Rossi vs. Stoner, with Pedrosa and Lorenzo waiting in the wings. Damn I can’t wait for the season to start. Rossi will just have to make do with the bad luck of me watching. ;p

From MotoGP.com

Valentino Rossi added Laguna Seca to his list of conquered tracks on the MotoGP calendar in a breathtaking Red Bull U.S. Grand Prix, ending Casey Stoner´s run of wins and garnering an important addition to his points tally heading into the summer break.

In contrast to his comments after Saturday´s qualifying session, Rossi needed neither a gun nor a 30-second headstart to stop the man so dominant in practice. Instead he relied on a storming start and his best pace of the weekend to stifle Stoner´s breakaway attempt, presenting himself as the only object between the Australian and a fourth consecutive victory.

A speedy start, some shaky moments and two top caliber riders separated from the rest of the field made for a thrilling race, and the end result of a 33rd victory for Rossi for the factory Yamaha team –equaling his total for previous manufacturer Honda.

The deciding moment of the race came on lap 24, as Stoner and Rossi prepared to enter the home straight. Having battled back-and-forth amongst themselves at every corner, Stoner ran wide onto the gravel. An attempt to dig his left foot in order to push himself back on-track led to a fall for the 22 year-old, although he nonetheless picked the Ducati Desmosedici GP8 back up with a cushion on the timesheet significant enough to allow him to finish second and move up in the overall classification.

“Tell me,” a friend mused. “Why do women like bikers?”

And I’m left scratching my head, wondering just what in the world he’s talking about. I have been riding for a good part of my life now, but it does seem that my bike is less of a chick magnet and more of a giant lodestone for traffic tickets.

Unless you’re Valentino Rossi or Sonny Barger, it is unlikely you have a queue of women stretching from here to the Sepang Circuit that are waiting to jump into the sack with you. Reality check: it is unlikely that you are a 8-time MotoGP World Champion with millions of dollars in the bank and a disarming sense of humour. (Somehow, I figure Rossi has better things to do than read this frivolous article. Like fixing his problems with Yamaha and Bridgestone.)

It is even less likely that you are the awe-inspiring leader of an outlaw motorcycle club. If you had to ask, Sonny Barger is de facto President of the Hells Angels Motorcycle Club – yes, the Hells Angels – and one of the most feared and respected characters on two wheels. Needless to say, there are more than a few women fighting (sometimes literally, I reckon) to sleep with this legend.

Unfortunately, it seems the rest of us mere mortals are considerably less desirable in Venus’s eyes.

There is a theory regarding the attraction of bikers that is so male chauvinistic that to publish it is to incur the wrath of any self-respecting woman. But to provide a comprehensive perspective on the subject, I will risk having my eyes gorged out by painted fingernails to broach the topic.

The Theory of Materialism offers to explain why bikers seem to be more popular with younger girls, but suffer from waning attraction in later stages of life. The significantly lower financial costs of owning a motorcycle, compared with a car, allows any 18-year-old in Singapore to possess your own vehicle, even before you’re permitted to vote or watch certain ‘artistic’ movies. And anyone who has had the privilege of taking public transport knows that it is far from an award winning experience at times.

Armed with his new two-wheeler, the young biker eagerly races to impress his female friends. And what an impression a spanking new crotch rocket makes, not least because of the startling jingle of the small 2-stroked engine and modified pipe! Aside from the distinction of sounding like a gas-powered grass-cutter on steroids, the bike represents real freedom from exorbitant midnight taxi fares, stray groping hands onboard crowded train carriages, and the incessant clatter of TV mobile.

But, alas, all good things come to an end, and the appeal of the biker comes crashing down shortly after.
Somewhere between tertiary education and the start of her career, the increased spending power of potential suitors offers women another alternative to the hassle of public transport, and one which they can enjoy in air-conditioned comfort: private cars. Bikes – and bikers – are then seen as a poor substitute, and unceremoniously dumped from the premier league, not unlike Derby County.

An acquaintance noted that a group of guys were “eligible”, solely based on the fact that they drove cars. Another proudly boasts the perceived prowess of her boyfriend’s WRX. I regard both as sad by-products (read: waste material) of our capitalistic world, where the car is a highly desirable symbol of wealth, and the motorcycle a representation of poverty. Never mind that I count at least 10 motorcycles in the market that cost more than the average saloon car. Or that we have enough sense not to straddle a machine that sounds strangely like a common name for a dog. (Rex, geddit?)

