OK, here's the long version.
2003 Alpine Rally.
The Event: As most forumers will know, the Alpine rally was run by Victoria's Historic Rally Association, being limited to pre 1999, 2WD non-turbo cars. A-B timing, long stages, and route charted (thank christ!). $450 entry fee, for 400kms competitive.The event was broken up into day and night sections - 130kms over 8 (?) stages during the daylight, then a 70km, a 68km and a 128km stage during the night. Sadly, the 70km and two of the daylight stages were canned due to a lack of officials, and 6km was cut from the first stage due to a local farmer changing his mind on the morning of the event.
The car: Seeing as the "new" brown RX-5 wasn't ready, and the old yellow one was still fully prepared for NatCap, we took it instead. The car had a few changes since its rushed finish for Tranbell, so there were a few unknowns in the equation, but it was expected to be fine.
The Crew: Spac and Daveee in our last appearance together (Daveee is driving the RX-3 next year). Service crew was Mark, Gemma and Paulie, along with Plasto, Naomi, Tim and Em, and then Tamsey helping out after he DNF'd.
The other cars: Apart from Canberra locals Jenny and Matty T (in the RX-2 and PB210 respectively) the range of cars was interesting - Kari Dirikx in his 1600 and Brian Semmens in the works replica V6 S12 Silvia/Gazelle through to the Ruggles Colt 1100, through to old Celicas with all of the interior trim still intact, through to an unhealthy number of old Monaros and XY Falcons. The standard of cars also varied wildly - despite the supp regs' promise of particular attention being paid to appearance, some of the cars made Tom's 1600 look like a show piece.
SS1. After missing the very first turn of the trannsport due to an intermittant TerraTrip, we got ourselves sorted. We transported through the first 6kms of planned competitive which was a BIG help to me - we got to see the roads and get a feel for the road book at transport speed. This was very fortunate, as the road book was VERY sparse compared to what we're used to. RGRs and RGLs are basically never called, and cautions are almost non-existant.
So we start the stage. The roads were mostly FAST. It was pretty rutted in the tighter sections due to the sandy surface. I found it a bit difficult to drive like I wanted - where I wanted to be sliding into a corner, the ruts told me otherwise. There was certainly time lost to the higher seeded guys due to the road conditions deteriorating, but then again, we were in a better position than those behind us, so there's no point complaining. I figured we'd knuckle down and not take any risks - just drive as quickly as possible for the conditions but make sure we finished the stage.
The car was great - HEAPS better than when I last drove it. The brake pedal was odd though - the car stopped brilliantly but the braking force was movement rather than pressure dependant. Odd but it worked.
The TT stopped somewhere near the end of the stage, but it didn't cost us much time, due to the infrequent calls.
Serivce 1. Gemma, Mark and Paul did an awesome job. I don't think I even touched the car, beyond swapping valve caps (seriously). Got the TT working again after it was discovered that it was loose and had worked its way out and away from the pick-up.
SS2. Wow, and I thought SS1 was fast! This was at least as quick as Bega shire roads, but with big trees lining the sides of the roads. I was pretty happy with how I was driving - I knew we were not threat to Semmens, Batten and co, but I also knew we were runing quicker than our seeding and there was more to come - I'd be taking no risks, the car felt awesome, and I was still feeling everything out (car, roads, road book).
About 3km into the stage, we came across TWO sets of triangles just before a corner. I slowed to a speed where I could stop in the distance I could see, but the crews waved me down even more - uh oh, this must be ugly. Speed greatly diminished, I'm STILL being waved down. My mind is racing, imagining some pretty horrific things, albeit tempered by the sight of four healthy looking crews waving us down.
So I literally crawl around the curve to see two cars off - and they're blocking less than a third of a fairly wide road... F12kers! This mad me unrealistically mad. I dunno why, but it really p12sed me off, so I get right up it.
One kay later it all get ugly. I'm still p12sed of, and probably not concentrating properly on driving. There's an uncalled RGR, and I "do a Bogan" - basically I went in a bit too fast, on the wrong line and turn in too late. THUMP, we hit the bank with the nav's side front and ride up onto the bank. I put it back into first and try to drive off, but something has already told me we're in bigger trouble than that. Its true, we are in bigger trouble than that - we're stuck.
Daveee gets out and tells me the front tyre is flat. He pushes the car off the bank, and I try to steer it off the road to a small clearing on the other side of the road, but its very keen to stay in the shallow left hand gutter. It finally gets out with a disproportionate amount of steering lock and I park it off the road.
