isle of man tt

10th June 2021

A Farewell to the Scoreboard

In November 2020, we said goodbye to one of the most iconic sights at the TT Grandstand on Isle of Man as the Scoreboard in its current form was dismantled and removed. It has stood in the same spot for over 100

years (although it’s only since the 1980’s that it has remained there on a year-round basis – it used to be put up and removed before and after racing). It’s believed some of the parts that were removed were original, and actually dated back to the 1920’s, and it’s true that the structure has remained pretty much unchanged over the years. The main changes have been prompted by increased health and safety; for example the wire fence that protected the Scoreboard Team, the painters and the Scouts has only been there since 2015.

A lot has been written about the involvement that the local Scouts have had with the boards, but there’s not so much written about some of the other people who were involved in the smooth running of the traditional system. The painters were key – they painted the numbers on the slates (more about them later) as well as updated the Leader boards. The painters were all skilled workmen provided by a local painting decorating company – the job was put out to tender to ensure top quality work was undertaken. As well as the Scout Association and the painters, there were also a team of Race Officials who oversaw the boards – the Scoreboard Controller and his deputy dealt with the processing of the numbers, then the remaining officials would spread along the front of the two boards ensuring there were no errors, no gaps, and that everything was safe & secure. They had radio contact on each side with the Tower, so if any boards or times were wrong, they would get a call to let them know what needed to be fixed. However, in my experience of 5 years on the boards, I only ever got one call – it was a pretty slick operation!

The Scoreboard consisted of two identical scoreboards – the north board and south board. They carried the exact same information but meant it could be viewed from the whole length of pit lane and the grandstand. There are no electronics allowed in pit lane, so being able to see the boards is the only way the teams know their rider is circulating and approaching for pit stops. Each board had a Leader board that would be updated with the bike number, lap time and average lap speed for the top 6 riders. The updates were made by one of the painter team as soon as the times were available. Most people know that the Scouts update the boards by posting the slates to the corresponding rider, but how did it all really work? Where did the numbers come from?

Before the start of every race, the painters would mount the tear offs (lap number packs) on each number. As each bike left the grandstand the top page was torn off to expose the number of the lap they were. As the riders circulated the course the scouts positioned at the top of the board would get a radio message whenever they went through Glen Helen, Ramsey, Bungalow and Grandstand and would turn the crank handle so viewers knew which of the points they had most recently passed. Just below the clock, a light would show when a bike reached Cronk Ny Mona. For the pit crews this was vital information – they would know to be prepared for the arrival of their rider in pit lane. Usually, they’d know which laps they would be expecting to refuel on but would always be on standby in case the rider came in with a mechanical concern – time was of the essence in the pits, races could be won or lost here! That light was switched on by a scout in the lightbox at the north end of the board.

Once a lap was completed, the timings would filter through from the Timekeepers to the Scoreboard Controller, who would print and check them. The A4 page was split into 2 – one for North, one for South, handed to a waiting messenger, who would take it to the painters. The painters would be gathered around trestle tables stacked high with slates (the slates were actually black boards with a hole at the top). They would receive the paper and paint the time on the front of a slate. On the back, the rider number and lap number would help to identify where the slate would go next. The slate and paper would then be handed to another scout (runner) who would go to the relevant section of the board. There were gaps every 10 spaces (1 to 14, 15 to 25 and so on) so the runner would go to the slot for the rider number, knock on the board and post the slate through.

The next stage is the part watched by thousands of spectators over the years – the scouts out front would pick up the slate and paper, check all the details, scrunch the paper up and post it back to the rubbish bag, and then go and hang the slate. In the event of a retirement, the Scoreboard Controller received a call stating the rider number and the lap they retired on, and he would then complete a card for the scouts to take to the painters to swap for a Retirement board (white letter R) and pegs for blocking out the remaining laps. And that’s it! The process, as complicated as it looked to the untrained eye, was so simple and effective. It is hard to imagine life without the Scoreboard, but we can only wait now and see what replaces it.

Speaking to the team to understand a bit more about what attracted them to the role, they all talk about the sense of camaraderie. Race Official Joy Ellis says this was one of the things she enjoyed the most, alongside actually feeling like she was helping the iconic event run year after year. Another one of the team, Chris Ward speaks fondly of his memories of starting out as a cub scout, progression to being a race Official, and most recently over the last couple of years of racing Chris was Deputy Scoreboard Controller. He recalls ‘I worked the scoreboard as a cub and scout for many years. I started as a Messenger running the handwritten timing cards between the Timekeepers hut and the scoreboard controller (a role that no longer exists) and got to sneak a view of the bikes now and then through gaps in the scoreboard. From there I became a Runner delivering the painted timing boards through the slots in the back of the board.

