1998 Marathon Paris to Morocco
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1998 Marathon Paris to Morocco
Keith's memories of the tests on the 1998 Dash to Marrakesh
Dash to Marrakech and a little of the away back. From Keith Clements.
Some of you have seen bits of the film at the A.G.M., so here is the start of the book. The film is available for hire from the club.
I intend to recount the tale in no particular order over a few episodes. Amy had intended writing her account in fresher’s week when she returned to Uni. but the dreaded polluted water made her sick for a couple of weeks. My dose ruined my enjoyment of the holiday with Jenny, Moises and Meli on the return through Spain and Portugal as well as most of the social life during the event in Morocco. The overall and class results.
We finished 38th overall out of 67 that finished and 10 that did not. There were also 13 pre-war cars that were not in the general classification.
We were in the historic sports car class (pre-65 and up to 1650 cc) and came 7th. There were 4 MGAs and 3 Porsche 356s in the class. The winners ( John Buffum and Neil Wilson) drove a 1964 Porsche. The Stretton/Rood MGA finished one place and 13m36s ahead.
I received a cup as an Ancient Marathoneer along with Willy Cave. I do not know if it was a hint to stop while we were ahead or as recognition of the Classic Marathons we have done. But at least I got a pot! Regularity Test results.
The first test was a baptism of fire for Amy. The Halda distance-measuring device failed just before the start. Luckily it was simple to fix, but it adds to the panic. Two kilometers into the test and a sensation like a front puncture lost 4 minutes while I discovered the front suspension lower trunnion had popped out of its location in the chassis. Driving with little steering or brakes we overtook the 3 cars that had passed us and slid into the time control late by 18 seconds. Some of the overtaken maneuvers on the single-track gravel road were not intentional but caused by lack of braking! Horn and lights sufficed to push a big Rover, with mother-in-law sitting in the back, out of the way.
Some hard standing just after the finish allowed me to examine the damage. Amy stopped every car and asked if they had a big bolt. The 6 inch bolt had sheared but not dropped out. A local (French) farmer took it home and welded it up. The rally service crew arrived and we decided to get to the main control at the end of the day where the sheared bit in the trunnion could be removed more easily. The wishbone was chained into position while we drove in the dark for 30k. Amy went to find the hotel while we struggled to drill out the stud in situ. After two stud removers broke, we decide to try to remove the wishbone. Yes, it can be done with engine in place but you have to take off the clutch pedals and rod and expend a lot of energy and expletives. At midnight, having drained the drill batteries and unable to get the thread clean to accept the bolt, we were close to giving up, when a man and a dog offered in sign language to help. Off went Tony from the service crew with the wishbone and trunnions. One hour later he returned with a newly tapped metric hole and bolt repaired by this French ex-Paris/Dakar mechanic. We were not finished, as it is not at all easy replacing the torsion bar with the engine in place. Six tired hands and three very tired brains achieved it. Amy had somehow relayed some instructions to me on how to find the hotel that was across the other side of town. I somehow recalled them and crawled into bed for a couple of hours of sleep. Up before dawn for a spanner check and then a 200k drive to the first time control. Welcome to rallying, daughter! All that and we only lost 18 seconds on the day.
Amy was now determined to make up for it. With good navigation, team-work and my experience of pacing the car we were joint first on the next 8 tests and did not receive any penalties.
The tenth test, called Timlaine, on the edge of the Sahara and Atlas Mountains was a long steep twisting climb. We dropped 15 seconds but remarkably came 6th. Josephine Jupiter was really singing sweetly.
The eleventh test, on the main road from Ouarzazate to Marrakech, was a 5 part regularity. We cleaned four of the stages but were stuck behind a lorry and coach on one, only overtaking them 200m before the time control. Amy did well to calculate the error and get us into the next control on time. Another 18 seconds lost to penalties.
We were joint first again on the next test. On the final test (13) at Tichka Moyen Atlas we lost another 18 secs. I do not remember why, although I do know overdrive had gone because of some kind youths that took great pleasure in putting a boulder on a yump. Luckily I had fitted a sump guard which took the main force and shattered the bolder. However, fragments flattened the exhaust and two chassis tubes a bit, cracked the exhaust manifold and caused a short in the electrics that operated the overdrive and temperature gauges. I have looked at Amy’s notes during the test and, as far as I can see, we were on time. Perhaps Amy should have queried it, but she was well tired, and so were the marshals, and it would not have altered the result. She did manage to have three queries upheld and one denied though, her legal phrasing paying dividends.
So what does this mean. We came 9th overall on the tests. Some result for a novice navigator.
The special road sections.
The first at TCS 13 (120k from Tangier) was cancelled because many people stopped to help an accident involving and Aston and a local Mercedes that had ignored the marshal’s suggestion and driven against the rally traffic. It was a very tortuous gravel road with little to prevent you from taking the quick way down. Luckily the cars hit head on and did not take a glancing blow. Even so, it was a great stage that taxed the car, driver and nerves of the co-pilot. The brakes started to fail so I had to slow down (a bit). I must find out whether it was the linings, the silicone fluid, the ambient temperature or the unventilated wheels. I will have to go back and do it again. From memory I think we were about 20 seconds down, but I do not know what position we would have come. That was Amy’s first special stage! How she held together I do not know. We all drive knowing the road is not closed and this was the only collision apart from a Daimler that scraped a side of a lorry.
On the next stage (TCS14) we lost 37 seconds over 17k and came 31st. Once again the brakes needed coaxing to work. Then at TCS16 we lost 4m3s over 19k and was 25th and at TCS 18 was 34th with 5m10s of penalties over 24k. Frightening roads with lots of work for the co-driver on the horn characterised these stages. The front wheel was put in the gullies at the side of the road to assist cornering as the cars in front had covered the road in marbles of gravel. Plenty of stone throwing youths through this hash growing area claimed bodywork, windows and worst of all the head of Tom Noor in his Mercedes. It is a shame that such brilliant roads have these dangers. The next day we threw sweets at them so they scrabbled for them rather than attack us.
TCS 23 was the desert stage where I lost 4m45sec probably because it took me some time to realise that the faster you go across the rough desert piste the smoother it is. The danger is that when you are flying you do not know where you are going to land. With pot-holes you could sleep in and ridges that send you into orbit, more than four cars ran out of luck and left their exhausts or suspensions in the desert. Navigation was also difficult with lots of dust and nothing more than bushes to recognise as turning points. The stage was postponed from the previous day because of a sandstorm that also stranded Moises and Meli Escola overnight in the Café de Sud on the edge of the desert. More of them later.
TCS 28 was the very rough 44k piste. The organisers set an easy time but it still took it out on you and the car. 13 cars failed to finish (or probably attempt this stage). We completed the section with 15 minutes to spare and time to empty and fill. Also it allowed us to clean the windscreen that was muddy after splashing through the wadis that had filled during the storm the previous day. Good to do now as these pistes are rapidly being tarmacked. The rough roads did not help the many that were now suffering from the Ifrane adulterated bottled water.
The last competitive stage of the rally was TCS 35 through the Foret de Cedres, 21k of tarmac and gravel left by the preceding cars. There were a couple of drivers who lost it. We past a Cortina that had just extradited itself from the rock wall. I was missing the overdrive that gave me extra speed out of corners. The video shows us sliding around a corner, the commentary deriding the Jup’s handling. Well, I had seen the camera and, anyway, we only lost 25 seconds and came 14th on that stage. But I will check the suspension out as it was a bit skittish. Amy did well, telling me how far I was down every k, sounding the horn and acting as co-driver on the right handers. No chance of calling bends with Moroccan maps! That was the most enjoyable stage but the experience vote must go to TCS 23 or 28. ------
Some of you have seen bits of the film at the A.G.M., so here is the start of the book. The film is available for hire from the club.
I intend to recount the tale in no particular order over a few episodes. Amy had intended writing her account in fresher’s week when she returned to Uni. but the dreaded polluted water made her sick for a couple of weeks. My dose ruined my enjoyment of the holiday with Jenny, Moises and Meli on the return through Spain and Portugal as well as most of the social life during the event in Morocco. The overall and class results.
We finished 38th overall out of 67 that finished and 10 that did not. There were also 13 pre-war cars that were not in the general classification.
We were in the historic sports car class (pre-65 and up to 1650 cc) and came 7th. There were 4 MGAs and 3 Porsche 356s in the class. The winners ( John Buffum and Neil Wilson) drove a 1964 Porsche. The Stretton/Rood MGA finished one place and 13m36s ahead.
I received a cup as an Ancient Marathoneer along with Willy Cave. I do not know if it was a hint to stop while we were ahead or as recognition of the Classic Marathons we have done. But at least I got a pot! Regularity Test results.
