Skoda Rally Blog

I never sleep well when I’ve got something important to get up for the next day.  This goes doubly for rallying, as not only do I have something important to do, but also something to worry about – is the car going to fall apart?  As a result I woke up about 5am, and didn’t really get back to sleep, so I got up and went to put some fuel in the car – this would also give me a chance to warm the engine up and check on the coolant situation.

I went to the (high quality!) Murco down the road, and put the fuel in Paul had told me – 25 litres.  I was the only car there, so a bit surprised when the guy asked which pump – I looked outside, prompting him to look, but he didn’t, so eventually the standoff was broken when I said.  No wonder he’s working the graveyard shift!

A couple of runs up and down the road confirmed the car was running OK, but that wasn’t my main issue, so once it was warmed up OK, I went home and left it to cool down.

Checking the header tank an hour later showed there was water in there; this was the first time this had been the case, so a tiny fragment of hope appeared on the horizon.  I got everything else packed in the van (not a lot – I don’t have any right-size spare driveshafts at the moment, so if anything of significance broke it was game over), and waited for Paul to come over, as it was a 12:29 start for us.

We got to the service area about 11am to find pandemonium.  Service is now at Creekmoor park and ride, and it’s too small and cramped for everyone to use it, mostly because the different event schedules mean there are people coming in to service while others are leaving, and doing so via a single narrow access/exit road which was currently being blocked by an Army land rover on a trailer.  When they eventually moved, we went to find our space, only to see that someone had parked in it.  Once they’d been found (they seemed surprised we wanted the space!) the guys next to us thoughtfully moved over as much as they could and we got everything set up:

I checked over a few last minute things that I’d forgotten – tyre pressures (fronts were too low) and oil level (also low, but understandable as I lost a fair bit when changing the oil cooler and kept forgetting to check it).  No problem, there’s some in the van.  Except there wasn’t.  I had every other fluid I could possibly need (and a few I couldn’t ever need), but no oil.  On the upside there was plenty of time in the road section to get it done, and two petrol stations directly on route.  No need for panic.

There was a slight panic when I was being interviewed by the chap from the Daily Echo and the Clerk of the Course revised our start time – forwards by 10 minutes, so suddenly we had 11 minutes to go, which isn’t crazy, but when you’ve not done this for a long time and you’re in charge of everything and have already had a couple of oversights, it’s not the most comfortable thing to have happen.

We got strapped in and headed off.

We stopped at another Murco to sort the tyre pressures out and put a litre of their finest oil in, and then headed to the stage arrival.

For us the rally starts at SS4 – Ringwood South.  This is clearly my bogey stage as the only two times I’ve retired on the Sunseeker have been there – a blown diff in the Skoda and a snapped driveshaft in the Seat.  This combined with never having finished an event in the car meant I was a little worried, and being completely rusty (having not driven on gravel for 18 months) didn’t help either.  I decided to take it steady from the off.

Into the stage, it all comes back quickly – you suddenly remember why you do this, and work for hours and hours on the car, and spend buckets of money on parts that you might trash.  The feeling was electric, the car was feeling good, although there was no grip at the back – it was really loose and all over the place wherever there were any corners and sometimes in a straight line too if there were bumps, of which there were many.  We got past the bit where the diff exploded, and then the bit where the shaft broke, and I started to get into a bit more of a rhythm.  Paul’s navigating was as good as ever; he’s super-composed, and calls each corner nicely in advance, and if there’s any doubt in what’s going on, he will re-state it when we arrive at the corner in question.  Re-assuring stuff.

Each year you hope to improve as a driver.  Well, I do.  I’ve never claimed to be anything other than totally average, and when there’s a lot at stake I guess you drive accordingly, but the car felt good (if loose), and I wanted to get hairpins much better; they’ve always been a slow bugbear of mine, so I decided to take a bit more speed in and make use of the upright hydraulic handbrake the car has to get the back end round.

All I know is that I’ll never have another rally car without one.  It gives you so much control over the back of the car, allowing you to get it to oversteer so nicely, that I ended up using it in more than just the hairpins – squares and some sixes got the treatment too.  I was deliberately being careful on the engine and transmission, so as we went out of slower corners (which were very cut up and so there’s on/off traction which is the kind of thing that breaks shafts) I wasn’t using full throttle, but trying to act as a traction control, so I was sure it was slow (and the times confirmed this), but I didn’t care.  I was more interested in getting a few stages done, and for the most part it was good – the car felt to be on the limit on many corners, and faster would have been a bit too loose.