Of course, a theory that depicts all women as selfish moneygrubbers must be taken with a hearty serving of salt. That there are a healthy percentage of bikers (myself not included, unfortunately) that do continue to enjoy the amorous attention of the ladies must mean there is little, if any, truth in the hypothesis. And it must also mean that there’s something I’m not doing right. But I digress.

The answer to the initial question lies, I think, not in the physical, demographic descriptions of motorcycle riders, but to their vastly intangible set of attitudes, values and beliefs. More than a means of transport, the motorcycle is a lifestyle; far from the pauper, the biker is the master of his own destiny.

Throughout history, the biker has stood as an icon of rebellion, freedom, and power. With its amazing versatility in manoeuvring across challenging terrain, its light weight which allowed it to be parachuted into strategic positions, as well as its unparalleled swiftness, the motorcycle proved to be the perfect military vehicle during World War II. But its popularity continued even after the war, especially among war veterans and outlaw motorcycle groups in America who found the adrenaline, camaraderie and inherent danger of motorbikes hard to resist.

Across the Atlantic, the growth of the Vespa in Europe as a practical and economical means of commute was met with waves of widespread popularity. But more than a transport tool, the allure of the scooter was in what it truly represented: individualism and independence, regardless of social class or gender.

By the time motorcycles started rolling off factory floors in the Land of the Rising Sun in the 1960’s, the motorbike had already taken its place as a high-powered toy for the carefree, and a machine for recreational sport and leisure.

As a throwback to my earlier assertion, bikers as a group are impossible to define demographically. After all, only a fool would try and claim that all bikers are poor, uneducated, and male. Not only would he be way off the mark, he would also be likely to get his teeth kicked in. Yet, it is evident that the stereotypes persist. On the other hand, not all stereotypes are necessarily damaging, especially with regard to the romantic magnetism of the biker.

Ironically, the biker is helped on by a persistent media bias that paints us in one broad stroke as a bunch of reckless good-for-nothings on whose shoulders the blame for increased traffic accident rates should squarely lie. How much good sense, if any, goes into these allegations, I can’t tell. But I reckon this stereotype has acted as an aphrodisiac on more on one occasion – to the delight of bikers. After all, a relationship with one who lives to the full, on the edge, and thrives on danger, is bound to be much more exciting and pleasurable than an evening with mommy’s boy who prefers the safety of a life in a cage, and likely to get to your knickers only because he bores the pants off of you.

Whether he rides a rebellious chopper, a metrosexual scooter, or a scroungy super-motard is beside the point. As the biker straps on his leathers, parks himself in the saddle of his motorcycle, and fires up the engine, the metal beast roars to life. In that instant, the biker becomes a modern-day gladiator – defying death, embracing freedom, and defending individualism. It is no coincidence that motorcycle manufacturers speak directly to bikers in this language. While Honda attests to “The Power of Dreams”, Triumph encourages you to “Go Your Own Way”. The biker is a passionate freedom fighter, constrained only by his own mind – and the occasional painful reminder of physics. What’s there not to love?

If there is any doubt left as to the legendary allure of the biker, one need only to a time long, long ago, in a land far, far away. In case you’ve forgotten your fairytales: Without fail, Prince Charming rides to the rescue of the damsel in distress on his glorious steed, and sweeps the fair maiden off her feet. Horse-drawn carriages are for the sick, the witches, or the evil step-mothers. Go figure. In this light, it is no wonder then that the contemporary Prince Charming on his iron horse is an irresistible character in an enchanting tale of romance.

Why do women love bikers? It doesn’t matter. The real question in this new era is: why do we find female bikers so darn irresistible? But that’s another story for another time.

Disclaimer: Stanislaus Jude Chan assures you that the only models he is ever dreams of stripping down naked, getting dirty with, and riding late into the night are the Aprilia RS250, and the Ducati 749.

The opinions expressed in this article are his own; he absolves the editors from all liability and threats of decapitation arising from this commentary.

And that was my first thought when I saw Mr Traffic Policeman harassing some poor guy with an old beat-up car at the road shoulder on my way to work this morning on the Central Expressway (CTE).

“I’d better go get my road tax renewed tomorrow,” I said to myself, almost out loud, as I slowed to keep within the speed limit on the 90km/h highway.

What if I renew my vehicle road tax late?

“Please renew the licence before it expire as it is an offence for anyone to keep or use a vehicle without a valid licence in force for the vehicle.