The first test was a baptism of fire for Amy. The Halda distance-measuring device failed just before the start. Luckily it was simple to fix, but it adds to the panic. Two kilometers into the test and a sensation like a front puncture lost 4 minutes while I discovered the front suspension lower trunnion had popped out of its location in the chassis. Driving with little steering or brakes we overtook the 3 cars that had passed us and slid into the time control late by 18 seconds. Some of the overtaken maneuvers on the single-track gravel road were not intentional but caused by lack of braking! Horn and lights sufficed to push a big Rover, with mother-in-law sitting in the back, out of the way.
Some hard standing just after the finish allowed me to examine the damage. Amy stopped every car and asked if they had a big bolt. The 6 inch bolt had sheared but not dropped out. A local (French) farmer took it home and welded it up. The rally service crew arrived and we decided to get to the main control at the end of the day where the sheared bit in the trunnion could be removed more easily. The wishbone was chained into position while we drove in the dark for 30k. Amy went to find the hotel while we struggled to drill out the stud in situ. After two stud removers broke, we decide to try to remove the wishbone. Yes, it can be done with engine in place but you have to take off the clutch pedals and rod and expend a lot of energy and expletives. At midnight, having drained the drill batteries and unable to get the thread clean to accept the bolt, we were close to giving up, when a man and a dog offered in sign language to help. Off went Tony from the service crew with the wishbone and trunnions. One hour later he returned with a newly tapped metric hole and bolt repaired by this French ex-Paris/Dakar mechanic. We were not finished, as it is not at all easy replacing the torsion bar with the engine in place. Six tired hands and three very tired brains achieved it. Amy had somehow relayed some instructions to me on how to find the hotel that was across the other side of town. I somehow recalled them and crawled into bed for a couple of hours of sleep. Up before dawn for a spanner check and then a 200k drive to the first time control. Welcome to rallying, daughter! All that and we only lost 18 seconds on the day.
Amy was now determined to make up for it. With good navigation, team-work and my experience of pacing the car we were joint first on the next 8 tests and did not receive any penalties.
The tenth test, called Timlaine, on the edge of the Sahara and Atlas Mountains was a long steep twisting climb. We dropped 15 seconds but remarkably came 6th. Josephine Jupiter was really singing sweetly.
The eleventh test, on the main road from Ouarzazate to Marrakech, was a 5 part regularity. We cleaned four of the stages but were stuck behind a lorry and coach on one, only overtaking them 200m before the time control. Amy did well to calculate the error and get us into the next control on time. Another 18 seconds lost to penalties.
We were joint first again on the next test. On the final test (13) at Tichka Moyen Atlas we lost another 18 secs. I do not remember why, although I do know overdrive had gone because of some kind youths that took great pleasure in putting a boulder on a yump. Luckily I had fitted a sump guard which took the main force and shattered the bolder. However, fragments flattened the exhaust and two chassis tubes a bit, cracked the exhaust manifold and caused a short in the electrics that operated the overdrive and temperature gauges. I have looked at Amy’s notes during the test and, as far as I can see, we were on time. Perhaps Amy should have queried it, but she was well tired, and so were the marshals, and it would not have altered the result. She did manage to have three queries upheld and one denied though, her legal phrasing paying dividends.
So what does this mean. We came 9th overall on the tests. Some result for a novice navigator.
The special road sections.
The first at TCS 13 (120k from Tangier) was cancelled because many people stopped to help an accident involving and Aston and a local Mercedes that had ignored the marshal’s suggestion and driven against the rally traffic. It was a very tortuous gravel road with little to prevent you from taking the quick way down. Luckily the cars hit head on and did not take a glancing blow. Even so, it was a great stage that taxed the car, driver and nerves of the co-pilot. The brakes started to fail so I had to slow down (a bit). I must find out whether it was the linings, the silicone fluid, the ambient temperature or the unventilated wheels. I will have to go back and do it again. From memory I think we were about 20 seconds down, but I do not know what position we would have come. That was Amy’s first special stage! How she held together I do not know. We all drive knowing the road is not closed and this was the only collision apart from a Daimler that scraped a side of a lorry.
On the next stage (TCS14) we lost 37 seconds over 17k and came 31st. Once again the brakes needed coaxing to work. Then at TCS16 we lost 4m3s over 19k and was 25th and at TCS 18 was 34th with 5m10s of penalties over 24k. Frightening roads with lots of work for the co-driver on the horn characterised these stages. The front wheel was put in the gullies at the side of the road to assist cornering as the cars in front had covered the road in marbles of gravel. Plenty of stone throwing youths through this hash growing area claimed bodywork, windows and worst of all the head of Tom Noor in his Mercedes. It is a shame that such brilliant roads have these dangers. The next day we threw sweets at them so they scrabbled for them rather than attack us.
TCS 23 was the desert stage where I lost 4m45sec probably because it took me some time to realise that the faster you go across the rough desert piste the smoother it is. The danger is that when you are flying you do not know where you are going to land. With pot-holes you could sleep in and ridges that send you into orbit, more than four cars ran out of luck and left their exhausts or suspensions in the desert. Navigation was also difficult with lots of dust and nothing more than bushes to recognise as turning points. The stage was postponed from the previous day because of a sandstorm that also stranded Moises and Meli Escola overnight in the Café de Sud on the edge of the desert. More of them later.
TCS 28 was the very rough 44k piste. The organisers set an easy time but it still took it out on you and the car. 13 cars failed to finish (or probably attempt this stage). We completed the section with 15 minutes to spare and time to empty and fill. Also it allowed us to clean the windscreen that was muddy after splashing through the wadis that had filled during the storm the previous day. Good to do now as these pistes are rapidly being tarmacked. The rough roads did not help the many that were now suffering from the Ifrane adulterated bottled water.
The last competitive stage of the rally was TCS 35 through the Foret de Cedres, 21k of tarmac and gravel left by the preceding cars. There were a couple of drivers who lost it. We past a Cortina that had just extradited itself from the rock wall. I was missing the overdrive that gave me extra speed out of corners. The video shows us sliding around a corner, the commentary deriding the Jup’s handling. Well, I had seen the camera and, anyway, we only lost 25 seconds and came 14th on that stage. But I will check the suspension out as it was a bit skittish. Amy did well, telling me how far I was down every k, sounding the horn and acting as co-driver on the right handers. No chance of calling bends with Moroccan maps! That was the most enjoyable stage but the experience vote must go to TCS 23 or 28. ------
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Memories of the road sections
Part 2.
In last months episode I wrote of the overall results, the regularity tests and the special road sections. This time I recall the road sections that particularly test navigation skills in countries with different ways of sign-posting and map drawing.
The Road Sections.
Essentially you have to go from a time control to another time control within a set time, not arriving early or late and perhaps passing through other places called passage controls. Amy spent many days plotting the route from instructions in the road book. Christine Gray, whom I helped before her first Monty, gave Amy a few essential tips when we had dinner with them a couple of weeks before the start. Amy soaked up some of my experience and added some of hers to produce an annotated map and road book.
Essential too is organising the office that the navigator will sit in for two weeks. Seat, seat belts, Speed Pilot, Halda Twinmaster, maps, road book, speed tables, pencils, lights, the ‘potty’ magnifier, fire extinguisher, first aid kit and, most needed by Amy, access to food have to all be arranged. You have to be able to find it, not loose it when jumping out to press the time clock, and they have to stay in place during hard cornering.
I will save the rest of car preparation till a later episode. I digressed to give some feel for the extra put into navigating on a rally. The navigator is the organiser. She must know where, when, how far and how difficult a section is. She must calculate when and where petrol or maintenance can be done, often by guessing likely easy sections or garage locations. She may even decide when to eat, sleep or toilet.
Not every section will be tight, but it can become so because of an unscheduled stop for repairs, pictures, socialising or food. The main problem is concentrating for hours on end, or at least knowing when to concentrate and when to relax. Problems often occur when you are most relaxed. It is always good to have a rough plan and a contingency plan. You should also revise them both as a section or day progresses.
That’s the theory anyway. Of course, it doesn’t always go to plan.
Day S minus 2
Just about prepared but we could not find Biggles, only his kilt and hat. Biggles was given to us before the first Marathon and has accompanied me on all rallies since. Was this an omen?
Day S minus 1.
The plan was to get up early to catch the ferry at Dover at 8.30. Amy was to drive to get the feel. Plan B was put into affect so Amy could sleep. She had been partying or having late nights all week. No problem, we made it and joined Chris and Nigel Gray in their ex-works VX 4-90 for the ferry trip and drive to Versailles. I had decided to take the coast route to Rouen rather than risk Paris in the rush hour. I am glad we did. The Vauxhall’s dynamo terminal broke on the way so the Jowett spares kit came to the rescue. At the time they were in our class as well. What sportsmanship! Amy had woken up and drove the four hours from Calais to the scrutineering at Versailles palace. I spent the time attempting to calibrate the Halda Twinmaster and Speed Pilot. I became quite distressed, as it would not reach perfection. As the rally progressed it became evident that distances were not that important. Amy tended to use maps and instructions rather than the given distances. I had calibrated the Twinmaster on a measured K from the pub door, along a straight road to a turning in my village. I had given up doing it on the A41, the M1 and the M25 as they all gave me different readings. A 1 to 50000 map was analysed for such a convenient road.