I get out and have a look. Its ugly. Very ugly. Apart from the popped tyre, the chassis rail is pushed into the firewall, the cross member is bent, as is the pin the connects the control arm to the x-member. Theres also some fairly nasty looking panel damage, and the tie rod has snapped. The brake caliper is disturbingly close to the firewall - even if we could swap the wheel and replace the tie-rod, there's about 3cm between the wheel rim and the firewall, so I've got no idea how the tyre would fit.
We resign ourselves to a DNF, and start walking back to the start of the stage.
It occours to me that people are likely to think that I was trying too hard - "Sprinting at an endurance event" and all that, but if anything, the opposite is true - I was too complacent, and I f12ked up, nothing more or less. Later, Mark pointed out the odd camber on the road at that point (the crown of the road was much closer to the inside of the corner, rather than in the middle) - he was right, but this was only a small bit player in me sticking it off.
We walk back to the crashed cars - it turns out that car #12 ran of the road and centre punched a tree on the exit of the corner. Car #14 missed the trinagles, and clipped the rear of #12 caving in its boot, before rolling twice and still landing less than a car length away. Now I understand why they were so paranoid.
I also now realise that they were slowing everyone down so much, not just us, and I realise how totally stupid I was to get so angry about it.
We keep walking back.
We notice that the Thompsons haven't passed us yet, and get a bit concerned that they've had problems. They eventually show up, having a good go - clearly 'throttle on' a lot more than the other cars that have passed us already.
Jenny is next, and she's the same - the braking is later and the acceleration is sooner and harder. I get a small wave of enthusiasm thinking that the Canberrans are going to be the 'hard chargers' in the back of the field, but then I remember that neither of them have yet made it as far through the event as even my pitiful effort...
We get back to the start control, wait for the Sweep and Recovery to turn up. They're both legends and totally cool about everything. We wait for the controllies to get packed up, do their hair, rebuild a Vauxhall gearbox, text message their entire family, etc before Paulie gets yelled at by the controllie for... well, for nothing really that I could see.
We get back to the car. Its as ugly as I'd been hoping it wasn't. We decide to try to pull it back straight and see if it still drives OK, and if it does, we'll try to re-start for division two.
Paulie, Mark and Gemma were awesome in the next hour or three. Using the Partol and a length of chain (aka Mobile Car-o-Liner), we pulled the cross-member back to being straight-ish, got the body work to clear the wheel and the car was mobile again - hell it even felt alright to drive!
The wheel alignment is awful, there's too much toe-out and there's no castor on the nav's side, but everything else (!) feels right.
We get back to service/meal break and get the car sorted as best we can. Its actually ends up pretty good - still no castor but you get that.
So we re-start the night stages. We're going to be last car on the road, as we should be. I go and talk to the guy who is driving the car that is currently last car on the road. He's cool and happy and we have a amicable chat. I tell him that I don't know how fast we'll be with a bent car, but that we just want him to know we're going to be there. He assures us that we WILL catch him, and its all good.
So was start SS9(?), the first of the 'real' Alpine stages. There's dust hanging around everywhere, but its not a problem - you can tell that its 'old' dust that's just hanging in patches and that everyone is copping the same hassles.
About 10kms in, the dust changes - its new, fresh dust, that's still swirling and is a lot more consistant and thick. I assumed someone has had a flat or something - there's no way we could be that much quicker! About 12kms in we get a good, proper visual on the car making the dust - it was the guy who started in front of us! I push through the dust, trying to get him to see us so he'll pull over, but he doesn't see us.
We drop back again, because there are sections where its just suicide to keep trying. We actually put some reasonable thought into it, and decide to catch him at the first (of four) passage controls.
As we get withing about 3km of the passage control, we speed up through the dust, but I bogger up the timing a bit and he's leaving as we arrive and he doesn't see us, despite the flashing lights.
ARRRGGGGHHH!.
We decide to try the strategy again, at the second passage control. This time I have no doubt that he's seen us, 'cause we're only 50m behind him. F!@K! He then earnt the title "Arts Clown", which I later modified to "Butt Clown" for the kiddies among us, and because the astute among us may recognise the hint to his real identity.
