Skoda Rally Blog

Last time I attempted Abingdon, it didn’t go well. I’d only had the Ibiza up and running for a few months, and I’d never finished an event in it, a pattern which was continued when it expired about a mile into the event with a shattered inner CV joint.

This time I wanted it to be different. I’ve not done much on tarmac, and that has mostly been because in a fairly low powered car it’s not that much of an adrenaline rush – forestry is much better for that in a slower car. But far more importantly, I wanted to do what I’d originally planned, which was to complete an event with Tammie as my co-driver. Not because I think she’d ever be interested in the sport, but just so we’d have done it together at some point. So I’d cajoled her into it again this year, and it would also mean we’d have a second “trial run” with our trailer tent before we set off on a major trip in the summer to the south of France. Two in one – ideal!

We set off after lunch on the Saturday, and it took a couple of hours to get to Abingdon, and by the time we got there it was HOT. The bad weather we’d originally been promised had been and gone, and now it was a lovely summery day. The site was already really busy as there is a sprint on the Saturday, and we dropped off the trailer tent and Tammie and 3 kids went shopping while Sennen helped out with the rally car. Already unloaded, we went and bought some numbers, stuck them on and then went to noise, which went as well as ever (90dB, 10 under the limit) and scrutineering which I always detest no matter how nice the scrutineers are. This one was nice and friendly, and signed the car and camera off without incident. Time to relax!

Except, of course, it wasn’t because it was time to set up the trailer tent, which has a HUGE awning on it. Everyone was back with food and water, and 90 minutes later we had a place to stay for the night.

We went and got signed on which was straightforward, and later on dinner consisted of some pizzas cooked on the Safari Chef stove we’d bought. Had an interesting chat with some guys running a golf who were interested in the Ibiza as it shares so much with their car, so they had a good look around and went away with a few ideas of what to do with their car – they’re in a similar situation to me, running on a shoestring, so every little helps. The Ibiza is a really well built car with a lot of neat touches, and I know from previous experience how useful it is to see how others have approached a car’s build. Later on we went for a wander around site and caught some nearby fireworks, but everyone was pretty tired and it was time for bed – by 11pm on a Saturday night. Rock and roll!

Sunday dawned perfectly clear and bright, and it was clearly going to be a hot on. I got the van down to the service area and got a nice spot, and then took the car down with Eddie sat in it. He said it was really fast – mostly because it’s bumpy and he couldn’t see out of the windows, I think!
Back to the tent for breakfast, and then it started to kick in. Rally nerves. I’ve not had them for a while, and certainly not this badly. I was getting really anxious, but then I think it was because I didn’t want to suffer the same kind of short trip as last time. The kids were instructed with safe routes around site and then set up watching the complex, and we watched the first few cars through (the field was about 50 minutes’ worth so we had plenty of time), and then got the belts adjusted properly for Tammie and we were pretty much ready to go. Check everything over – all was well – and then suit up, and head off for the start of Stage 1.

There was a bit of a delay, which is always a bit confusing for a first time Navigator, as she had to get out and check with the control that we wouldn’t be penalised…

.,. but eventually we lined up on the stage start.  Tammie was watching the oncoming traffic for the merge – there was none – and then 5…4…3…2…1…GO! We were off! I took it easy off the line as I don’t see that much point in nailing it and breaking something, but we soon got up to speed. Tammie called the corners clearly and precisely, and the first thing was to get the brakes and tyres up to temperature. We headed into the complex, and she called everything OK, and soon we’d got past where we’d broken down last time, which was a start! Off out of the complex and onto the main airfield and the car went pretty well – it’s far easier to make sure you’re in the right gear when you’re on tarmac as you can consistently wring the engine’s neck until the redline; on gravel the revs are far more “up and down” as you lose traction, so the peaky nature of the engine wasn’t the handicap it can be on gravel. With the brakes and tyres up to temperature, they could be worked far harder, and really started to earn their keep. I didn’t trust them 100% yet, buy they certainly slowed us down OK.

It takes time to get the approach and exits to corners right, particularly in a new car (as it were), and also a new surface. When the maps are a little less precise than detailed pace notes it’s even more so, so some of the corners were a bit over-cooked (overspeed on the entry as DC would say), and others could be taken faster. Mental notes made, we headed off into the one section I didn’t remember from before, which took us off the main runways and onto some broken tarmac and concrete sections. On the maps they were just large looks but they were actually much more complex in reality, with some rocky hazards and potholes to try to avoid both to minimise damage and keep the speed up. In reality I’d spend the rest of the day trying out different lines to improve this section, and only come up with the “best” solution just before we reversed directions and therefore the knowledge became useless!

Tammie called the split – this was the one thing that I’d always told her was crucial, and round we went for lap 2. By this time all the other cars were well into the stage (we were 8 from the back), and we took it just like before, but a bit faster now we were in a rhythm. Everything went well, and on the next lap lines were improved a bit and confidence came back. I wasn’t thrashing the car, but it felt good and we went over the finish feeling like the job had been done well. Or more to the point, I did. I had a poorly navigator who was feeling pretty car sick and needed most of the service time to get over it. Not good.

What was also not good was that the catch tank was already full of oil – about half a litre of it – which I needed to drain out, and then top the engine up. This issue only presented itself on saturday morning, and I thought it was just a cumulative thing, not that it was a sign of impending mechanical failure. The car’s previous owner said that they had trashed the tuned head originally fitted to the car as it had breathing difficulties, and it looked as if that was back. There was no real way to fix it, and I just hoped the oil consumption would be consistent and mean we didn’t run out of oil, but either way I’d see how it went. I didn’t want a broken car, and nor did I want a broken girlfriend – either situation would mean a planned retirement for me. Sennen checked all the things I’d asked him to check (tyre pressures, wheel nuts, water and power steering fluid levels), and indeed did so for the rest of the day as well as helping with the drain procedure each time.

