Skoda Rally Blog

A slightly earlier start for Sunday, but still not hideously so, although I’d still only managed about 5 hours sleep as I was worried about the car. When we got to service it turned out I had more to worry about – the Lintons’ tent had killed itself during the night and managed to dent Steve’s van and smash the back window. I was devastated – I know it wasn’t my fault, but I felt terrible about it. I didn’t feel terrible about what had happened to our ‘tent’ – it had been blown to bits, quite literally. All the frame was there (although not quite where we’d left it, and a bit of the steel fence had bent!), but the top was now more of a flag than a roof and the side panel (with plastic window) looked like it’d been used for shotgun practice.

Oh well, never mind. We had plenty of space next to us as the next door guys had now left, and had to park the car out of the way as we had Mr. Officious suddenly telling us we’d get towed for no good reason. Oh good.

Got to Parc Ferme, and the car started on the button, probably the best it has ever done so. It wasn’t even steamed up inside. We checked out, and just did a few things we needed to (checking what we’d done last night, etc), and another disappointment made itself clear. The alternator over-charging had fried the in-car camera, so no more in-car for us. Gutted. Off to TC out for the last but two time, we hoped. And then a long run to SS14, Brechfa. This is a nearly 30km stage, which is very long. In fact, as it was later pointed out to me, this stage and Trawscoed between them are the same mileage as a BTRDA forest event, in just two stages. And we’d be doing that twice in the course of a day. I’d liked the recce of both (and it had been good to drive on the roads I’d seen many times on video), but was worried the steering was a problem – by the time I’d reached the arrival control my right hand was already numb, and 30km of forest wasn’t going to ease that pain at all.

Brechfa starts out with quite a rough, rocky section, but it manages to be slippery too, which is interesting! However, I was glad of the slippy, to be honest – if it’s wet and sloppy then as long as we don’t go off then we wont be having big, hard hits so hopefully the car will get through. The rest of the stage was good fun, although it seemed very long; I know it was around the 30km mark (probably more given the amount of wobbling about we did), but with the slow pace we have up hills (of which there were many), the dodgy steering (which was really notchy – rather than having a smooth action it would stick every 10 degrees or so, and be hard to turn to the right), my mechanical paranoia (which was reaching international level because we were getting towards the end), it seemed to take forever, and I thought we’d be overdue at the next control before finishing the stage. As it turned out, we had a reasonably leisurely drive before the next stage, Trawscoed

Trawscoed was the one we’d recce’d first on the recce day, so the notes weren’t as good as later-done stages as we got better as we went. But again it was a chance to drive on a legendary stage and also just have a good time, providing everything held up. The back suspension on the Felicia uses standard mounts at the top, and these have taken to rattling sometimes – they can go from being silent to rattling and silent again within a Km, and I really didn’t have time to sort out what the problem was, but nothing seemed to be ready to leave the scene just yet, so I tried to forget about it and keep the car on the road.

I really enjoyed this stage. It seems to have everything – tight sections, open, fast sections, seat-of-the-pants downhills, mind-stoppingly slow uphills, hooks, crests, cambers I could chuck the car into, everything. It was great, even with all the issues we had. There were some monumentally difficult bits though, one ‘quarry’ section in particular that still managed to be slippy AND rocky, with a long, messy uphill that again had the LSD earning its keep; without I think we could have been in trouble, again! Whenever we got to a group of spectators they seemed surprised to see a car this late anyway (there was a 4 minute gap in front of us due to drop-outs), and I think even more surprised to see a little N reg Felicia trying to pick its way between the boulders and get to the end. The last section is deceptive – I kept thinking “we’re near the end”, and one time asked Paul, but there was still 10Km to go! The end was pretty slippy – it looks like a road that gets a fair bit of use, but the rain seemed to have soaked down, and it was very muddy, but this helped us as there was less to hit, but gave a few scary moments. But we made it out, and saw quite a few hadn’t, including the Lintons who were pulled over to one side of the road (a blown head gasket, it appeared). We got to the finish control with a running car and a dead arm, but more importantly with 2 stages to go and all the wheels pointing the right way.

Back to service, and once in we had a quick look at the front end. The tyres were totally worn out on the inside edge, so the bent front end was causing issues there – it had behaved itself reasonably well, all things considered, but we decided to re-toe it so there was less chance of getting punctures, and realised we didn’t have many wheels left – no new ones anyway, so we put the bent ones (both of which were little-worn) on the back as the dents wouldn’t trouble the tiny drums on the back, and they’d held pressure for at least a day. We then found the best tyres left and put them on the front, and set off for what would hopefully be the last two stages of Wales Rally GB for us, meaning we could actually get a finish.

On the road section I found a problem though, the toe was now really wrong – it was jumping all over the place, just like it did when I first put the diff in and the front wasn’t tracked properly. I thought it best to wind some more toe-out in and risk killing the tyres – the way it was it could have lurched and taken us off the road. It only took about 2 minutes to sort out as we had the tools in the toolbag (at the top, no less), and now it was much better. We also saw many of the front runners on their way back, and plenty of people out to see them drive past. They all waved to us too, as everyone had done all weekend. Whenever I could, I’d wave back, and Paul always did so.