I then moved on to Clocks and eventually Tear Offs on the front of the board, the most coveted role in those days in our bright white overalls (didn’t show the paint that we inevitable got covered in!).

Days of collecting every lap-time card that came from the Timekeepers hut through the system and delivered with the time slates to the front of the board. Pockets full of the things, collecting every lap time of all the big names, getting them signed after the races, loads of freebies from all the big teams. My bedroom was covered in new posters/postcards/stickers by the end of the racing.

That came to an end during my GCSEs thanks to exams during TT fortnight.

After I came back from university, I was actually working underneath my car one day when the scoreboard controller at the time who had lived 2 doors down the road from my parents for years, came knocking and asked if I’d like to get back involved as an official. I said yes in a flash, didn’t need to think about it … just yes! I think that was 2005 and I’ve been there every year since…’

I asked the Scoreboard Controller, Brendan Byrne, what it was he enjoyed most about his time on the boards. His reply summed it up perfectly… ‘The people on my team. Watching a group of strangers volunteering and forming into a functioning unit linked by their affection of the TT/MGP’

I’m sure I speak for most if not all of the team when I say we all felt the same – as with most people talking about the TT, the Scoreboard tells a story of history, excitement, sadness but most of all great friendships formed over a love of racing.

9th June 2021

The Role of an IOM TT Scrutineer

Jo Marsh is a scrutineer at the IOM TT and very kindly answered some questions put to her from our Crew as part of our IOM TT feature in lieu of racing this year.

How did you get into scrutineering at the TT and what skills do you need?

Scrutineering at the TT is something you’re invited to do. The team consists of people from the Isle of Man and the UK and, on occasion, as far as Australia.

To be able to scrutineer you are required to hold a licence from your governing body, in my case, the ACU. To obtain a licence you need to attend a seminar and be assessed on your work, both practical and written. You are then required to sit a seminar at least every three years.

Is scrutineering at the TT any different to normal bike racing scrutineering?

Scrutineering for the TT is different from other race meetings but only in that the regulations are different.

Is it one scrutineer per bike or do a team do the same bits for each bike?

We do one scrutineer per bike, or two per sidecar. However, if the same bike is presented to you at the next session then we will swap with another scrutineer so you don’t do the same machine on back to back sessions.

IOM TT – Picture courtesy of Keith Quirk

What are you looking for – faults/meeting criteria for the race/checking things are tight?

Generally, we’re looking for criteria for the race meeting. Each meeting has its own nuances and rules so things do vary.

Does scrutineering of the rider eg crash helmet, leathers etc take place too?

We do also check the riders’ gear out before the start of practice week. We check helmet condition, age and fit, leathers, gloves, boots and dog tag, which is an identity disc with the riders’ name and date of birth engraved on it. If a rider falls off at any point then all this is re-scrutineered before the next race/practice.

What happens if someone misses their scrutineering time?

If someone misses their scrutineering time in practice week then we queue jump them so they don’t miss their session on the course. It’s different for races. If a rider has a problem and can’t make his or her time then as long as we are aware of that fact we can grant an extension on scrutineering.

Have you ever failed a bike / refused to let it race?

I have failed many bikes! I couldn’t even hazard a guess at how many. It’s a tough one. During practice week there’s usually enough time to get the problem sorted and get out to practice anyway but before a race is heart breaking. I’ve even stopped a bike on the start line, 20 seconds before he was due to start, as I saw something break.

I also stopped a sidecar one race day. He was late for scrutineering which meant when I spotted the crack in the frame he had very little time to repair it before the race started. He was, shall we say, less than happy with me! He got the repair done in time, raced and finished in the top 6. After the race he pulled the sidecar up right alongside me and jumped off, still with helmet on. I was inwardly groaning thinking he was still mad with me but instead he hugged me and said “You saved my life, I’m sorry I was mad at you before”.

Do you fit the transponders?

Transponders, like bike condition, are the responsibility of the rider. We check that the transponder is fitted and located as per the acu handbook and also that it is the correct transponder for that bike. We also check that it is charged.

Do parade bikes get scrutineered and do you have to check the travelling marshals bikes?

Yes, parade bikes are also scrutineered.

