stacy b-log

Patrick Bertinelli and the No. 93 Krewe of Helios-AZ Suzuki GSX-R 1000 overtake another rider on the fabled 31-degree banks of Daytona International Speedway.

DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. -- Call it the Fantastic Fourth.

Patrick Bertinelli raced the No. 93 Krewe of Helios-Arizona Suzuki GSX-R 1000 to a thrilling fourth place in his fourth and final race - the Speedscreen Unlimited Grand Prix Amateur Championship at the CCS Race of Champions at Daytona International Speedway yesterday.

In the process of completing his best finish for the race weekend, Bertinelli also helped teammate Ray Thibodeaux capture second place in the event, while fellow Arizonans Matt Heppler and Gary King rounded out the Southwest's spectacular finish, placing sixth and seventh respectively in a race that saw a number of off-track adventures.

"I kept seeing guys going all over the track - off the track, in the grass," Bertinelli said. "I kept thinking – it’s a 10-lap race, guys, you have to finish to place. I just stayed on the track and kept it pinned and was careful. It was a great race."

As the points leader for the Southwest Region in amateur Unlimited GP, Bertinelli started from the first row, outside position, with Thibodeaux on the second row, just over Bertinelli's left shoulder. Jumping to a good start in third position tipping into Turn 1, Bertinelli saw Thibodeaux's shadow and checked up just enough to allow his teammate through to chase another championship.

Unfortunately, Bertinelli went wide going into the International Horseshoe and two riders passed him - meaning he had some work to do if he wanted to reach his goal of a Top 5 finish. Meanwhile, Heppler and King mounted an all out war behind him, as King melted his fender trying to overtake the trash-talking 23-year-old.

"He's been talking trash all weekend," King said. "I followed him out of the trailer, and he says, 'Get used to that because that's how it's gonna be in the race.' I told him to get out his dental floss because he was gonna need to get the chunks of my tires out of his teeth."

"That was such a sweet race," Heppler said, basking in the glow of his second Top 10 finish for the weekend.

Though Heppler didn't need King's dental floss, the Pirellis helped the Arizona riders to 16 Top 10 finishes overall - plus, the tire manufacturer was kind enough to loan our Grand Canyon State riders some umbrellas to keep them cool along with their fabulously sexy umbrella girls/wives/buddies cool as the riders waited on the grid in record heat for their respective starts.

In the Speedscreen Unlimited GP expert race earlier on Sunday, Dave Stone and the No. 25 All Stone Army Suzuki GSX-R 1000 captured his second podium of the weekend, finishing third. With his characteristic modesty and humility, Stone promptly did a burn out in Gatorade Victory Lane.

"I was gonna go in the grass if I had to - I spooled it up. The bike was going all over the place - that was a helluva race," Stone said. "Who'd have thought, Davie Stone wins two podiums at Daytona?"

At the awards banquet later that evening, Ray Thibodeaux picked up his hardware as the 2006 Unlimited SuperBike amateur champion and he managed to thank every member of the Arizona contingent, the Southwest Region race officials - Randy, Heidi and Adrienne - chief mechanic Lenny Albins, and his wife during his acceptance speech.

"Everyone has been so helpful - I haven't been on a bike in 16 years, and my friend Gary got a bike and that's how I got started this year," Thibodeaux said. "It's been a great time."

Indeed, the weekend was great for all of the Arizona riders - Thibodeaux, Bertinelli, Stone, Heppler, King and Alan Chook.

"A national championship, a second, four thirds, a fourth and a ton of top 10s," chief mechanic Albins said. "That's an awesome race weekend for the Southwest."

Arizona racers Raymond Thibodeaux, Gary King, Patrick Bertinelli, CCS Southwest owner Randy Stem (standing), Alan Chook, Davie Stone and Matt Heppler celebrate their success in Victory Lane.

Posted by stacy at 06:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

FWAAAAP!!! POTATO POTATO POTATO POTATO! brupppp.... brupppp....

To the average redneck, these are the sounds of angels on high. To me, they are the farts of overly expensive and pathetically useless pipes. I hate Harley-Davidsons. I hate choppers. I hate faux-Harleys and RUB bikes. To put it bluntly, I hate Biketoberfest.

