My Road on Two Wheels, Part 3: They Collided, the Penalty Came Down — The Summer the Women's Championship Stopped Being a Showcase

Last time I wrote about the marketing phrase ‘light.’ This time it's the exact opposite: collision. From July 10 to 12, round 5 of the FIM Women's Circuit Racing World Championship, WorldWCR, was held at Donington Park in England. Line up just the results and Saturday's Race 1 went to Maria Herrera, Sunday's Race 2 to Beatriz Neila. But what got talked about all weekend wasn't the standings — it was the contact and the penalties.

Let me walk through what happened. In Race 1, on lap one under braking into Turn 6, the leading Herrera ran wide and made handlebar-to-handlebar contact with Neila, who was launched into the gravel and out of the race. Herrera was handed a double long-lap penalty, but even after serving it across laps six and seven, she still won by 3.7 seconds. Paola Ramos finished second, Thailand's Mookdapa Salapuek third. The next day's Race 2 saw Herrera make contact with Ramos on the final lap, this time pushing Ramos onto the grass. The FIM stewards ruled it ‘irresponsible riding,’ added a six-second penalty, and dropped Herrera to second. The win passed instead to Neila, who'd been fighting forward from tenth on the grid. Ramos, the rider pushed off, had set the lap record of 1:38.908 on that very same lap. (The facts above come from World Superbike's official announcements.)

After the race, all three of them spoke plainly. Neila: ‘It wouldn't be fair for Maria to take the title with that kind of attitude — it was dangerous riding.’ Herrera: ‘That's part of racing. She was behind me and I couldn't see her; it should be called a racing incident.’ Ramos: ‘Not the ending I wanted, but that's how it goes in racing sometimes.’ Reading their words, I'll admit I felt something close to relief.

Here's my opinion. This championship only began in 2024 — it's just in its third season. The first champion was Ana Carrasco, last year's was Herrera. Everyone rides the same Yamaha YZF-R7 in a one-make format; this year's entry list runs 24 riders from 12 countries across just six rounds. When it launched, the one thing everyone talked about was simply that ‘a stage for women now exists.’ Riding the stage exactly as it was set up for you — that's not a bad thing, of course, but there was always something of the showcase about it too. What Donington's two days were about wasn't the existence of the stage, but who was going to claim it. Handing out a penalty means treating a contest as worth adjudicating in the first place.

Let me also mention something that made me happy. Standing on the third step of the Race 1 podium was Thailand's Mookdapa Salapuek. This year's entry is 24 riders from 12 countries — the Spanish contingent is certainly strong, but an Asian rider on the podium is entirely unremarkable here. Since everyone rides the identical Yamaha YZF-R7 in a one-make series, whatever gap showed up there wasn't money or nationality — it was raw riding difference. Equalize the conditions, and that's how clearly it shows. Whether this format is the ultimate right answer is debatable, but as a design for getting something started, I think it's well made.

Still, one thing did catch on me. Neila, right after winning Race 2, said, ‘After Race 1, there were a lot of comments directed at me on social media.’ The rider who got hit and went down was somehow the one asked to explain herself, forced to weigh her words. This kind of thing happens in men's racing too, but when it happens in a world with so few competitors total, the weight one person carries is entirely different. In a championship with only 24 riders, a single pile-on can burn through someone's whole season. This is somewhere those of us watching can afford to be a little more careful. Nobody enjoys racing while being watched as one-in-twenty-four.

Standings: Herrera on 226, Neila on 182. A 44-point gap, with only the season finale at Jerez, October 16-18, and its maximum 50 points left. Which is to say: nothing is decided yet. Thinking back, ‘not suited to fierce competition’ used to be a common reason trotted out for why women ‘weren't cut out for motorcycles.’ I think Donington's two days quietly demolished that premise. A motorcycle belongs to anyone who wants to ride it, and so does racing. Anyone serious gets angry, collides, talks back. I'd like October's Jerez to be watched as exactly that kind of championship.