We used to check travelling marshals bikes also but in latter years travelling marshals have all sat the scrutineer seminars also. This means that if a rider stops or is black flagged with a reported fault there is a trained scrutineer in spot to check the bike over and allow them to continue or not.

What happens between scrutineering and the start line – are the bikes scrutineered the night before the race?

Between scrutineering and the start line the bikes are held in a holding area. On race days the bikes are scrutineered up to 45 minutes before the start of the race, meaning we sometimes have early starts to get every machine checked in time!

What have been the weirdest faults/mods/innovations they you seen?

It’s not common to see innovations or ingenious modifications any more as most bike regulations are quite tight and, in some classes, the machines are almost standard, how they left the showroom. The sidecar class has much more room for individual preference on things, such as different chassis manufacturers, sizes of wheels, etc.

Are you also involved in the post race strip down of the bike?

After a race, the top 3 machines are verified. This is done behind closed doors, with only a few scrutineers present. To do this you must also hold an acu licence to be an engine measurer.

Do the riders have any height or weight limit? I’d guess a small rider on a small lighter bike could go faster so is that evened out?

There used to be weight limits for riders, many years ago. There are no limits on riders any more.

What are the best and worst parts of the job?

The best parts of the job are knowing you’re helping people do what they love. It’s a long fortnight, it’s physically tiring and there’s a lot of pressure. The scrutineering team are amazing. There’s lots of jokes and fun to lighten the darker times. The camaraderie is something else. The worst parts are the heartbreak of losing a rider or riders.

Thank you for your time Jo and for answering our questions, it is much appreciated 🙂

CrewOnTwo

8th June 2021

Marshalling the TT – my experience

I never thought I’d find myself standing by one of the most famous race tracks in the world holding a flag and wearing three pairs of trousers, but it’s funny how life works out sometimes.

I fell into marshalling by accident – I was in my final year at uni, chatting with a fellow petrolhead, and the next thing we knew we were on a ferry to Douglas for the Isle of Man TT. Our destination was a football club, their pitch temporarily repurposed as a campsite, packed with bikers from all over the world. One evening after watching a practice session, we fell into conversation with a couple of marshals. The next morning we were straight up to the grandstand to sign on.

For the first race day we headed to Ramsey Hairpin – which is where our new friends were regular marshals, and I have marshalled there ever since.

One thing I quickly learned is that even on a warm summer’s day it can get very chilly under the trees, and particularly for evening practice layers are your friend. My marshalling outfit generally involves leggings, bike jeans and over trousers, plus several tops and at least one hat!

Having become a qualified marshal, I am now one of the regular flag marshals at Ramsey Hairpin. It is probably the only place on course where the flaggie has to run – the flag point is about 100 yards down the hill, where you can tuck in behind a matrix sign wrapped in padding. But down there you have no view of anything from halfway round the bend – there is a long stretch of road up towards Tower Bends which is now out of sight.

Once the call comes through that roads have closed, the ropes go up and we inspect the track, which generally involves a lot of sweeping, a handful of cement dust, and the odd broken bit of wall (I have a tiny chunk of Ramsey Hairpin wall sitting on my bookcase).

And then we wait. The Hairpin is just over 24 miles from the grandstand, so when the first bikes set off we have a few minutes to dig out another packet of biscuits and get to our stations. One of the other marshals makes me a cup of tea, which will be scalding hot for ages as it’s in a thermos mug. The world falls silent. It feels like the whole island is waiting, listening, holding its breath.

And in the far distance we start to hear a swarm of bees, the noise coming from the north and echoing around the hills. Gradually it resolves into a deeper growl as they approach Ramsey. One marshal, who has been at the Hairpin for 40-odd years, can name the bends by the engine noise. Starting with Parliament Square, he calls them out “Cruikshanks… Whitegates… Stella Maris…” and pop they appear, sometimes two or three abreast, the machines pushed to the limits of their braking ability as they close in.

Any incident, and I am running down to the padded signpost, displaying the flag as I go. Down at flag point riders pass close enough to see the whites of their eyes, and holding a stationary flag the back of my hand is warmed by the heat of passing exhausts. At that point, I am watching the approaching traffic, while glancing back to see if the flag needs to be waved. If the incident is out of my line of sight, I have to rely on the other marshals to keep me informed, while they deal with the incident.

Once everything is cleared, I then nip back up to my spot in front of the marshal’s hut, ready to do it all again.

