder. Clem has the bright idea of taking a shortcut through Marysville, which was almost wiped out in the bushfires last summer, and beyond that, the Reefton Spur.

Holy dooley – the devastation is terrifying. Dead trees and bare rock are all that's left, and the high narrow road that snakes along the Spur is littered with bark and twigs – and at one point, a fallen tree that has to be cleared from the road before we can continue. I'm so cold that I can't feel my hands, and my anti-fog visor insert has failed me completely. I ride with the visor up, frozen rain needling my face, and try to fight the rising tide of panic.

It's just another road, say I, over and over, which, coincidentally, is exactly the thought that Clem is apparently willing me to think. Spooky!

Leo & Di's place in Warburton, with its roaring fire, is a haven for we three Icicles. Clemsicle's clothes are still wet from earlier in the day, and gNatsicle looks like a tiny bedraggled pixie. Betsicle's circulation is finally restored by the warmth of our hosts and the glass of red that Di hands her (you know me so well, Di! (chortle)) and we call it a night, relatively early, and all crawl exhaustedly to our various beds.

Day One has taken us through about 750kms of cold and wet terrain. The Phillip Island Adventure has begun...