John Bloxham Memorial Rally 

30/11/2024

Sixty crews assembled just outside Bridgenorth for the final round of the 2024 HRCR Road Rally Championship. As I glanced around the other cars, it dawned on me that ours was the only one with road tyres, rather than M and;S, and the only one without a roll cage.

The event consisted of 6 Regularity sections, 8 tests on private land and a 40-mile Time Control section. Competitors were given navigation for some sections in advance, but the first regularity was a handout through the widow on the start line. Our day got off to a bad start. We missed a slot on the 3rd junction in this section. We recovered with a little lost time but our rhythm went out of the window as quickly as the route instructions had come in. Regularity 2 was pre-plotted. We got through with no dramas but still wrestling with the discipline of trip meter, speed and clock coordination.

Approaching the 1st test, I heard a change in engine note, glanced down at the oil pressure gauge and uttered a naughty expletive. A quick peek under to bonnet identified that the capillary tube had failed, leaving the under bonnet looking like a throwback to the Torry Canyon. We sealed the leak, grabbed the litre of oil from the boot and threw it into the rocker cover, by the time we’d thrown everything back in the car, there was enough oil to leave a 1/8th of an inch on the bottom of the dipstick. A quick conflab concluded that, despite the risk of damage, we’d continue. We steadily ran around the first test and then diverted off route to grab some oil at the nearest petrol station. It only took another 4 litres of Mobil’s finest to get the oil level back within the required range. By now, we were eating into our lateness and arrived at test 2 well out of order. As the countdown to the test reached 1, I built up the revs. At 0, I dropped the clutch, as the car lurched forward the throttle cable broke, and we came to a halt 25 yards from the control. A quick shove got us into a field where we set about replacing the cable. The good news was that a quick rummage in the boot produced a shiny new replacement. The bad news was that it was a little beggar to fit. With me grappling under the bonnet and Simon grovelling in the footwell in 45 second bursts, between cars screeching off the start line, it took about 20 minutes to fix. Once again, we exchanged a glance with the word “retire?” considered but unspoken. We recklessly bundled the tools in a pile in the boot (beside the empty oil cans) and blasted off. A max. on the test was only 3 minutes. But, balanced against the dark spectre of impending OTL.

Running last car on the road now, we completed another 2 tests and a regularity section before going into the lunch halt. Fortunately, OTL was extended by 15 minutes, which was enough time to grab a banana and sandwich but not enough for a cup of tea, before we were back on the road again. Road is a generous term for many of the whites and farm tracks we were using. I’ve never closely examined a bear’s bottom, but Simon suggested that was exactly how rough they were. The poor old MG took one heck of a beating. Two more tests followed on loose surfaced tracks through woodland. I pushed the old girl hard and took a good deal of pleasure overtaking an Astra GTE. I suspect they were exercising more mechanical sympathy than me. The car showed its distain for the abuse it was receiving by withdrawing its cooperation with the windscreen wipers for a short period. Fortunately, a massive crunch over a rock sent enough of a shock through the body that the wipers accepted their fate and started working again. As darkness fell, we stumbled around another regularity. Afterwards we queued on a link section where a Transit van driver was spending his evening dragging rally cars out of a significant flood. We stuttered through it with a small electrical cough on our way towards two more long, rough tests, peppered with splits and merges to catch the unwary out. We held our own but were still acutely conscious of our proximity to OTL. We were challenged by yet another regularity before heading for the final test. Once again, fate was against us. Despite gingerly passing through the ford for a second time, the car no longer wanted to play ball. The previous splutter turned into an abject refusal to function, leaving us stranded in the dark grappling, back in the boot again, for the precious can of WD40. At this point I discovered that the days persistent beating had taken its toll, as the bonnet stay had abandoned ship. Like a man possessed, with one hand holding the bonnet up in the dark, I emptied half a can in the general direction of electrical stuff before jumping back in. With everything crossed, the old girl fired up and got us to the test. The last test of the day combined the two previous tests to make a mammoth 4½ mile test.

Then came the highlight of the event, a 40 mile “TC” section over Brown Clee. It consisted of 13 time controls, mostly hidden in farmyards, using lanes, farm tracks and white roads, timed at 30 mph. The old MG was out paced and definitely vulnerable to OTL on this section. Despite being tired, Simon did a cracking job here. Confidently calling the road and identifying the many obscured farm entrances to prevent overshoots. I didn’t meet the same standards. An error of judgement led me to slide off a farm track into a slippery meadow on a 1 in 6 hill. Simon was bundled out on pushing duties and, by the skin of our teeth, we slithered back onto the track. Not without him getting covered in mud and managing to plonk a muddy size 10 onto his timecard making it virtually illegible. 15 yards down the hill David Mann was struggling alongside us. Sadly, he couldn’t to get his MGC out of the field and retired there, OTL. We arrived at the dinner halt ready for a rest and roast beef supper. It looked amazing and smelled incredible. Unfortunately, having it dangled before my eyes and under my nose, Simon pulled me away as we had no time to stop. We were straight back into the car for the final regularity. Of the points that day where retirement seemed on the cards, that was the closest. The last regularity was uneventful. Upon our return to the finish, we were delighted to be presented with a bottle of beer as a finisher’s award. It was a total surprise to find that our spirited dash over the mountain had lifted us from 34th to 18th overall, which we held onto through the last section. This was a really tough event for car and crew. 25 cars retired. We won the class and consolidated our class winning position in the championship. Though tired we had the combined feeling of achievement and relief. Concluding that, if it’s still got 4 wheels and moves, keep going, you never know where you’ll end up.