PUH-ta PUH-ta PUH-ta ta ta ta ta... FWAPP!! FWAP! potato potato potato

For the past five days, my sweet husband Patrick and I have been embedded in Daytona Beach, Florida - the World Center of Racing, the Birthplace of Spring Break, and right now, the highest concentration of redneck chrome in the known universe. As you may know, Patrick is racing motorcycles this weekend - and a lot of you, whom I refer to lovingly as "THE REST OF US" probably think a bike is a bike is a bike. Two wheels is two wheels? Right?

FWAAPP! BWWWAAAH... BWWWWAAAAH... burrrrgle burrrgle burrrrgle burrgle...

Wrong. At 2 o'clock in the morning when they're revving their ridiculously underpowered engines outside your window, THEY ARE MENACES TO SOCIETY. Yesterday, we left the comfy confines of the timeshare for the ... charming ... and LOCALLY OWNED Aqua Terrace Motel. It was really a cute place, if you have a good sense of humor about these things. If it were in Scottsdale and were renovated, it would be the ultra-hip Valley Ho. But it's in Daytona during Biketoberfest - and if you don't already know how I feel about Biketoberfest, read on...

BRRRRRRUH BRUH BRUH... KA-PAH KA-PAH KA-PAH... bruh bruh... bbbbbrrrRRRUUUHHH! BRUPPPPP!

You know those movies where the tired couple pulls into an out-of-the-way, 60s-era motel on the side of the road - the kind whose doors face the sputtering neon sign in the deserted parking lot beside the oily black swimming pool? I'm thinking Pulp Fiction, 10 Little Indians, The Cooler. Inevitably, there's an axe-murderer in the next room and a coin box beside the bed for "Soothing Motion." You know the type. That's where we stayed last night.

The folks at the front desk were kind and apologetic about the legion of so-called motorcycles clogging the motorcourt - the innkeepers were also gracious, stocking our room with complimentary toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, feminine hygiene products and Rolaids. Sadly, they did not include earplugs, firearms, a hacksaw and sleeping aids, because AT 2 O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING WHEN BILLY RAY MULLET-HEAD REVVED HIS ADDLED MOTOR WHILE BACKING INTO HIS PARKING SPACE OUTSIDE OUR DOOR, I could have unloaded a firearm on him, chopped his sunburned ass up, tied his underpowered piece of crap to what was left of his ankles, dumped him into the ocean, inserted my earplugs, popped my sleeping aids and GOTTEN A GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP.

GUH-GUH-GUH-GUH..... gggggggg guh guh guh... ptttttthhhhp ptttttthhhhp ... GUG GUG GUG gaaah

For "The Rest of Us" that don't understand what I'm all worked up about, here's all you need to know about Harleys, choppers, cruisers and their ilk and why they're more like living in the flightpath of LAX than owning a real motorcycle:

1) You don't have to idle your engine to back your bike up - unless you're an asshole and you like to waste gas and make unnecessary farting noises. You can turn off the motor and back it up. It rolls. Go figure.

2) Loud pipes DO NOT EQUAL better performance. The louder the bike, the more the rider has unmet sexual performance needs for which he feels subconsciously necessary to compensate. If you put these piped-up Harleys on a dynamometer (a machine that measures horsepower), you would find that they have about as much power as a leaf-blower on Starbucks. Put it this way, Pat can go 180-plus miles per hour on the banks of Daytona International Speedway. Harleys, choppers, cruisers and their ilk can't go on the banks of the speedway because they'll tump over. I KID YOU NOT. Vehicles (two-wheeled and four) cannot travel under 70 mph on the fabled 31-degree banks or else they'll slide down to the apron. And while, yes, Harleys / choppers / cruisers / their ilk can go 70 miles per hour, they can't take advantage of the laws of physics and lean into the turns at Daytona without dragging their precious chromed-out pipes. Ergo, they tump over.

3) Precious is a Southern code-word for ugly. If any Southerner tells you your baby is PRECIOUS, slap them. They're not your friend. If they say your sweater is precious, burn it. All Harleys / choppers / cruisers / their ilk are precious.

4) Harley Couture is an oxymoron. You can file it under the heading of "JUST BECAUSE IT FITS, DON'T MEAN YOU SHOULD WEAR IT!" That goes for T-shirts, jeans, chaps, leather bikinis, leather vests (with or WITHOUT shirts underneath) and tank tops. Any company that would sell flip-flops as "ride apparel" is run by morons. (Harley used to be owned by a company that also ran bowling alleys, go figure). If there is anything at all appealing about the way these "riders" dress, it's this: If you want a strong incentive to lose weight and get healthy, come to Biketoberfest and check out these men WHO SHOULD BE WEARING LEATHER BIKINIS instead of sporting their sunburned man-boobs because they think it's "cool" to ride their precious motorcycles SHIRTLESS.