Fortunately by the time Stage 2 was due, Tammie had recovered, and we set off again. It went better than before, and we took about 30 seconds off the time of SS1. Tammie was again excellent, calling each corner with precision and authority, and reminded me not to go crazy on the rough section with just the right balance of control and competitiveness. But alas, as soon as we were out of the stage she felt terrible, and needed to lie down. She found this funny as she said she wasn’t scared and felt fine in her head, but felt sick and was shaking a bit by the end of the stage. I said to try to separate reading the notes (head down, so you can’t see the scenery) and looking out of the car (not reading the map at this point), and hoped that would help.

What had also not changed was the car’s drinking habit – the catch tank was full again, and there were signs of it coming out of the air filter.  Once more it drank half a litre. At least it was the same as before.

SS3 was upon us around the time Tammie started to feel OK, but it was a shorter stage layout, missing out on the section going down to the far end of the stage. Despite this, the timings meant we didn’t see anyone throughout it, other than right at the end of the first lap when someone else was splitting to go to the end and we went round again. Being a shorter stage, the car used a bit less oil (although still 350ml or so), and fortunately that combined with either getting used to it or travel sickness tablets meant Tammie felt OK-ish at the end.

SS4 was the “opposite” of SS3, removing the run through the complex and instead having two runs down to the far end of the airfield. This was a fair bit quicker, and off the line I could see Norman in his 205GTI on his second lap, so I thought I’d see if I could catch him. I got close, but never close enough to overtake, but could see his car had decent acceleration and most importantly really hooked it up out of the corners – the Ibiza is a bit lacking in bottom end and it really showed here. On the brakes we were way better, making up loads, but again never enough to be held up much, so I thought better of trying to be a hero/moron and just waited until the second lap to go as fast as I dared. Other than that, things were going well – tyres felt good (particularly amazing as they were old when I bought them in 2012!), and Tammie was good – didn’t miss a thing at any point. At the end of this stage she seemed fine straight away, which was even better.

There was a slightly longer gap between SS4 and 5, so I quickly got a “lunch” of a bowl of Sugar Puffs, once the car had been drained of the oil it had used this time. The consumption didn’t seem to be getting worse, so that was a bonus.

Into SS5, and another new layout. At the start we’d seen a yellow Escort Cosworth which Tammie said looked like it was made of Lego, and so it became known as the Legomobile for the rest of the day. It was putting out a LOT of smoke off the start line, and didn’t seem happy. We went into the stage soon after, and passed a few cars and saw the sick Legomobile towards the end of first lap, when we were catching it hand over fist. He went off (I assume to take a maximum) and we did lap two without too many issues. Once more back into service, repeat the draining procedure, but everything bar one thing was fine. And that thing was fuel. We had used a LOT – nearly the full tank I’d put in as I didn’t want too much messing about – so rather than use the (I think 2 year old) fuel in the Jerry Can, I decided to go to Abingdon to put some fuel in. Fortunately traffic was light, but it was HOT in the car, particularly waiting for the person in front to fill up, who then took a while browsing in the shop before paying. Still, I was back with about 10 minutes to spare before SS6 which was good

SS6 was the penultimate stage layout, and a reverse of the previous layouts saw a bit of a delay and some confusion with car positions as the lanes have to cross over (cars coming out of the stage start out on the right-hand of the road, but needing to be on the left hand for the passage control. Still, after a short delay, in we went… it was going fine until the car lost power. Gauges all looked OK, but I looked in the mirror and there was a huge plume of smoke behind us. I thought the engine had died and said so to Tammie, but it kept going OK and cleared in 100 feet or so, so I carried on, keeping a weather eye on the gauges, all of which seemed OK. This stage had a transition over grass which was a bit slippy but good fun, and the last time round I was catching a Micra right at the end and thought I heard an odd sound. I hoped it was him, not me, but as we split towards the end I knew it wasn’t. One of the marshals said the sump guard had dropped off (which seemed unlikely), but as we went down the road there was a road-speed related whirring noise, so something was clearly not right. The Passage Control people said they could smell burning. Oh dear.

Into service, and the problem was soon revealed. This was stuck in the back of the sumpguard and dragging on the road (and thankfully hadn’t damaged the front tyre):

Once removed, I went for a quick test drive and all was well. We might make it yet. Standard procedure (drain the oil tank), and off we went once more.

SS7 was the last new layout (SS8 is a re-run), and we went into it pretty positive. Tammie was now feeling OK throughout the stages, and while going in reverse led to her only mistake of the day (getting a bit lost at one point), she regained it quickly and did a marvellous job again. We overtook a fair few cars (some being lapped, some legitimate) and it seemed to go well, aside from another “Dick Dastardly Plume of Smoke” that was released at one point, and the oil pressure getting a bit low towards the end. As ever, drain the tank, top the engine up, check everything over, and hope for the best.