Occasionally we will have a ‘visitor’ – a breakdown or a minor incident. If they are on the inside of the course the rider will stay with us until we can get them across the road at the end of the session. Spectating from the hairpin during racing is a new experience for them, and their reactions can be entertaining as the machines approach, and they take the opportunity to study the various lines.

There is no one line around the hairpin – some hug the wall, some are wide on the entry, some on the exit, or a few take a wide smooth line around the outside.

Between racing mainly involves a nice sit down, eating biscuits, or having in-depth discussions about biscuits. One regular favourite game is Travelling Marshal Bingo, but nobody is entirely sure of the rules…

That one drunken conversation on the campsite has led to some incredible experiences and lifelong friendships. Marshalling gives a whole new outlook on racing, and without the marshals there would be no racing.

It’s so rewarding to feel that you can make a tiny bit of difference to the greatest show on earth. I can safely say it has changed my life.

3rd June 2021

Adventures around the Isle of Man

You’ve been going to the Isle of Man for the TT races for many years, you’ve been there, watched it, bought the T-shirt. You know the island like the back of your hand, you’ve got all your favourite locations to visit. But maybe you’re on the lookout for something a bit different to do, a bit of exploring or somewhere new to visit.

I’ve been going to the TT and Manx Grand Prix for over 15 years, and I’ve also lived there for a couple of years, and I still haven’t been everywhere I want to visit on the island. Here are a few of my suggestions, most of which I’ve done, but some are still high on my to-do list!

A great way to get a different perspective on roads you’ve travelled many times is by public transport. You can make a day of it, with a rover ticket that covers all forms of public transport. My mate and I like to spend one day of the holiday working our way around the island, covering trams, buses and steam trains. Or if it’s a spectacular day we’ll jump on the tram up Snaefell for cake in the café at the top, and hopefully a glimpse of all seven kingdoms (the Isle of Man, England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, the sea and the sky).

If history is your thing, read up in advance about the history of the Island away from the racing. For example, the island was used as an internment camp during World War 2, and some of the locations are still in evidence.

And talking of history, there are plenty of museums to visit, some focusing on the Island, including the Manx Museum in Douglas and the House of Manannan in Peel, some based around motoring, such as the Isle of Man Motor Museum in Jurby, and Murray’s Motorcycle Museum in Santon. On the road to the Calf of Man, the village of Cregneash is a living museum, and Castle Rushen in Castletown is the perfect destination for a rainy day.

The TT course hasn’t always included the Mountain Road – on a day off from the racing, seek out the original race circuits – the St John’s Course, a 15 mile route used for the 1907 TT, and the 10 mile Clypse Course which was used between 1954 and 1959.

And keep an eye out for other racing taking place around the same time – the Billown Course near Castletown hosts the Pre- and Post-TT Classics, which many of the TT riders take part in. There is usually beach racing taking place in Peel and Douglas, plus stock car racing at Onchan Raceway. And don’t forget the World Famous Purple Helmets!

For race days, find spectating spots which are different to your usual haunts. Maybe watch the commentary team in action at Glen Helen or Ramsey Hairpin, or gradually work your way round the course spectating from a different pub each time. Or if you’re feeling brave, attempt a TT circuit pub crawl on a non-race day!

One of my favourite spectating spots which people tend to overlook is the entry to Governor’s Dip under the trees – there is always plenty of room on the grass, and you get a close-up view of the machines as they tip into the hairpin, around the famous white-painted stone post. If you walk up the hill slightly, you can sit on the high bank – one of the few places left on the course where the bikes still go under your feet.

I also recommend having a bit of a walk around Ramsey – not too far from Parliament Square you can nip down the side streets and escape the crowds, or cross at the footbridge and watch from the inside of the course.

An emergency cake stop at St Ninian’s Church

And I can’t end this article without mentioning cake! I am always on the lookout for new and interesting places to have cake, and am currently most excited about going back to the little café in the steam train station at Port Erin, for lemon drizzle and a trip back in time.

The Isle of Man really is full of surprises, even when you’ve visited so often you think you’ve seen everything. I haven’t even scratched the surface here, but hopefully I’ve given you some ideas for some new adventures!

2nd June 2021

TT 2013: Revisited – The Ultimate Price

Following on from the last piece, this is the second of my ‘TT 2013: revisited’ articles. In this collection, instead of writing about all things TT happening this year (there are none!) I have been back to a series of blogs I wrote during the TT in 2013, the first year I spent in the paddock with friends racing, and probably the most involved I’d been up to that point.

