West Coast Mini Sidecars.

Monkey Business

(Or How Not to be a "Drag")

Being the one who does all the “monkeying around” I was asked to say a few words from the sidecar monkey’s perspective. The first time I heard this term I wasn’t thrilled with being compared to Cheeta, but it really is pretty descriptive and I have wished I had a prehensile tail a few times. The monkey is the part of the team in the passenger position that through the manipulation of balance and weight distribution keeps the sidecar on the track and making the turns. The monkey literally either hangs off the side or climbs on the back of the driver and is in constant motion, hence the name. It’s possible the screaming of the beginner may have contributed too. Even so, if you have cognitive thinking and opposable thumbs you too can be a monkey!

The first order of business is safety. As fun as being a monkey is, and as goofy and cute  as the mini sidecars look,  it is a race hack, and racing is dangerous - so wear full protective gear: padded leather suit, helmet, gloves and boots at the minimum. Dan even wears extra spine protection when we race. For one thing, if I fall off I just roll, but he flips over the bike.

Second, know your driver – your safety is in his hands. Does he view you as a disposable piece of monkey meat? Do they understand this is a team with two fully equal partners and that there can be violent, bloody, physical consequences for him if this isn’t respected – once you get out of the hospital?

Third, the monkey is not just a passenger. Sure the driver operates the controls but the monkey steers, and lack of coordination between the two is like trying to steer a car with just the gas pedal. It can be done – badly. When we first started we practiced in an empty parking lot with no specific track outline. I couldn’t anticipate when Dan was going to turn resulting in me always being seconds behind him in my reactions – and sometimes feet behind him if he zigged when I zagged. Once we marked out a path with cones we were better able to coordinate, but only on an actual track do we truly operate in unison. I see the correct line just as he does and I can anticipate just like he does so that I’m proactive in the turns. By leaning to counter balance the Gs, when the driver sets the car into a drift on the turns my weight pulls us around in the right direction. If the monkey “re-acts” instead of acts, the turn is too late, making it less stable. Catching air is a thrill, but not the kind you want if it involves a hay bale!

How does one accomplish all of this leaning at 25 mph on a 3’ square platform shared with a 210 lb partner 2” above the ground? Magnets? Glue? Sorcery? No! Positioning (and the fact that our two bulbous bodies in their leathers are wedged in tighter than ticks)! Everyone has their own style, but I sort of crouch with my right foot under Dan’s left ankle, and kneeling on my left knee so that we are both facing forward. My right arm is around his back and my left hand is holding onto a bar on the left side near the exhaust pipe. Honest, I’m not a contortionist, but we do get very cozy. Besides, feeling his body language is another form of communication.

In any case, these are my suggestions. In the end what works best for you is the right way. I can’t give away ALL my secrets because I’m hoping we’ll meet on the track some day!          Many Happy Laps!     

XOXOXO

Suzanne