We headed into the last stage – SS8 with some hope that we’d actually finish. I wanted to do all the stages and get a proper finish, but didn’t want to kill the car doing so – being able to drive the car afterwards would be very useful, and seeing the cars waiting to be recovered out on stage meant there would be a fairly long delay before getting back, so that was also in my mind. But all these things get forgotten as soon as the lights go green and off we went. The first lap went OK, but I noticed some liquid on the screen at one point, and it wouldn’t wash off easily with the wipers. But the car went pretty much as before, so I kept going, but kept an eye on the oil pressure gauge. Towards the end of the second lap, just heading into the complex and having just overtaken a Micra, the gauge wasn’t reaching the pressure it usually would, and there was clearly a problem. I told Tammie and decided to take it easy for the last couple of miles – I put the hazards on in case anyone caught us, but really took it very easy on the engine, watching the pressure gauge as much as the road. It never got to zero, but it got close a couple of times. When we pulled up at the stop control there was smoke pouring out from under the bonnet, and at the Passage Control I stopped the engine and hovered over the extinguisher button, just in case. Once the damage declaration had been signed, I started up again and parked at the side of the road.

I got out and saw a complete mess – the car had lost a lot of oil, and it was over the bonnet, bumper and wings.

I suspected a failure of an oil pipe, but opening the bonnet showed that what had happened was the oil filler had come off! I guess this was my fault – I put it on last – and it meant the engine bay was a complete mess. The oil was dripping off everything, and thankfully looked mostly to be confined to the sumpguard, and my arm.

I got the trailer, got back to the car (which Sennen said had a couple of visitors saying things like “ooh, that’s a mess!” etc…), and got it loaded up. By now, oil had made its way into the cabin, so it was messy all round, but it was never going to be easy to clean up after that little episode…

Then it was off to pack up the trailer tent, which took about an hour, and we finished putting the cover on just as it started to rain. And it rained with a vengeance – I foolishly thought I’d get it hitched onto the car before putting my coat on, which was a big, wet mistake. Soaked in about a minute!

Still, that was that – Abingdon 2014 was done, and Tammie has finished a rally. The only one she’ll ever need to, but at least when I babble on about it in future, she’ll really know what I mean.

Having spent all of Monday packing away and cleaning up, I can see that the car will need some surgery; I put some oil in to allow me to move it about and it has decent oil pressure (4 bar straight away), but it was usually more like 6, so clearly that and the ‘heavy breathing’ issue means that it needs some work on it. However, I have a list a mile long of things to do, and money is tight at the moment. It’s looking pretty dubious that the car will be back out any time soon – in my mind I think that making the Sunseeker is the earliest possibility, and that would probably have to involve a secondhand bottom end; to build a decent bottom end would involve at least £1000 worth of parts alone, so it would probably be £1500 or so, and I just don’t have the money for that. Time for a lottery win, or a cheaper hobby.

Today was the Tempest Rally 2013.  It’s an event I’ve done several times before, but this year there would be a change, I’d be navigating for Ricky Aitken, who I’ve known for a few years – he navigates for Gary Hayter in his various cars, and has MOTed my cars on a few occasions.  When I saw him at the start of Rallye Sunseeker, Ricky said he was looking for a navigator for the Tempest to sit in with him in Gary’s 205, and it went from there.

We wanted to get to the event as the service area opened as it’s usually best to avoid the scrutineering queue, and usually something or other turns up that you want to sort on the car, so that meant a 5:15 departure from Ebblake Tyres in Verwood.  Fortunately Ricky had everything ready and loaded with the car on the trailer and the tow car already hitched, it just had to be driven out of the unit and off we went.

We got to the service area early, but there’s always someone earlier than you, and once unloaded we got set up in the service area, at the end where hopefully there would be plenty of space.  We got through scrutineering quickly and without any issues, which is always nice, but it’s always a bit more relaxed when it’s not my car that’s being examined!

Next to us was a Mitsubishi Evo which looked incredible – all carbon fibre, WRC wings, etc.  It sounded like a race motorbike too.  Lovely.

The service area was getting busy by this time, but we still had a couple of hours before we’d be off (at 9:57), so we made some last minute adjustments including the drivers’ seat position which was a bit far back, and got everything else we thought we’d need into the car.  The last thing to do was a bit of a discussion about the day’s aim (to finish!) and how far I should go in terms of egging him on or holding him back if I thought he’d gone AWOL.  We decided on a fairly easy approach, which suited me fine!  We saw Tony Hawkins in his BMW which he’d mentioned had a misfire on Facebook the night before, and alas it still had it, as well as reverse lights permanently on!  Always nice to see Tony, and he’s always full of enthusiasm, so I hoped the misfire wouldn’t ruin his day.  We had a quick chat with the crew in car 59 who were running a 205 but one place in front of us.  However, theirs was a 1.9 with an MI16 engine and a pair of twin 40s on it, so it probably had twice the power of the bog stock 1600 in our car.

Soon enough, the service area started to thin out, and it was time for us to go, having triple-checked we weren’t going without the vital stuff (helmet, road book, time cards, pace notes), and off to our first stage, SS21, Warren 1.   If you’re wondering, the Tempest is divided up into 2WD and 4WD events, with each event getting first run at at several of the stages, and all our stages were in the 20s.  Warren is a fair distance from service, so we had a chance to get comfortable and get prepared for the stage, and we got there in good time and got ready to go.  The weather we’d been promised was miserable, but it was actually fairly bright and not currently raining, so off we went.  It went pretty well; we certainly didn’t set the world on fire, but this was Ricky’s first time driving in a rally, and only the second time competitively (previously he’d done a sprint), so it was definitely a case of shakedown.  The car was working OK, which was good, and the notes flowed OK;  Ricky’s used to “6 fastest” notes, which takes a bit of mental adaptation for me, as I’m used to a 5 or 6 corner being severe, whereas it’s now a 1 or 2 which needs attention, so I’d highlighted them in case I forgot this, but I needn’t have worried; once you get going your brain takes care of the switch quickly, like switching from LHD to RHD and back.  There were no major dramas, and the car behaved OK, and we seemed to be getting on OK in the car.  Good stuff.