THHHHHHRRRRRAPPP POP POP POP PAAAAAAHHHHH THRAP THRAP!!!! potato potato potato potato

5) Not only are their bikes loud, THEY'RE LOUD! I wonder why that is - could it be that they are shouting all the time over their useless pipes? I know I have an outside voice, but I sound like a shy librarian compared to these magna cums loudly graduates of the John Force School of Public Speaking. For those of you that don't regularly follow non-NASCAR motorsports, John Force is an NHRA funny car drag racer who is physically incapable of speaking lower than a Howard Dean-decible scream. The difference between John Force and these yahoos? John Force is entertaining - AND HE GOES FAST, 330 MILES PER HOUR'S WORTH OF FAST. Billy Ray Mullet-head and his girlfriend Tammy Fay She-mullet are just outside-voiced drunks who don't know better than to turn off their idling motorcycle before a night of tender love-making. (My God, I just realized that these people are also breeding legions of loud-mouthed, mullet-headed, shirtless KIDS)

WHEN WILL THE INSANITY END?

potato potato potato potato - bwwwwwwaaaap - guggle guggle guggle

The moral to this story, if you ask me how our trip to Biketoberfest went, put in your earplugs... FWAPPP! FWAPPP! FFFFFWWWWWWAAAAAAAPPPPPP!!!!! ... and don't even think about darkening my driveway with your Harley/chopper/cruiser/their ilk.

Posted by stacy at 08:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

DAYTONA, Fla. – Improper tire pressure, lack of horsepower and miscommunications in the pits yesterday conspired to produce one sucky day of racing for our Arizona contingent.

Continuing his triumphant return to Daytona, Ray Thibodeaux finished third in the amateur unlimited SuperSport race yesterday, but his podium finish was erased when Team Thibodeaux failed to take his winning bike to tech inspection.

Thibodeaux could not escort the bike to inspection personally because he was out on the track racing in the subsequent amateur middleweight SuperSport race, where a mechanical failure made it impossible for him to shift his bike, resulting in a seventh place finish. A successful protest was launched and Thibodeaux’s third-place finish was reinstated – about the only highlight of the day.

“That sucked!” Patrick Bertinelli said after a disappointing 11th place finish in the amateur unlimited SuperSport race, where low tire pressure had the No. 93 Krewe of Helios-Arizona Suzuki GSX-R 1000 bucking him up and down the fabled 31-degree banking of NASCAR Turn 4. Matt Heppler of Payson followed in 13th while Gary King of Cave Creek placed 17th. In the concurrently run expert unlimited SuperSport, Dave Stone cursed his way to an equally unhappy seventh.

“I had no horsepower!” Stone said, in one of his few comments that did not include the adjectival, adverbial, verb and noun usages of the f-word. “A friggin’ Ducati beat me! A Ducati!?!”

On the No. 613 aztrackday.com / All Stone Army Suzuki 650, Alan Chook placed seventh in the expert lightweight SuperSport race.

Because of inconsistent wireless connectivity, we hope to post the final day's results on Sunday evening, October 22 - but that may or may not happen. So to tide you over, feel free to read our next entry: WHY I HATE HARLEYS.

Posted by stacy at 07:54 AM | Permalink

DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. -- The Arizona contingent managed to keep their bikes sunnyside up today at the Championship Cup Series Race of Champions - through race officials couldn't manage the same with their timing equipment.

Technological failures within race administration marred an otherwise exciting day of racing. Though we cannot officially convey the winners of the 14 races contested today, we can say that Grand Canyon racers claimed three podium finishes - or not.

Ray Thibodeaux won the amateur Unlimited SuperBike race, finishing third in the amateur GTO, while Dave Stone finished third in a thrilling expert GTO contest, as the Arizona contingent claimed about seven Top 10 finishes today at Daytona International Speedway.

On the No. 25 All Stone Army Suzuki GSX-R 1000, Stone got the day off to a thrilling start, edging fellow Valley resident Johnny Rock Page at the line for third-place in the grueling 25-minute amateur GTO race.

"Page’s bike was so fast it took everything I had to beat him," said Stone, who threaded a lapped amateur and expert to gain his slight advantage on Page. "All those bikes are so friggin fast. The only advantage we have racing in the Southwest is we know how to race tight tracks. That was the difference."