A late penalty fee will be imposed if you do not renew your license by expiry date. Your vehicle may also be impounded and there will be towing and storage fees will then be payable in addition to the arrears of road tax and penalty fees.”

(source: onemotoring.com.sg)

Morning traffic was not as bad today, and it was enjoyable to just cruise without worrying about another black Camry (or was it a Cefiro?) cutting into my lane and causing me to crash. One thing about cars, they all look the same. Haha.

Do you think about a lot of things when you ride, or drive? I’m not sure if it’s against the law in Singapore – apparently everything is – but I like to think when I ride and have all these nice little thoughts and ideas swirl around in my mind. The wind rushing up to greet you and the asphalt disappearing behind you creates a certain magic, very conducive to creative thoughts. At least a dozen great ideas have been born in the saddle of this wild horse.

Then, suddenly, I saw a flash of light on my left mirror. A glance informed me that Mr. TP was signalling me to pull over.

Damn.

It’s a nice morning, do we have to do this? I turned to look at him, and stared straight into soul-less eyes framed with standard-issue dark glasses. Double damn. Sorry dude, you’re not getting me today.

My stare turned into a nod and a half-grin. I snatched at the clutch lever and snapped down two gears. The front-end of the 250 lifted an inch, the engine roared in wild delight, and the bike exploded off the block. I was sprinting like Ben Johnson on drugs, all the way to Olympic infamy. Behind the shades, I caught a glimpse of Mr. TP’s eyes widen in shock. He wasn’t expecting this, for sure.

By the time he blipped his throttle, I was off like a bat out of hell.

But a largely stock, 250cc 2-stroker does not measure up well against a 750cc, souped-up police motorcycle. Especially not in a country with an expressway that is as straight and unbending as its society. Even as my speedometer needle happily climbed past 230km/h, the White Mothership From Hell was fast gaining on me!

“I have to get out of this,” I thought. “Get into some twisties, I’ll surely lose him there.”

One thing about the Aprilia, it’s not as powerful on the straights. No wait, it is damn bloody knn powerful.

Powerful enough to rip one of those pseudo-racer Subarus to shreds, at least. But just not as powerful when you compare to the rest of the superbikes rolling out of Japanese factories like chocolate from Willy Wonka’s.

But on the bends, there’s nothing quite like an Aprilia. A group of not-too-sane Aprilia riders have taken to saying you could pick a coin off the floor as you bank around a tight corner, no problem. I say i could ride with one hand, dig my nose with the other, and place a nice large piece of booger at the apex of each corner at the famous 99 bends – with my eyes closed.

Yes, I’m exaggerating. But you get my drift: the Aprilia is unbeatable at the corners.

According to the most recent official statistics, there are 1,121 Aprilias in Singapore, as of December 2004.

That accounts for a mere 0.8% of the total bike population here, which comes up to about 137,029 motor-heads on 2 wheels.

One thousand, one hundred, and twenty-one (go buy 4D if you want). And Mr. TP picked the wrong one to flag down.

The CTE turned out to be a short sprint. Hell, at that speed, I could get to KL in two hours, no? By the time I hit the final right-side curve before the Ayer Rajah Expressway (AYE), Mr. TP was almost beside me. Above the roar of our engines, the blare of his sirens filled my helmet, swimming around my head like a poisonous gas, intoxicating and choking me with its skeletal fingers.

Blinded, I hit the brakes hard and dived low, throwing my bike into the Bukit Merah exit.

A part of me hoped that manoeuvre would throw Mr. TP off my tail. It was a very naive part of me, I must add. With special training in riding techniques and a career on 2 wheels, Mr. TP was – like all things Singaporean – very efficient. He replicated my actions without batting an eyelid.

For a split-second, it almost felt like The Rise of the Machines, except this terminator breathing down my neck was more real – and some argue, more ghastly!

But at least I’ve got the tighter corners and smaller roads to my advantage now. And now the gloves were really off: cars in the way didn’t matter, pedestrians promptly dove for cover into the bushes (they deserve it lah, bloody always jay-walking), and traffic signal lights went unheeded.

Yes, I ran some 4 red lights, I think. But in my mind, aiyah, after this go make police report that my bike was stolen, kick up a big fuss, and complain that some young punk ran off with and wrecked my bike. Not I riding what, you can’t arrest me!