Stage 2 was SS22, Pavilion 1, and we only got there in time – there were some delays on the road section due to road works, and while we had some penalty free lateness to use, we’d always rather get there in time, which we just about managed, so it was straight to the start and off we went.  Pavilion was pretty rough; there are a few places where the stage makes a detour to create a ‘large chicane’, maybe going off into the woods and then back onto the gravel track.  The first of these was pretty tight, but fortunately the car has an upright handbrake, so it make easy work of it.  On one of the longer straights we were going pretty well and suddenly there was a HUGE pothole that wasn’t in the notes, and also wasn’t visible until it was too late, and we hit it going pretty much as fast as we could.  The back of the car flew up into the air, having taken a big hit on the way in.  Once Rick got the car back in shape, we pressed on, but something was broken.  The dashboard had broken off!

The part that covers the clocks and provides the air vent had broken clean off on the impact, and was loose.  I couldn’t reach it to hold it in place when strapped in, so we carried on through the stage.  The car seemed otherwise unhurt by this impact, and we carried on. Other bits were rough and each time we hit something else, the dashboard slipped into a more awkward place, but fortunately didn’t stop Ricky from driving the car OK.  We got to the end of the stage, relieved that nothing else had broken, and Ricky took the now completely detached section and chucked it in the back of the car, as we had to shoot off to SS23, Rushmoor.

I say shoot off, we had to wait while we got the timecard back from a couple who seemed to be having a bit of a matrimonial dispute!  Once they’d finished, off we went.

Rushmoor Arena is next to the service area and gives a good viewpoint to anyone in service as well as general spectators.  In the past the transitions between tarmac and gravel/soil have been treacherous, claiming victims of the unwary, so we noted this before the start.  The other unusual thing about it is that it has merges and splits as you do two laps; this isn’t something that happens on many multi-venue events, but Ricky’s done lots of single-venue events as a navigator so they shouldn’t be too strange.  Off we went, and fortunately the merge was clear so we were free to go at the first corner with abandon.  Once again the handbrake did the trick and round we went.  The transision was much better than in previous years, and the stage hadn’t cut up as much as I remembered in the past, which was good.  The notes were pretty good, aside from the “split right” actually being a “drive straight on”, but I guess you can’t please everyone…. one person who wouldn’t be pleased was  the driver of the Mk1 Escort which was now minus a wheel, parked up on one side of the stage.  We got round the first lap and found the merge thankfully clear (indeed, didn’t see anyone else on the stage aside from the beached Escort), and on the second lap headed off into the woods again for the quick blast over the finish, a near jump through gate posts.

The drive back to service was short, but there was a bit of a wait as there was a regroup control on the way in – these are designed to get the event’s cars all back in one “lump”, to allow for the slower cars at the back of the field being slower and to get everyone back at one minute intervals.  During that time we assessed the car (all seemed well aside from this!)…

…and chatted to the others around us about how their day had been going.  We got a results sheet and while the times weren’t stellar, we were still going and having a good time.  It would have been foolish to expect anything more, in fact!

Into service, we checked the car over and there wasn’t really anything to do – everything was as it should be, so we got ourselves ready for the next run, having noted that already there were a few victims – the service area was already thinning out, and quite a few cars hadn’t made it to this point, only a third of the way through the event.

Once everything was done, it was time to go, so we set off to SS24

SS24 was Pavilion 2, and it had cut up fairly badly already – the start was quite “washboard”, and despite being only 150M to the first corner, it seemed to take an age to get going – the ground was so rutted and washboarded that the poor Peugeot just couldn’t get us going.  Fortunately after the first corner it wasn’t as bad, and we made a better stab of it this time; the tight bits were taken well by Ricky, and we knew where the pothole of doom was waiting for us and took appropriate avoiding action.  About half way through the stage the car felt odd – it just felt very loose and spongey; Both of us noticed it, and initially thought we may have a puncture, but carried on through the rest of the stage.  One heavy braking point was quite dicey, but at the end of the stage Ricky checked the car over and all was well.  I’ve had a number of times I’ve been convinced that a car has a puncture, but 90%+ of the time it’s not been the case.  I’d have to add this into that group as well, although I’ve never felt it as a navigator before!

SS25 was Ash 1.  Ash is a stage which I’ve never really enjoyed.  It’s a long fast run for the first part, and then has a square left at the end of an uphill section that has caught many out in the past, but this year there’s a chicane just before it, so it’s unlikely someone would launch their car into the shrubbery at this point.  When we got there it was apparent that something wasn’t right; there were lots of cars there at the stage start, so it was clear there had been a delay.

It later transpired that there had been a couple of fairly big offs, one of which we were warned about as a large black hole had developed on the stage and thrown Julian Wilkes off at considerable speed:

We also later found out that Pat Flynn had also had a big off here.  Fortunately both crews were OK, which is always good news.

The cars coming round for their second run started to appear and queue up, and while we were waiting to go into the (now re-started) stage, they headed off, so we concluded that Ash 2 had been cancelled; the delay meant we weren’t far off the starting time for the second run, and given the stage’s usual reputation and what had clearly happened to two crews, neither of us were particularly sad about that.

Into the stage, it was OK on the first section, but once we got to the danger areas, it was clear what had happened; the stage had cut up considerably, not surprising given the rain leading up to the event, and the crash areas were passed fairly gingerly.  The rest of the stage actually went pretty well, with a couple of small moments but nothing to write home about.  Once we got to the passage control at the end, it was confirmed that we should head off to Longmoor, not re-run Ash, and off we went on the longest road section of the event at around 25 miles.

