December 7 December 8
Training hard; longer runs; carbing up then gathering tools; checking medical supplies, thermals and snow shovel – the forecast is dire. Penzance bound, I jumped on a train and then taxied to Land’s End in time to get the car to late scrutineering with Ni
Arise early to the sound of whistling winds. Peering through the window I see giant Atlantic sea horses lashing Sennen Cove. Never have I watched BBC weather reports so intently. The UK is covered by snow symbols and severe weather warnings – mostly along our route.
Nick Cooper has a full day of training and car prep planned, so we start with the measured mile six times to ensure all his trip meters, timers and clocks are tuned in.
“Where are you, the paperwork is issued…” reads a text from HERO communications chief Haworth. Rushing back to Land’s End HQ there is now a fabulous line-up of historic rally cars with the craggy southerly tip of UK as their spectacular backdrop.
Nick has tried hard with ‘Regularity Rookie’ TJ today, but now he has five hours of route plotting, map marking and regs to go through. The hotel lounge is bursting at the seams with 60 navigators from around the world all at tables doing the same thing. Pencil cases, highlighters and rubbers strewn amongst the empty coffee pots; it resembles an A-level exam room for mature students.
I leave Nick to it and head out to the BMW, spending three hours in biting winds practicing wheel changes, fitting Camelbak water packs and packing the car with spare parts, snow shovels and food.
The worst job is laying out the snow chains, trying to work out how the spaghetti of chain links together, without wrapping themselves around the axle.
section, as the Minis in front can’t make the steep hill. We catch, or are caught, as all crews try to stay ‘on time’. Tomas de Vargas Machuca, in his 911, leads the way past the blockage to a control. We try to follow the flamboyant driver fish-tailing his 911 in a haze of snow dust; his navigator Ali Proctor misses the uphill left and we are through. Now on the tail of Mark Godfrey and Martyn Taylor’s MGB they glance the snow bank – then I do the same.
It was an epic long night’s rallying I will never forget. Poor Nick’s trip kept freezing, so he had to make all the time and speed calculations in his head. Huge respect. Our average speed is only around 29mph, but with next to no grip everyone has to use all their skills just to make it through.
By 0345hrs we are in Chester to try and grab some sleep. Wishful thinking. Morning brings lots more snow… and it’s still snowing. We have to dig to clear the car and push on to the first test. Entwistle is waiting, having bunked off work to advise the rookie and then watch. We don’t let him down, for once, but I still get disorientated, spinning out of one turn looking for the next marker.
The rest of the morning is an encounter with the Yorkshire Moors. Looking for all the world like an icy scene from Wuthering Heights, the roads are like glass. One control is blocked by a combination of German photographers and a stranded minibus. We thread through, then the 911 which was also blocked, both try to play catch up, slip slidin’ away, but the downhill sections prove difficult. Incredible adrenalinpumping stuff as you wait for the car to steer or stop drifting.
If the TC section in Wales was my highlight for total excitement, the next regularity past Ingleton and Ribblehead Viaduct was the scariest.
The section climbed up the side of a mountain and down the other. Some couldn’t get their cars to climb, but the sheet ice on the way down – with huge drops on the left – genuinely kept you cautious, as even cadenced braking couldn’t always slow the car. You feel you are losing control, but nobody did. As ever in rallying, experience counts and low average speeds help keep Historic and Classic car rallying safer.