1st Forest Rally

Being slightly short-tongued can be a distinct disadvantage around Newtown, Powys. Pronouncing nearby places like Llangadfan and Llanidloes is quite a challenge. Ian Harden recently returned to the 'hot seat' of Ellya Gold's Peugeot 309 and they ventured to the land of druids and dragons to compete in their first forest event. Ellya is still cleaning the results of Ian's attempts at the local names off the inside of the windscreen.

Movements schedule. Road Book. Due time. Passage Control. With only four single venue rallies under my belt, this alternative language of multi venue events comes as a shock. From being the proverbial 'sack of spuds' at Longcross and Avon Park, forest events require much greater organisational capabilities from the person in the left hand seat.

"My dining room table disappeared under a tide of maps and assorted bits of paper."

The reasons for choosing the Mid Wales Stages as a debut in the woods were that the event has run successfully for several years, there is a centralised service area and the 'thrash to cash' factor is fairly good, i.e. 45 stage miles for £199. Once the entry was confirmed my dining room table disappeared under a tide of maps and assorted bits of paper.

An essential was a proper service barge, as the usual Nissan Primaeval tow car is not really man enough to cope with the extra equipment for a longer event. I soon discovered that light commercial hire vans with tow bars are as rare as rocking horse dung. One company offered me a flat bed tipper truck with tow bar, but the idea of turning up resembling a mob of 'Gippos' did not really appeal. I would have felt obliged to steal the lead from a church roof instead of doing the rally. The problem was solved by Colin Early's kind offer of the loan of his Transit van. Brian Price volunteered to drive.

Two weeks to go. I have run up a horrendous 'phone bill in an effort to find suitable Bed and Breakfast. Some crews book months in advance and there is nowhere vacant in Newtown when I try. Eventually I get the team into the Red Lion Hotel, Llanidloes, about twenty minutes drive from the start. At least we're in, and not too far away. I remain convinced that you can feel too 'remote' from a rally if you stay any real distance from the centre of activities.

Departure Day, Saturday 23 May. The team manages to meet as arranged in Weybridge and decamps in a westerly direction; Brian Price, Simon Thomas and myself in the van, Ellya and Michael Weeks in my Skoda estate.

"Near the village of Welcome To Wales ..."

Four hours later, near the village of Welcome To Wales (well, that's what it said on the sign) Simon's mobile 'phone rings. It's Michael, who announces that we've lost a wheel from the trailer but they've picked it out of a hedge. My main worry is whether a Skoda estate can catch a Transit van and rally car attached but Brian does the sensible thing and stops. He obviously had the same thought. Simon finds that the other wheel on the same side is ready to go 'walkies' at any moment. We all learn to check the condition of the trailer before departure next time.

Scrutineering is reached without further drama, and now I become aware of the different atmosphere that a forest event creates. A real 'the rally's in town' feeling. As we drive to signing on at the College Powys, children often wave or give us the 'thumbs up'. And we're only no.84 - what it must be like for the top crews I can only imagine. Brilliant stuff.

Sunday 24th.May. 6:15 a.m. I wake in a cold sweat. Did I really pack all the right maps? Have I briefed Brian correctly regarding the route to the service area? Will the car start when we want it to?

"The service crew eat vast quantities of bacon and eggs"

8:45 a.m. Breakfast. I take a sadistic delight in mashing my Weetabix into a particularly repulsive grey stodge and then shovelling it down with virtually no chewing. The service crew retaliate by stuffing vast quantities of bacon and eggs into themselves - which they know I couldn't face - and then talking about what they're going to have for lunch. Bastards.

All of a sudden, it's time to leave. The car starts perfectly. The crew have the correct maps and know the route to take. A leisurely run to Newtown, chat with a couple of fellow competitors, I check our due time at Main Control 1 - the start ramp - and re-calculate arrival time for the first stage. We depart at 12:19 p.m. Ha! problems? What problems?