With SS4 out of the way, it was time for SS5, Ringwood North.  This is the longest stage of the rally by some margin (over 10 miles, compared with 4.7 for the next nearest), and one I’ve always enjoyed as most of it doesn’t get too cut up, so you actually get a chance to drive the car, rather than engage in damage limitation.  In addition I knew that Tammie and the kids were going to be there, so it was doubly important to get there!

Off we went, and the back of the car felt like something had broken; I later realised it was just the bumps on the uphill climb that made it feel that way; the left rear felt really loose.  Once we got going, though, it felt good.  The stage was way more cut up than in previous years, so there were some sections reminiscent of the (frankly awful) Wareham stages which are thankfully missing from this year’s event.  A few miles in we came to the open area of the stage where the pylons run through it, and Paul said “there’s Tammie” – no idea how he spotted her, but I could definitely see someone jumping around and waving their arms, which I thought would be Sennen!  Into a hairpin right, and on the slow exit I could see Mabel jumping around and waving her arms too – it’s funny how you can recognise someone even though you’re rather busy doing something else…

The next section of the stage was good – I got more of an idea of what gear to take specific corners in (as the gearing is totally different to the Skoda it takes a bit of time to adjust so you can be certain and commit to a corner and trust in the notes), and once this took shape I think we went pretty well.  I was still taking it easy on the acceleration out of tight corners, but got the hairpins right with the handbrake, and in a few places wanted more power, which is also a good thought to be having.  There were some fast flowing sections that were really slippy and there were a few scares in places, but I only got it really wrong in one place, heading off the road for 20 yards or so, but thankfully only being in some bushes.  This led down into the slippy, tight section where there’s a concrete bridge you could easily come a cropper on, and at that point the car behind us caught us up, so I let him past and got through the last part of the stage OK – not fast, but it was pretty bumpy and rutty in places and we saw a car off who’d totally misjudged the heavy braking at the end of a long 1R so at least we weren’t in the bushes.

Helmets off and the car sounded really squeaky, but that’s just how they often are; I think the rear top mounts are the source, but everything was where it should be, so off to Somerley for SS6

This went fine, aside from the first section which is out of the back of the estate, and where the road is really rough, so it would be easy to hit one of the many posts.  I managed to avoid them.

What I didn’t manage to avoid was the collection of many pheasants who had decided to show their dedication to rallying by getting too close to the action.  Normally I would do anything I can to avoid hitting any kind of animal when on the road, but they showed no sign of moving, and I didn’t think it would be safe to stop (plus they probably wouldn’t bloody move anyway), so I just went for it and hoped they’d move.  Some did, but one beautiful male didn’t, and I felt us hit him.  I said sorry (because obviously they speak English and would hear it), and carried on… into another group, who also got hit.  The rest of the stage went pretty much without incident, other than seeing a few cars off, and passing the Chevette that had passed us in Ringwood North at the end of the stage – we later found out their engine had seized.  There were a few other cars by the side of the road, but off to service it was for us, on a nice easy road section.

After being washed off and waiting to go into the regroup control as we headed into service, I had a chance to chat briefly with Keith, an avid rally fan who always mails to wish me well before a rally, and it was nice to say “still going” to him, rather than “it’s dying”.  What was even better was opening the bonnet to find the header tank still had perfect level in it.  I guess it was just settling down and getting rid of an airlock or two – something that the ABF is known for.  Great news.

In service, I found the cause of a new rattle – the sumpguard rear mountings are a sliding fit and I guess previously mud or whatever had stopped them from rattling, but now it was.  Nothing was loose, just some play in it, so that was fine.  I also found the rear wheel bearings had a fair bit of play in them – not good as they were fine for the MOT – so I adjusted them a bit tighter but erred on the side of caution rather than too tight, which would mean they’d overheat and break up.  There wasn’t a lot of play in them, but the car definitely felt better after this, so it’s amazing what a small change can make.  Around us, though, big changes were happening – the escort crew we were next to was putting on a brand new set of four tyres – probably the same cost as our entire event!

After a brief bit of food, it was time to go again.  The service area was much more empty now as quite a few teams in our area had packed up and gone home, so it was much easier getting out this time, and off we headed for a new stage, Uddens White Sheet.

Usually a favourite of time, I really enjoyed this one, as it has a long flat out blast (where the car was a bit feisty in places, so definitely steering angles need to be fine-tuned), then a few square corners and into a forest section with some flowing bits and a succession of sixes, which I usually enjoy, and did this time aside from being a bit worried about the proximity of spectators at one point after what happened last weekend.  I got a grip on myself though and got on with the rest of it, and it all felt good.

Next up, re-runs of Ringwood South and North.