Hmmm… Maybe I can even write letter to my Member of Parliament (MP). For what I don’t know, but everyone seems to write to their MP to complain about this and that, so just write lah. And somemore I live in Marine Parade GRC, under a super-duper powerful, very senior minister. Eh, but MP got so much time reply to so many letters meh? Even Santa Claus has his elves to reply his mail! Hmmm… Oh ya ok, we have mythical creatures too, I guess. Wouldn’t call them elves though. Haha.

Goodness, where have I learnt to digress so much? Let’s cut back to the chase! (pun intended, of course)

Bukit Merah felt like a scene out of Grand Theft Auto. By this time, another TP motorcycle and a patrol car had joined the pursuit. “Bloody hell, I’m going to be late for work again lah,” I cursed, now more upset than ever. “And you think petrol cheap ah?”

Determined to shake off my “escorts”, I hastily drummed up a plan. Taking a sharp left turn very late, I guided my missile into Depot Road. It’s no joke, taking on a 50 km/h road at three times the limit, but I had spent my childhood cycling around the estate at Depot Road, and I knew the place like the wrinkles on my forehead – there are but a few to speak of, but I look at them every day and know them very well.

The little lanes, which by now were filled with cars and people rushing to work, slowed the men in white down a little. Ah, the advantages of a small bike! By the time I hit the end of Depot Road, I was some 30 metres ahead of my pursuers. And just about ready to launch my plan into action. But the timing had to be immaculate.

I said a silent prayer.

At the T-junction to the main road (Alexander Road, I believe. I wasn’t stopping to read road signs, that’s for sure) the traffic light was not in my favour.

Damn.

Prayers do get answered. I ran the light (what do you mean “again”? One more won’t make a difference) and spun unto the main road, hit the brakes, banked hard left, and throttled off again. A black Camry – oh sweet irony – swerved wildly to avoid hitting me, and was promptly rear-ended by a taxi.

The “bang, bang, bang” of a 6-car pile-up in the middle of the yellow box junction never sounded sweeter.

Not daring to look back for more than a half-second, I made one last sharp turn, this time into the old beer garden beside SAJC. Easing off the throttle as the sound of the sirens bated, I brought the now wheezing rs250 to a stop on one of the smaller dirt tracks.

Waving a sad farewell, I walked back to the main road and flagged down a taxi. The driver must have been amused and awfully confused to pick up a passenger with a helmet but no bike, screaming into the phone about a stolen motorcycle, and demanding something be done immediately, or the MP will be notified.

Oh, what a day. Had to dump my bike, waste $10 on a taxi (the bloody jam!), late for work again, and put on a Oscar-winning performance to the police.

Hope they find my bike soon and return it to me.

I still have to renew my road tax tomorrow!
*** THE END ***

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Well, not quite.

The Prologue

My road tax for my Aprilia rs250 expired 3 days ago.

And that was my first thought when I saw Mr. TP was harassing some poor guy with an old beat-up car at the road shoulder on my way to work this morning on the Central Expressway (CTE).

“I’d better go get my road tax renewed tomorrow,” I said to myself, almost out loud, as I slowed to keep within the speed limit on the 90km/h highway.

And before I knew what was going on, Mr. TP pulls up next to me, signalling for me to stop at the road shoulder.

And I do, cursing, but only under my breath.

No chain guard, no mud guard, number plate obscured. Damn.

“Please lah, give chance lah ok?” I plead, still half-asleep.

He books me for the chain guard, which is a breach of safety. Then comes my Oscar performance.

“Road tax?” he asks.

“Huh? What road tax?” I walk to my bike, walk around it, then walk back to his bike which is parked behind mine. “Oh, you want me pass you the whole road tax disk, or just want the number?”

He gives me a blur look.

“There is a number on the road tax I’m supposed to get, is it?” I continue.

“Nevermind,” he shakes his head, thinking what an idiot this rider is, don’t even know what road tax, chain guard and mud guard are.

I now wait for a letter for my chain guard offence.

But at least my bike was not impounded.

I still have to renew my road tax tomorrow!

*** the end, for real***

Throwing a couple of magnets into the fuel tank is rumoured to yield considerable improvements on fuel consumption. Unfortunately, the Myth Busters are likely to have a field day with this one.

Short of stealing petrol from unsuspecting victims (hell beckons, brother), or worse, giving up riding altogether, here are 10 tried and tested methods to lighten the strain on your pocket.

Here we go…!

