Whilst walking the tented areas at the MotoAmerica Superbikes at Brainerd race weekend in Minnesota, I discovered the Roadracing World Action Fund was offering fundraising two-up superbike rides around Brainerd International Raceway. This piqued my interest, not that I fancied being on the back particularly. However, I did like the idea of being on a bone fide superbike at speed around a famed racetrack. Plus, I’m always up for trying a new experience.
The Roadracing World Action Fund’s mission is to help prevent racetrack injuries. The organization raises funds to promote motorcycle racing safety and education. The RWAF encourages and facilitates using Air Fence and Alpina soft air barriers at motorcycle racing venues, reducing injury when a racer comes off the track where sufficient run-off is unavailable.
Back to my day at Brainerd International Raceway, where a donation secured me a seat for the two-up ride. The ride is popular and track time is limited, so once the opportunity presented itself, I booked immediately. Chris Ulrich and David Swarts from RWAF were available and happy to talk through any queries or anticipated fears I expressed.
We would be on a race-prepped Suzuki GSX-R1000R, with some modifications to safely accommodate a passenger in comfort. These Gixxer had slightly lowered passenger footpegs and a grab handle fixed on the tank to hold. I was to put my arms loosely around Chris and hold on easily.
At the appointed time, the six passengers gathered with an air of anticipation. David carefully questioned us on sizes and then supplied one-piece race leathers, boots, gloves, helmets, and earplugs—all meticulously checked for fit. The group consisted of five girls, and a guy who’d never ridden or been on a motorcycle before!
Chris and David took us to the Suzuki and talked us through what the ride would entail with plenty of question-time. We then gathered in pit lane, with friends and family welcome to take photos and give unsolicited advice.
I then embarked on the pillion ride of a lifetime. Thoughtfully, a step was provided so I could gracefully mount the brightly colored metal steed. I slung my leg over and, with Chris up front captaining the roaring machine, I was perched on the back of the formidable superbike, taking the moment in.
We gracefully glided out of the pits to encouraging applause and whoops of enthusiasm from onlookers. Within what seemed moments, we slipped smoothly tipped into the first turn. I crooked my head back slightly for a better look ahead and then glanced down to find our superbike seemingly devouring the pavement. The instant speed, coupled with the mighty roar from the exhausts, was a heady mix.
I had been watching the racing throughout the day and tried to concentrate on where we were on the track and to memorize the turns, imagining I was riding. I caught a glimpse of our RV, which was parked beside the start/finish. The scenery around Brainerd International Raceway whizzed by in a blur of vibrant colors. I couldn’t believe how instantly things seemed to happen; it was like what I imagine a time traveler feels. Things in my periphery vision were fast and yet slow.
Then, within moments, a calm came over me. I was drawn to how slowly and gently Chris’s gloved hands butterflied on the grips; our flow was like poetry. As we conquered each corner, I was right in there with the rider feeling an exhilarating rush through my veins.
I relished the speed of the straightaways and the surprisingly smooth, almost light braking by Chris to his predetermined speed, and then the pull forward as we maintained pace through each curve. We didn’t waver; it was like Chris was spreading butter across toast in one smooth knife sweep—and this was his slow lap!
By the time we were back to the start/finish line, Chris had gauged my fear factor—it was zero by then. I was keen as mustard and kept an eagle eye on the speedo. Chris expertly maneuvered the sleek machine, making my adrenaline pump. I instinctively cocked my head back to look ahead to where we were going, applying a little pressure on the inside footpeg, allowing my body position to melt into the speed, and went with the lean of the turns.
The Suzuki’s tires gripped the asphalt with unwavering determination. Not a single dodgy feeling came to mind or body as I embraced the sheer joy that only a high-speed journey can provide. My main thought was, “I wish I could ride like this.”
Even though Chris was being measured with his ride, the straights were highly exhilarating, as the GSX-R1000R showed me some of its acceleration power. Although I noted 155 mph on the clock at one stage, I focused on the forthcoming feel of each next bend, where I would again feel the superbike’s tires gripping the asphalt with unwavering determination.
The time passed in a blink of an eye. Before I knew it, we returned to the pits, and I reluctantly alighted. As I removed my Arai helmet, it was obvious that nobody could resist my infectious smile because I saw it spread across the faces of those who’d already been out on track and those awaiting the creation of a memory that would last a lifetime. I had a newfound appreciation for the indescribable thrill of riding on the back of a superbike, and under the safest possible circumstances.
Having been anxious all morning before the two-up ride, this unforgettable experience confirmed what I already know—life’s greatest adventures often lie on the other side of fear. My pillion ride around Brainerd International Raceway became more than just a thrilling experience; it became a metaphor for living life to the fullest and a reminder that sometimes your best memories are born from pushing the boundaries and embracing the unknown.
Photography by Arthur Coldwells