Brechfa 2 was taken at much the same pace as run 1 – it had been raining, and was wet and slippy, but not too bad again. The numbness in my arm was now replaced by a burning, painful sensation and meant that I needed to let go of the wheel (with one hand!) on any straights (of which there were few) and open and close my hand to try to stop it from getting worse. However, the slippyness meant that the car had a couple of moments all on its own on some straights, which was quite unnerving, so I ended up deciding to grin and bear it. And once more I think everyone thought it was all over before we came through as there were several times we surprised people as we came into view, probably because the car is so quiet as well as the delay before our arrival. One had a “safety” tabard on, which we thought was funny. Momentarily, anyway! But we made it to the end, and now we only had 1 stage and then some road mileage to go.

On the way there, Paul commented on the moments we’d had, and said it was better to take it easy and really just go for a finish rather than chuck it down the road for the sake of going a bit faster, and I did agree with that. This stage was treacherous; the most slippy I have ever encountered (although that’s not saying a lot, but if you’ve never driven on clay-ey mud then you might not appreciate just how bad it can be), there were several places where I thought it was all over. We’d been told at the arrival control that there were FOUR cars off at one junction, so we made a note not to do the same. When we arrived there (downhill), it was clear to see why – without knowing it we would have been off as it was ridiculously slippy, although those who had gone off had been sensible enough to stand where we could see them as early as possible and give us some warning. Without braking 50% earlier than usual, we’d have joined them, even having only been doing about 50mph down the hill. Thankfully we got round, and once more we had to take an age to get up the slippy hill sections, which led to the marshals jumping up and down in sympathy and clapping when we finally got going fast enough to use second gear, but again once the car got going it went well.

By now most of the spectators seemed to have gone home, but we came round the top of one section and there were a few left who had braved the horrible weather and seemed startled to see another car coming round a bend, although this one had a foot-deep rut all the way round so we had to take it easy round there too. The downhill sections were good, but there was something to come – there was a right-hand hairpin followed by an easy left, but trying to get on line left us over to the right, and the car started to spin. We were doing about 40 or so at this point, but the problem was there was a drop on the other side of the road. And then some trees. It was probably over in a second or so, but I had time to poo myself, say “we could be off”, and then try to get it back. Fortunately as soon as the wheels found some grip the car went in the right direction, and all was well again. We had about 10Km or so to go, and I backed off as that was enough. THere was no reason to crash and not finish – I don’t think it was really grannying it on this last bit (still needed the notes) but we could have gone faster. But that was probably true of the entire day, if not the whole event.

We came round a right hander, into a left-hand hairpin, and over the finish. We’d done it. Finished all the stages of Wales Rally GB. Now we needed to get to Cardiff, so after a brief stop at the TC to have a chat, we set off, through the Passage Control (not sure why this was there), and on the way back. This time there were no crowds, everyone had seen the big boys through and gone home, probably to watch it on the TV!

We got back to service to find that we had to remove the WRC tracker in 20 minutes before handing it in and going to Cardiff. Here is where the weekend turned a bit sour, although Paul’s advice helped. The UHF antenna for the tracker is a magnet-mounted one, with a simple steel rod (2mm diameter) as the aerial itself, held in via a grub screw. Nothing special, in short. The price list said ?150 for this. And the aerial element itself was missing, because their grub screw had come loose – we’d not hit anything, rolled the car or whatever. Great. We bagged it up (in the bag I’d marked sarcastically “WRC Tracker Plastic Bag, £44.87”, not so funny now….), which the ISC people had said we HAD to return it in on the notice. The queue was massive for handing them in, so as soon as we got to the control and handed the card in, Paul went to get in the queue. I waited just outside the control (once the card had been returned), and the Control official (who had signed the card) came out to tell me I was cheating, because there was only one of us in the car. I told him Paul had been in the car when we handed the card in, as per the letter of the rules. However, he walked off, and then came back to basically tell me I was a liar – he said “well, I don’t think he was, and neither does the other guy” – the reason for this was that I’d handed the card to the guy out of my side of the car as it was nearer for him, and he had a crutch – we’d been doing this all weekend. This comment was made despite him having been inside a booth with no windows and unable to see if even I had been in there, let alone Paul, and let’s remember it was getting dark at this point too. Don’t get me wrong, I know the guy has a job to do, but his attitude really annoyed me – if he thought we weren’t in the car, he shouldn’t have signed the card, not what he did.

Then I found out that the ISC people had decided to charge me £30 for their crappy piece of aerial. This irked me, but Paul wisely said not to bother about it – it was £30 in a total of £6000 or something, so I shouldn’t let it spoil my memory of it. They were a bunch of petty crooks, and not worth worrying about. Let them have their £30.

