It seems such a short time since we posted the news about Al Ussher’s brilliant photo of Kev Taylor at Waterfall netting him third place in the 2018 Carole Nash MotoFoto competition and an even shorter time since we sadly lost Al. A constant at BMCA trials for a number of years, Al, AKA Hammertight, was a keen competitor, snapper and report writer – we were honoured to have him as the BMCA’s dedicated correspondent. His reports were regularly published in the TMX, only getting the pleasure of submitting his report in return – he was truly passionate about his endeavours.

A selection of Al’s little gems!

The full Hammertight service not only included some cracking quotes and anecdotes – his photos were great works too. I know many of us were the subject in one of Al’s action shots, if not, probably in one of his amusing photos – either way, he was renowned for sending people surprise little gems of pictures he’d taken of them.On the whole he did it for the joy it brought him and everyone else. However, the fruits of his labour, when he entered the national level competition, were that his shot featured as the image for January in the 2019 Carol Nash calendar and a free place at the Ron Haslam Race School as an additional prize. Being picked out from the thousands of entries brought Al immense pride. I remember him filling me in on the latest news as he received notifications that his entry was on the long list, the short list and finally in the top three!

The final standing of Al’s entry was announced at Motorcycle Live at the NEC, with all plenty of glitz and flashing lights. Al knew he had a place in the top three before the final reveal, I think that it didn’t matter, to him, what prize he took though: he was already feeling so proud. When the standings were announced, Al was cheered and clapped as he received his prize from the man himself, Rocket Ron!

Al receiving his prize from the man himself; Rocket Ron

Sadly, for Al, he never had the chance to enjoy his prize, before he passed away. When I learnt that Al wanted me to take his place on the Race School day, I was surprised yet determined to make the most of it as he would have done.

After waiting and waiting some more, yours truly finally cashed in the gift that Al kindly passed on to me. A mix of nerves and waiting for a steady window in this summer’s weather, meant I put off booking the day. I eventually got a grip of myself and took a deep breath and hoped for the best. A snap decision on a Friday morning saw me booked in for the following Wednesday (28^th August 2019) – there was no going back now!

As the date grew near, I have never followed the weather forecast so closely. I think all that resulted from this however, was that my initial smugness at getting a day off work to lark about on a motorbike in the sun (that was the initial forecast), turned into dread at the prospect of downpours and mental images of teetering around corners!

Filled with nerves and excitement, I rolled up to Donnington Park at mid-morning, to hear the symphony of CBRs flying around the track – blimey did they sound like they were going quick! Once signed in and kitted up it was on to the briefing, where I met up with the rest of the guys and girls who were riding in my session. A real mix of riders were in this session, some seemed like seasoned track day veterans, a few relatively new riders and everyone in-between. It settled my raging nerves slightly to learn that nobody in the group had ridden Donnington or this Race School before, so I wasn’t the only one feeling my way through the day!

However, this all changed again five minutes later when we were buddied up with a fellow pupil and our instructors – things were getting real now, the track was only minutes away… As Chris, our instructor, greeted me and my school pal for the day, Danielle, my face told all; “You look a bit nervous Luke?”, I must have looked a right picture! Then in a moment, things settled down a bit when Danielle told us she had only passed her test a month ago; a voice in my head told me “Bloody grow up would you, this girl has only been riding for five minutes and she’s already got bigger balls than you!”.  Fear turned into concentration. “Let’s do this!” running through my mind, helmet and gloves on, onto the bike and out on the track; senses felt heightened, electricity started to course through my body and mind.

Track time takes the format of three sessions of 15 minutes on track, both pupils following the instructor, one behind the other. At the instructor’s signal, the pupils swap position half-way through, giving an opportunity to test your mettle in the lead and keeping pace. With Chris showing us the line, the pace gradually rose lap on lap as did the level of confidence in pupils. The first session was over all-too-soon and we grudgingly got off the bikes for a bit of inter-session coaching. Positive feedback from Chris and some guidance on riding technique including body positioning and throttle control, seemed to take only a minute before we were back in the saddle for round two.

Buoyed by the coaching, the second session was a marked improvement in speed, control and enjoyment. We’d moved things up a cog or two, starting to hustle into corners, hitting apex after apex and riding with more fluidity. My heart was racing, my blood full of adrenaline and endorphins as we got off the bikes for the last inter-session coaching; in-depth discussion of the track.

The final session of the day couldn’t come soon enough; I was hungry for more track time and couldn’t wait to stretch the plucky CBR’s legs a little more. That and the fact that the clouds that had been threatening us all morning had started an unwelcome delivery – Rain, NO!!! Thankfully Al smiled upon us and made sure things didn’t get out-of-hand, it was only a five-minute shower in the end; leaving the track still ride-able at pace. I was determined to push a little more in this session, I did make a few silly mistakes but on the whole I was getting faster; carrying more speed through corners, exiting a good few thousand RPM higher than previously – even to the point where I had the dilemma of holding back on the throttle to avoid redlining out of Coppice.

Spanner in action!

All good things come to an end (and usually at my disapproval), the inevitable chequered flag wasn’t a welcome sight! I was willing the marshals to lose count or have to nip off for a toilet break; anything that would give just one more lap – but no such luck! After getting changed into our civvies, we headed to debriefing. It was a welcome surprise to find out we all would receive a huge goody-bag and also course completion certificate – complete with an assessment from our instructor.

And here’s the school report!

Did I tell you I was a bit nervous about this whole thing?! On one hand, I needn’t have been – it all worked out fine. But then again, perhaps it was all the better for it. No, I’m not losing it (I hope), just bear me out: The nervous anticipation that turned into straight out terror on the day was a key ingredient. Just like salted caramel, I wouldn’t have realised the sweetness of the high without the bitter of the low! As my school pal was asking Chris “What should I take back with me from today?”, I was thinking to myself “Being alive”. Not because what we had just done was semi dangerous, but because of the feeling of sheer vigour I had and having the opportunity to feel it. Thanks Al, you always gave me good advice, but the gift of the Race School trumped the lot and reminded me that every now and then we all need to LIVE life to the fullest, not just work to exist.

In the words of Al himself: Keep ‘er lit!