Back to scrutineering. The first job was to find it, and the hotel. French towns, French rush hour traffic, torrents of rain and a map with a label over the important street added half an hour to our expected due time. Then we found scrutineering had moved time and place since the final instructions. A visit to rally HQ pointed us down the street. Amy filled in the forms at signing on while I discussed with Philip Young, the rally organiser, which class I should be in. Since others might realise the Jup did not look like a saloon, I thought it best to be in the sports car class. Peter Banham, the scrutineer, made a cursory inspection since the car was well known in competition. Six failed. We then parked up and started drinking. The Nankivells, Speros and Jacobs were there to greet us. We had a good meal after walking a K in the rain and then dragged ourselves back to a much-needed bed.
Day 1.
Showers still threatened but we wanted to run with the hood down since the Jup is not too pretty with the hood over the roll-over bar. As soon as it went down, it rained, so the modified hood frame went up again and stayed that way for the whole of the first day.
Amy was worried about navigating out of the car park. That was achieved, but panic struck as she was lost after a couple of bends. My sense of direction made a lucky guess and we were on our way.
It was an easy 250k drive to a surprisingly good lunch at Chopin’s mistress’s ex-residence at St Chartier. A few minor repairs, such as squeaks and leaks, were fixed on the way. Another 220k drive, with a brief stop at a bar with some classic cars and bikes at la Serre, finished with us following a Bentley through some twisting Dordogne lanes. That led into the fateful first test at Fontagnes before bedding down (2 hours for me) in the passage control at Aurillac. We would have lost more penalties if Aurillac had been a Time Control. A double bonus was that Amy had booked a bed in this town rather than finding one closer to the next TC. This meant the service crew was on hand to help with the front trunnion.
Day 2
The early morning drive through the misty wooded hillsides was very enjoyable, especially as I had not expected to be doing it 8 hours earlier. Into Requista and TC4, a regularity test (M.R.S.2), the 1000m. Col de Sie and Col de Piquotalen and lunch in the restored city of Carcassonne. The Escola family were there but we did not see them. Then another 5 Cols, each one a 100m.higher before rising to 2407m. into Andorra. One Col was M.R.S.3 where we picked up 10 minutes penalty erroneously. Amy put in a query and had the entire penalty removed. The marshall’s check sheets proved the error. Well spotted Amy. The traffic jam into Andorra for petrol went on for miles. I am sure it cannot be cost effective to waste so much time and effort climbing so high for a tank-full.
The highlight of the day was a regularity where there was no penalty for arriving early. Well spotted Amy! The winners of the rally did not. In essence you enjoyed it as a hill-climb and the Jup certainly did. The suspension was set up well for the climbs so reminiscent of the Dolomites. Overdrive was useful for keeping power at its peek on the straight climbs, even overdrive second helped out of some corners. Those Suzuki Jeep wheels with new centres by Mike Crossman (with whom I did a bit of a Monte) kept more of the tread on the road. They had been made as I had lost faith in the old Dunlop Jup or Javelin wheels taking the punishment. Most of the ones used previously have cracked around the holes or chrome cap fixings. The video has some great sound as the Jup powers around the last bend and ejects Amy towards the timeclock at the finish. We came in 33 seconds early and 25th fastest, not bad for the oldest car on the run. If only the car had been set up like this on those first Marathons, I was thinking!
Then into Andorra city with its spaghetti of roads, a brief chat with the Escolas before a good night’s sleep.
Day 3.
Early morning and an interested Philip Young chatted for some valuable minutes commenting on our Kingpin tyres that I said were brilliant. I broke my driving glasses, but the back-up pair was found. I am not at my best before sunrise. 250K of fast, almost traffic-free, roads took us to TC6 at Calanda.
We had just been through Lerida then Fraga and stopped at some lights before turning into the country. A few rally cars were in convoy and inexplicably going slow. A couple in the convoy grew impatient only to be booked for speeding along with a dozen others. The reason for our slowness was the service crew had back-tracked and warned the first in the pack. Thanks guys! It saved us each £150 fines. They collected £5000 for the police ball that day. I must say most rally cars observe speed limits most of the time. This was just a very good place to put a trap.
Just after that the road became rough. Probably not because of that but we had a puncture. Amy was asked to check on our time as well as helping change the wheel. I was worried as the road was bad although it was an A road on the map. We had also had to wait while a flock of sheep crossed a long bridge and had stopped for petrol after the speeding incident. Although we made the next TC there was not quite enough time to get the puncture fixed at a nearby garage in Calanda. Luckily the marshal was no other than Peter Banham, one of the service crew. He gladly took the wheel with my spare tube to fix. We caught up with him much later in the day with the repaired wheel. His beside-the-road repair with a couple of tyre levers amazed the locals who gave him a box of peaches. Moises, by chance, was at the lunchtime control at Ademuz and took the tube for repair to return it at the next night halt.
Then followed M.R.S.6 before the spectacular drive into the gorge at Alcala Del Jucar for tea time. This gorge has houses built into the rock 100m. up in the cliff. Amy then drove much of the long drive through nearly 300k of olive groves into Ubeda. One small problem arose. The rear hub was working loose. I made the washer thicker with wire and this cured it. A total of 921k that day.
Day 4.
Amy had calculated when to get up in order to make the first time control 229k away at 10.30 +51 minutes, which we achieved at 7.30. An easy breakfast and a much too long a chat, we left at 8.30. The 229k on red A roads initially looked achievable at 80k/hr but it proved not to be. First we took 15 minutes to get to the start because our hotel was in the centre of town. This too, meant we were 30 minutes later to bed than the Rally HQ residents. Motto try to stay in HQ. We had asked but had no choice.
The first 100k was fast and we kept on time. But then we turned left at a T to Alcaudete. I asked Amy if it was correct as for some reason my 6th sense thought it was wrong. I had not looked at the map, leaving Amy the responsibility. After 10k she realised her mistake, so we had to backtrack. Now the pace was getting difficult to keep up. Next we hit the town of Priego de Cordoba. The narrative had warned us about finding the correct way out. We managed it after much deliberation; unlike a lot, including the rally winner, who were lost for a long time. They had a fast Porsche and were able to catch up, the venerable Jupiter was now being driven at its limit. The 26k of twisting road was not allowing me to pull back time. The next decision was to get petrol or not. We managed a quick stop of 3 minutes although in retrospect we perhaps could have done without as there was some at the next TC. 27k of motorway allowed the Jup to be driven flat out with a following wind. I was really worried the damage it would do to the engine which was pulling top revs in overdrive (over ?!*mph just in case those Spanish police read this). I was also worried the Kingpins might explode, but I need not have. Had they been tested for continuous driving at that speed? The motorway finished and we then had 30k of A road to the control at Campillos. We arrived 9 minutes late ejecting Amy, who was already running before the car stopped, towards the time clock and, unknown to me, also picked up 15 minutes extra for being late. That extra penalty must have been an amendment. Disaster.
In that one stage was a demonstration of most of the art of road section navigation (and co-navigating). Amy learnt a lot. I hope! All the above have happened to me over the years but this time it came in threes. What was even more galling was that was the only TC of the day. There was a test that we cleaned and then an educational drive by Amy down to the ferry at Algeciras after a lunch stop high in the mountains. Amy had started to learn the mountain driving technique for a Jupiter.
Next part is Africa.
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Memories of the road sections
Part 2.
In last months episode I wrote of the overall results, the regularity tests and the special road sections. This time I recall the road sections that particularly test navigation skills in countries with different ways of sign-posting and map drawing.
The Road Sections.
Essentially you have to go from a time control to another time control within a set time, not arriving early or late and perhaps passing through other places called passage controls. Amy spent many days plotting the route from instructions in the road book. Christine Gray, whom I helped before her first Monty, gave Amy a few essential tips when we had dinner with them a couple of weeks before the start. Amy soaked up some of my experience and added some of hers to produce an annotated map and road book.
Essential too is organising the office that the navigator will sit in for two weeks. Seat, seat belts, Speed Pilot, Halda Twinmaster, maps, road book, speed tables, pencils, lights, the ‘potty’ magnifier, fire extinguisher, first aid kit and, most needed by Amy, access to food have to all be arranged. You have to be able to find it, not loose it when jumping out to press the time clock, and they have to stay in place during hard cornering.
I will save the rest of car preparation till a later episode. I digressed to give some feel for the extra put into navigating on a rally. The navigator is the organiser. She must know where, when, how far and how difficult a section is. She must calculate when and where petrol or maintenance can be done, often by guessing likely easy sections or garage locations. She may even decide when to eat, sleep or toilet.