When things go wrong on a rally, it’s a true test of the organisation of the event; competitors shouldn’t be penalised when there’s not enough space to get into a holding area, and there was quite a glut of cars present when we arrived.  This was well dealt with by the crew there and the organisers, so although there was a bit of a delay for us, it wasn’t a problem.  We had a chat with a few of the other crews while we waited, but soon enough it was time for Longmoor.

This is quite different from the stages used on the Longmoor Loco (which I did with my Sister in the Ibiza), it uses the perimeter road round the camp, and is fairly long at nearly 6 miles.

The start is a long, long, long right turn, and then you’re into a mixture of mud, concrete, tarmac and gravel.  There are some really good parts to the stage, and some interesting and demanding sections too, mixed with areas which are covered by trees and pretty slippy.  Plenty of parts were noted as being slippy in the notes, and they turned out to be even more so, but Ricky did a good job here, and we were near the end of the stage without any real dramas.  There’s a long (700) straight towards the end, and at one point I saw Ricky looking down, it turned out he was checking what gear the car was in as it’s not easy to feel from the lever’s position!  I was slightly concerned when it happened, but there you go.  “85” he commented as we passed that speed, and then braked for the chicane at the end.  Soon enough, we’d finished the stage.  Ricky was pretty pleased, and so was I.  The sun was out, the car was happy and we’d had at least one run of every stage.

Next up, a 40 minute wait at the remote service area next to the stage – this facilitates the running of the event with back-to-back runs of the same stage and avoids a pair of long road sections.  However, it does seem quite at odds with the usual ‘always busy’ feeling that you get on most multi-venue events; usually when you set out you are then busy all the time, but here there were a few gaps (there would have been similar between Ash 1 and Ash 2 if 2 had run).  Either way, we parked up, checked everything on the car and goofed about until it was time to go back in.

Longmoor 2 started the same as the other run, with the long right hander, and the stage ran a bit better for the most part – when you’ve seen a stage once the notes mean more and there are pointers to help you out that you’d never be able to put in written notes.  Ricky pushed a bit harder, and the stage seemed a bit more slippy than before.  There’s an open section where you go over a big crest and need to be in the middle of the road, and we weren’t quite central, and paid the price.

Over the crest itself was OK, but as we went down the far side, we ended up a bit (about half a car’s width) off from where we should have been, and took to the verge as a result.  Our biggest moment, but Ricky got the car back on the grippy bit of the road soon enough, and we kept going.  Just like on the TV when the moment is put behind them, and they just carry on.  The next section was in the trees, and pretty slippy.  We saw a couple of cars off, one was (I think) a 205 which was heavily buried, the crew were out and OK, but the car didn’t look like it’d be going anywhere for a bit.  Caution was taken but still giving it some fair stick, and braking points were taken nearer the corners, particularly at the end of the long straight.  Once again, soon enough, the stage was finished, and Ricky was really happy.  Good work.  Now we needed to get back to service.

On the way back, the terratrip decided to pass out for a while, but seemed OK.  We were making good time, and got back to the regroup with 7 minutes to spare.  Well, 7 minutes until I checked my backup stopwatch, it was actually 4!  Time to turn the terratrip off, as it wasn’t measuring distance all day, and couldn’t be relied on for time either!  Into service, and time to check the car over again, and put the light pod on.

All went nicely, and everyone else was packed or packing up.  We set out for the last two stages, the first of which was under a mile away, Rushmoor 2.

Rushmoor 2 was much like 1; the stage hadn’t cut up as much as in previous years, and now knowing the “split right” was a straight, it was plain sailing.  What wasn’t, however, was the light pod which moved around a fair bit, and the lights went off several times during the stage – seemed to be a loose connection, but difficult to tell.  Still, good stuff, and despite a couple of little issues, we finished pretty quickly, getting a bit of air at the end.

There was now just one stage left, Warren 2, so we set off, and got there in reasonable time, again going through some roadworks before getting there, but by the time we got there  it was dark, and we’d need the lights all the way.

The start of the stage was properly cut up, and this continued throughout.

There’s something special about rallying in the dark.  I’ve always liked it, and yet there are things that I don’t like about it at the same time.  Because you’re doing it late in the day, you know there’s a sense of jeopardy; that all your work so far could still go down the drain – the finish line somehow seems more distant because of this.  Stages tend to be second or third use by this point, so they are generally well used and cut up.  If there have been lots of powerful cars there, they will often be really rough at the start and transitions into or out of tight corners.  Cameramen lurk at many tight corners, and you can be momentarily blinded by a camera flash at an apex of a corner.  People in high-vis clothing can be seen for miles, and sometimes appear out of your line of vision.  Sometimes a stage layout is easier to work out when you can see reflective barriers or marshals a mile away.

Warren 2 proved to have all these and more.  The stage was pretty rutty, but Ricky was on a bit of a mission, and we went pretty well, when we weren’t being vibrated to death by the stage.  The back was pretty loose because of the rough nature of it but there were no serious moments in terms of losing the car.

What was serious was about half way through the stage I thought I saw a spark under the steering column, but kept reading.  And then it was there again, and much worse.  Clearly Bonfire Night had come a bit early to car 60, as there was a sparkler going off under the dashboard.  We lost the lights momentarily, and then the battery light came on.  We kept going to the end, but as soon as we did, Ricky turned the lights off as it looked like the car wasn’t charging.  OK, it was only an 11 mile road section again, but if the battery wasn’t up to snuff, it could well die before we got back.

