Isle of Man

doc_speeder wrote: Yeah I'm not sure how I feel about the IOM. I'm firmly in the camp that says our world has become too sterile, and that a certain element of danger is indeed part of the thrill of motorsport and in fact life in general. But there have been a lot of "brave" young men killed at the IOM. Say what you will about how they died doing what they loved bla bla bla. They're still dead. The risks seem too great to justify this in my mind.

"If ye think it is too dangerous then go home and mow yer berking lawn and leave us to it."

-Guy Martin

In reply to sesto elemento:

That man has defied death a few times.......he is well placed to say that as well. Conor Cummins could easily repeat that as well.

dean1484 wrote:

Giant Purple Snorklewacker wrote: I think a successful people need a certain number among them who are thoughtful risk takers. At some point, someone needs to test that supersonic jet, be the first one out of the plane with the new chute design, or charge a machine gun nest against bad odds to move progress along. The fact that the flying squirrel suits and the IoM exist are because for a certain demographic defying death is living life and the productive outlets for it are few and far between. I don't fly that close to the edge myself ... but I won't call you nuts if you want to run the TT or take up base jumping. Because I kindof get it - I have never felt more alive than when I've cheated death just a little.

Add one more to your "list" "Drive Race Cars" Dave Despain said it best many years ago with the passing of a race car driver. ----- That’s what he would have wanted. That’s what I would have wanted. Are those just words of comfort? Or words that justify our love of a sport? No! I think that somewhere behind those words you will find a basic division within the human family. Over there the vast majority fear death above all else. Avoid its risk above all else, and pray they die in their sleep. Never looking the inevitable in the eye. But over here the arena is reserved for those special few, For those who climb mountains, Fight wars, And drive racecars. Those special few, That except death is the inevitable result of living. We refuse to hide from the inevitable. We concur our fear. We live our life to the fullest! Let’s take a moment to prepare our selves. A quiet moment before the engines roars.

I'm not nearly that dramatic... but racing cars has been one of the greatest love affairs of my life. I'm even pretty good at it which differentiates it from all the other things I do for fun. Ok. That was pretty dramatic, but racing cars is not more dangerous than some of the jobs I've had or many of the things we pretend are safe... like driving to work. Or... I love riding motorcycles. I love skiing, rappelling, rock climbing, zip lines and ... all kinds of things that give me the illusion of control over death. It's an illusion.

That illusion makes me feel better than any drug. Life is a zero sum game no matter who you are. Nobody gets out alive. Most people die in bed... so the most dangerous thing you can do is go to bed! Why would you ever want to die there when you could go so many other ways?

But not a flying squirrel suit jump. That is just nuts! ;)

My comment about the Dave Despain thing above is that it is from a different time in motorsports. People died with regularity when I started racing. It was just part of the sport that we loved. I lost several friends back in the day. It was sad but I was not a big deal. It was just a by product of the times and the technology at the time.

That all started to change in the late 90s and with the passing if DE sr things accelerated in the safety aspect of racing. It was no longer acceptable to be killed in a race car accident.

Thus, now looking at Dave Despain's monolog, it seems dramatic but put it in the context of the state of auto racing back then it was not.

In reply to dean1484:

I hear you. My first track event was at Watkins Glen before the IRL "fixed" it. Not the sanitized Glen of today - but the one that claimed the lives or ability of many an F1/Can Am/Trans Am racer of the day.

I know I'm saying things that are out of fashion when I say - it is not as thrilling to be over the edge at the Glen today as it was when I learned to drive the place because the penalty for failure is lower. For most - it takes nothing away because as tracks go it is still as unforgiving as cancer but in it's old age it's not as scary as the Ebola it once was. There was a time when commitment meant more than a busted car.

I'm not sure what I miss about it - the feeling of walking away from something that was truly intimidating or the end of an era where men were actually committing to life or death to be fast. Maybe both. It is hard to put into words for people who don't know that feeling. It is more addictive than any drug - to hold your own life in the palm of your hands... at the edge ... and feather it a little. Like a god. It's an illusion but holy berkeley is it a powerful one.

It used to make me wonder what fighter pilots did when they couldn't fly anymore. Then, you look around the paddock. I've had a man who flew the space shuttle, twice, as a student. No kidding.

In reply to Giant Purple Snorklewacker:

I here you re the glen. My track that did it for me was Bridgehampton.

I think the intangible you are trying to describe is a mixture respect and fear. With the advent of better safety gear, safer cars and safer tracks that intangible is just not there. The fun is still there but the fear and respect for what you were doing is less. At the beginning of a season you would look around the paddock and there was a very good chance that one or two of the drivers would not be there at the end of the season.

On one hand I am glad that today's racers will for the most part not have to accept death as an accepted part of the sport. But on the other hand there was nothing that made you feel more alive than going toe to toe with a track and car that will easily kill you and walk away with an understanding that you did not win and you did not lose. You walked to the edge took a good look over and because of your skill and a bit of luck you survived to tell the story. If you happened to win that was a spectacular bonus.

The isle of man TT is probably on of the last events that you can still take that look over the edge.

Oddly enough I've never thought the element of danger added a single thing to racing for me.
Going around turn 8 at Willow Springs at warp speed on a motorcycle where you are actually leaning out over the dirt on the inside edge of the track is way cool, not becuase getting it wrong means paying a big price but becuase it's a sensory experience very few people will ever get to experience. Getting to this sensory place takes skill few people have and that's what makes it special. When I road raced motorcycles I reminded myself not to do anything stupid right before I went on track, after that I was focused and never gave it another thought. I was always one of those guys who felt if you had even an ounce of pucker factor going you shouldn't be on track......it's good to be young and cocky.

Sky Diving is very cool (unless like me you're scared of heights) but jumping out a plane on D Day doesn't really add to the experience.

Having survived going over the bars at speed, car catching fire with me in it and even bullets wizzing past my ear, as mentioned, I never thought it made me feel more alive.

Now with all that said my poor parents spent a lot of my childhood taking me to the ER so I'll coincide my perception of danger probably isn't normal.

Again I really do think the IOM riders do this as the ultimate test of skill and concentration. It just happens to be dangerous. I may think rock climbing is nuts but I'd never ask anyone to stop becuase I find it above my risk threshold.

 Tom

In reply to Tom1200:

The difference is if you are 30 or younger racing has always been comparably safe and thus there is no reason for you to think about it. For those that raced in the 80s and even in to the early 90s it was not the case. It was something that was common. Somthing you had to respect. You did not dwell on it but it was something that was much more in the mix.