ROCKET MEN!
As I started the first part of the story of ‘Rocket’ Ron Haslam with an anecdote, it’s worth starting this – part two – with another one.
It’s 1996 and Ron and Ann Haslam have just started their Honda Ron Haslam Race School at Donington Park, a school that would teach almost 90,000 eager students over its 24-year run. And one of the first was me.
I’d ridden a lot on the road and – being a reporter for a particular weekly motorcycling newspaper – I’d been asked along to write something about this new school. My pleasure – what a job! I was bobbing around on a Honda CBR600F, up ahead my instructor Adrian Clarke was keeping a beady eye on me in his mirrors.
As I exit McLean’s suddenly, out of nowhere is this ‘DOFF, DOFF, DOFF, DOFF’ sound, approaching me from behind. I’ve been told not to worry about faster people coming past: don’t look behind – concentrate on what’s happening ahead. Sadly I’m new to this and I leave a gap going into Coppice. ‘DOFF, DOFF, DOFF’… up the inside of me comes a bike. I can’t help but glance across to my right. I’m looking at a bike, Honda’s humble CB500 twin, which a year later would have a race series of its own. Thing is, there doesn’t seem to be a rider on it – just a FrankThomas boot and a bit of a leg.
As we straighten up for Starkey’s Straight I accelerate past this ‘ghost bike’ and realise it’s little Leon Haslam: Leon Haslam who has stuffed me up the inside at Coppice. Of course Leon out-brakes me into The Esses and I don’t see him again.
At the end of that session we go back to the outer paddock to refuel and I follow Leon – who has to park right next to the kerb on which the pump is located, as he can’t get his feet on the floor. Still smarting from being beaten by a mere kid, I raise my visor