I decided to write these blogs back then as there were already dozens of people reporting on the racing, the top 10, the big names and so on, but I wanted to remind people that the TT is so much more than that. It means so much to so many for a plethora of reasons. With thousands of visitors each year, from all corners of the globe it is quite unlike anything else. Racing on public roads, closed only hours before racing starts and reopened to the population and visitors soon after racing is completed for the day. Bikes reaching speeds of 200mph plus with no run off, no kitty litter, lots of trees and stone walls, wild life and umpteen other things that make it hair raising exciting, also means that sometimes, things do go badly and sadly wrong.

The blog I’m sharing today was one I wrote following the sad death of Yoshi Matsushita on 27th May 2013. He was a popular figure around the paddock, albeit not a ‘headline’ name he was well known and liked…

It’s been a strange day today, the sort that none of us like to see. The weather on the Island cast a shadow over whether or not the practice session would go ahead. I was so sure it wouldn’t that at 3.30pm I was still making the most of a soggy Bank Holiday Monday by lounging on the couch in my pyjamas catching up on my Sky+! However, as is often the way here, almost in the blink of an eye the sun had come out & the roads were drying. Visibility was improving on the mountain and the decision was made that practice would go ahead, but untimed and only for Superstock, Supersport & then the Sidecars. A quick phone call with best buddy and I was showered, dried, dressed and in the car heading up to Kirk Michael before the roads closed.

As is usually the way, we had Manx Radio TT, the website, the app & the usual social networks going to see what was happening. The webcams showed it clearing up top, and apart from a delay in the start (due in part to a broken down coach on the Mountain) it looked like everything was to go ahead ok. As the start time approached, we added the layers of clothes and made a cuppa and once we knew the first bikes were through Glen Helen we headed outside. As we were up at the Grandstand on Saturday, this was our first experience of TT2013 bikes at close quarters, and the thrill as they flew past, just feet from us, was as powerful as ever. No words will ever truly describe what it is to see it, and if you are a racing fan who has never been to watch a road race, there are quite simply two words – do it. The bikes continued past, and I shot a couple of short videos on my phone to share with all my Twitter pals. We watched through a couple of our racing friends and felt that relieved feeling to see them circulating on good lines & looking well.

As best buddy pops in to check the info, in prep for the sideys outing, the marshals up and down the road are waving the yellow flags… Then, we hear that the red flag is out at the Grandstand and the session has been stopped. My heart sinks & my stomach knots. This is not usually a good sign. An announcement comes through about an incident at Ballacrye and the feeling of impending sadness worsens.

Three or 4 years ago, that would have been that until news came to us through the website or on the radio. However, with the event of social media its very different today. Of course we all want to know everyone we have an interest in is safe, be it our favourite rider, a friend or a relative. What we don’t want is the ghoulish curiosity & people trying to fill in the gaps about who it is, and how severe the incident could be, and all the misinformation that comes with that. If you’ve been around the event before there are certain things you recognise as bad signs – no further information, bikes escorted back around the course by the TM’s and the like don’t bode well. The tweets start flying round – some of genuine concern by people wanting reassurance about friends – as well as those where people are guessing who it could be, or what could have happened. And then the worst possible news comes through the official lines. TT2013 has suffered it’s first fatality. In the main, everybody is respectful and there is a feeling of sadness that our sport has again lost one of its own.

The harsh reality hits home. One of the main reasons we love this sport is the thrill, the challenge, and the seemingly superhuman strength shown by our riders. But this has a cost, and tonight Yoshinari Matsushita has paid the ultimate price. There is no doubt he died doing something that he loved. There is no doubt that he knew the risks. Every rider who signs up to race the Mountain Course is acutely aware of the worst that could happen. Of course, most of them don’t go out thinking ‘I could be about to die’ but they know the risk is there. Their families & friends know. It’s not something that we dwell on though. If we did, then I doubt there would be any racing. It’s part of the package, but it’s the part that we don’t really talk about, which is why when it happens we all feel the same shock and sadness.

As fans, we are generally a respectful bunch, we all have our thoughts of condolence for the fallen riders, family & friends, and in all honesty a fleeting thanks to the racing gods that our own are safe. But in these sad times we also then hear the voice of the ‘anti’ who seem to be on the sidelines, waiting for something like this to happen in order to start with their cries of ‘See? We knew this would happen! It’s dangerous! Ban it!’ It’s easy to get drawn into discussion (argument) as we’re a passionate lot, but we must always remember we also know when to show respect and be dignified.