We got the timecards sorted out, and then headed back, tailing traffic as much as possible, and using sidelights where it was possible.  I turned everything off inside the car that I could, and used my phone as a light for the road book.  There was another delay at the road works, and we were worried that we’d need to turn on the (very high current draw) cooling fan, but fortunately we got going soon enough.  Car 59 got lost in front of us, but we followed another one back to service, and we’d made it, with gauges sagging as the battery went flat, and one spotlight missing that had dropped off in Warren 2.

Tempest 2013 – done!  Car was pretty much in one piece, driver was happy, just a case of loading up and going home.  Ricky has a few things to sort out on the car, but nothing too serious, and many would settle for that at the end of the day.

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.

So, I’ve been pretty short of time recently, and as a result I’ve not always posted stuff when it happened, or I’ve totally forgotten things that have happened.

One of them was the night before the MOT, the car sprang a leak.  Or two, in fact.  The fuel system on the Ibiza is (in my opinion overly-) complex, having an FIA-spec ATL fuel cell in the boot, which then feeds an under-floor pump setup.  I’d never really looked into it (after all, it worked OK), but it turns out there are two ‘lift’ pumps (for the two outlets on the ATL cell) and then a high pressure pump and filter.  The HP pump and filter look to be a VAG group item, which has been put in place here instead of the standard in-tank item.  This means that there are about 9 hoses under the floor connecting this and the return all together.  Two decided to leak, and I had to fix them for the MOT – fortunately I had the right hose in the garage, so it was just a late (10pm!) pain in the bum, being soaked in petrol and then rain, in the dark.  Nice.

However, previously I’d replaced the engine-bay hoses as well, as these had perished, so clearly all of them were on the way out.  The last thing I need is a DNF (or indeed a car-consuming fire!) as a result of a failure of one of these, so it was time to change them all.  Off to Thread and Pipe to get some more hose, and then all the hoses and fittings came off, with 6 needing replacement (one is a much better spec all rubber hose and isn’t a problem).  Easy enough, except they can be a right pain to get off, and getting the Goodridge fittings off the old braided hose took some work as there was lots of corrosion in there, as well as loads of mud and grit that needed to be cleaned scrupulously to get it all out.  With that done, all the hoses were cut to match the originals (two more of which were definitely weeping, so who knows how long they would have lasted?), and then replaced.  Easy, but another couple of hours taken up, including testing it – no leaks, and it looks a lot better.

Maybe it’s just me, but every car I’ve had which has had braided hose on, it’s degraded after a few years.  The Favorit did it, the Felicias both did it, and so has the Ibiza.  Braided looks amazing when it’s on, but the cheaper rubber hose inner stuff just dies after a while, and ‘sweats’ fuel vapour normally – the smell in the Felicia was pretty bad even when brand new; replacing it with rigid hose transformed the feeling in the car on long road sections as you were no longer off your face on unleaded!  Rant over.

Next up, final check of everything before putting the guards back on.  A general check showed nothing stupid had happened, but there was some oil on a couple of lines that was a bit suspicious; cleaning it up and then running the car for a while showed that it was just left over from the previous issue with the old oil cooler, as it now works without any leakage, thankfully.  Time to dig (literally) the sumpguard out from behind the shed, give it a good clean and bolt it up… except the bolts were missing after they were so much effort (read: needed a nut welding to them) to get off.  Another trip to AllFix got that and the bumper bolts replaced with nice button-headed ones, and in place.

Finally, removing Tammie’s name from the windows and wing, and putting Paul’s there instead.  It’s been a LONG time.  On Saturday, we’ll be doing the Sunseeker, the first rally mileage I’ve driven since June 2012, and the first gravel event since February 2012!  To be blunt, I’m hoping for a finish, nothing more – it’s been a LOT of work to get the car back together, and hopefully I’ve addressed all of its issues – the suspension is better, the geometry spot on, the cooling better and power increased too, as well as better traction with the Gripper diff.  Here’s hoping all goes smoothly.

A few times in the past I’ve navigated for Ray Read in his Audi Quattro; most of the time he has a regular navigator and mechanic, but Stuart was away on holiday and Ray wanted to do the event, so I got a call a while ago, and sat in with Ray for the day.  Regency stages is a fairly new rally and held at Bath and West showground, near Shepton Mallet.  An early start to the event’s timetable meant a 5am start for me, and a fun-filled cross-country drive to get there in time for scrutineering which opened at 7:15.  I got there around that time, met up with Ray and got set, and realised we’d not been to noise test (it’s been a while!), so by the time we’d tested, we were in a huge queue of cars, but eventually we got all checked out and all was well.  It’s so much more relaxing going to scrutineering when it’s not my car that’s being examined!  Once that was done, the paperwork was out of the way and we were ready to go, aside from one thing – it was now raining lightly, and the nearest thing to suitable tyres Ray had were a pair of super soft tyres that had been cut as intermediates, so these went on the back of the car, and we had dry tyres on the front.

Stage 1 was a testament to correct tyre choice (or lack of choice).  The quattro is a vicious, violent beast when it’s all hooked up properly, but the complete lack of grip meant that the launch off the line was far less aggressive than normal, and as soon as we needed to brake for the first decent-sized stop it became apparent that there wasn’t much grip – the car squirmed a great deal, and this went on for most of the first lap round the stage.  On the second a lock-up and avoiding action meant a fair chunk of time was lost, and while we didn’t hit anything of significance, we were certainly slow; we later found out we were in the way of car 7 for half of one lap (sorry!), but it’s impossible to see anything in Ray’s mirrors, and there’s no chance of hearing anyone’s horn as the car has a solidly-mounted gearbox which means at speed the helmet’s sound protection is much needed – without, it would be deafening, as the entire car resonates with the gearbox and engine’s vibration.