Not every section will be tight, but it can become so because of an unscheduled stop for repairs, pictures, socialising or food. The main problem is concentrating for hours on end, or at least knowing when to concentrate and when to relax. Problems often occur when you are most relaxed. It is always good to have a rough plan and a contingency plan. You should also revise them both as a section or day progresses.
That’s the theory anyway. Of course, it doesn’t always go to plan.
Day S minus 2
Just about prepared but we could not find Biggles, only his kilt and hat. Biggles was given to us before the first Marathon and has accompanied me on all rallies since. Was this an omen?
Day S minus 1.
The plan was to get up early to catch the ferry at Dover at 8.30. Amy was to drive to get the feel. Plan B was put into affect so Amy could sleep. She had been partying or having late nights all week. No problem, we made it and joined Chris and Nigel Gray in their ex-works VX 4-90 for the ferry trip and drive to Versailles. I had decided to take the coast route to Rouen rather than risk Paris in the rush hour. I am glad we did. The Vauxhall’s dynamo terminal broke on the way so the Jowett spares kit came to the rescue. At the time they were in our class as well. What sportsmanship! Amy had woken up and drove the four hours from Calais to the scrutineering at Versailles palace. I spent the time attempting to calibrate the Halda Twinmaster and Speed Pilot. I became quite distressed, as it would not reach perfection. As the rally progressed it became evident that distances were not that important. Amy tended to use maps and instructions rather than the given distances. I had calibrated the Twinmaster on a measured K from the pub door, along a straight road to a turning in my village. I had given up doing it on the A41, the M1 and the M25 as they all gave me different readings. A 1 to 50000 map was analysed for such a convenient road.
Back to scrutineering. The first job was to find it, and the hotel. French towns, French rush hour traffic, torrents of rain and a map with a label over the important street added half an hour to our expected due time. Then we found scrutineering had moved time and place since the final instructions. A visit to rally HQ pointed us down the street. Amy filled in the forms at signing on while I discussed with Philip Young, the rally organiser, which class I should be in. Since others might realise the Jup did not look like a saloon, I thought it best to be in the sports car class. Peter Banham, the scrutineer, made a cursory inspection since the car was well known in competition. Six failed. We then parked up and started drinking. The Nankivells, Speros and Jacobs were there to greet us. We had a good meal after walking a K in the rain and then dragged ourselves back to a much-needed bed.
Day 1.
Showers still threatened but we wanted to run with the hood down since the Jup is not too pretty with the hood over the roll-over bar. As soon as it went down, it rained, so the modified hood frame went up again and stayed that way for the whole of the first day.
Amy was worried about navigating out of the car park. That was achieved, but panic struck as she was lost after a couple of bends. My sense of direction made a lucky guess and we were on our way.
It was an easy 250k drive to a surprisingly good lunch at Chopin’s mistress’s ex-residence at St Chartier. A few minor repairs, such as squeaks and leaks, were fixed on the way. Another 220k drive, with a brief stop at a bar with some classic cars and bikes at la Serre, finished with us following a Bentley through some twisting Dordogne lanes. That led into the fateful first test at Fontagnes before bedding down (2 hours for me) in the passage control at Aurillac. We would have lost more penalties if Aurillac had been a Time Control. A double bonus was that Amy had booked a bed in this town rather than finding one closer to the next TC. This meant the service crew was on hand to help with the front trunnion.
Day 2
The early morning drive through the misty wooded hillsides was very enjoyable, especially as I had not expected to be doing it 8 hours earlier. Into Requista and TC4, a regularity test (M.R.S.2), the 1000m. Col de Sie and Col de Piquotalen and lunch in the restored city of Carcassonne. The Escola family were there but we did not see them. Then another 5 Cols, each one a 100m.higher before rising to 2407m. into Andorra. One Col was M.R.S.3 where we picked up 10 minutes penalty erroneously. Amy put in a query and had the entire penalty removed. The marshall’s check sheets proved the error. Well spotted Amy. The traffic jam into Andorra for petrol went on for miles. I am sure it cannot be cost effective to waste so much time and effort climbing so high for a tank-full.
The highlight of the day was a regularity where there was no penalty for arriving early. Well spotted Amy! The winners of the rally did not. In essence you enjoyed it as a hill-climb and the Jup certainly did. The suspension was set up well for the climbs so reminiscent of the Dolomites. Overdrive was useful for keeping power at its peek on the straight climbs, even overdrive second helped out of some corners. Those Suzuki Jeep wheels with new centres by Mike Crossman (with whom I did a bit of a Monte) kept more of the tread on the road. They had been made as I had lost faith in the old Dunlop Jup or Javelin wheels taking the punishment. Most of the ones used previously have cracked around the holes or chrome cap fixings. The video has some great sound as the Jup powers around the last bend and ejects Amy towards the timeclock at the finish. We came in 33 seconds early and 25th fastest, not bad for the oldest car on the run. If only the car had been set up like this on those first Marathons, I was thinking!
Then into Andorra city with its spaghetti of roads, a brief chat with the Escolas before a good night’s sleep.
Day 3.
Early morning and an interested Philip Young chatted for some valuable minutes commenting on our Kingpin tyres that I said were brilliant. I broke my driving glasses, but the back-up pair was found. I am not at my best before sunrise. 250K of fast, almost traffic-free, roads took us to TC6 at Calanda.
We had just been through Lerida then Fraga and stopped at some lights before turning into the country. A few rally cars were in convoy and inexplicably going slow. A couple in the convoy grew impatient only to be booked for speeding along with a dozen others. The reason for our slowness was the service crew had back-tracked and warned the first in the pack. Thanks guys! It saved us each £150 fines. They collected £5000 for the police ball that day. I must say most rally cars observe speed limits most of the time. This was just a very good place to put a trap.
Just after that the road became rough. Probably not because of that but we had a puncture. Amy was asked to check on our time as well as helping change the wheel. I was worried as the road was bad although it was an A road on the map. We had also had to wait while a flock of sheep crossed a long bridge and had stopped for petrol after the speeding incident. Although we made the next TC there was not quite enough time to get the puncture fixed at a nearby garage in Calanda. Luckily the marshal was no other than Peter Banham, one of the service crew. He gladly took the wheel with my spare tube to fix. We caught up with him much later in the day with the repaired wheel. His beside-the-road repair with a couple of tyre levers amazed the locals who gave him a box of peaches. Moises, by chance, was at the lunchtime control at Ademuz and took the tube for repair to return it at the next night halt.
Then followed M.R.S.6 before the spectacular drive into the gorge at Alcala Del Jucar for tea time. This gorge has houses built into the rock 100m. up in the cliff. Amy then drove much of the long drive through nearly 300k of olive groves into Ubeda. One small problem arose. The rear hub was working loose. I made the washer thicker with wire and this cured it. A total of 921k that day.
Day 4.
Amy had calculated when to get up in order to make the first time control 229k away at 10.30 +51 minutes, which we achieved at 7.30. An easy breakfast and a much too long a chat, we left at 8.30. The 229k on red A roads initially looked achievable at 80k/hr but it proved not to be. First we took 15 minutes to get to the start because our hotel was in the centre of town. This too, meant we were 30 minutes later to bed than the Rally HQ residents. Motto try to stay in HQ. We had asked but had no choice.
The first 100k was fast and we kept on time. But then we turned left at a T to Alcaudete. I asked Amy if it was correct as for some reason my 6th sense thought it was wrong. I had not looked at the map, leaving Amy the responsibility. After 10k she realised her mistake, so we had to backtrack. Now the pace was getting difficult to keep up. Next we hit the town of Priego de Cordoba. The narrative had warned us about finding the correct way out. We managed it after much deliberation; unlike a lot, including the rally winner, who were lost for a long time. They had a fast Porsche and were able to catch up, the venerable Jupiter was now being driven at its limit. The 26k of twisting road was not allowing me to pull back time. The next decision was to get petrol or not. We managed a quick stop of 3 minutes although in retrospect we perhaps could have done without as there was some at the next TC. 27k of motorway allowed the Jup to be driven flat out with a following wind. I was really worried the damage it would do to the engine which was pulling top revs in overdrive (over ?!*mph just in case those Spanish police read this). I was also worried the Kingpins might explode, but I need not have. Had they been tested for continuous driving at that speed? The motorway finished and we then had 30k of A road to the control at Campillos. We arrived 9 minutes late ejecting Amy, who was already running before the car stopped, towards the time clock and, unknown to me, also picked up 15 minutes extra for being late. That extra penalty must have been an amendment. Disaster.
In that one stage was a demonstration of most of the art of road section navigation (and co-navigating). Amy learnt a lot. I hope! All the above have happened to me over the years but this time it came in threes. What was even more galling was that was the only TC of the day. There was a test that we cleaned and then an educational drive by Amy down to the ferry at Algeciras after a lunch stop high in the mountains. Amy had started to learn the mountain driving technique for a Jupiter.
