Rallying is fun because there is a story going on behind it
Last year: a win.
This year: out.
Last year there was a stretch when the cancer diagnosis put rallying out of the question.
The organiser kindly said “come and drive, it will take your mind off it”, and let me in after entries had closed. But when I do a thing, I do it properly.
And I won.
So this time I went in fully intent on making it two in a row.
It started in Tokyo, so a lot of friends came to see us off, and we set out in a good mood.
And then, ten-odd kilometres on, a sharp crack on the motorway.
A classic car is old, and anything can happen — you drive with all five senses sharpened for a sound or a smell.
The throttle cable snapped
This was a short single-day rally, and I had been careless about bringing tools — a serious lapse.
I had nothing that would join a throttle cable.
Four hours of wrestling with it. And then a god descended.
We got a lift and rushed off to a car accessory shop —
and there was no such convenient thing, so it was a builders’ merchant (a wholesaler, which does not normally sell to the public) and a direct appeal. Bolt acquired.
Beyond not giving up
In the pouring rain it would have been easy to call the JAF, have the car taken away and retire — but soaked through, we used our heads and fought it out,
a miraculous helper appeared, we could go and get the part,
and although we missed the competition and were classified as retired, what was waiting at the finish after the repair was applause and a large present honouring last year’s win.
A finish more moving than any result. The spring 2022 event was, from the heart, the best rally there could have been.