Third passage control is where it got interesting. We pulled in right behind him, literally only a second or two behind. I'm on the horn, and flashing my lights like crazy. It gets to the point where both cars have their PC tickets, and are both stopped. I go to leave in front of him, and he pulls out in front of me! I follow about 2m off his rear bumper up to about 120kph and he won't let us pass. His braking points are...
unusual... so I drop back a bit - I figure that if he "brake checks" me, then I'll come off a lot worse than he will... We then get lost in his dust and drop the driver's side of the car deep into a gutter at about 100kph. I'd have crapped myself, except that I was too angry.
We drop back to where the dust in managable and work out what to do. Seeing as our rally is already boggered, we decide to 'miss' the last passage control, 30 minute penalty can be damned.
4th passage control, and we pass him as he's stopped. I slow down significantly in case he wants to do something stupid again, but its not a problem.
We catch some more fresh dust soon after, but after nosing a sign post in the dust, decide to not take any more risks - which was a good choice as the road soon turned into what all of the Canberrans called "The Champanges Bit". Actually likening it to Champanges is wrong - this was a lot more severe - it was at least as steep as The Brain and went for a lot longer.
Last Service, and the car has re-bent itself. Plasto is trying to talk me into withdrawing, so I ask Mark. Mark is hardly ambiguious: "You're not pulling out now Spac. We've gotten this far, if you pull out now, I'll kill you". Sounded reasonable to me, so I don't argue. The car got another rough re-alignment and we're on our way again.
We've got 30kms to the start of the last stage, so we take the last remaining good steer tyre in the boot and change it at the start control, rather than chop it out on the tar transport.
Butt Clown blocks us from getting into the control. I yell out from the car that I'm blocked out. Daveee is obviously having words with the controllies. BC eventually is moved into control and gets out of his car. I get out too. Dave and I are called all sorts of names and accused of passing him "at full noise" through the passage control (which made me wonder what he'd have thought it we has been at full noise, and what he'd have thought if we'd been Wise or Semmens or anyone else seriously quick). The controllie is a legend, and wades through the tempers (including mine) and points out that he's got one car due in a 2:16, and another at 2:18, and that seeing as they both booked in on time he'd let the 2:16 car out first (being us).
SS10. This is it. The real test if ever there was - a whole Clubman rally in one stage. We start off well. Well, we actually start the stage about 30 seconds after our due out time due to the kerfuffle with BC, but figure it won't make much difference over the 128km distance.
Dave's got SFA to do, so he's encouraging me between calls. I don't really listen to him, except that its good to know he's still awake, and he's helping to keep me awake. We catch and pass the Commodore about 25kms in, which is encouraging.
We catch and pass a Lancer at around the 45km mark whch was also encouraging. I'm happy with the driving, and Dave's doing a great job with the calls. The pace is down compared to a normal stage, but I'm confidant that I'll be keep it up for the whole stage.
Then the dehydration hits. I know what it is, and what it will do to me from my mountain biking. I don't immediately realise how bad it is, but when I stopped just past a PC and try to take a drink and only manage to splash it on my face, I get some idea. I drink most of a bottle of Gatorade in record time (coud have drank it all, but thought it best to leave some for Dave), and I feel a lot better.
For about 10kms.
From here I deteriorate pretty badly. Im tired, exhausted and not having much fun. I keep going as hard as I dare, knowing the my vision is bad, and my reflexes awful. We're dropping time like crazy, but desperately want - nay,
need to finish.
We don't stop at the "mid-stage" (it was 105kms into a 125km stage) re-fuel, which in hindsight was a mistake. I should have gotten out of the car stretched my legs, and had something to eat and drink - it would have cost less time than I later wasted by driving appaulingly.
About 10kms from the end, a loud continuous noise starts. It sounds like a totally collapsed wheel bearing, but there's no brake knock-off to go with it, so I have no idea what it is.
The car is handling funny, without making the problem obvious.
I am desperate to finish, so we slow to a fast crawl and hope it doesn't get any worse.
We finally make it. I get out of the car and lose about fifteen kilos of body weight in urine.... I'd barely even known I'd needed to go until we stopped.
The awful noise turns out to be a broken trailing arm - its broken off the diff and the spring is pushing it into the ground. The car is sitting on the bumpstops, but obviously still drivable.
We remove the spring and cable tie the broken mount to the axle tube.
We now have a 35km transport back to the finish with a car that's sitting on the bumpstops and is crabbing badly. The sun is coming up, and the adrenalie is wearing off.
