Not Valentino—if anything he was a bit short on luck yesterday, finding himself on the pavement after fighting into the lead of the last British GP at Donington Park. I mean me, since I still sometimes can’t believe it when I find myself trackside at another MotoGP event or speaking to someone who not long ago was only a character on television.
Saturday morning, for example, as I entered the paddock I found Davide Brivio, Fiat Yamaha team manager, going the same direction and talked to him a bit as we walked toward the media center, in my case, and the garages in his. He expressed his worry and frustration with the English weather and how uncertain it was for Sunday. He is a man who deals with many, many variables as he tries to win another championship for the Yamaha factory team; the weather is always a factor, even if it isn’t wet. Too hot, too cold, even in between, it seems no weather conditions suit each track so well that he can forget about weather and think only about the many other concerns he has.
I commented that at least he has two riders who are both fast in the wet, and he just shrugged, saying, “In the wet, anything can happen.” That turned out to be a prophetic statement, or at least one based on years of experience; both of his riders, Valentino Rossi and Jorge Lorenzo, crashed out of the lead of the British Grand Prix.
At the time I had complete faith in Rossi’s ability to make sure anything didn’t happen, and fully expected him to take control and keep it. I was shocked when he crashed on the 20th lap. On lap 19 I started walking from beneath the Starkeys Bridge to the spot from which I’d taken my photos of the pack coming down Craner Curves for the last time on lap one. But it wasn’t Valentino leading down the hill, it was Dovizioso. I was shocked, and I flashed back to Brivio’s comment. “Anything can happen.”
Earlier that day I’d been thinking the same thing, but in a different context. I’d been looking for a shot of Donington I’d remember in the years to come as THE Donington image in my collection, and I decided it had to be of the Craner Curves, one of my favorite sections of track on the GP calendar. I’d hoped to have a scooter for Sunday, but that hadn’t worked out, so I’d planed to take the media shuttle out to that section of the course and just hoof it back after the race. Most tracks have some sort of shuttle service to deliver photographers who don’t have scooters, and at Donington this meant a large van that actually went out on the track, which was very cool. The van would just drop you wherever you wanted to be, and you’d get out and walk to the side and hop over the concrete wall. Race day craziness, though, meant that the shuttle was not allowed out on the track as scheduled. But I’d been chatty with the driver, Steve, several times over the weekend and he generously offered to get me as close as possible by taking the service round on the perimeter as far as it would allow. That ended up being pretty far from where I’d planed to get my shot of the pack coming down the hill on lap 1. I’d figured I’d go to the outside of the track and shoot back up the hill from there. But the shuttle couldn’t get that far, and I ended up walking to the infield instead, wondering how that would work out and if I would get lucky yet again.
I entered the fence at the left of this picture, where the gravel trap is cut off, and walked down toward the first set of marshals in orange overalls. I shot the 125s from that area before considering the next set of marshals at the end of the low wall that passes under the Cinzano bridge. During the break before the 250s race, I asked a marshal if I were allowed out there and he said that if it was okay with those guys, it was okay with him.
I walked out onto the grass and expected at any moment to find someone running toward me waving his arms. On Friday a photographer had been called in to see the Race Director after venturing too far from the center wall that divides the track between the Fogerty Esses and Melbourne Hairpin. I did NOT want to be next to have to make that visit. But no one fussed when I arrived at a spot that made me feel once again that anything can happen. How the heck did I end up there, standing out in the middle of that place, looking up at Craner Curves?
See the orange jumpsuits in front of the Cinzano bridge? That’s where I watched the first laps of the 250s and the MotoGP races. I could turn around and see one of the big TVs behind me. As the riders approached the top of the hill, I would turn from the TV and watch them coming down toward me. I can’t say I’ve yet gotten really used to how amazing it is to be trackside during a MotoGP race, and standing out there with no fence at all was unbelievable.
I got my picture of the pack coming down the hill on lap one, and it ended up being much different from what I’d have if the shuttle had gone out on track as planned. I’d have been on the other side of the track and had a different angle, something like this: 
Personally I’m much happier with the symmetry of the backwards “S” I got from the middle of the field. What a lucky set of events! I was really glad I’d taken the time to get to know Steve the driver a bit earlier in the weekend—no idea if he’d have been so willing to help me otherwise.
But being out there was a great way to finish off an amazing two weekends of MotoGP and to say farewell to Donington Park. Farewell, unless, of course, I get to come back for WSBK or, ahem, Formula 1. Who knows? Could I get that lucky?