Next part is Africa.
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The African Experience
Dash to Marakesh and a little of the way back. Part 3.
I checked out the exit to the town when getting the recommended supply of bottled water before going for a much needed beer and shower.
Day 5.
There was lots of excitement the next morning as we anticipated the 433k drive to Ifrane through the hashish growing Rif valleys. Nobody was expected to clean this day. Sure enough nobody did, as the roads were incredibly rough and twisty. The first few k were beautiful as we travelled along the coast before heading south into the first Special Section that I described in part 1. We started to encounter the stone throwers, some were tiny tots but others were youths. The E-type in front of us had his side window smashed by a fist size stone, I had one on mine but it did not smash, and the MGA hard top behind caught one at head height. Luckily it was not a coupe as the dent was quite big.
We past Tom Noor, the Mercedes driver, who was chasing some youths who had just hit his head with a stone. Tom’s second passenger was a Labrador, pity it was not a Rottweiler.
We then had to contend with miles of road building that covered and filled the car with tarred chippings. You soon learn that lorries do not move over in Morocco, the cars do. Then there were miles of dusty road that they had not started surfacing. There was some respite as we travelled on well made road on the approach into Fes. What an impressive place, especially for a Fez-Head Saracens rugby club supporter! Then there was an easy drive into the ski resort of Ifrane, where the car was once again fettled. Moises and Meli greeted us and said they would have to travel now to reach the desert stage to take some pictures. Amy put in another of her queries after checking the day’s results. Those roads surpassed that road on the Austrian/Jugoslav border in Italy on the second Marathon that was my previous favourite stage. Amy came through well after the shock of the crash on the first stage. The Hotel Michlifen gave us dinner and probably something we did not want as well.
Day 6
Saw us moving south across the High Atlas. For some strange reason I decided to check the oil at a TC and to my surprise found the gearbox empty. I asked Amy how long I had, which was not more than 5 minutes, but I scrambled underneath and thought the casing had cracked. I carefully cleaned and degreased it and plastered some instant gasket on it. After the next stage I again found there was no oil. So I sped into a garage straight onto the ramp and had a look while Amy explained to the locals. I found the reverse shaft had come out 15cm so letting all the oil out. The bolt holding it in was missing and the casing thread stripped. Amazingly the rod went back (I have yet to see why the unrestrained gear and washers did not do something horrendous).
The sky was gradually turning orange. We traversed some high barren mountains and rock desert, followed the palm-lined strip of the Ziz river before being enveloped in a blinding, choking sandstorm. Luckily I had fitted foam filters and covered them with vacuum cleaner bags but had forgotten to bring breathing masks for us. Amy used her surong that she bought in Malaysia but I could hardly breath and suffered for days with clogged up lungs. I have driven in blizzards, but this was worse because there are no tracks left by cars and the way in front moves like a cross-tide and directs you off the road.
After an hour or two of this we were halted by some marshalls who told us the desert stage was postponed and we should go directly to the hotel in Erfoud. I guess they did not want to spend weeks finding the rally! So what about Moises? The sand or rather fine dust was getting everywhere. I put tank tape over all the cracks I could find but still the seats and inside filled up. Even worse, the hotel had run out of water so no wash! Then Amy discovered the passports were missing. After much panic I had another search in the sand filled car and found them, but not before Amy had contacted the previous hotel and the police. We were now starting to suffer from Ifrane belly plus some stress. Anyhow there was some local entertainment in front of a swimming pool with a few inches water in it that at least Tom’s dog enjoyed. Oh yes, and it started to rain so the dust turned to mud that, when dry, was like cement.
Day 7.
We awoke before the birds as we wanted to see Erg Chebbi (the largest sand-dune in Morocco) at sunrise. Last month’s Jowetteer picture shows the Erg in the background and the jowett.net web site shows some of the photos on the journey out. The journey back was to be the postponed highlight of the rally. At the Café de Sud, in the shadow of the Erg, we met Moises and Meli who had been trapped there. They had been rescued by some locals and started to sleep on the floor of the café. The rain flooded the floor and they had to take to sleeping on the stone seats. Amy spent a long time before the exciting desert stage talking to a Talaban camel herder and purchasing a fossil.
We exited the walled ‘garden’ of the restaurant over some massive yumps before aiming for a distant point on the horizon across your own chosen route. I think Amy called it navigation! Anyhow we turned left at a bush. I gradually learnt (or plucked up courage) to drive fast over the piste and even reached top gear.
After that bone rattling we stopped for lots of pictures. Then back to Erfoud. I once again found the gearbox shaft hanging out so this time wired and stuck it in with Loctite. Amy was sent to find oil and was most pleased with the locals who insisted that the normal oil would not do for such a car and went off to find some ‘good stuff’. Many other cars with ripped off suspensions, sumps and exhausts were being repaired in the ‘garages’ of Erfoud. We returned to the hotel to pick up the luggage, have some breakfast and go to that much-needed toilet! The water was back on now.
So now we started the planned hard day of rallying. 300k of newly-made road across barren rocky desert, bounded on the right by the High Atlas and on the left by the Sahara. We stopped for pictures of adorable (as Amy calls them) camels. The sandstorm had left drifts across the road and the Wadi’s were full, so brought a touch of Stanhope Ford to the desert. Not quite what we had expected but the Jup was still with its Le Jog prepared electrics.
Then into that 44k of extremely rough road. Malcolm McKay took a brilliant picture showing the mud splattered Jup winding its way through an oasis over the rocky terrain.
We then had a supposedly easy drive to Ouarzazate, but we dallied too long over a drink. I asked Amy to drive as I was shattered, but then worked out our average speed, so I took over. We arrived with 6 minutes to spare over a 138k section. We had a difficult time with a filling station that gave preference to locals, so we had to get petrol in the morning. I was now bad after nearly 13 hours strenuous driving, so went straight to bed.
Day 8
This was an easy half-day with only that long multi-stage regularity on the main road into Marrakech. I went to bed and Amy went to the Kazbar. I emerged for a pizza before even more sleep. I was now on the third type of stomach pill given to me by survivors of the Peking to Paris rally.
Day 9
A long drive of 364k to the first TC was surprisingly enjoyable. The sleep had at least given me some energy. We pushed hard, down mainly straight single-track roads with quite a lot of traffic, people and animals that needed to be avoided. Petrol stops were important. I lent one of my spare cans to someone ahead of me in my class! And this was the last competitive day! And he was Dutch! Perhaps the bug had affected my mind. Navigation was a bit more difficult because there were a lot of turnings and no intelligible signposts, unless you knew what all those squiggles meant. There were a couple of passage controls where you had to write down information from signs. Amy forgot to put the answer in the correct box and picked up 15 minutes of penalty. Never mind, it would not have made much difference.
The penultimate stage of the day was that brilliant drive through the Cedar forest. The car was starting to suffer from fuse blows, loss of overdrive, and an ominous loss of water. But the best stage result was saved till last. Very relieved crews sat and supped in the bar and told of near misses, driving techniques and stomach problems. It was at the meal that evening that the bottled water scam was confirmed.
It was difficult to motivate Amy to check the results and put in queries, as she was exhausted. This is probably the most difficult job for navigators, waiting around after drivers have gone to bed or the bar to check results before they go final or getting up early to check start times after re-seeding. The car was also exhausted and I was not sure the 331k to Tangier would be quite so non-competitive as it had been billed.
Last day.
Some confused town navigation instructions woke the navigators up on this day. Once again a sense of direction, and blind faith in it, saw us through one metropolis. We stopped in an interesting part of town to fill up the rad. It was obviously a drug area as I was offered some. We stopped at one garage to mend something and was helped by an old local who carefully repaired my wooden toolbox that Amy had made when she was about 12. We went through mile upon mile of street markets with massive traffic jams (or horse jams as Amy quipped). Yes, we could have stopped and bought some crockery but would it survive in the Jup? Or, we could have stopped and had a meal in a good restaurant at the seaside, but the radiator was pouring water, the gearbox was making a noise, the overdrive would not work and a vibration in the prop shaft (caused by not having overdrive) was really annoying me. So we limped into the finish in Tangiers. Not everyone made that last stage under their own steam, but they still received a finishers medal. I fettled the car to prepare it for the journey home. Some Bars Leaks seemed to cure the rad problem. The electrics were fixed. So we were ready to enjoy ourselves.
There was some good local entertainment at the prize-giving. The girls looked good in their evening outfits and I looked stupid in my pith helmet. But then I had been out in the midday sun.
The next day I visited the resident Carmelite nurse for some large pills. But the list of things I could not eat or drink was huge. So I could not enjoy my holiday. Jenny’s flight was delayed, so I picked her up close to midnight from the airport. Then I took the sick Amy there at 6a.m.
A morning was spent in the Tangier market, buying carpets and Fez for the Saracens rugby supporters. I could not wait to leave that city and be free of the persistent hassle. After a lot of bribery to the ferry officials, we made it onto an extremely delayed boat, with abysmal services.