Needless to say, this was about the hardest 35kms of my life. I set myself the goal of getting to bed without seeing the sun.
We make it back intact. I have a long hot shower before going to bed, and then slump into a heap. But I barely sleep - I'm re-living the last twenty hours, I'm still annoyed at Butt Clown, and I'm thinking about what could have been and about next time.
Sunday morning, we get called up in front of the stewards as Butt Clown has made a complaint. They start with a bit of a warning along the lines of "You guys have forked up, and we're not very happy". I was more than a little concerned that there may have been a degree of "looking after mates" going on, and figured that we may be about to be caught up in a witch hunt.
We listened to what they've been told, which was a..
liberal interptertaion of what actually happen. I brightened considerably when I reaslied that we had the facts on our side and that the stewards were really going to listen to us.
We then told our version, and invited them to check it with the RC and PC officials on the second last stage. It was interesting to watch the stewards' faces brighten as they realised we were not tools of Satan.
They left us outside for all of two minutes before calling us back in and saying "Thanks for your time guys". A bit later, two of the people present at the meeting apologised with statments along the lines of "We had a complaint, we had to look into it", which made my day. I'm still bewildered at BC's problem, and don't understand why someone who has acted so clearly againt the NRC and could have been charged with several different things would want to draw the stewards' attention to it, but there you go.
Overall, it was a top rally. Good atmosphere, good roads (well, the ones I saw anyhow), great mix of cars, and I WILL be back if its run again.
BIG, HUGE, ENOMROUS THANKS to:
My "core" service crew. There is absolutely no doubt that I would have never gotten going after the bingle without these guys.
Mark. Team tactical supervisor, motivator, and was totally unfussed by everything. While we were out in the bush trying to make the RX-5 chassis rail look less like oragami, and I was abusing myself, all he had to say was "You were having a good go and poop happened. What's the problem?". Thanks for everything Mark.
Gemma. Service crew supervisor, and Queen of The Axle Stands. Again, nothing was too big a drama, and she was always making sure Dave and I were fed and watered, as well as all of the hands-on service stuff. Thanks for everything Gemma.
Paulie. Poor old Paul copped the brunt of the 'grunt' work all weekend, along with the majority of the running around, but was always positive and enthusiastic. Didn't even get upset when I boggered the car! Thanks for everything Paulie.
The "ring-in" service crew.
Tim and Em. The Family Frog came down partly to spectate, partly to service, so I wasn't expecting them to do a real lot, but they were everywhere, and always helping. Its hard to explain how perversely helpful and genuinely motivating it is to have a mate tell you you're a "d12khead" and have a good natured laugh at your expense in the middle of the forest in the middle of the night - hell, it wasn't like I didn't deserve it or anything... Thanks for everything guys.
Plasto. Service Beetch extrodinare. Even managed to be patient amd meticulous when I was not... Always found time to do something extra on the car, and nothing was too much to ask. Anything Jen says thanks to Plasto for, goes for me too. Thanks for everything Plasto.
Naomi. If you ever need a dispassionate, level head while in a dinky little town miles from, home at 1:45am, Namomi* is THE person to talk to. Thanks for everything Nai.
Tamsey. General purpose clown, but actually useful in the service crew! Also useful for share 'off colour' jokes and one-liners with Mark, Tim and Plasto. Tamsey seemed to be more awake than everyone at the last services, but I later found that he'd been sleeping in the service vehicles between services... Thanks for everything Beetch.
Other people:
Hagar, for telling us about the event in the first place.
Jen, for 'everything', but particuarly for allowing me to indulge and have two rally cars.
Jon Waterhouse, for the last minute scrutineering. He'll be interested to know that the car was barely checked once they'd realised it was him that had regionally scrutineered it.
Matty and Graham, and the Jamars. Didn't really see any of you that much during the event, but its damn good having mates around making sure you're OK.
Various and assorted 'heterosexual life partners' who let their other halves out for a very long weekend.
I know its politically correct to thank your service crew, but these guys REALLY worked hard all weekend. Great 'team' atmosphere, and all of them were a lot of fun to be around. You're all coming back next time, like it or not!
Edit: Makey more sensy. And speeeling. Me need sleep more.
(driver error too 
... To top it off we have Tamsey pegging the vortex across the oval onto the Mini - I'm leave him to tell that story! 
- lets just say, my initial thoughts were game over... little did I know, 2hrs later we've be back in with a chance!
I hope everyone made it home safe!
Linear Mode