Ringwood South went much better this time, having got the hang of what gears to use and extended my use of the handbrake, it felt to be going well.  The car was still skittish at high speed, and there was still next to no grip, but it felt good.  This is what it was all about – the times really don’t matter, it was the time that mattered.  There were a couple of moments where the road was so rutted that I thought we’d not get out, but thankfully the artificial tightening of some of these corners had been removed to reveal new road which meant it was much better for us – this is a really good idea and I hope it gets done in the future as it can be the difference between breaking the car and not.

Before Ringwood North there was a short delay and a chance to speak to some of the other crews.

Car 90 was a Fiat Stilo, the only other FWD car in our class, and it turns out we’d been faster than him for most of the day, which was pleasing.  They wanted to take it easy and get a finish as they are doing demonstration runs at Rally GB next month, which sounded like fun, and now there were only 2 stages to go, so it made sense to just consolidate and get round.

When we eventually headed into the stage, I felt like I’d already had a good day and wouldn’t mind if we didn’t finish, but still wanted to get to the end – I was surprised that I’d enjoyed it enough already to think that way, but didn’t have to think about it again as we headed off once more into an even more rutted and washboard-like stage, the first section of which was now pretty bad.  The middle was great, though, I really felt I’d got the hang of things again, and most of this part flowed OK.  Towards the end (where the concrete bridge is) I was a little more careful, but it felt better than the first run, and I knew where the big ruts and dips were to avoid, making a fair bit of time up.  We passed through what looked like a very scenic mist at one point, and towards the end I could see the Fiat, which spurred me on a bit more, but once we got to the end of the stage we could see an immense amount of smoke coming from the right-hand-side of the car, and it smelled like clutch or brakes overheating to me – really not good.

By the time we got to the passage control where the stage goes onto the road, the Fiat had cried enough and stopped.  We crept by and it was off to Somerley Park, a different version of the stage from this morning.  The first bit was much the same, including the carcasses of several pheasants, and mourners gathered around, which, sadly we also hit a few of.  I really did feel bad about that, but there really was nothing to be done.  The rest of the stage was really, really  rough.  I wish there had been a camera on the car as at one point there was an acute left which had been dug up to hell – we nearly didn’t make it through it, and it’s the same every year there, but this one even more so than usual.  I thought we’d got a puncture as the right front felt odd after a big hit, but it seemed OK and the end of the stage came up pretty quickly.

We’d finished.  All we needed to do was get back to service and then Poole Quay.  Which usually would be easy, but due to a less-than-ideal section in the road book (not particularly well drawn tulips, combined with no distances) meant a Benny Hill-style run around the spectator car park, with us being chased by the Army land rovers.  Eventually we got out OK, and got back to the service area in good time.

Finally, on to Poole Quay, which was still pretty busy.  We had a chance to say hi to a few people including Gary Hayter, and then over the finish with the Mayor saying well done, and – this is a first- the ladies from whichever ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ is sponsoring the event were still there.  This has never happened before – they are usually off as soon as the top 3 have been through!  One of them even cracked a smile as we waved as we drove along.

And that was it.  Back to service, pack up, drive home.

I’ve got a fair few things to do, the first of which is clean the car, but nothing is damaged badly, nothing fell off, and the car didn’t miss a beat all day.  I’m pretty sure the skittish nature of it is the toe angle needs sorting out, and it needs decent rear tyres (I was running modern Kumhos on the front and not great Dunlops on the back), but for now I’m going to rejoice in having finally finished an event in the Ibiza!  What a difference new driveshafts make.

Back in the day, Friday night on the Sunseeker meant driving through Bournemouth Gardens.  It was an iconic event, and probably a major contributor to me wanting to start rallying; as well as the forests, there was this totally out-of-place drive through a town centre gardens.  Not any town centre, but my town centre.

However, things have changed – for the last few years the start has been a ceremonial one on Poole Quay, and tonight it was time for that.  After a last minute change of plan I arranged to meet Paul in the car park before the CS1 control, one of the three on tonight’s start, and in the car park all the cars were ready to go:

Once Paul had got suited up and ready to go, it was time to be off, and head to the Quay.  We booked in and parked the car, once people had got out the way (mostly people who were supposed to be helping us park!).  Said a quick hello to Gary Hayter who’s looking after the Quay this year, and said hello to a few familiar faces.  Paul’s wife Clair was down with their kids Miles and Evie, and we wondered off down the road to the pointy end of things, where all the proper rally crews were, with the BRC and historic crews all in wonderful shiny cars, and all making positive noises about the stages condition when interviewed, which is a good sign for tomorrow.

What is not a good sign for tomorrow is the car – it appears that it has a water leak;  it has been fine up to now, but the header tank was empty when I got back from scrutineering which isn’t good.  I refilled it before leaving for the start, and it was on my mind all the time we were there.

