Only a couple of weeks since Caerwent, and it's time to fix the problems and get sorted for our local event, the Horiba D'Isis Stages, run by Quinton Motor Club at the MIRA test facility. It's pretty much my local event so we always pop along for a play, as there's a good social aspect to the event with lots of local crews attending.
I set about fixing all the problems the weekend previously but suffice to say, come Friday afternoon, the car was still throwing me curve balls at every opportunity - knackered starter motor, dodgy alternator and a brand new external kill switch from Demon Tweeks that wasn't even the right one for the new ETA breaker 
. Coupled with all that, we started loading up Friday night only to find a puncture on the trailer.
So when we got to MIRA Saturday morning, we managed to fit a borrowed switch while queuing for scrutineering and we were all ready. Except I'd forgot my lucky hankerchief. Coupled with the preceeding weeks' worth of fun, I was honestly thinking if we managed it to the end of the day it'd be a bloody miracle
Big Dan is back in the navvie seat following successful employment seeking so it's off into stage 1 and... no intercom. Well, that just about figures. We resort to hand signals and excessive shouting, when needed. Despite our fumbling we manage 6th fastest on the stage, make it into service and swap the blown fuse responsible for our lack of audio. Phew, at least that was a simple one!
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| Pictures courtesy of and copyright Kev Money; used with permission | ||
We continue on through the day and to be honest there's very little drama or excitement to report. The weather is glorious, which means the tyres are chewing themselves up in no time and after four stages, our fronts are done and it's a trip to the tyre van for a new pair. The hairpins continue to frustrate me as a mix of sticky rear tyres and an ineffective handbrake (maybe down to the new rear discs) means we cannot get the tail round for them, so I give up on the showboating and start driving them instead. Boring as hell, but probably quicker anyway.
The new 3-way adjustable Reiger front suspension is the main focus of the day for testing. Andy Baker (AB Motorsport) has been consulting with a Prodrive chap all week on settings and things to try out, so we experiment for the first few stages, swapping bumpstops out and testing settings. The difference over the previous Bilsteins is night and day, of course, particularly on turn-in and over the jump at MIRA. We've purposely gone down to a standard ARB on the front, as opposed to a stiff one we used to run, and Prodrive chappy suspects we can probably disconnect it altogether with some careful tweaking of the shocks. Needless to say, after a cautious approach on SS1, we are attacking the jump in the upper reaches of 4th gear whereas previously it was more like high 3rd/low 4th, and the composure of the car upon landing is unbelievable. You just keep the foot planted and it soaks up the bump and lands you fully composed to just keep it nailed and planted. Brilliant stuff.
The day pans out and we jiggle back down to around 11th overall, trading times with cars the next class up, but eventually a few retirements move us up the leaderboard and we start to hover around the 9th overall position. Of more interest to me, however, is class position - and we're battling away with a Darrian T9 for honours. An early push by ourselves had built us up a buffer, but the Darrian of Eric Weaver is slowly catching us and it's looking like we'll lose class lead to him in the final couple of stages. Then disaster hits Weaver, a puncture on the penultimate stage costing him dearly and giving us another bite at the cherry in the final stage of the day.
We reverse out of the service pitch for the final stage, SS8, only to be stopped by the service crew - all with very concerned looks on their faces. A big puddle of gearbox oil sits under the car. With no forewarning, let alone any idea of what it is, the guys set about ripping the sump guard off and investigating. We have 15 minutes penalty-free lateness to use, should we need it, so provided it's nothing critical, we should be fine. The AB Motorsport guys work wonders, one pair investigating and fixing the leak while the other guys prepare to refill the box, and they double-time it in what must be 5 minutes or so. The speedo drive looks the culprit and is temporarily fixed, we're filled up and we get back out to stage arrival (choosing to run without the sump guard to save time) with time to spare.
With 1st in class hovering in the balance, I pull the stops out on SS10 and attack a lot harder. We take it easy over the jump, just in case the lack of sump guard causes us a problem. We clear the stage without any issue, and back in service it's anyones guess where we've finished. By our reckoning it's at least 2nd in class, if not 1st, so we pop along to the awards ceremony to find out.
Come class C, and the announcements go out - Eric in the Darrian gets 3rd in class, and Big Dan and myself pass a curious glance at one another. How did he loose THAT much time - there was a good 60+ seconds between 2nd and 3rd as far as we recalled from earlier in the day! Oh well, he must have had a really bad final stage, we figure. That means we must be in for 1st! So, it was a bit of a surprise when we were announced as 2nd in class, with 1st in class going to car 17 of Paul Bliss. A little bit bemused, but not wanting to show disappointment, we trot up and collect our pot with a nervous smile.
It's then the mutterings start between a few of us, and it soon becomes apparent that car 17 retired on the final stage... and wasn't in our class anyway! So, a small error on the final placings, but it soon became apparent that we had taken 1st in class, with the Darrian taking 2nd. It felt a rather muted celebration, truth be told there was only about 10 people left in the room when it was all cleared up 
but Big Dan and myself got outside and celebrated with some manly hugs and a firm handshake! Last year we got our first class position - 3rd in class - here at MIRA and that felt like a real milestone. Now, on the final event that this car would see before being rebuilt into a new shell, and after 9 years of rallying, we finally had managed a class win.
I got home, cracked open a tinny, and basked under the glorious sunshine beating down upon the car. The little Pug - which had been in a royal strop with me for the past two weeks - sat on the trailer, and as I think back, in my minds eye I'm fairly sure it was grinning. Now that was a good day's rallying.