1. Slow down off the blocks

Take a long hard look in the mirror. That’s right, wise guy, you’re no Valentino, Dani, Casey or Jorge. Now, stop acting like a MotoGP racer!

I’ve noticed more than a few fellow bikers with Parkinson’s Disease that seems to affect only the right side of their bodies. Experts are studying whether these seizures are triggered by normal frequency red light. How else do you explain the violent muscle spasms that compel their right hands to work the throttle incessantly – when they are standing still at the traffic lights?

Seriously though, acting like a bat out of hell from every stop line is more likely to win you a couple of traffic tickets than the chance to stand on the podium and shower champagne on grid girls. And don’t even think about licking it off them after, you perve!

Gradual acceleration is not only safer, it consumes less petrol and saves you a whole lot of money.

2. Ease off the throttle / Free-wheeling

Think of the throttle as a faucet: every time you turn on the tap, some of that precious petrol is pumped out. Of course, the engine needs fuel to burn before it operates. Yes, that’s why they call it a motor-cycle. But sometimes, we crack open the throttle more than we need – or even when we don’t need to.

Cruising, the engine functions at the optimum energy spent vs work done efficiency. Each time you accelerate, you force the engine to do more work, hence increasing the need for more fuel to perform the task. For best fuel efficiency, accelerate gradually to a comfotably cruising speed, for example 90km/h on the expressway, then try your best to maintain that RPM until you need to decelerate on exiting the highway. With limited acceleration-deceleration, the engine does less work, which translates into lower petrol spendings!

Remember: the motorcycle engine works like the human body. Think back on the dreaded annual school cross-country runs we were forced to do. Jogging at a constant pace throughout could be tortuous, but much less tiring than the guys who chose a walk-sprint-walk-sprint strategy. The human body – and the motorbike engine – were just not made to function that way!

And when you get to the downslopes, it was less tiring to just open your stride and let gravity do the work for you. Likewise, pulling in the clutch and shutting the throttle for long downhill sections make more sense. Why use the engine when gravity is in abundance?

While maintaining cruising speed and free-wheeling down slopes might seem insignificant and penny-pinching strategies at best, our test results yielded remarkable dividends. The same 14.5-litre tank of petrol actually covered 10% more distance with this method alone. Every little bit counts!

3. Tune down for better mileage!

What did you expect? The equation is simple: the more power your crotch rocket packs, the more gas it guzzles. And while we’ve worked relentlessly to jack up the bhp on our machines, the time has come to go the reverse direction.

Unless you’re riding a race-dedicated machine (or you’ve got money to burn), contemporary machines have more than enough torque to pull away from traffic in normal street riding. The truth is, you don’t even need that much power on city streets!

So, unless you’re planning plenty of trips to the Pasir Gudang, Sepang and Tuas circuits, hop on down to your mechanic and request he tunes down your engine for less power and better fuel economy. even dropping your idling rpm a couple of notches can go a long way in saving money.

If you’ve got money to burn, forget about the whole series altogether. And donate generously to ThrottleZine instead.

4. Stock Up for Major Savings

Forget Leo Vince, Yoshimura, Arrow and K&N. Unless your 2-wheeler rolled out of the factory with these specs, of course. Returning your bike to “stock”, or original factory conditions, is one of the most obvious fuel-saving methods, albeit one of the most painful measures for the biker.

That after-market exhaust, air-filter and carburettor can boost bhp remarkably. But in this time of belt-tightening, it’s best to hang those pipes on the wall above your bed until further notice. Sorry folks, if you want to save money, you just have to sacrifice on a bit of performance.

Damn.

5. Get correct tyre pressure

If you think your tyres have nothing to do with it, I’ve got news for you: hey dummy, this is a double whammy! Choosing the right tyres — and tyre pressure — is one of the most important things for a motorcyclist. Just ask Rossi!

Not only does riding with the right tyre pressure give you better mileage, it lessens tyre wear – which means even more money is saved because you have to change your rubbers less often. Make it a habit to check your tyre pressure each time you stop for fuel. If you’re not sure how many PSI is ideal (which depends on your weight, the size and type of tyres you’ve fitted, etc) a quick call to your mechanic should do the trick.

It’s safer, makes riding more of a joy, and saves you money. What more reasons do you need?

6. Perfect gear change

Now, this is a bit trickier and takes some practice. But ensuring you’re riding on the right gear at all times – ok, at least most times – can be a most rewarding experience. We know it’s challenging, especially with the start-stop of city riding and on a top-end sportsbike, but just try it. You won’t be disappointed with the results!