Stage 2 was much the same, although a small improvement was had (about 20 seconds), and we caught Dave Boden in his Sierra Cosworth; the stage is very tight (only really a car width throughout), and I’d just said to Ray that I wasn’t sure where we could pass him when Dave went off the track, so we tried to nip by, although we also got a bit sideways, and for a while it was Strictly come rallying until we got it together and got away.  We were running as car 12, so fairly early on the running order, and when we got back to service we heard rumours that a spectator had been hit out on the course, but nothing concrete was forthcoming, so we got ready for stage 3, and queued up for the stage arrival control.

As soon as we queued up it was apparent that the rumours were true – no cars were running, and soon enough we saw the Air Ambulance circling and then landing and then other emergency service vehicles appearing by road.  A couple of hours went by before we were given another briefing, when we found out that several spectators had been hit, and the area was closed off as an investigation was taking place by the HSE and Police.  Fortunately (and importantly) we were told that none of the injuries were life-threatening, which was the only good news we’d had for a while.  We were told there would be a re-route of the event to avoid this area, and that the rally would re-start, but no time was known at this point.

We had lunch and sorted out issues with the spot lights we’d need for later (the last 2 stages were due to run in the dark), and then waited, chatted, went for a walk and eventually were told we’d re-start the event at 3:30.  We arrived for Stage 3 at 3:45, nearly 4 hours later than originally scheduled, and by this time it was dry.

What a difference being on the right tyres makes.  The launch off the line was now the violent shove that I was expecting, and the rest of the stage followed suit – the tyres got warmed up in a couple of corners, and then the braking was just as rough.  Ray kept it pretty tight for the most part, keeping clear of the kerbs and keeping it neat where possible, but the car is fast and it’s the kind of thing you’d need to experience to really understand.  There were a few little issues here and there, but for the most part it was a clean run, and far more like we’d expected, aside from a smell of rubber after we’d overshot a slippy corner and hit a cone.  The result was much better – 13th for the stage and much closer to the other cars, clawing back a fair bit of time that we’d lost in the other stages.  The other ‘result’ was that half the stage had been taken with a cone wedged into the wheel arch (on Ray’s side), which had eventually left us, but that was the smell of rubber explained!  The wheel arch had taken a fair bit of damage as a result, though….

 

Stage 4 was a re-run of the same layout, and saw a decent improvement of 15 seconds over the previous run, and 6th position for the stage, much more like it.  Smoothness pays off for sure.  Back in service, a few things were checked but the car was holding up OK, other than a bit more gaffa tape being needed to hold the wing together, as it was falling apart!

Stages 5 & 6 followed a similar pattern – a decent first run and a better second run, and we’d moved up the running order a bit.  The only issue on stage 5 was clipping a kerb on the inside of one of the turns with the back of the car – we felt a little ‘kick’ out and wondered if we’d have an issue, but fortunately the car kept going OK to the end of the stage.  Measurement back in service showed that the rear was a bit toed-in on that side, so it needed adjusting by Ed and Ash, who did a sterling job in very little time.  Stage 6 was a re-run of the same, and an improved time was had, with no kerb action either!

It was going well, and time to put the lights on as the last two stages of the (now shortened) event would be in the dark.  We put the lights on, and headed out to the arrival control, and on the way I asked where the map light was… and was told that there wasn’t one!  Oh dear.  It had been removed during some work on the car, and not replaced!  Most rallies are during the day, so it doesn’t make any difference, but this one wasn’t, and there was no way we could do anything without some sort of fixed light; even with a torch there would be no way I could hold that and navigate as it’s definitely a two-handed job in a car as quick as the quattro – it’s really easy to lose your place, and the constant banging around also means I’d need to re-place my headset mic several times a stage or Ray wouldn’t be able to hear.  Fortunately there was a short delay which gave us time to cobble up a torch cable-tied to the roll cage which just about did the trick.  By the time we started the stage it was pitch black, and quite a challenge – not only was this in the dark, it was also the first run of the stages being reversed; in the original plan we would have done two stages in the light with it reversed, but getting your bearings on a couple of the more tricky junctions in the dark meant a few seconds lost here and there, but overall it was pretty good – there were a few times we were blinded by the lights of cars heading towards us, and the lights were pretty poor meaning it was difficult to be totally committed (made worse by one of the lights packing up as soon as we started the stage!).  One issue, though, was that on the first lap we got a bit close to a building and a hay bale (I was expecting us to hit it), and on the next lap…. we saw a bumper in the road, which was ours!  We tried to avoid it, but later found out that we actually caught it but flicked it out of the road, so that was handy!

Back into service, we tried to get the bumper back but the stage was still live so it would have to wait (we had heard a marshal had retrieved it to safety), so off we went again, and as with the rest of the day it went better; smoother and more accurate and able to push in areas where we now knew where the junction would be, and a few seconds quicker than stage 7, and importantly we’d moved up a place overall as a result of a good time for us!

Looking at the results, we were 9th overall (Ray wanted to be in the top 10 at the end of the day), and 5th in class.  Aside from Stage 1, all the other times were top ten throughout the day, which was a good, consistent result.  A good day out, and a lot of fun.

Next week…. Rallye Sunseeker!

So, there has been some progress, first of which is that the Ibiza has an MOT!  Yes, all was well, the car is all good, and passed the MOT without any issue.  Which it should do, really, as after all, it’s a competition vehicle, but there’s always an element of doubt, particularly when it’s been such a long time.  Watching the front suspension being tested on the hydraulic sliding setup that the garage now have is quite an experience – one wheel is dragged from side to side to show up any play in the bushes, and the car looks like it’s moonwalking.

