I survived the Ring
Trip Start Aug 23, 1996
572Trip End Ongoing
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On Friday, Ducati loaded up, oh yeah, I had bought another Ducati, so I have 3 now, I met up with my mates Paul and Al and caught the train to Calais for the ride to Köln drop the bags off and then hit the Ring for a quick lap or to. But first we had to make our way there, and I was with to boys who ride fast and I did promise Lucy that I wouldn't ride any faster than 85 mph. Well as soon as we hit France, the only time we were under 95 was when we pulled into servos. We were flying. Eventually we made it to Köln and dropped off the bags so we could hit the Ring.
Well, it is about 60 miles to the Ring and with Paul leading, the roads were all like the Old Highway out of Sydney and we managed to do 70 miles before we realized that we were lost. Al was sure that we had gone under that same bridge at least three times and why were those same kids waving at us !!!. We arrived pumped, and the carpark had a few vehicles and then we were told the bad news. The track was closed due to a Ferrari flipping, crashing, catching fire and killing the occupants. My nightmares were returning about going to Nurburgring. We had a coffee and then hit the autobahn where we sat on around 120 mph to get back fast so we could get pissed and boast about the scars we have and women we had lost. Usual bikers talk !!!!!
The next morning, I led as we wanted to arrive promptly. Different roads but equally as challenging with slow/fast corners, we arrived and once again, the track was closed due to two bikes coming together, but this time they were going to reopen as it was only a minor misdemeanor. We bought our tickets and I proceeded to be physically ill as I was freaking out because there were shitloads of cars and bikes and I was worried that I would be hit. So to calm the nerves, we walked the carpark, admiring the exotic cars and bikes that were parked up waiting to get on the track. The track reopened and I just had to go. Up the main straight, I achieved something that did not happen in the Golf. Yes Andrew, I overtook a vehicle !!! A coach !!!! Yes a fucking coach full of old people out on a daytrip. Now I wasn't hanging around and I was hitting 100 mph quite regularly but Porsches, Golf's, BMW's, Bikes of all sorts were passing me. And at the 8 Klm mark, a BMW Z3 went past followed by about five bikes. Within one Klm, a women was trying to slow me down, I backed off and I slid. There was a huge fucking oil patch and I stayed up and noticed a guy standing up, three bikes down, and oil all through the racing line in a fast downhill section. Then around the corner, the idiot in his Z3 was getting out after dumping his oil on the track. What a dick. Well I rode slowly for a Klm and then reopened it up again and once again was hitting speeds up to 130 miles, but was still being overtaken. I was pulling the ton as I came up to the wonderful Karussell, I was going to get into this banked corner on my bike, checked the mirrors before I went in, and there was a Porsche up my arse, so I stayed out of it. I did manage to get into the baby Karussell though. Then it was over. What a relief after twenty Kilometres that the lap had ended. I met up with the boys after they finished boasting how they had taken the coach and we went for lunch. They then reopened the track and we decided to watch at the halfway mark on the concrete bridge. And then it happened again. A group of bikes were in a corner when a fuckwit in a silver Golf, tried going up the inside on the corner, hitting a bike and the guy went head first into the concrete barrier and lay there prone. We were freaking because it is such a dangerous place and you have no protection on a bike. An ambulance was there at halfway anyway and they got him moving his legs and placed him in the ambulance but did not move. This was serious. Hid girl/wife was crying on the track. It was horrific, and then the helicopter came and took him away. We then returned via some more great roads, eventually stopping off at a place called Remagen. There was part of a bridge here, the Germans tried blowing it up but the US stopped them. In the end, it fell down on its own accord. It was ok, but what got me was that I had ridden on my pushy in 96, right past it. We rode off, through the ghost town that is Bonn and went back to Köln.
The next morning, we hopped onto the bikes, we went back onto the Autobahn and headed for Belgium. We stopped of at Ghent for lunch, and rode over to Ypres. Al being a bit of a history buff, wanted to see the Menin gate and some of the battlefields. We did this, and realizing that we were running late to get to the train, we pretty much sat on nothing less than 100 mph, the whole way back to Calais.
After that Saturday, we all vowed never to take a bike there again on a weekend as it is to dangerous. I am going back, in my car as it is addictive, eh Andrew, and Lucy wants to become a Rimmer as well. We all bought the Rimming stickers and now we need the T-Shirt, but I will never recommend this place except for the surrounding roads to anyone
As my heading states, I survived