Not only does it save a bucketful of petrol, finding the right gear every time makes it a joy to be on that 2-wheeler.

7. Plan Your Routes

Here’s a no-brainer: the less distance you cover, the less petrol you use! And yet, it’s amazing how little we think of planning travel routes to save on distance.

In Singapore’s context, planning routes are a little more complicated though. On top of mapping out the shortest available routes (absolute distance), other factors to keep in mind include time and money.

Often, the shortest route isn’t the quickest. For instance, the Lornie-Adam Road route might seem deliciously short, but experience (read: regularly being stuck in 2-hour long jams there) will tell you to avoid it like the plague.

And keep an eye out for every Singaporean’s worst nightmare: the ERP! Download the latest ERP charge schedules (it changes regularly and no one really knows the latest score), and plan your journey around this. Knowing where and how much about these money-suckers can make a big difference in your bank accoint balance!

8. Lose Weight

Say what? Yes, pudgy, hit the gym and lose some of those spare tyres! You might think it doesn’t make a difference, but the TRIFS* study shows that for a 80kg driver, a 10 kilogram weight loss improves mileage in bikes by 5% and 2% in cars.

Got spare baggage on your vehicle? Clear out your boot! Keeping the books, spare parts and the kitchen sink at home give you a better driving experience, and saves you money on gas too!

Oh, by the way. *TRIFS – the ThrottleZine Research Institute of Fake Statistics

9. Ride the Wave

Quick, what’s the best bike in the world? Move aside Yamaha R1, Suzuki Hayabusa, and even Ducati’s mouth-watering 1098. According to this video, the top bike of all time is – gasp – the humble Honda Cub! And we’re not talking about just great mileage.

After a series of gruelling tests (read: bike-wrecking madness), Top Gear concluded that this little Japanese is the king of two-wheelers. We concur!

Sure, the McBeal-skinny tyres do little for on-road confidence, but riding a Honda Wave can fetch an incredible 50 km per litre of gas. There’s simply no beating that!

Others have tried – and suceeded – in replicating the Cub’s phenomenal mileage performance, including the 180cc Bajaj Pulsar from India. But with supreme reliability and availability of parts, the incumbent Cub stands tall despite its small stature.

Want to half your petrol expenditure each month? Ride the Wave!

10. Crossing borders for great savings

First they banned foreign vehicles from filling up at their pumps, then they made an amazing u-turn, reversed the ruling, and instead slapped a 40+ % price increase on their petrol. Malaysia might be better known for sex scandals involving ministers and daylight robberies, but when it comes to saving on petrol, the peninsular gets the heads up.

Smokers get a bonus, with cigarettes costing across the causeway less than half of our ridiculously high prices. (Hey, why do we have to pay taxes for wanting to kill ourselves anyway?)

A word of warning though: the traffic jams at the Woodlands-JB causeway are a pain – sometimes literally, considering you have to endure streams of carbon monoxide and hordes of Malaysian Cubs squeezing into you every half-chance they get – even in the wee hours of the morning. And it doesn’t help that immigration and customs on the Singapore side leave you wondering whether the causeway really is part of our very ‘efficient country’.

Our advice? Pay a little extra for the toll charges (which come up to less than $3 anyway), travel a little farther, and enter via the 2nd link at Tuas. For all the inconvenience, and even with the petrol hike, Malaysia is truly worth it!

That’s all for our money-saving tips. Send us your comments, or your own tips!

The first-ever floodlit night race venue in Formula One history was commended both for the revolutionary track lighting and the spectacular way in which it wove the track through the heart of the city. Other shortlisted candidates for the 2008 Motor Sport Facility of the Year included the European Grand Prix venue at Valencia in Spain, the new Toyota Racing Development chassis engineering building in Cologne and a new start-of-the-art motor racing facility at Sturup, near Malmo in Sweden.

“We are delighted that the efforts of the entire team and the invaluable contribution from all our fantastic partners have been recognised by this award” said Jonathan Hallett, Director of Media and Communications for Singapore GP Pte Ltd. “We have received a great many compliments from around the world since the running of the race in September, but this is an award given by our peers, the professionals who work in motor sport. It therefore is especially gratifying to receive this award.”

However, it is unlikely that critics will be rushing to congratulate Singapore on its win.