So, it was off to Cardiff. Which seemed to get further away every time we drove it, the motorway just got longer and longer. But after what seemed like an eternity, and the car making every noise known to man and smelling of gearbox oil more heavily than ever before, I saw the top of the stadium. If it came to it, I’d push the thing there now, I really would. We arrived via the front entrance this time, and drove down the ramp where the “alternator issue” had happened. This time, there was no problem. We drove in, and handed in the last timecard on the last road section. We’d done it. No matter what happened now, we’d finished Wales Rally GB.

Now it was weird – there was a finish ramp procedure, and we had to wait around for a while. Paul nearly died when he realised he’d run out of fags, so he went to the shop as there were quite a few cars to get through before ours. I started grinning like a fool, and walking up and down needlessly in the way that people with too much nervous energy do, usually before an interview or court appearance. One by one the cars disappeared, and those of us from “the back”, meaning Fin and Jamie, Kate and Paul and the Lintons had a good chat.

And then it was our turn, as the last car on the road, to take the finish ramp. I was a bit disappointed we were told not to get our of the car, but this was tempered somewhat when we pulled up to the ramp and I had a fun chat with Robin, who made reference to the “out of our depth” comment I’d made ages ago at the Sunseeker. Oddly, I didn’t feel out of my depth, just amazed we’d got that far. I’m sure it looked pedestrian from outside the car, especially after the likes of Gronholm, Stohl and Solberg had flown past, but it was anything but inside. And then there was a huge surprise. Colin Hilton (head MSA honcho) appeared at my door to give us a handshake, and TWO boxes. One was a small one, one a quite large one. We’d won class A5 (OK, we were the only one in it, but we still finished) and as a result we had a second trophy. We drove off the ramp, somewhat bemused, and past the last few hardcore fans (mostly the Linton’s wives, dad and service crew We drove into Parc Ferme with all the other cars that had finished, and then had a chance to look at what we’d been handed – firstly the small “finishers” trophy, which is a glass cuboid with a 3d trophy engraved inside it with the Wales Rally GB logo above and FIA and WRC logos below. It looked great. The A5 trophy was like the first, but bigger, with “Winner Class A5” on it.

We then got out of the car, locked up, and took the opportunity to act like grockles, taking pictures and video. The Millennium Stadium is huge. HUGE. I’ve never been to a football match or anything like that, but it really is enormous. I took a bit of a look at the top kiddies’ cars, and my suspicions of how different a WRC Focus is from the normal one was confirmed – they look nothing like a Focus from the front, the whole front end is actually quite different – the front wing extensions are MASSIVE. Some of the front cars looked a bit tired, but a few of them were immaculate – what looked like brand new bumpers were fitted, all shiny and without a chipped front edge.

As we walked out of Parc Ferme, a few cars that were using the “SuperRally” rules to finish were coming in. One was a Fiesta that was held together with ratchet straps –

another was a Hyundai that we’d seen being fixed by the service crew on the side of the road. OK, we made it there slowly, but we made it under our own steam! Paul got to walk down the players’ tunnel, which I think was cool for him being a Liverpool fan and this the site of their victory in the FA Cup, but alas the dressing rooms were locked.

Then the reality of the situation hit. We were stuck in Cardiff (as I’d predicted) and the cars wouldn’t be released for at least an hour and a half. Which meant logistical issues – the van and trailer were back in Swansea, with the twins, and we had no way to get there. Ideally one of the twins would have driven the van/trailer/recce car back to Cardiff, but that wasn’t an option – no trailer licence and no insurance. However, fortunately, my friend Juliet lives in Cardiff and she offered to pick me up so I could meet the twins (who were now on the M4 on the way in to give me the van keys) and then drive the whole shooting match back to meet Paul and go home. This worked out nicely, and Juliet has now been elevated to “legendary” status for offering to do (and indeed doing) this. And providing cookies too. Thanks Jules.

I said a massive thanks to the twins for everything they’d done over the last three days – without them we wouldn’t have finished, and it would have been much, much harder anyway. They’d done everything possible on the car, had food ready for us when we got back to service, sorted out little issues here and there, and helped us achieve a dream. I was really annoyed they’d been turned away from the stages on the first day with the service pass, but at least glad they got to see some action on the Saturday stages and the Millennium Stadium stage and show. And they seem to enjoy the whole servicing aspect, and it is an important part of the whole thing. The irony is that we didn’t really use much in the way of spares, and I could actually have driven the rally car home after the event, but there you go. If I’d not been prepared, I would have needed to be, and when it’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, it’s best to be prepared!

We got back to the service area (which seemed further away again), and it was a ghost town – hardly anyone left, apart from the remnants of the works teams, the spectator tents and the Lintons’ motorhome. Everything else was gone, and there was an eery feeling there as it was wet, a bit windy and quiet, aside from a regular “beep” being emitted from some piece of equipment in the distance every 20 seconds or so. I put the recce car on the trailer, said my goodbyes and headed off for Cardiff Gate services, where I met Paul, swapped the rally car onto the trailer and set off. The wind was scary, especially on the bridge, so I slowed down for much of the trip and didn’t get in until 11:55, by which time I’d consumed 2 cans of Red Bull, and many cookies and other assorted items of food. My arm was still killing, too.