I was so glad to stay in a civilised hotel in Spain. Even though I could not enjoy that lovely food and wine. But then they were fantastic roads! Thank you to the organisers, long-suffering marshalls, Kingpin, all the helpers in preparation, Moises and Meli and Amy and Jenny!
A post-mortem on Josephine will follow shortly. She is currently in a thousand pieces in the garage.
The afternoon of day 4 saw us parked in Algeciras waiting for the ferry to Tangier checking the brake adjustment and giving a full grease and fluid top-up. Cars left the boat in a cacophony of horns of different ages. There was a long wait (but then we were in Africa!) before the one k drive to our hotel on the sea-front. The rally cars parked on the central reservation of the boulevard and were immediately surrounded by vendors. Most started by showing some interest but soon brought out the watches or trinkets or tried to entice you off to their shop. I was more intent on fixing the rear axle nut and checking the front suspension was holding up, whereas Amy headed straight for the pool.I checked out the exit to the town when getting the recommended supply of bottled water before going for a much needed beer and shower.
Day 5.
There was lots of excitement the next morning as we anticipated the 433k drive to Ifrane through the hashish growing Rif valleys. Nobody was expected to clean this day. Sure enough nobody did, as the roads were incredibly rough and twisty. The first few k were beautiful as we travelled along the coast before heading south into the first Special Section that I described in part 1. We started to encounter the stone throwers, some were tiny tots but others were youths. The E-type in front of us had his side window smashed by a fist size stone, I had one on mine but it did not smash, and the MGA hard top behind caught one at head height. Luckily it was not a coupe as the dent was quite big.
We past Tom Noor, the Mercedes driver, who was chasing some youths who had just hit his head with a stone. Tom’s second passenger was a Labrador, pity it was not a Rottweiler.
We then had to contend with miles of road building that covered and filled the car with tarred chippings. You soon learn that lorries do not move over in Morocco, the cars do. Then there were miles of dusty road that they had not started surfacing. There was some respite as we travelled on well made road on the approach into Fes. What an impressive place, especially for a Fez-Head Saracens rugby club supporter! Then there was an easy drive into the ski resort of Ifrane, where the car was once again fettled. Moises and Meli greeted us and said they would have to travel now to reach the desert stage to take some pictures. Amy put in another of her queries after checking the day’s results. Those roads surpassed that road on the Austrian/Jugoslav border in Italy on the second Marathon that was my previous favourite stage. Amy came through well after the shock of the crash on the first stage. The Hotel Michlifen gave us dinner and probably something we did not want as well.
Day 6
Saw us moving south across the High Atlas. For some strange reason I decided to check the oil at a TC and to my surprise found the gearbox empty. I asked Amy how long I had, which was not more than 5 minutes, but I scrambled underneath and thought the casing had cracked. I carefully cleaned and degreased it and plastered some instant gasket on it. After the next stage I again found there was no oil. So I sped into a garage straight onto the ramp and had a look while Amy explained to the locals. I found the reverse shaft had come out 15cm so letting all the oil out. The bolt holding it in was missing and the casing thread stripped. Amazingly the rod went back (I have yet to see why the unrestrained gear and washers did not do something horrendous).
The sky was gradually turning orange. We traversed some high barren mountains and rock desert, followed the palm-lined strip of the Ziz river before being enveloped in a blinding, choking sandstorm. Luckily I had fitted foam filters and covered them with vacuum cleaner bags but had forgotten to bring breathing masks for us. Amy used her surong that she bought in Malaysia but I could hardly breath and suffered for days with clogged up lungs. I have driven in blizzards, but this was worse because there are no tracks left by cars and the way in front moves like a cross-tide and directs you off the road.
After an hour or two of this we were halted by some marshalls who told us the desert stage was postponed and we should go directly to the hotel in Erfoud. I guess they did not want to spend weeks finding the rally! So what about Moises? The sand or rather fine dust was getting everywhere. I put tank tape over all the cracks I could find but still the seats and inside filled up. Even worse, the hotel had run out of water so no wash! Then Amy discovered the passports were missing. After much panic I had another search in the sand filled car and found them, but not before Amy had contacted the previous hotel and the police. We were now starting to suffer from Ifrane belly plus some stress. Anyhow there was some local entertainment in front of a swimming pool with a few inches water in it that at least Tom’s dog enjoyed. Oh yes, and it started to rain so the dust turned to mud that, when dry, was like cement.
Day 7.
We awoke before the birds as we wanted to see Erg Chebbi (the largest sand-dune in Morocco) at sunrise. Last month’s Jowetteer picture shows the Erg in the background and the jowett.net web site shows some of the photos on the journey out. The journey back was to be the postponed highlight of the rally. At the Café de Sud, in the shadow of the Erg, we met Moises and Meli who had been trapped there. They had been rescued by some locals and started to sleep on the floor of the café. The rain flooded the floor and they had to take to sleeping on the stone seats. Amy spent a long time before the exciting desert stage talking to a Talaban camel herder and purchasing a fossil.
We exited the walled ‘garden’ of the restaurant over some massive yumps before aiming for a distant point on the horizon across your own chosen route. I think Amy called it navigation! Anyhow we turned left at a bush. I gradually learnt (or plucked up courage) to drive fast over the piste and even reached top gear.
After that bone rattling we stopped for lots of pictures. Then back to Erfoud. I once again found the gearbox shaft hanging out so this time wired and stuck it in with Loctite. Amy was sent to find oil and was most pleased with the locals who insisted that the normal oil would not do for such a car and went off to find some ‘good stuff’. Many other cars with ripped off suspensions, sumps and exhausts were being repaired in the ‘garages’ of Erfoud. We returned to the hotel to pick up the luggage, have some breakfast and go to that much-needed toilet! The water was back on now.
So now we started the planned hard day of rallying. 300k of newly-made road across barren rocky desert, bounded on the right by the High Atlas and on the left by the Sahara. We stopped for pictures of adorable (as Amy calls them) camels. The sandstorm had left drifts across the road and the Wadi’s were full, so brought a touch of Stanhope Ford to the desert. Not quite what we had expected but the Jup was still with its Le Jog prepared electrics.
Then into that 44k of extremely rough road. Malcolm McKay took a brilliant picture showing the mud splattered Jup winding its way through an oasis over the rocky terrain.
We then had a supposedly easy drive to Ouarzazate, but we dallied too long over a drink. I asked Amy to drive as I was shattered, but then worked out our average speed, so I took over. We arrived with 6 minutes to spare over a 138k section. We had a difficult time with a filling station that gave preference to locals, so we had to get petrol in the morning. I was now bad after nearly 13 hours strenuous driving, so went straight to bed.
Day 8
This was an easy half-day with only that long multi-stage regularity on the main road into Marrakech. I went to bed and Amy went to the Kazbar. I emerged for a pizza before even more sleep. I was now on the third type of stomach pill given to me by survivors of the Peking to Paris rally.
Day 9
A long drive of 364k to the first TC was surprisingly enjoyable. The sleep had at least given me some energy. We pushed hard, down mainly straight single-track roads with quite a lot of traffic, people and animals that needed to be avoided. Petrol stops were important. I lent one of my spare cans to someone ahead of me in my class! And this was the last competitive day! And he was Dutch! Perhaps the bug had affected my mind. Navigation was a bit more difficult because there were a lot of turnings and no intelligible signposts, unless you knew what all those squiggles meant. There were a couple of passage controls where you had to write down information from signs. Amy forgot to put the answer in the correct box and picked up 15 minutes of penalty. Never mind, it would not have made much difference.
The penultimate stage of the day was that brilliant drive through the Cedar forest. The car was starting to suffer from fuse blows, loss of overdrive, and an ominous loss of water. But the best stage result was saved till last. Very relieved crews sat and supped in the bar and told of near misses, driving techniques and stomach problems. It was at the meal that evening that the bottled water scam was confirmed.
It was difficult to motivate Amy to check the results and put in queries, as she was exhausted. This is probably the most difficult job for navigators, waiting around after drivers have gone to bed or the bar to check results before they go final or getting up early to check start times after re-seeding. The car was also exhausted and I was not sure the 331k to Tangier would be quite so non-competitive as it had been billed.
Last day.
Some confused town navigation instructions woke the navigators up on this day. Once again a sense of direction, and blind faith in it, saw us through one metropolis. We stopped in an interesting part of town to fill up the rad. It was obviously a drug area as I was offered some. We stopped at one garage to mend something and was helped by an old local who carefully repaired my wooden toolbox that Amy had made when she was about 12. We went through mile upon mile of street markets with massive traffic jams (or horse jams as Amy quipped). Yes, we could have stopped and bought some crockery but would it survive in the Jup? Or, we could have stopped and had a meal in a good restaurant at the seaside, but the radiator was pouring water, the gearbox was making a noise, the overdrive would not work and a vibration in the prop shaft (caused by not having overdrive) was really annoying me. So we limped into the finish in Tangiers. Not everyone made that last stage under their own steam, but they still received a finishers medal. I fettled the car to prepare it for the journey home. Some Bars Leaks seemed to cure the rad problem. The electrics were fixed. So we were ready to enjoy ourselves.