Of course we feel frustration that this is perpetuated by the main stream news media – this evenings sad loss has already been reported by the main news channels. But will they mention the TT when records are being broken? I doubt it. If McGuinness makes it 20? Or more? Unlikely. Because that’s not in the common interest. There’s only a small percentage of the population who care. But there’s the thing you see. We do care. The biking community are a caring & respectful bunch – I was proud to see multiple Rides of Respect in honour of the fallen soldier Lee Rigby (RIP), as I am when I see Egg Runs at Easter, Toy Runs at Christmas, the RBLR events and so many other examples of charity & community support. This is why we shouldn’t engage in arguments with those who don’t understand it, we should continue to stand together, support each other during the sad times and celebrate during the good times. Remember those no longer with us and celebrate their achievements. Respect where it is due.

RIP Yoshinari Matsushita and all the other riders who have fallen before him.

1st June 2021

First Timer’s Guide to the Isle of Man TT

The atmosphere starts when you arrive at the ferry terminal. Perhaps you’re hot and bothered, having negotiated your way through the centre of Liverpool along with the rest of the world, or maybe you’ve arrived at Heysham Port, all smug with how easy the last bit of the journey is along the new bypass. Perhaps you’ve only travelled a few miles. Or maybe it’s been an expedition just to get here.

And suddenly the world is a sea of bikes, all loaded to the gunnels and beyond, and you’re lined up three abreast in the car lanes alongside a few battered vans covered in stickers. You get separated from your mate, as you’ve managed to get everything into your rucksack, but he’s got the widest panniers in the world so has been sent into a different queue.

If you’re one of the lucky ones to get on board first, you do a quick dash to grab a table in the bar, or if you’re on the overnight, nab somewhere to stretch out on the floor without being tripped over every 5 minutes. Otherwise you hang around outside waiting to board, judging people’s packing abilities, and checking that all your bits are still where they should be. This is it. Your first time to the Isle of Man for the TT. Will it be everything that everyone says it is?

A three and a bit hour sailing, and it’s time to disembark. Back on the car deck you do your best impression of a Krypton Factor contestant – limboing under chest-high ropes in full bike gear, squeezing between panniers and exhausts, trying not to catch your rucksack on mirrors, and then trying to figure out where on earth the end of the rope is and how the hell to untie it.

And then your row starts to move. A bit of concentration as you negotiate the humps and bumps and slippery bits on the car deck, and then you’re on the ramp. Out into the fresh air. You’ve made it. You have officially arrived on the Isle of Man, ready to take in the greatest road racing in the world.

But where do you start? There’s so much to do and see…

Ask anyone who’s been before, and they will have their own recommendations, their own favourites and must-dos. I’m going to be one of those people – I’ve been going to the Isle of Man TT and Manx Grand Prix for over 15 years, I also marshal the races, and I lived on the Island for a couple of years in my 20’s. So even though no one has asked, I’ll give you some thoughts on how to plan your trip to get the best out of it, and give you a taste of the TT fortnight. But be warned. The Isle of Man TT is addictive. You’ll be planning your next trip even before you’ve left.

Two pieces of advice:

Don’t have an itinerary. Make a list, but keep it flexible. Remember everything is governed by the weather. Hopefully it’ll be cracking the flags and you’ll be stocking up on suncream. But you might well end up sulking in your tent, wondering if you can be bothered to go to the pub. So have some rainy day plans as well.

Talk to people. Particularly if you’re on a campsite, you’ll be surrounded be people who will have been before. Get chatting and find out where they suggest – maybe they’ve got a spectacular spectating spot, or have discovered a cracking chippy.

I’ve done quite a lot of spectating over the years, I really enjoy going off somewhere and spending the day with my earpiece radio and race guide. I like to have a couple of beers while I’m watching, so my spectating revolves around public transport. But it is still possible to get away from the crowds without too much walking. And the public transport on the Island is superb – clean, on time, not too rammed, and the buses have free wifi.

Where’s good for spectating? Have a think about what kind of racing you want to see. Do you want to experience flat out speed? Do you want a slow bit where you can see the whites of their eyes? A technical bit? The mountain? Famous locations? Near a pub? In a hedge? The possibilities are endless. Bear in mind that in some places you’ll be stuck there until the roads open, and on the mountain there’s a further wait while the one-way system is put back in place. And not everywhere has the luxury of toilets or a burger van.

