Armed with our general admission and paddock passes (Thanks again, Jonsey!), my press photographer for the day, Dave Wong and I pointed the nose of his KIA south on the 101 Sunday to catch the tail end of the MotoGP finals, and represent IPM to a galaxy of motorcycle enthusiasts.

As we passed the other bikes down to the track, Matt’s word of caution about keeping your speed down on the last stretch, was validated by the site of one-piece hot shots being pulled over every five miles.

Once passed the gates, we proceeded  down to the paddock to cherry pick our favorite bikes before things got started. I was in heaven watching top quality machines being tuned by pros, left in various states of undress for the public to gawk at. It was almost indecent. If the economic state of the teams can be judged by the quality of the trailers and beauty of umbrella girls, Buell took the cake. See below!

Inside the track, each respective manufacturer set up team tents to give the fans a place to commune. Usually requiring proof of insurance to gain access to loyalty perks, we managed to flex our Media credentials. Ducati Island set up a stage and put on a wicked uh, ‘fashion’ show, which was the closest thing to a clothed strip show I’ve seen in broad daylight.

We then caught the beginning of the Prix from the inside at the 4th bend. The tearing roar of the engines was intense (bring earplugs) but it was hard to catch any action from the low vantage point. Into the 8th lap we made our way up to the tail end of the famous “Corkscrew” of the track, climbing a tree to get a good view over the crowd to watch Daniel Pedrosa hold a strong lead until the finish.  The tragedy of the event is that it’s only a grueling 20 laps and the faster the bikes go, the shorter the race turns out. The main event clocked in under 45 minutes, which seemed astoundingly short for an event that requires 3 days to set up.

Our attempts to put the race into any sort of general human perspective is in vain. The speed of the bikes were impossible capture by any conventional means. The track is too big to catch all the details so what we captured is just a small glimpse of this intense competition. Somewhere at the back of my mind, something tells me that the only way to understand how this race works is by tagging along for the ride. Take the turns and attempt try to keep up with these adrenaline jockeys on the track. But the kind of resources it would take to truly understand what’s actually happening is crushing to the common man. It takes a whole team coordinating at a level of precession at costs only the support of dedicated fans and deep sponsorships can afford. I have to give an honest credit to the varied professional organizations and individuals, from the mechanics to the medics (and especially umbrella girls), whose collective effort brings this sport to it’s audience annually.

I had a hell of day and witnessed the pinnacle of world class motorcycle racing, the experience has fueled my passion for the sport. By the time the AMA race was underway more than half the crowd was making it way out of the park, including ourselves. It’s a damn shame too because the guys on that circuit draw the line  between the celebrity of fame and the plausibility of practicality. They pour their blood sweat and tears in order to place rank without the glory of a purse. Maybe one day too I can ride among their ranks, but until then, I’ll see you track-side.

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