It’s a sound unlike any other.

Break the mould just this once.

This isn’t a weekly update, but I am compelled to post for many reasons. The first of which starts with the photo above. There is several things wrong with this photo. I wonder if you can see what?

No? Yes? Let me tell you.

The first thing you can see is that this is a motorcycle, obviously. And it’s travelling on gravel. Now, that’s no big deal, but let me elaborate. This, as you can see by the screen identification, is a man named Jed Heath. I’ve never met Jed so I don’t really know much about him. But I know that he shouldn’t be on a motorcycle like this, in some gravel. And he especially shouldn’t be travelling at the speed he was travelling at when he reached the hairpin gravel section of Knockhill Racing Circuit, near Dunfermline, Fife, Scotland, UK. You’ll also note, he’s not braking.

I was at Knockhill this weekend with Rossy Boyo for the Jock Taylor Superprix, a celebration of Mr. Taylor winning the sidecar world championships in 1980. There was the usual support series including the GP400′s, which is what Jed Heath was riding.

We had started the weekend at the pit straight, followed by the bottom of the Seat Curves and the Scotsman, taking photos and getting our techniques in to shape. We drove around eventually to the “Carlube” corner and found it to be a bit lax, although the loudspeaker system which pumps out some irritating twat fumbling his way through times and interviews at obscene volumes was broken, so it offered us a bit of a rest. Following the completion of the Superstock 600′s in which our very own Stuart Jackson (of Jackson’s Bikes) was racing, we headed around to the hairpin for some closer in action shots, and some shade from the sun beating down upon our (or at least my) reddening faces.

The sidecars spun their way around and finished quickly. A man with a small boy turned up with a Nikon camera (with a stumpy looking lens) and a laptop of all things. No bags, just those two items…and his wee boy.

The 400′s, Forgotten Era’s and the 125′s headed out on track at once and I decided to switch to black and white on my camera to try and get some nice oldy looking shots with the Forgotten Era bikes. I was shooting in JPG as well, meaning these black and white’s were baked in to the files (instead of RAW where you can remove the black and white setting should you want to…)ANYWAY. I mention this only to make it clear that I didn’t translate these following photos in to black and white for “effect”, for impact or show. It was just unfortunately the setting I was in when this happened.

So they went round a few times to get their tyres warmed up a bit and the grid set up and off they went. I moved a bit further up the hairpin whilst Ross stayed close to the outer edge of it. The man with the small child/laptop was in between us. And then it happened.

I was locked on to Jed which was strange in itself as I had been resting my now knackered arms in between the Forgotten Era bikes going past. But I had my camera to my face and was locked on to Jed and I was immediately aware that something wasn’t right. Usually by the time they get to the hairpin you can see the front diving and the sound of hard braking, rev’s getting lower possibly some tyre screech. With Jed however, when I locked on to him his bike was still going as fast, there was no dive of the front, no reduction of engine pitch.

My camera was on continuous shooting mode but for some reason it takes two very quick photos, there’s a wee pause and then a third photo. It’s not really “continuous” in any sense of the word. I took the first of the two quick photos as he entered the sand trap. The next quick photo captured the photo above. The next photo, after the short pause, showed him or rather a wheel of his bike, sticking out of the now seriously inflated air fence.

Jed hit that fence with a sound that, like all things of horrific nature, isn’t heard anywhere else.  We all knew how serious this could be and my initial reaction, after the air fence impact photo, was to turn to Ross who looked at me with such horror that I swear I have never seen before in anyone. The sound was that of a motorcycle going past you, flat throttle with no increase or decrease of pitch, with some gravel noises thrown in and then a hollow “boffffffffffff”. Then silence. No “OH MY’s” or sweary words. Just silence.

We watched together as the marshals whipped across that gravel barely touching the surface and were in that air fence before the fence came back down. Red flags were being waved ferociously as the other racer’s continued on unaware of Jed’s fate. A few seconds later, after rooting around deep within the tyre fence, a man emerged and stood up, resting himself on the airfence beside his impact point. A collective sigh of relief washed down the spectators box and Ross walked over, shouting how certain he was that Jed was dead. “You can’t go in to a fence at that speed and survive.”

And he was right. Jed was travelling at full speed when he skipped across the gravel and hit that fence. It’s a long straight leading up to that hairpin and these 400′s are quick. How he is standing there, talking to the paramedics, who had arrived shortly afterwards, is a miracle.

We had a moment of reflection, Ross and I, as we watched the bloke get his laptop out the case, and then proceed to upload a photo, presumably of the crash, to somewhere. Instant coverage…

Our day was coming to an end anyway by this point but we watched a few more races and then headed back to the paddock to speak to Stuart before heading home.

I got home and after having a shower and my tea, I sat down to transfer my day’s catch on to the computer. I was interested to see how the black and white ones came out, as well as my longer exposure ones (the really blurred fast looking ones).

And then Jed’s sequence appeared on screen.

It’s been a bit of a thinker for me tonight as I cropped these photos for YamYam. In the photographs of Jed travelling across the gravel, I can see his eyes in one. I said to Em, “This would have a completely different significance had Jed not been so lucky” to which she replied, “you’re full of joy tonight.”

But it’s true. In any number of ways Jed could have not have been so fortunate. His bike could have skipped up at the last minute making him miss the air fence…etc. etc. And this photo would have been the last moment of his existence. His last point of being in the world.

On every Knockhill ticket it states “WARNING MOTORSPORT CAN BE DANGEROUS. Despite the organisers taking all reasonable precautions, unavoidable accidents can happen. In respect of these, you are present at your own risk.”

“…you are present at your own risk”.

I couldn’t help think that the risk involved for us isn’t getting hit by a flying motorcycle or car, it is having to possibly watch someone die in front of us. I mean, I enjoy racing, I enjoy watching it and despite the slightly demonic inclination, I enjoy when people crash (don’t try and take the moral high ground here either, I know you like a good crash or two). But as long as they get up I can feel ok about it, I mean they know what they are getting in to. Right?

Right. But in the same token, this weekends racing made me really think about what these guys bet every time they get on that track. This wasn’t a professional race, it was probably a Dentist or Accountant on his weekend thrill seeker. And the moments before his demise would have been crystallised in startlingly clear digital pixels on my amateur camera in my amateur hands.

Despite the enjoyment I get from motorcycle racing, I don’t know if I like the risks involved, if I’m honest with you.