There was some good local entertainment at the prize-giving. The girls looked good in their evening outfits and I looked stupid in my pith helmet. But then I had been out in the midday sun.
The next day I visited the resident Carmelite nurse for some large pills. But the list of things I could not eat or drink was huge. So I could not enjoy my holiday. Jenny’s flight was delayed, so I picked her up close to midnight from the airport. Then I took the sick Amy there at 6a.m.
A morning was spent in the Tangier market, buying carpets and Fez for the Saracens rugby supporters. I could not wait to leave that city and be free of the persistent hassle. After a lot of bribery to the ferry officials, we made it onto an extremely delayed boat, with abysmal services.
I was so glad to stay in a civilised hotel in Spain. Even though I could not enjoy that lovely food and wine. But then they were fantastic roads! Thank you to the organisers, long-suffering marshalls, Kingpin, all the helpers in preparation, Moises and Meli and Amy and Jenny!
A post-mortem on Josephine will follow shortly. She is currently in a thousand pieces in the garage.
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- Given Name: Keith
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A marathon of preparation.
A marathon of preparation.
The first task is to decide what to do, speak to people who have done similar things before, consult the Jowett sport team etc etc. Then make a list. Well I purposefully haven’t consulted that list for this write-up, mainly because Chris wants it in a hurry.
The biggest problem was wheels. Most of the ones rallied on before have cracked around the holes and cap studs with the strain of big sticky tyres and age. So I had a choice, weld up one of the sets used before or find an alternative. I tried various sources. Frank Wooley took one of his to Lee’s to copy and they quoted about $80 a wheel, but they were a modern off-track design. So Amy and a friend paint-stripped the chosen set while I visited scrap yards for suitable rims. Four Suzuki jeep wheels in fairly bad condition were all I could find. These were despatched to Mike Crossman (whom I did a part Monte with) after I had worked out a design for new centres. Meanwhile I borrowed next-doors arc welder and strengthened the back-up set. These are now on the Javelin as the ones that came back from Mike were superb. They are 16 inch 4.5in with a bit of offset to allow me to adjust track with spacers. The 175 tyres, once again kindly supplied by Kingpin, sat flat on the wider rims. Amy checked the run-out on the Javelin front hub. From memory I think I allowed 20 thou. Anyway they balanced up and ran smoothly. Thanks Mike and Frank. P.S. If you visit a scrap yard, buy up any Jeep wheels.
Then there was the suspension to strengthen. Ken Braddock supplied two very strong lower rear arms. New bushes were fitted and 1mm of rear axle tube was ground away to provide clearance at full bump. Bill Lock supplied two torsion bars for the rear that had less residual twist than my well used ones. The Panhard rod retainers were strengthened.
Straps were fitted to support the axle on full bump to prevent the shortened prop shaft for the overdrive from going through too great an angle.
New hangers to take Transit figure 8 doughnuts were welded to the exhaust. The exhaust pipe was also bent as close to the chassis as possible thanks to John Blankley’s massive pipe bender.
Unfortunately I did not renew the front suspension which might have detected a sheared trunnion bolt. Anyway that is one of the jobs to do now while fitting new trunnion rubbers.
The engine mountings were secured with Terry clips so the engine did not take off in the massive yumps. One of these broke, I discovered on return, but the mountings were still intact.
A sump guard was fixed with U bolts and 1 inch wood spacers (to cushion chassis tubes). I already have 45 degree supports to the front tubes. Hopefully, I can publish pictures of the sump and chassis damage sustained. But I was pleased with the design as it saved the engine and chassis where it mattered most. You would not believe the size of the bolder or the 70mph impact or the sparks and noise that caused the damage thanks to the Moroccan youths.
The brake drums were skimmed via Ken Braddock and new linings and springs were fitted.
Next was cooling. I already had a large oil cooler mounted to the bulkhead and a thermostat. Mike Smailes suggested an aluminium radiator. So to hell with the expense I measured up for one, increasing dimensions wherever possible. It came a week before the rally after much delay. Unfortunately, the thread on the temperature sensor was not correct. So again JB helped me out with the correct tap. The Renault 16 fan and a new Kenlowe adjustable sensor were fitted. This would enhance the 8-blade variable pitch mechanical fan that I had carefully balanced. The fan support bracket had broken again so this was strengthened. The system worked well. As far as I know the electric fan never came on even though we experienced hard driving in 90deg plus temperatures. We ran much of the time at half pitch on the mechanical fan, only increasing to ¾ pitch in the desert. A couple of days before we took it for a test drive, well actually to get some Pipex air filters, we lost water on the M25 and found the water pump seals had blown. I loosened the rad pressure cap so that we could continue. It was the next day and a few shops before I found a 4 p.s.i. cap to fit. The previous one was 15p.s.i. from Amy’s mini. Even though the rad was mounted on rubber the severe vibration during the rally split the side of it. It is now back with the manufacturers. Radweld cured the leak on the rally, but it only had to survive the last sedentary day.
The heater was removed to save weight and replaced with a plastic bucket to store Amy’s food (it would double as a liquid catcher in emergencies). While in the cockpit, the fire extinguisher, first aid kit, duplicate speedo cables for Halda Speedpilot and Twinmaster, clocks and compass were fitted. The rally seats full-harness belts were checked for comfort and safety. Pockets were put in the door for glasses and maps. The hood frame parts were removed to allow stowage of the hood with the roll-over bar in place. The roll-over bar was padded with foam as we expected our heads to be thrown about. The boot rack was fitted in case we had to carry something like the spare wheel (if the spare wheel tray was damaged) or duty free. All the tools, spares, maps and supplies were stowed securely and accessibly.
In the engine bay all wires were protected, stone guard mesh was fitted to the louvres and rubber skirt (pond liner) was hung across behind the front wheels to protect the chassis from stone blasting. All ignition leads were sealed and lucky we did because it rained all through France and we hit some wet wadis in the desert. The gearbox oil filler was extended to the top of the side of the radiator. The radiator overflow was taken to a container to save any fluid that might boil out. The crankcase breather vents were fitted with tubes and taken to a 2-inch segment of paper air cleaner fitted high up on the bonnet support.
I had spent many weeks designing and testing an air cleaner similar to the original Vokes ( A Renault 16TS actually). This made the engine very quite but I detected a flat spot due to the two sides of the engine upsetting carburation. It would have given very clean air but I decided to lash out and buy a pair of PiperX foam cones at $55. Vacuum cleaner bags for the dusty sections supplemented these. Whilst there I also bought some chrome wheel nuts to make the car look prettier but also to aid removal.
Well that was it, I think, from memory. My list probably included many other jobs. Thanks to all who assisted, especially to Kingpin Tyres that once again supplied strong and sticky ‘boots’. Poor fitting of the tube caused the puncture we had. Always use a commercial fitter is my motto now. I should have learnt from previous years.
Now the engine and gearbox are out for careful examination. You never know I may report on that next.
I thought I would supplement the tale described on the web pages about Amy and myself on the Classic Marathon to Morocco with one about the 7 months of preparation for the event. OK so I was out of the country or up-country on business most weeks but I buried myself in the garage most weekends. What do you do to a car that has had about 1000 hours preparation for holidays, rallies and races?The first task is to decide what to do, speak to people who have done similar things before, consult the Jowett sport team etc etc. Then make a list. Well I purposefully haven’t consulted that list for this write-up, mainly because Chris wants it in a hurry.
The biggest problem was wheels. Most of the ones rallied on before have cracked around the holes and cap studs with the strain of big sticky tyres and age. So I had a choice, weld up one of the sets used before or find an alternative. I tried various sources. Frank Wooley took one of his to Lee’s to copy and they quoted about $80 a wheel, but they were a modern off-track design. So Amy and a friend paint-stripped the chosen set while I visited scrap yards for suitable rims. Four Suzuki jeep wheels in fairly bad condition were all I could find. These were despatched to Mike Crossman (whom I did a part Monte with) after I had worked out a design for new centres. Meanwhile I borrowed next-doors arc welder and strengthened the back-up set. These are now on the Javelin as the ones that came back from Mike were superb. They are 16 inch 4.5in with a bit of offset to allow me to adjust track with spacers. The 175 tyres, once again kindly supplied by Kingpin, sat flat on the wider rims. Amy checked the run-out on the Javelin front hub. From memory I think I allowed 20 thou. Anyway they balanced up and ran smoothly. Thanks Mike and Frank. P.S. If you visit a scrap yard, buy up any Jeep wheels.