Anyway, on the way to and from the MOT, something became apparent that hadn’t shown up before, and that was that the car was getting hot.  It seemed OK when travelling at speed (I was taking it easy), but as soon as I slowed down, it got hot, and I had to be careful with heat management (speed and gears) to keep it at a sane temperature.  Clearly something was wrong, but running the car afterwards and leaving it meant it got to about 90 degrees or so and stayed there, although it didn’t cool down when the old trick of leaving the fan going with the engine stopped for a minute and then running it again was done – this usually works as the fans cool the water down that’s in the radiator and then it’s pumped into the engine and temperature drops a lot.

Clearly something was wrong, and a bit of searching on the ‘net showed that there seem to be a lot of people having problems with thermostats on the ABF engine, so it was time to replace that, and also the water pump as a precaution – I had to order the parts before dismantling so I got a pump anyway, and at £24 for the “high quality” one, it wasn’t such a bind.

What was a bind was the way the pump is attached to the engine.  Actually, that’s not true, it’s just four studs.  But the problem is that you have to remove the alternator, power steering pump and housing, and cambelt cover to get at the pump, so it’s a much bigger job.  The mounting for the power steering pump and alternator is one of those things that you know is a “production bodge” – it’s a big, ugly mis-shapen bracket that looks like it was an afterthought once the engine was pressed into service in a different setup than originally envisaged.

Anyway….once I’d finally got it out, replacing the pump was easy enough – just remove the old one’s bolts, clean up the gasket face and bolt into place.

The old pump, however, wasn’t in particularly bad shape – which was worrying.  All hope was now pinned on the thermostat, which should open up at 85 degrees to let the radiator cool things off.  I boiled the kettle, and put the water in a pan to keep it boiling and dropped the thermostat in – it should have sprung open.

Nothing!  Good news!  So, the new thermostat was put in, and everything put back together, which took about an hour as there was so much to put back in place!  The system was filled with water and bled as much as possible, and then the car run up to temperature, and the reward was a proper cooling system; so much so that when static the electric fan no longer kicks in, as the radiator cools enough at a standstill to keep the temperature below that point.

That’s the last thing I need to fix before Rallye Sunseeker.  There are a couple of other things to do (including wiring in the heated windscreen), but it’s looking good.  This is doubly good as on Saturday I’m navigating for Ray in his Quattro (I’ll see what I can get recorded for this, as his car is epic), so that’s a day that I won’t have to work on it… but all is looking good at the moment, way better than last year, so hopefully it’ll all hold together!

I’m not a fast driver, by any stretch of the imagination, but even I managed to give the Ibiza a fair thrashing on the Sunseeker – about half the stages are fairly slow, 2nd and 3rd gear stuff – and as soon as I did so, the engine was running hot, both oil and water temperatures.  The radiator’s lack of size was covered a fair while ago (it had a 1.4 radiator fitted!), and the large-capacity 2.0 radiator I found after a lot of searching fits well in the front panel, but has an issue – the water inlet and outlet are on the “wrong” side of the radiator for the plumbing the car did have.  This isn’t the end of the world, but needed addressing next.  Fortunately I’m friendly with the staff at the local Motorist’s Discount Centre, and they had a box of radiator hoses that they were happy to lend me so I could measure up.  What was really good was that there were hoses with the right bends and sizes to do the job!  5 hoses (£5!) later, all I needed was some tubing to make up the links between them, and £15 later on eBay I had them on their way to me.  The top one is steel (as it has a take-off for the header tank), and the bottom ones are aluminium, and I’m generally pretty pleased with how it has all gone together:

The hoses actually fit better than the originals, in terms of missing bits of the car – I don’t know where the originals came from (it wasn’t a 2.0 16v Ibiza!), but everything looks and fits better now.   Hopefully it will give enough cooling capacity to keep the car cool on the stages; certainly it will have more than it did before!

For a while I’ve been trying to get a pair of driveshafts made up – I sent the pair from the car (the one that broke on Sunseeker 2012, and the other one that was fitted at the time) to DRD Autograss to get them made up, but they eventually went quiet on me, not replying to any contact with them, which is a pain as I spent ages chasing them, and also sent them a pair of shafts and joints to ensure everything was made up accurately…. so, best avoided then; after a year of excuses and so on, just silence.

Moving on… with everything in the car, it was time to put the shafts and front suspension back in, so I grabbed the last pair of spares from the car’s spares package and tried them for size.  The nearside shaft fitted without issue – about 15mm of plunge at full suspension droop, so everything looked great.

The offside was a different story – it wasn’t possible to move the driveshaft in at all , and indeed it was under some pressure with the suspension fully dropped, which is definitely not right – as the suspension is compressed, the driveshaft length decreases, so this would clearly not work, putting (at best) immense strain on the joints and the diff.  So clearly the shaft I had quickly fitted to get the car home after the Sunseeker wasn’t right…. but what was?

A morning spent on the Internet scouring forums found some clues – fortunately a lot of people have fitted VW engines into the “wrong” cars, and as an aid to this people have measured the shaft lengths.  Stripping the shaft down to just the bare shaft showed that it was about 20mm too long!  The problem with ordering another one, though, was that parts manufacturers only give “fitted” lengths, not bare shaft ones, but some measuring up showed that the “right” shaft for the car was the “right” shaft for the car, so I bit the bullet and ordered one complete.  It arrived the next day and…fitted perfectly!  Same plunge as the other side, so the rest of it was just a case of bolting everything into place.  The short shaft was removed and had both inner and outer joint replaced, so it’s all good as new:

Here’s everything all nice and shiny, it’s a pity it won’t stay that way, but hey ho!