Unfortunately, even though race officials brought Stone to Victory Lane after his triumph to take his photograph and allow him to thank his sponsors, the "official results" listed him as the 13th place finisher - a result he successfully contested before race officials determined that they would not post anymore of Friday's final results until Saturday morning (hopefully after they figured out their computer problems).

By this reporter's count, Patrick Bertinelli and the No 93 Krewe of Helios-Arizona Suzuki GSX-R 1000 finished seventh in the GTO, followed by Matt Heppler in ninth (and I defy race officials to tell me otherwise, until their computers are back up and running).

"It was just like back at home," Heppler said with a grin. "I finished right behind Pat!"

The majority of the CCS Races of Champions are being contested with experts and amateurs simultaneously running in each division. Thus, any given race could have as many as 40 riders railing around the fabled 31-degree banks of DIS - and all of our Phoenix riders seemed to be more comfortable with the track at every pass.

"It was fun, it was exciting, it was scary – all of it," Bertinelli said. "When we were racing, I lost all inhibitions about the banking. (The GTO) didn't seem like a 25-minute race - there was so much going on."

There was a lot going on in the Unlimited SuperBike race - the penultimate race of the afternoon. Expert Stone got off to a brick-like start with an inadvertent wheelie at the drop of the flag - finishing eighth in his class. Bertinelli fared little better among the amateurs - jumping to fourth place among amateurs going into Turn 1, when a racer cut him off, and letting up to avert a crash, Pat was run off the track by another rider. Returning to the track in next-to-last place, he crawled his way back to a respectable ninth or 10th (depending on who's scoring), while Heppler followed at 10th or 11th.

Thibodeaux, however, walked away from the amateur field after mixing it up with 16-year-old Virginia phenom Robert Wilkey during the first two laps of the five-lap Unlimited SuperBike amateur race.

"I had an excellent start - running third into Turn 1, and took the lead for the first time on the back banking. We went back and forth until I passed (Wilkey) for the final time on the banking in NASCAR Turn 4," said Thibodeaux, who last raced at Daytona as a professional in the AMA SuperBike series 16 years ago. "It's cool to be back - it's different. It's like I've never been here before."

Escaping out of NASCAR Turn 4, Thibodeaux cruised to a commanding victory... at least, that is until race officials post the "official" results Saturday, after they get the computers fixed, and then, who knows?

We will have reports from the second day of racing (and hopefully some photos and official-OFFICIAL results) early Saturday evening.

Posted by stacy at 06:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Greetings from Daytona, Florida — birthplace of Spring Break, NASCAR Nation and a whole lot of retirees (who were born a long, long time ago in far, far away cities on the northeastern seaboard).

Periodically, I have endeavored to share with you, the 15 people that actually open and READ my unsolicited e-pleadings, certain anthropological discoveries that I have unearthed (see All About Hip-Hop). Today our lesson takes its heading from the more than 100,000 two-wheel enthusiasts who have descended upon this fair city to ride, ride, pose, ride, eat, ride, drink beer, ride, buy ride-related accessories, ride, drink more beer, ride, pose and ride some more.

For those of you that think Sonny Barger* is a jazz saxophone legend, read on, my friends... read on:

As far as I can tell, there are two kinds of people in this world: Those that wear helmets (smart) and those that don’t (organ donors).

Within those two groups are at least five sub-groups, in order of importance:

1) Serious sport riders like Pat and his racing buddies (smart, fast & skilled), or in the words of Alan Chook “Me All Night Long” – “The guys in this garage and on this track are the only ones that count.” Sorry, I don’t have a cool name for them.

2) Squids, pronounced “skwidz” – or the jokers on sport bikes that give serious riders a bad name, also known as, the organ donors you see doing stand-up wheelies on the freeway in T-shirts and flip-flops. In the words of Chook: “They (squids) are the guys that lean on the fence and say, ‘Hey, we’re faster than those guys,’” as Pat and his buddies scream by at 170 miles per hour.

3) Bikers like the Hell’s Angels, the Outlaws and the Bandidos, who have long, shaggy beards (both male and female), are routinely arrested for various weapons and drug infractions (both male and female) and honor their dead by urinating on said comrade’s grave (again, both male and female). These bikers may or may not wear helmets, and I’m certainly not one to debate with them about the merits of their choices.