Ellya's only comment was a rather shaky "That was fun"

Stage 1 - Llyn Coch. About twenty miles from Newtown, down a winding single track road. On the run out to the area, we come into Llanfair Cretin-something-or-other. The stage itself is easily identified by a large cloud of dust closely pursuing a rally car along a hillside. I book us in at the right minute and before we have time for nerves we've started the run. The overriding impression is of a huge noise. The engine hammers, stones rattle against the underside and the bigger rocks slam against the sump guard with an awesome thump. We climb onto open moorland and pass an Escort Cosworth parked on the outside of a blind bend. I note the spot in case he's still there for stage 4. The finish is after a watersplash into a tight right hander. As the world slows to normal pace again, there is an eerie silence in the car. Ellya's only comment, a rather shaky "That was fun". Bloody right it was.

Stage 2 - Dyfnant 1. Shorter than the previous stage, the track winds between some extremely solid looking trees. We are noticeably quicker as Ellya gets the hang of the different driving style. I manage to guide him using a combination of the road book and stage diagram. Past two more cars in ditches. We set a time of about eight and a half minutes. Then less than half a mile up the track is:-

Stage 3 - Dyfnant 2. I note that the start marshal is standing well away from the cars. He obviously knows something we don't. We hang back from the previous competitor and with good reason. The clutch drops and the startline radio car, a Volvo estate, gets pebble dashed. We fly round a smooth left hander at Junction 3 straight onto what feels like a lorry load of half bricks dumped in the middle of the track. The Forestry Commission have regraded the course and I wait for the multiple punctures that we must surely sustain. Miraculously we clear the hazard but the rest of the stage is cutting up quite badly. Also lots of logs to dodge. One spectator enthusiastically waves us on, and I remember Richard Phillipson's tale of decoys for camera crews who are there to film crashes. Fortunately Ellya has heard the same story and is careful round the next couple of bends.

Service - Ffridd Completely-unpronounceable. Simon waves us in to our allotted place. He's bright yellow with dust. After two cars go past I understand why. Each kicks up a cloud of dirt that hangs in the air. The crew tighten up everything that they can while Ellya drinks pints of water and I pay a visit to the bushes. I contemplate the difficulties that lady competitors must experience in this respect, and later suggest to the organisers that a few Portaloos would not go amiss. We book out exactly on time. Well done, chaps.

"Warning. Stage very rough in places"

Fourth stage - Llyn Coch 2. A sign at stage arrival announces 'Warning. Stage very rough in places'. This proves to be an understatement. I get the impression that Ellya's having trouble keeping control as the car kicks and rears over the bumps. In the back of beyond near Junction 10 we hit a breezeblock sized rock in a rut. There is an awful scraping noise that gets worse. Ellya stops to inspect the damage - nothing is visibly amiss, the car doesn't feel right at all.

"Then the jack jams in the 'up' position"

On the next road section we trace part of the trouble to a rear puncture. Then the jack jams in the 'up' position, so Ellya drives the Peugeot backwards off it. At least we're still in the running but the pressure's now on to keep to time.

"By running past a line of waiting cars I book in on time - just."

Stage 5 - Dyfnant 3. Straight repeat of the second stage. By running past a line of waiting cars I book in on time - just. Thank God for sixty seconds in each minute. The attrition rate amongst our rivals is going up steadily. An MGB from the Historic rally is deep in a ditch and as I can't easily see his 'OK' board, tell the finish marshals where he has come to rest. We start to contemplate a reasonable finishing position.

Sixth stage - Dyfnant 4. And then there was one (stage left, that is). My abiding memory is of the gates in this part of the forest, all very solid looking and with the potential for causing bodywork mayhem. We negotiate the pile of half bricks at Junction 3 very slowly, and for the first time I notice the large drop on the outside of Junction 5, something you definitely don't see at Goodwood. Ellya drives the rest of the section extremely quickly and announces he's pleased with his effort. All we have to do now is the 25 miles back to Newtown, in convoy with seven Mk.2 Escorts who all have to play a constant game of 'dodge the dawdling tractor' to keep to time. As we cross the finish ramp I feel more tired than I've ever felt in my life, but there's still the results to check. Eventually we finish 78th from 145 starters, a reasonable result for first timers.

My thanks go to the marshals and organisers for a very well-run event, and to Brian, Simon and Michael for waving the spanners in the right direction. But mostly to Ellya for pressing the pedals and turning the wheel in the correct order to keep us safely on the tracks.