Nestled among the pines in this fast-growing town northeast of Atlanta is a road-racing facility that challenges professional drivers and riders from around the world.
A few days a year, this paved playground known as Road Atlanta is transformed into an institution of higher learning for motorcyclists when Kevin Schwantz, a former 500 Grand Prix world champion, conducts his performance riding school.
Recently, I joined two dozen other riders for a one-day lesson at the Kevin Schwantz Suzuki School, where class time is split between lectures and laps on Road Atlanta’s 2.54-mile road course.
Billed as “a riding school, not a racing school,” the program, in its second year, is open to anyone with a motorcycle license, medical insurance and basic riding competence.
Tuition starts at $495 for a one-day class or $890 for two days, provided you show up with a head-to-toe suit of racing gear and a track-ready Suzuki motorcycle sporting fresh tires.
For an extra $100 a day, the school provides the necessary course materials, including an Arai helmet, a suit of Joe Rocket leathers and Alpinestars racing boots and gloves. An additional $200 a day allows students to check out bikes from a stable of track-ready Suzukis consisting of racy GSX-R600s and user-friendly SV-650s. If you own something other than a Suzuki, you would need to do this to take the class.
Though the equipment add-ons make for an expensive day, it’s the way to go for students who want to fly in, ride and fly out with a minimum of drama at the airport.
School begins at 7:30 a.m. in a track-side classroom with white boards, a giant track map, a projector for showing videos and PowerPoint presentations and plenty of coffee.
First up are instructor introductions and credentials, beginning with Schwantz and chief instructor Lance Holst, who worked together to develop the curriculum.
A rare natural, Schwantz began serious road racing in 1984 after spending his teenage years as a dominating amateur dirtbike rider in his native Texas.
He was quickly discovered by race-team owner and Cycle News magazine editor John Ulrich, who arranged a live-race tryout for Schwantz with the Suzuki-supported Team Yoshimura at the end of his first season.
After a grand total of three practice laps at Southern California’s Willow Springs racetrack, Schwantz proceeded to ride the wheels of Team Yoshimura’s superbike, claiming victory in two consecutive races and beating several professional racers in the process.
At the end of the day, Schwantz was offered a ride with Team Yoshimura for the following year. Just like that, he went from talented-but-green amateur to professional racer. Come spring he’d be racing at the Daytona 200 in the AMA Superbike class, the big league of U.S. racing, against big-name champions like Wayne Rainey and Freddie Merkel.
He regularly beat those guys–and everybody else–and by 1986 he was racing abroad in Grand Prix 500 races, the highest level of international motorcycle racing. In 1993 he achieved legendary status by winning six pole positions, four races and the World Championship.
Holst, a former bike tester for Motorcyclist and Sport Rider magazines, has a 14-year racing resume and in the early ’80s held the No. 1 plate assigned to the top rider in the Southern California road racing region.
A great communicator with a laid-back demeanor, Holst presides over the “lecture” portions of the class and outlines fundamentals while Schwantz demonstrates technique, provides color and lends his Texas-sized been-there credibility.
Assisting them are eight former and current racers–Lee Acree, Tray Batey, Opie Caylor, Brad Coleman, Tedd Cobb, Jamie James, Brian Stokes and Harry Vanderlinden–who handle the on-track instruction.
The day I took the class, student introductions revealed a wide range of riders, from accomplished racers hoping to polish track techniques to cruiser owners looking to become sharper on the street. I am confident on the street, but new to the track and hoping to learn my way around in a structured environment.
After Holst divided us into two groups based on our level of track experience, Schwantz told us the key to success is to “forget what you think you know” and treat every corner as a learning opportunity.
After a quick review of the class syllabus, track rules and rider etiquette, Holst sent us out for a few warm-up laps to get familiar with Road Atlanta’s Grand Prix course. The track surface was still cold after a frosty night, so we were warned to take it easy.
Initial impressions
The first thing that occurred is just how wide the track is. With a good 10 seconds or more between riders, it’s like having a rolling, curvy three-lane freeway almost to yourself.
Even at a mellow pace, the course requires a good bit of shifting, braking and leaning. At Road Atlanta, a succession of quick turns put riders on their toes before being treated to fast straight-aways followed by slow, tight corners.
Speed takes on a different meaning on the track. When entering a corner, there are three possible speeds: too fast, too slow and just right. Miles per hour cease to matter in the absence of posted limits and radar traps. To drive this point home, the speedometer faces on the track bikes were taped over.
After about five or six laps, we headed back to the classroom to begin learning racers’ tricks and techniques.
“It’s about finding a rhythm,” Schwantz said. “When you don’t have it, everything’s just coming, coming, coming. But once you find it, it really allows the whole process to happen real smooth.”
To help riders find their rhythm, the course breaks down the process of hustling around the track into components. After a 20-minute lecture on each, students hit the track for 20 minutes to try out what they just learned.
While my group stayed in the classroom to learn how vision and concentration form the foundation of smooth riding, the other group headed out for a practice session.
“The key to keeping your rhythm is to always be ahead of the motorcycle, both visually and mentally,” Holst said. “The minute you get behind, you’re suddenly reacting to what the bike is doing rather than anticipating and planning ahead.”
After covering practical tactics for staying ahead of the bike, it was our turn for the track, as the other group came in for classroom lessons.