4) RUBs – Rich Urban Bikers (pronounced “rubs”) – or the vast majority guys and gals you see riding around on expensive cruiser bikes who might grow three days worth of stubble in order to look menacing like “real bikers” but whose idea of living the biker lifestyle is trailering their bikes to Daytona, staying in a timeshare and getting really bad sunburns while riding around, posing, drinking beer, buying ride accessories, eating, drinking more beer and riding around some more. Anyone who lives the “biker lifestyle” is probably a RUB since you can’t afford a “lifestyle” if you’re spending part of your life incarcerated. Most RUBs are proponents of the helmet-free life, to which I say, “Just don’t drink so much beer that your liver is damaged when I need it, OK?”

5) The Rest of Us: Folks that don’t ride and are puzzled, intrigued or infatuated with those that do. (This entry is for you.)

All you need to know to differentiate among the above: Tonight, the RUBs and squids will be doing a single “parade lap” around Daytona International Speedway at a top speed of about 35 miles per hour. If they drag their knees, it’s because their bikes are too heavy, they aren’t going fast enough and they tumped** over. Today, Pat and his buddies did quite a few laps around Daytona International Speedway – at 180 miles per hour – and they dragged their knees because the laws of physics came into play. The Rest of Us will either be standing around saying, “What a bunch of dumbasses!” or “Holy #$&%!” or you’ll be at home reading this blog.

* Sonny Barger is one of the founders of the Hell's Angels - though now that he is a published author and has described his lifestyle as a "brand," you can probably safely call him a RUB (just not to his face - or to the face of any other "real" biker).

**Tump – Part of Speech: verb. Definition: To fall over spontaneously, as if without any external pressure being applied. Language of Origin: Southern vernacular, Northwest Louisiana. Contextual usage: You better put that beer in the cupholder, Ray Pat, or it’s gonna tump over when we take this turn.

Posted by stacy at 04:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

DAYTONA, Fla. – Patrick Bertinelli and the No. 93 Krewe of Helios-Arizona Suzuki GSX-R 1000 tested the laws of physics during practice sessions yesterday for the CCS Race of Champions at Daytona International Speedway.

Hugging the fabled 31-degree banking in NASCAR Turns 1, 2, 3 and 4, Bertinelli wound the GSX-R 1000 up to 180 miles per hour and more, appearing to ride almost parallel to the apron of ‘The World Center of Racing.’

“I don’t care how I finish,” Bertinelli said after his first practice session. “I just want to survive this weekend and make it back in one piece.”

Part of returning safely to Arizona would entail learning how to drive like a Floridian.

Apparently, every resident of the Sunshine State is required to slam on their brakes before using their turn signals (when they feel the need to use their turn signals.) Team sponsor and crew chief Stacy Bertinelli acknowledged her relief at purchasing the extra insurance for their rental car after braving the Florida Turnpike.

“It’s just like New Jersey’s – only there are more old people and less dead bodies,” she said. “Though after a week of driving with these old people, I could make some additions to the dead-body count.”

The carnage at Daytona International Speedway included two red-flagged practice sessions, leaving Bertinelli and fellow Arizona racers, Dave “Mouth of the Southwest” Stone, Ray "Marlboro Man" Thibodeaux, Alan Chook "Me All Night Long," Matt "Just Happy to Be Here" Heppler and Gary "Fender Bender" King, limited opportunities to experiment with gravity.

As you read this, Stone is probably still complaining about his tires.

With record-setting temperatures in the upper 80s with 90 percent humidity, the Birthplace of Speed did not offer a gracious welcome to our heroes. Throughout the afternoon, menacing clouds threatened a downpour, but did nothing to mitigate the stifling heat.

“I’m starting to have fun,” Heppler said. “But I still can’t get used to those banks.”

The 31-degree banks proved more vexing for our Arizona racers than a golf-cart traffic jam at a four-way stop in a Central Florida retirement community. Running parallel to the pavement and just a few feet from the wall, Patrick Bertinelli clocked his fastest speed at 182 miles per hour.

“If something happened, I wouldn’t even know it until it was too late,” he said. “I have learned today that I do not have big balls of brass – I have medium-sized balls and that’s OK with me!”

After ten hours of racing, our Arizona contingent returned Garage 21 bowed but not beaten by the bodacious banks – and ready for a full weekend of racing.

“It was a great day,” Chook said, “because nobody crashed.”

Amen to that, brother!

Posted by stacy at 04:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)