Weather forecasts are only so much use – the Island is renowned for its microclimates, and I’ve lost count of the times it’s been glorious in Ramsey but everything is delayed as the heavens have opened at the grandstand, or the mountain is shrouded in mist.

Also, even on a stunning day, it’s chilly in the shade, particularly if you’re not moving around. There’s nothing more miserable than going to a suntrap in your shorts and t-shirt, and as the day goes on the sun moves round and everyone else is now wearing seventeen layers and there’s another couple of hours ’til the roads open.

I always try and spend one of the race days spectating up the mountain. Bus to Laxey, buy a picnic and a few beers in the corner shop, and then join the enormous queue for a tram up to Bungalow. On race days the trams stop short of the road, but you can cross over the footbridge and jump on another tram to the summit. I usually walk up towards the old museum building and Joey’s statue, find a shady spot to keep my picnic cool and then I’m set for the day. And you can always wander back down to the tram and head up to the summit for cake.

I would definitely recommend spectating at least one practice session from the Grandstand – tickets are cheaper and easier to get hold of, and as practice takes place from about 6pm you can spend a couple of hours wandering round the paddock, watch scrutineering, and do a bit of souvenir shopping, all the while keeping an eye out for famous faces.

And don’t forget your time away from the racing. Do you want to spend it in the pub, soaking up the atmosphere? Or do you want to do a bit of exploring? For a lazy day I can highly recommend the ice cream parlour by the Villa Marina on Douglas prom – there is loads of outside seating, and it’s great for watching the world go by, particularly when a ferry has just unloaded. Most events are listed in the programme, from live music to beach racing to stunt shows to fireworks to Red Arrows displays, but it’s definitely worth picking up a local paper for more gig listings.

There’s plenty to do if the weather doesn’t play ball. Have an adventure on a steam train or the electric tram, visit one of the several museums around the Island – the Douglas museum usually has a TT-themed exhibition, and the Villa Marina cinema in Douglas shows a selection of bike-themed films. Or there is always the pub.

And a handy hint – many churches around the island open up as cafes during TT fortnight, quite often with photography displays. I can highly recommend St Ninian’s, with it’s TT-themed stained glass windows, an upstairs exhibition space, and excellent lemon drizzle cake. Maybe next year I’ll work on doing a cake-based guide to TT fortnight…

The TT really is a holiday like no other, and if you’ve never been I hope I’ve given you a taste of it. Just writing this has made me long to be back there – I’ve got my sailings booked for next year, and I’m already counting the days ’til I pack my rucksack and head up to Heysham on my Ducati Scrambler.

Whatever you decide to do while you’re over there, you’ll be planning your next trip even before you set off home.

31st May 2021

TT 2013 Revisited – Practice Week

In the absence of the IOM TT racing this year (2021), instead of looking forward as I would usually by now, I spent some time looking back. Since I moved to the Island in 1999, TT has been the highlight of my year. As the years pass by, I have experienced highs and lows, joy, excitement, friendship, camaraderie, team work and so many other great things. There have been terrible lows; times of fear, of worry, of disappointment and overwhelming sadness. Road racing is a cruel mistress – she has a hold over those who have committed to her that is really quite hard to explain, she is brilliant yet cruel… and very hard to walk away from.

For many years, the fortnight was whirlwind of escaping work on time to watch practice, catching up with visiting friends, socialising, and of course the main event – the racing. My best mate of twenty years lived on the course, so it was usual to spend race days there. She was part of a big family, and they had pretty much adopted me as one of them. There were always visitors and the days were brilliant fun sat on her wall with the bikes just feet away, combined with access to clean toilets, cold beer and good food. Most years one of the visitors is her brother, who has a keen interest (obsession?!) in bikes and has often talked of his dream to race the TT in his sidecar. In 2013, it was finally time for his dream to become a reality…. During the fortnight, I decided to write a blog about the week and how it unfolded, and with no TT happening this year I have revisited my scribblings and I’d like to share them again to give you readers that may not have seen them before a view of the Isle of Man TT from a slightly different perspective. This first instalment is a summary of the first practice and is pretty much exactly as I wrote it 8 years ago…

I remember when we heard he’d entered his sidecar – a mixture of admiration (how amazing to get to do something you’ve always dreamed of) along with a twinge of fear. I’m sure I don’t need to explain that. The months have passed and now here we are….