One advantage of the format is that the school bikes always have warm engines and tires, so they’re ready to go the first lap out. The alternating schedule also nets students maximum access to the on-track instructors, who typically ratio two to three per student.
They circulate the tracks like sharks, with some signaling “follow me” to demonstrate the correct line through a corner while others follow students unnoticed to give one-on-one advice after each session.
Each time an instructor would advise a student after class, he’d use a fat magic marker to sign a sticker on the back of the student’s helmet. The teachers used these markings on the track to identify which students hadn’t had one-on-one instruction and make sure everyone got their fair share.
Some of the day’s lessons–gear selection or identifying the exact moment to apply the brakes, for instance–are theoretical and required heavy use of the track map and students’ imagination. Others, such as body positioning or steering techniques, involved Schwantz using the stationary in-class GSX-R to demonstrate his techniques.
One of the first things Schwantz told us is that we’d have to slow down to go fast, and after a few tentative laps, I was able to ride smoother and quicker each lesson. I was starting to feel pretty good, especially on the SV-650, which mates smooth, predictable V-twin power with a sporting but forgiving chassis.
But every few corners, I’d make a mistake in braking, shifting or line selection, which caused me to get behind in my concentration and slow down to get things in order. Those setbacks were gentle reminders that the hard part of proficient riding is nailing the mental aspects, which Schwantz said is 90 percent of the game.
One of the last lessons focused on controlling panic instincts that come from getting in over your head or encountering something unexpected on a bike. These instincts, which generally cause you to do the opposite of what you should be doing, can make a bad situation worse. The key is to stay loose, focused and confident.
This lesson proved valuable on the last track session. With the sun hanging low, I was foolishly pushing my tired limits though Road Atlanta’s Turns 2, 3 and 4 when several things went wrong.
After losing track of the racing line–the ideal path around the track– I found myself one gear too high in the middle of the series of quick turns.
Then I botched the downshift by allowing the engine r.p.m.’s to fall too low when I pulled in the clutch. The resulting chirp of the back tire when I re-engaged the transmission upset the bike’s balance just as I needed to lean into Turn 3. Just like that the back end slid out then regained purchase, threatening to pitch me off in the process.
I grabbed the clutch to disengage power from the rear wheel and found myself cruising through the grass, short-cutting Turn 4 while a corner worker grabbed a yellow flag to warn other riders of the situation. By staying loose and watching carefully for an entrance, I was able to roll back onto the track with only a little emotional stress and no physical trauma.
After a couple of clean laps to erase the memory, I headed back to the pits and called it a day. There was no question I was a better track rider, but the off-track expedition cemented in my mind that the class would make me a better street rider as well.
Like any school, Schwantz’s ends with graduation ceremonies. Because there were no crashes, we all received a nice certificate. The final order of business was to award a new set of motorcycle tires from school sponsor Michelin to the day’s most-improved student.
Though I didn’t get the rubber, I took home something more important–a foundation to build on every time I go to the track to practice high-performance riding.
Turning off panic instinct is key to avoiding trouble
Whether on the street or track, one factor that’s often present before a mishap is rider panic. The human body’s hard-wired panic instincts can make it difficult to dig out of trouble by compounding the situation. The Kevin Schwantz Suzuki School teaches students to identify their panic instincts and address them with specific behaviors. The theories are simple; the hard part is training your mind and body to override what comes naturally.
Panic instinct: Target fixation
Cause/effect: A car suddenly pulls out directly in front of you. Then the driver sees you coming and slams on the brakes. Your eyes become as wide as saucers as you grab hard on the front brake and brace for impact.
Solution: Look in the direction you want to go–around the obstacle, not into it.
Panic instinct: Tunnel vision
Cause/effect: You’ve allowed your mind to wander on a long, straight stretch of country highway when you crest a hill and are confronted with a 90-degree left turn. All you can see is the edge of the pavement directly in front of you, followed by gravel, a barbed-wire fence and a large cow.
Solution: Look deep into the corner where you need to go–not off the road. Your motorcycle will go where you point it.
Panic instinct: Tense up, stop breathing
Cause/effect: You’re riding a curvy road with a more experienced rider and taking corners faster than you feel comfortable in an ill-advised attempt to keep up. You notice your heart is pounding, your arms are burning and your riding is getting dangerously sloppy.
Solution: Relax and breathe; you can’t ride smoothly if you’re depriving your mind and body of oxygen and wasting energy by tensing up.
Panic instinct: Chop the throttle, grab the brakes
Cause/effect: Fatigue has gotten the better of you and you find yourself drifting toward the oncoming lane in a sharp right turn. You slam the throttle shut and go for the brakes. The back end starts to slide, and you barely avoid a spill by coasting into the oncoming lane. Fortunately, no one was coming.
Solution: Stay smooth on the controls. Your sudden (and incorrect) inputs upset the bike’s balance and nearly caused you to crash. If you’d have eased only slightly off the throttle and leaned a bit more into the turn, you’d have made it through easily.
Panic instinct: Freeze up
Cause/effect: You’ve been working on your skills at an open track day and find yourself riding smoother and faster than ever. You’re leaned way over and looking through a tight turn when suddenly you hear and feel a metallic grinding as your left foot peg touches the pavement. Fearing you’ve gone too far, you freeze up, roll off the throttle and nearly get rear-ended by the rider behind you.
Solution: Trust your tires and realize you can make it through the corner, even with the peg on pavement. Your bike was made to lean.