We were down at the Quay for an hour or so when we went back to the car, and found Tammie and the kids there, by the car, so we said our hellos and then it was time to queue up and get going.

As I moved off, the car made a new noise, which I realised later was the diff freeing up – I’d forgotten that it takes time to bed in and then will get a bit noisier, so that’s OK, but it took a while to realise it!  Time went into fast-forward at this point, although during that time I bagged a ride as a navigator on the Tempest on November 2nd, so that’s a bonus.  A quick interview before the podium gave me a chance to make my excuses before tomorrow, and tell the world that I thought the head gasket was on the way out, and then off we went, once the Mayor had taken his flag off the windscreen (and me and Paul joked about running everyone over who was stood in the way!).

I dropped Paul off to get a ride back home with Clair, and came home – the car behaved itself all the way which was nice, temperatures looked spot on, and the water level seemed OK, so hopefully it was just a level issue, rather than anything else, but I’m really not confident.

Anyway, tomorrow is tomorrow.  It’s a late start (we are due out at 12:29pm!) so we’ll take it as it comes.  It’s been a loooong time since I’ve done this, and it really should be about having fun, shouldn’t it?  Let’s see how far we get.

In case you didn’t already know, before you start a rally, you have a number of things to do – the car needs to be noise tested, and then scrutineered to ensure a) that the car is safe for you to compete in and b) in some cases ensure that your car is eligible for the event.  In the case of this year’s Sunseeker, it’s only a) that is needed; there are no requirements in terms of car specification, other than ones that everyone has to comply with.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again.  I hate scrutineering.  It’s the last obstacle before you start an event, and it means having your work examined closely, which I shouldn’t be worried about – I’ve never had a car fail scrutineering as I check everything before I take it – but I always find it unpleasant.

This year, it’s doubly so.  The last event I finished as a driver was Sunseeker 2011, which was 30 months ago.  In that time I’ve had a fair few mechanical issues, not only with the rally car, but also with everyday cars; over the summer I spent a lot of time doing up a van for everyday use, and it turned into much more work than I thought, and a little problem with a driveshaft bearing caused me a lot of scratching of my head, sucking air through my teeth, and generally thinking that I’m mechanically incompetent.  Getting the Ibiza MOT-ed was a big step forward, but there’s still the ghost of inability lurking on my shoulder, and those nagging doubts were there all the way to the service area.

This year sees big changes to the event, notably that the service area is now at Creekmoor park and ride instead of Canford Arena, so it’s a fair bit further away from my house (boo!), but it’s fully tarmac covered (hooray!).  Hopefully the weather won’t be too windy as it’s a bit exposed in places down there.  Noise test is down there, so it was my first visit to the area, and it’s well set up with some of the top teams already in place and working away as their cars will have been doing recce and shakedown.  The noise test was at the end of the service area, and passed easily (92dB, the limit is 100dB, which anyone who knows will tell you means my car seems nearly half as loud as it could do), and then it was off to scrutineering with just the tiniest bit of excitement and feeling that I belong once more starting to grow.

Scrutineering was at “Bump!” a body repair place, and once there (over an hour early, which is OK in this event) there was the usual queue of cars – a mint-looking Mk1 Escort behind me, it looked like a show car, plus some other cars that you don’t want to hit:

There were of course some marshals and some people who’ve come to have a look.  Had a chat with a few of them, got everything ready, and after about 10 minutes, in I went.

With everything unloaded ready for scrutiny, there was a delay – the scrutineer’s online identity was being stolen, and he had an important phone call to take, so I now had a wait which seemed like eternity, with everything ready to go – a bit like going to the Doctor, taking your clothes off to be examined and being left in the room.  It was probably only 5 minutes, but it seemed like an age!

Thankfully, the next scrutineer (who does the event every year) took over, checked everything out and all was OK.  Phew.  Closed the bonnet, double-checked the pins and off I went, nice and slowly.  On the dual carriageway, gave it some beans, it felt lovely, so I said that.

Out loud.

What happened?  Yes, of course – the car started to misfire badly.  I couldn’t believe it; you couldn’t write something like this; it works fine for ages and then THIS. I limped home slowly, and thought the worst on the way.

Thankfully, what had happened soon became obvious.  When checking the car over (as he should!), it looked like one of the HT leads from the coil to the spark plug had come loose, and come out when I gave the car some beans.  Pushed it back in, and it was perfect.  Took it for a little drive just to make sure.  All is well.  The car is ready to go, and Paul’s on his way back from work so we’ll go down to Poole to do documentation and then we’ll be ready for tonight, the ceremonial start at Poole Quay.