warmers to get up to full temperature, the tyres would
start losing chunks of rubber. We had to get the right
amount of heat into them.
Now, the issue was a head wind that was gusting up
around the FIM speed limit. We kept waiting to hear the
wind reports from the tower and finally it sounded like
the wind speed was staying in the 5-8mph range.
From experience I knew that a 7mph crosswind was
about as much as I could take to keep the bike under con-
trol. We’d a great first run and knew that we had to make
the return run within two hours.
It was time to go …
The tower reported the wind was coming from the
north; a head wind.
I took off. A couple of the crew members pushing the
bike, to help get it moving.
The salt flats in Bolivia are at 12,000 ft (3,600 metres)
above sea level. The air is thin, people have trouble get-
ting enough oxygen and so do engines. My bike having a
turbo charger is a huge help in cramming more life-giv-
ing oxygen into the engine. Amazingly it takes almost
all of the first mile for the engine speed to climb high
enough for the turbo to work efficiently, and at this mo-
ment it’s a fine balancing act to ensure that wheel speed
and engine speed are in sync so as not to promote wheel
spin.
At mile 1 the bike is doing 140mph in first gear. I was
thinking about getting low and tucking my knees in
when I noticed that I was having to lean hard to the left
just to keep the bike going straight. There was a cross
wind from the west that I wasn’t expecting. The bike was
no longer cooperating with the rider.
The wind died down a little, then gusted back. I was
fighting just to stay upright and keep the bike straight.
The course was bumpy, I was having trouble focusing on
the mile markers, the small window of vision I had be-
tween the top of my helmets visor and the bottom of the
screen was vibrating too much. I knew the timing lights
must be coming up soon.
It was hard to keep my head down, making sure my
knees didn’t get out into the wind while trying to stay
near the middle of the track. I was getting moved around
so much.
I saw the marker for the beginning of the lights and
made sure to hold the throttle wide open. It would only
take 12 seconds to finish the next mile.
The timing tower was on my left. Just a little further.
Come on!
Then a gust of wind slammed me from the right, the
opposite of what it’s been doing. Do not let off! Counter
steering and leaning the bike to the right, I couldn’t hold
it. The bike and I were pushed to the left and off the
track, tearing through the 8-mile marker.
It was an ugly run. I wondered if my time had been
recorded and was it good enough?
“Did they get the speed?”, Andres asked Alan Rice, the
head timer before handing me the walkie talkie.
“Yes, we know exactly what time Ralph reached the
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