Brake . . I said BRAKE!

Gavin and Ian 'playing' at Avon Park

Hmmm!

It's a strange life. Your calmly sitting on the start line of the first stage having made up your mind that "we're taking it easy", "we're just after a finish" when some fool bellows "GO!" in your ear and frightens you so much you completely forget that the tyres are cold, the brakes are cold, it's damp and of course that "we're taking it easy". And so - you're off - and 200 screaming, terrifying yards later when you stamp on the middle pedal, said cold brakes snatch, locking up the cold rears on the damp road and Fred's your Grandma, you're heading for the first chicane - backwards. Sound familiar ?

Easy solution - get a quieter navigator or surreptitiously disconnect the intercom when he's chatting up the (female) start marshals. If he's chatting up the male marshals - get a new navigator. You have to be very sure of who you are sitting alongside in a small car.

No such problems for 'us' this time though as I have drafted the quietly spoken but assertive Ian Harden into the seat. My fourth navigator in four events - can't understand this at all. I generally have a bath at least twice a year, clean socks, probably monthly and my underwear was all bought new. Maybe I need to phone a friend. Maybe I need a friend - offers on the back of a large cheque!

However, enough of your problems let's get back to tales of derring do - culminating of course in why we wus robbed.

And so to stage one of BDCC's ICM & Presto Print Stages which had been held over from March due to the Foot and Mouth problems - symptoms of which are of course well known to the author - but usually referred to in his case as Foot in Mouth. "We're taking it easy" - new brakes, new tyres, it's damp and it's cold. - you read it all half a page back. Seeded at No 70 - not bad since we didn't actually provide any seeding info we find ourselves sandwiched between two Peugeot something or other's. Everything was going well until the marshal suddenly raised his flag and the quietly spoken Mr Harden suddenly raised his voice in sympathy - oh h**l here we go.

However, by cunningly changing from first directly to fourth I foiled his evil plan to goad me into the first obstacle before I was ready. So: equilibrium restored we wiggled and woggled through the first chicane and on through the accursed 'bus stop' then up the hill. Turning in to the Figure of eight earlier than usual through the 'resurfaced' bit, bo*lo*ks, it's already dug out and my - new - tyres are getting scuffed and dirty. The new brakes - well new disks and pads - however are proving a delight to use. Instead of braking at the corner before the one you want to slow down for - pay attention at the back there - we are actually slowing down when I press the pedal. This of course leads to some embarrassing changing down and accelerating back at the approaching corner but you can't have everything. And they just got better. So I'm not telling you what they are - so there.

Stage two - a re-run of stage one was completed successfully - the only drama being when coming off the figure of eight the last time when the silly car went and lost it and as we headed for the bushes what do we see - a video camera wassock lurking behind two full rows of Bracken for protection. It must have been his connections above that pushed us round 'cos I wasn't helping much, I wasn't even holding the steering wheel at the time. Didn't there used to be advice around about people not standing on the outside of corners - even cameramen.

We were by now - in our unhumble opinion, doing quite well - we're 52nd and 13th in class (of 24) so we retire to the service area where our underworked and unpaid service crew are complaining that the noise from the Subaru WRC next door is keeping them awake. A quick word from Ian and the noise ceases allowing our poor souls (Colin's E & T) to slumber on gracelessly - comfy chairs guys.

Stages three and four begin to ring warning bells, or should have, about what would be in store later. We actually start catching people - it was a mistake honest - OK, I cannot tell a lie - it was Ian's fault. Some of the aforementioned - good word that it takes up a lot of space - moved over as soon as reasonable, thank you, others didn't - sod you lot. But we're still on the up 45th and 10th in class. Shall we go for it after lunch ? Do pigs eat swill ?

Stage three also brought the inevitable crisis - I broke a finger nail - not that I got a lot of sympathy from the service crew - just handed a pair of side cutters and told to "clean it up with these". How is a driver supposed to throw a tantrum when his service crew doesn't take him seriously. I was so taken aback I even forgot to throw them on the ground at the end of my spat.

After a nice long relaxing lunch - when the poor marshals were doubtless sweating their hearts out changing everything round, we trollied forth again to take on the might of - well, whoever had some - and the rot really set in. On stages five, six, seven and eight we caught a car every time at the turn off Watermain Road and had to follow them all the way up the hill and round the figure of eight to the split. Five and six didn't hurt us too badly - we still got up to 40th and 7th in class but seven and eight took care of that and down we went to 42nd but we still hung on to the 7th in class. Swines.

Doesn't matter, we had a great day, the rain held off, everything - except maybe the driver - worked OK and I will have words with at least some of the guilty parties - I know who you are. I may even tell the wife, then casually pass on your addresses, that'll fix it. Col E reckoned that my grin was getting wider every time I came in - it couldn't, my helmet's too tight but it was as wide as I could manage.

Thanks to Colin's E & T for providing the service - their hardest work all day was fixing the exhaust on Mark Cornwall/Gareth Bound's Fiesta. To Ian for risking life, limb and sanity - OK life and limb - and of course to the organisers, marshals, support teams, etc. without whom we wouldn't have been able to play at all.