“When we race on tracks which should be used for the circus, anything can happen including the spectacle of the safety car,” Ferrari president Luca di Montezemolo had said immediately after the race in Singapore, which saw the safety car taking centrestage on more than a few occasions. “All this is humiliating for F1 and it is an aspect I want to talk about with the other teams.”

The Professional Motor Sport World Awards, which are in their third year of recognising international motor sports endeavours, were selected by a distinguished judging panel from all areas of the sport. Other awards given out at the gala Award show in Cologne included Safety Innovation of the Year (awarded to the FIA Foundation for their work in improving safety in the World Rally Championship), Testing Technology of the Year, Vehicle Development of the Year, Design Engineer of the Year and Team Principal of the Year (awarded to Franz Tost of Scuderia Toro Rosso).

The inaugural 2008 FORMULA 1 SingTel Singapore Grand Prix took place on 28 September 2008 on a street circuit of public roads around the Marina Bay area. The race was the first Formula One to be held at night, and the first Formula One street race in Asia.

Over 100,000 spectators, a sell-out, capacity crowd, watched the Singapore Grand Prix trackside. Over 30 million TV viewers in the five main European markets of France, Germany, Italy, Spain and the UK, are estimated to have watched the live coverage of the race.

Anyone with a chest under 28 inches will be banned from driving a motorbike – which make up 90 per cent of the traffic on the country’s chaotic roads. Anyone who is too short, too thin or too sickly will also have to seek alternative transport. Ailments such as enlarged livers or sinusitis will rule out aspirant motorists.

“The new proposals are very funny, but many Vietnamese people could become the victim of this joke,” said Le Quang Minh, 31, a Hanoi stockbroker. “Many Vietnamese women have small chests. I have many friends who won’t meet these criteria.”

The average Vietnamese man is 5 feet, 4 inches (164 centimeters) tall and weighs 121 pounds (55 kilograms). The average Vietnamese woman is 5 feet, 1 inch (155 centimeters) tall and weighs 103 pounds (47 kilograms).

Vietnamese bloggers have been poking fun at the plan, envisioning traffic police with tape measures eagerly pulling over female drivers to measure their chests.

“From now on, padded bras will be best-sellers,” said Bo Cu Hung, a popular Ho Chi Minh City blogger.

“I’m not heavy enough, what am I going to do?” Le Thu Huong asked in a letter to Tuoi Tre newspaper. “And what about people whose chests are small? Most of them are too poor to afford breast implants!”

Vietnamese roads are among the most dangerous in the world but it is not clear why the ruling Communist Party believes banning small drivers will make them safer.

(Adapted from Daily Telegraph)

But at the end, it were the antics of two championship outsiders – Robert Kubica and Timo Glock – that left millions of television viewers with a jaw-dropping finale.

With Brazilian Massa proving invincible at his hometown circuit and leading for a large part of the race, Hamilton needed to finish at least fifth to capture the world drivers’ title, a single point ahead of the Ferrari racer. As rain beat down on the still-damp track with just eight remaining, Massa’s Ferrari team pulled off a flawless tyre change pit-stop, emerging from the lanes ahead of second-placed Fernando Alonso.

But with Hamilton securely in fifth place behind Massa, Alonso, Raikkonen and Glock, Massa needed a miracle to overtake the young Brit in the drivers’ championship table. And Kubica stepped up to the plate to answer Massa’s prayers.

A lap behind the race leaders and with no chance of winning the race, BMW Sauber’s Kubica had to move out of the way to allow the drivers ahead of him to overtake, according to F1 rules. But he inexplicably bundled into the way of Hamilton’s McLaren, forcing Hamilton wide, and allowing Sebastian Vettel’s Ferrari-powered Toro Rosso to pass into fifth place.

Two laps to go: Massa in the lead, Hamilton pushed to sixth. Things were looking up for a Ferrairi triple celebration – Sao Paulo winner, Constructors’ Champion, and Drivers’ Champion!

And the Hamilton team and family could only watch in shock as Lewis haplessly tried to catch Vettel in the final few kilometres of the race, in treacherous rain, robbed by outsider Kubica.

Then Timo Glock sprung a surprise of his own.

Hanging in fourth position behind Massa, Alonso and Raikkonen, Glock unbelievably almost seemed like he slammed on the brakes to stop just before the finish line, allowing Vettel and Hamilton to cross the finish line ahead of him.

