My TT, by Jamie Robinson
In 2008, short circuit expert Jamie Robinson got his first taste of road racing at the Isle of Man TT.
The Yorkshireman first rose to prominence in 1992, at the tender age of 16, when he took eighth in the 125cc British Championship.
Just three years later he claimed the 250cc crown and made a serious impression on the European Championship before moving into 250cc Grand Prix in 1996.
His best results came at Assen in 2000, when he finished fifth, and he had the honour of taking the fastest lap at his home race, the British Grand Prix, the same year.
Despite those and other notable performances, Jamie never really got the breaks at the highest level and returned to the UK, initially on a Superbike before switching to the British Supersport series in 2003.
In 2007 he finished fifth in the British Supersport Championship riding his own privately-entered Honda.
This year he fulfilled another ambition by signing up for the TT, preparing to race on the Mountain circuit he remembers from his childhood when he accompanied his road racer dad to the Manx Grand Prix.
Jamie competed in both Relentless Supersport Junior TT races.
At the end of his TT adventure, Jamie wrote-up the experience from his perspective exclusively for iomtt.com. The following story is Jamie's TT experience, in his own words.
MY mouth was drier than an Egyptian’s sandal and my palms sweatier than a fat girl’s bra. The moment of truth was finally here and an eerie silence descended upon me as I waited for it all to begin. Just to make matters worse, there was a 6 minute hold-up as they cleaned part of the course and someone walked up to me showing a “Lack of adhesion at Snugborough” sign minutes before I set off.
Snugborough? It could have said Yellow Brick Road for all the sense it made as my pickled brain went to mush as I frantically tried to run through the 280 corners and work out where the hell Snugborough was.
This had to be the biggest build up to anything in my entire life, there was no turning back now and if I didn’t already feel bad enough, the race organizers made me wear a stylish and bright orange vest to warn everyone that I was a TT novice and could possibly do anything or go anywhere at any time.
Almost without warning it was time to go and the travelling marshal blasted off like he was on a mission and I dumped the clutch and burbled away like the novice I now was. I threw a few gears at it in an attempt to keep up but the race bikes stiff suspension, thin grips, hard foam seat and race tyres sent every bump and ripple right through me and I vibrated off down the road like I was riding a rampant rabbit.
My body couldn’t cope with the vibrations from the road and within seconds my vision was blurred and my mouth bounced up and down like wind-up chattering teeth.
It was a massive and serious shock to the system and I hadn’t even done half a mile of the 37 ¾ mile circuit. Before I had time to react, panic, pull-in or turn back, I was already on my way down Bray Hill and the travelling marshal was a mere spec in the distance.
You dread moments like this. Times when you are completely and utterly out of your comfort zone and you don’t know what to expect next. I mean I’d done my homework so I knew which corners came after one another but the pot holes, bumps, crests, grates, white lines, curbs and wall lined course threw up some interesting surprises and the sheer speed of the place made your eyes pop out of your head and touch the inside of your visor.
The only bit of comfort was the warmth coming from my soiled pants which soon became a lot warmer as we crested the hill after the Wagon and Horses pub and the road fell away while as we were flat out in top. Holy sh*t, as if Bray Hill wasn’t bad enough, this was like falling off the face of the Earth. Oh yes, you are supposed to keep it pinned down the other side as well.
I think I must have been holding my breath for most of the first 9 miles as felt dizzy braking into Ballacraine and had to tell myself to breath as my body still needed oxygen even if it was rapidly falling into a state of shock.
The rest of the lap was a vibrating blur and it was made a million times worse knowing that they set the fast guys off when the orange jacketed novices reached Kirk Michael. I felt like a red rag to a bull.
It was a sense of relief and excitement as I finished my first lap of the Isle of Man TT course on closed roads and could hardly speak as I got off the bike. First time for everything eh?! The guys quickly re-fuelled and sent me straight back out for another two laps before I had time to get changed and run to the airport and before I knew it I was back in the saddle and heading out again, this time alone.
You think the first lap following the marshal was scary enough; the first lap by yourself is absolutely terrifying as you’ve no one to follow or gauge yourself from. When someone finally does come past, they do at warp-speed, pulling rabbits out of the hedges, blowing toupees off pensioners and laying long darkies and usually with the bike shaking its head in protest as they disappear off into the distance leaving you with your jaw wide open and swallowing flies.
Part two of Jamie Robinson’s first TT experience will appear tomorrow.