I head to meet my buddy so we can all go to the Grandstand to see him off. When we get there, we find them getting the bike ready to go and be scrutineered. The tension is palpable – her brother is usually a pretty chilled and laid-back guy, but you can see that he is more edgy than usual. His partner is quieter than usual and best buddy is doing her best to keep busy. Having got there at 4ish, those couple of hours seem to go on forever. But then suddenly it’s 6pm and the last-minute preparation is in full flow. I’d expected to leave them and head up to sit in the Grandstand to watch, but there are enough team passes so I get to go into Parc Ferme and down pit lane to see them off. I’m excited as I’ve not been quite so close to the action ever before.

It’s a bit like entering an inner sanctum, and I’m a little awestruck seeing so many faces that I recognise – McPint, Rutter, MD amongst others are milling about in readiness for the lightweights, old hands who have been here a million times before amongst the orange vests of the newcomers here for the very first time. A small gathering of journalists indicates there is somebody a lot of people are watching – Josh Brookes in his controversial leathers carrying the neon orange colouring over the top half. We make our way down pit lane and see the solo newcomers setting off on their controlled lap. The knot in my stomach is getting tighter as the boys get their lids on and get settled in the outfit. The roar of engines starting up around us, and that smell…. The knot has now sent a lump to my throat and I see the anxious faces of the partners and family, trying their best to act normal so as to keep the boys calm. And then they get the nod to move forwards….and they’re off…. We watch them launch onto the road and disappear off into the distance to St Ninians and for a minute we’re all silent. One of the girls surreptitiously wipes a tear from her eye and I say nothing but put my arm round her & hand her a tissue (I was a girl guide, always prepared!) We make our way back to Parc Ferme and wait.

It seems like an eternity. I am messaging everyone I can think of who may be out around the course to let us know when they see them go through. I get a message from Kirk Michael – they’ve passed there, and the girls look relieved. After what seems like forever the outfits start coming in and from our spot, we crane our necks as one after another pulls in. And then they are there. Huge sighs of relief all round – they’ve done their first lap on the most famous 37 and three quarter mile stretch of road there is. The lads park up, and everyone buzzes around them. How was it? How did it feel? How was the outfit, the visors, the flies, the light etc etc.. I am kind of on the fringe, and then something is needed from the awning. In a bid to feel useful I set off trotting back down there. A couple of hours ago it was buzzing on their paddock, but now it is like a ghost town. I wonder how the other teams have got on and think about how surreal this feels. I am suddenly part of a race team! I grab the bits I need and set off back up the way. It’s worth noting I haven’t run anywhere for about 20 years and vow it will be 20 years before I do it again!! As I get back to them, they’re starting to move the outfit down to its slot on pit lane in readiness for the next outing.

This time they are not restricted, and the tension is building again. The pit lane is buzzing, lots of clusters of people gathered around each outfit, riders perched on walls with headphones in shutting out the hustle and bustle and getting in the zone. Engines starting up & shutting off, the outfits and leathers an explosion of colour in the evening sunshine. This time everyone in our little group seems calmer but it is still an anxious wait. I look up to the grandstand – it’s packed with people, probably helped by the fact it is a beautiful evening on the rock with clear skies and glorious sunshine. Engines are being started and the guys are moving into position ready to go. They get the tap on the shoulder and they’re off again. I remember the TT App and start following the feed to see their names pop up….they’re through Ballaugh, Ramsey, Bungalow, Cronk ny Mona and then they whizz past us at the Grandstand and they’re off again. We tell ourselves that’s a good sign – if they went round again the first can’t have been that bad!!

As the faster, more experienced guys start to arrive back we keep our eye on the app to get clues. It feels like an age and as people arrive back the buzz gets quieter as people leave pit lane and parc ferme and head back to their bases. The people next to us get a call to say their team has run out of fuel. A travelling marshal sets off to start the sweeps of the course. There’s no sign yet but we’re told the last two outfits are still circulating. The clock ticks closer to 9pm, and the app catches back up with itself and shows them at Cronk ny Mona….The spanner & the drivers son are on pit wall, I’m with the drivers partner at the end of the return lane. Son shouts back to us that they’re here and there’s that feeling of relief again. I suddenly realise the sun has dropped and its getting very chilly. This time it’s smiles all round and we make our way back to base with a spring in our step.

Best buddy has been down a while and done what she does best and got the brews on and as we warm our hands we hear about the experience the boys have just had. The evening draws to a close as the sun sets on first practice and we head home. This time next week, subject to weather, qualifying and a big chunk of luck they’ll have done their first race.

But for tonight, we’re happy they’re home safe