As Massa took the chequed flag, Hamilton had the drivers’ title handed to him on a plate by a ’stranger’, Glock.

One could not help but feel Massa’s pain, losing the championship by a mere point, after having won six races this season (more than Hamilton), and battling back from nightmare races in Silverstone, when he spun out repeatedly on the wet tarmac, and Singapore, when he suffered an embarrassing gaffe, driving off in the pit-stop with his fuel line still attached. But it was only right that Hamilton won, after having been infringed by Kubica.

As Massa and Raikkonen celebrated their 1-3 finish on the podium at Sao Paulo, and Ferrari claimed their Constructors’ title, it was Hamilton camp that had the broadest smiles all round. Thanks to Glock, 23-year-old Lewis Hamilton has entered the record books for being the youngest-ever world F1 champion.

It doesn’t matter what Ferrari says. And even though I do feel oh-so bad for Massa’s last-grasp misery, the new world champion Hamilton truly deserves to win, especially after Raikkonen nipped in at the final race to steal his crown in his debut season last year.

All hail, King Hamilton!

For those who missed it on TV last night, here it is again! The final lap of Sao Paulo F1 GP 2008!

The contrast between the REVA car and the Toyota Eco-Driving display at the IUCN World Conservation Congress cannot be more striking.

While the lonesome REVA has been tanning itself outside the congress venue, getting towed around once in a while, the Toyota pavilion boasts of an attractive high-tech simulator that has become one of the most popular exhibits at the congress so far.

The dissimilarities do not end there. The India-based REVA Electric Car Company (RECC) plays a proverbial David to the Goliath Toyota, one of the juggernauts in the world’s car manufacturing industry. While REVA’s solitary representative at the congress has proved to be exceptionally elusive, Toyota’s army of immaculately-dressed executives pull no punches in trying to win the hearts of participants.

The Toyota European Sustainability Report 2008, launched on Tuesday, is a 84-page, perfect-bound public relation masterpiece, while REVA offers a simple single-page handout with the car’s technical details – listed only in Spanish – and tucked unremarkably under the car’s windscreen wiper.

Regardless of the differences, both car-makers share a common vision – to provide an environmentally-friendly alternative to conventional petrol guzzlers.

“We are fully committed to growing our business profitably, while enhancing our social and environmental performance,” said Graham Smith, senior vice-president of external and environmental affairs, Toyota Motor Europe. “Our holistic approach is designed to create value for both Toyota, as a sustainable business, and for the communities in which we live and work,” he added.

Spurred by the impending launch of its Plug-in Hybrid Vehicles, which boasts of technological advances to enable further energy savings and more driver comfort, Toyota aims to sell more than one million hybrid cars annually by 2010. Having sold close to 1.6 million Toyota hybrid vehicles to date, the Japanese car-maker estimates it has already saved the earth from some 7 million tonnes of carbon dioxide emissions since the inception of its hybrid cars in 1996.

But the REVA takes environment conservation a step further. Running on an electric battery, the fully electric car releases absolutely no harmful gases into the atmosphere. Able to be plugged into any commonly-found 15-ampere socket, the REVA’s battery consumes just 9 units of electricity for a full charge. Unfortunately, it only allows the car to run for up to 80 km before having to stop for another charge.

“We have worked on electric cars for many years, since 1996, when we launched the electric version of the Toyota Rav4. It was a good car, and we even won a rally race for electric vehicles in Sweden. But it was not a commercial success because of issues like range and charging time. The market was not ready for this,” said Smith.

And REVA had better watch out. Toyota has plans to dip its feet back into the electric vehicle market, with a small electric car due in early 2010.

While traditional petrol vehicles still dominate the market – hybrid vehicles only make up seven per cent of Toyota’s total sales – Smith is confident the number of hybrid and electric vehicles will increase. But do not mistake the move for sentimentality.

“We don’t do anything that does not make commercial sense,” said Smith. As more hybrid vehicles are manufactured, the cost of production is lowered through the economies of scale. On the other hand, government regulations are making the regular cars more expensive to produce. “Because of this, there will be a point in the future that hybrid vehicles will make the most commercial sense,” he said.

Regardless of motivation, it seems, the need for hybrid vehicles and electric cars is being driven by climate change. But for now, as the ‘haves’ and the ‘have-nots’ continue to occupy the same space in the congress, it is becoming apparent that the disadvantaged Davids will have to make the effort to be heard over the high-decibel Goliaths.

(TerraViva)