Then there was the suspension to strengthen. Ken Braddock supplied two very strong lower rear arms. New bushes were fitted and 1mm of rear axle tube was ground away to provide clearance at full bump. Bill Lock supplied two torsion bars for the rear that had less residual twist than my well used ones. The Panhard rod retainers were strengthened.
Straps were fitted to support the axle on full bump to prevent the shortened prop shaft for the overdrive from going through too great an angle.
New hangers to take Transit figure 8 doughnuts were welded to the exhaust. The exhaust pipe was also bent as close to the chassis as possible thanks to John Blankley’s massive pipe bender.
Unfortunately I did not renew the front suspension which might have detected a sheared trunnion bolt. Anyway that is one of the jobs to do now while fitting new trunnion rubbers.
The engine mountings were secured with Terry clips so the engine did not take off in the massive yumps. One of these broke, I discovered on return, but the mountings were still intact.
A sump guard was fixed with U bolts and 1 inch wood spacers (to cushion chassis tubes). I already have 45 degree supports to the front tubes. Hopefully, I can publish pictures of the sump and chassis damage sustained. But I was pleased with the design as it saved the engine and chassis where it mattered most. You would not believe the size of the bolder or the 70mph impact or the sparks and noise that caused the damage thanks to the Moroccan youths.
The brake drums were skimmed via Ken Braddock and new linings and springs were fitted.
Next was cooling. I already had a large oil cooler mounted to the bulkhead and a thermostat. Mike Smailes suggested an aluminium radiator. So to hell with the expense I measured up for one, increasing dimensions wherever possible. It came a week before the rally after much delay. Unfortunately, the thread on the temperature sensor was not correct. So again JB helped me out with the correct tap. The Renault 16 fan and a new Kenlowe adjustable sensor were fitted. This would enhance the 8-blade variable pitch mechanical fan that I had carefully balanced. The fan support bracket had broken again so this was strengthened. The system worked well. As far as I know the electric fan never came on even though we experienced hard driving in 90deg plus temperatures. We ran much of the time at half pitch on the mechanical fan, only increasing to ¾ pitch in the desert. A couple of days before we took it for a test drive, well actually to get some Pipex air filters, we lost water on the M25 and found the water pump seals had blown. I loosened the rad pressure cap so that we could continue. It was the next day and a few shops before I found a 4 p.s.i. cap to fit. The previous one was 15p.s.i. from Amy’s mini. Even though the rad was mounted on rubber the severe vibration during the rally split the side of it. It is now back with the manufacturers. Radweld cured the leak on the rally, but it only had to survive the last sedentary day.
The heater was removed to save weight and replaced with a plastic bucket to store Amy’s food (it would double as a liquid catcher in emergencies). While in the cockpit, the fire extinguisher, first aid kit, duplicate speedo cables for Halda Speedpilot and Twinmaster, clocks and compass were fitted. The rally seats full-harness belts were checked for comfort and safety. Pockets were put in the door for glasses and maps. The hood frame parts were removed to allow stowage of the hood with the roll-over bar in place. The roll-over bar was padded with foam as we expected our heads to be thrown about. The boot rack was fitted in case we had to carry something like the spare wheel (if the spare wheel tray was damaged) or duty free. All the tools, spares, maps and supplies were stowed securely and accessibly.
In the engine bay all wires were protected, stone guard mesh was fitted to the louvres and rubber skirt (pond liner) was hung across behind the front wheels to protect the chassis from stone blasting. All ignition leads were sealed and lucky we did because it rained all through France and we hit some wet wadis in the desert. The gearbox oil filler was extended to the top of the side of the radiator. The radiator overflow was taken to a container to save any fluid that might boil out. The crankcase breather vents were fitted with tubes and taken to a 2-inch segment of paper air cleaner fitted high up on the bonnet support.
I had spent many weeks designing and testing an air cleaner similar to the original Vokes ( A Renault 16TS actually). This made the engine very quite but I detected a flat spot due to the two sides of the engine upsetting carburation. It would have given very clean air but I decided to lash out and buy a pair of PiperX foam cones at $55. Vacuum cleaner bags for the dusty sections supplemented these. Whilst there I also bought some chrome wheel nuts to make the car look prettier but also to aid removal.
Well that was it, I think, from memory. My list probably included many other jobs. Thanks to all who assisted, especially to Kingpin Tyres that once again supplied strong and sticky ‘boots’. Poor fitting of the tube caused the puncture we had. Always use a commercial fitter is my motto now. I should have learnt from previous years.
Now the engine and gearbox are out for careful examination. You never know I may report on that next.
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Pictures of the 98 Marathon from various contributors
My thanks to Moises Escola, Malcolm McKay, Jack Jacobs and Amy Clements for these gorgeous pictures.
(Moises and Meli who took pictures in France, Spain and Morocco)
(Moises and Meli who took pictures in France, Spain and Morocco)
Last edited by Keith Clements on Fri Feb 01, 2019 6:10 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Amy's view.
Sorry about the delay! I'm rather bogged down in the world of academia at the moment!
Moroccan Magic? No doubt by now you've all seen some kind of report from my dad, packed with techie things that I don't understand. Well, this is the novice's version of events.
For anyone that doesn't know me, or know of me, I'm now a 20-year-old student brought up surrounded by Jowetts, and my dad rallying them. He always threatened to take me as a navigator one day, but I suspected that that was an empty promise. However, having been to an info meeting about the 'Dash to Marrakech' my name was entered in the co-driver's space. As someone whose experience is limited to a tour of Scotland, and the rebuilding of Minis, I knew that this could hold some surprises. I didn't give it much thought until July this year, when the Rally office started sending things to me. Uh-oh.
Now, whereas dad has a plethora of experience in these things, I had exactly none. I was suddenly faced with a route to plot. OK, not so difficult, is it? A pencil, a couple of maps and the route book. Except there was one thing missing - instructions. What the hell was I meant to do with all this? Dad was away all week, so I improvised. And procrastinated. I thought when the route was plotted that the rest of it would be easy. Amazing how naive I can be sometimes!
The rally started innocuously enough. Versailles to Aurillac. OK. That was, until the Halda broke, and we had a major breakdown on my first ever regularity. Some French practice soon procured the parts necessary and I left the boys playing on the car whilst I found the hotel and got some sleep. Welcome to rallying! By now I was beginning to realise quite how steep a learning curve I had taken... The trip through Europe was comparatively uneventful. They were long, hard days of driving, but the navigation was fairly simple. The roads were all marked on the maps, for a start, which tends to be helpful. Morocco was a different experience. The first day there involved four very tight regularities back to back. Great excuse to yell at the driver...and the Halda was by now was working. Always useful, I find.
We survived the stones aimed at us - chuck sweets at children with stones and they scramble! By the time we reached the desert section in Erfoud, dad was quite ill (he's getting old, I think!). However, the regularity that was to have taken place in the Sahara that afternoon was called off due to the sandstorm that was taking place. This is where I discovered the purpose of the Berber head-dresses that are native to the area. The desert regularity was designed as the highlight of the rally, and indeed it was. The surface was rock, not sand desert, but it was an incredibly hard to follow route. Dad blames the six minutes that we dropped on my navigation. I blame it on his driving (he was going too slow, you see!) And anyway, there aren't many maps for the desert... From a navigational viewpoint, the worst part of the rally was the 44 km of un-surfaced road that we took. Apparently, this is all that used to pass for roads in Morocco until the last decade or two. I'm glad that they have since discovered tarmac...There were no instructions in the route book for this stretch, merely a time limit for completion. Great! A nice straight road was expected. No. What we had to drive down was a rough track with small rocks covering the far from flat surface - yumps were a frequent occurrence. Apart from being uncomfortable in the extreme, there were roads going off the main track every so often. How did we know which to take? We didn't. There was no car in sight either in front or behind. The only navigational tool I had was the sun (the compass permanently showed North as the car's body affected it). There were also some electricity pylons. As we were headed to a city, (and I did not particularly want to be stuck 30km from the nearest spot of civilisation), I followed the pylons - a city needs electricity, right? Luckily, it paid off, though there were many times when both dad and I doubted that we would ever escape this barren track. The highlight of the rally? Camels! - more reliable in the desert than many of the cars that fell foul of the unkind surface. All in all, it was a fantastic experience, which I hope one day to repeat in a Mini (sorry, that was JOWETT) of my own, and without a father as a driver. The parental relationship tends to suffer rather, especially when you are constantly telling your dad where to go! Amy.
Some pictures she took..
Moroccan Magic? No doubt by now you've all seen some kind of report from my dad, packed with techie things that I don't understand. Well, this is the novice's version of events.
For anyone that doesn't know me, or know of me, I'm now a 20-year-old student brought up surrounded by Jowetts, and my dad rallying them. He always threatened to take me as a navigator one day, but I suspected that that was an empty promise. However, having been to an info meeting about the 'Dash to Marrakech' my name was entered in the co-driver's space. As someone whose experience is limited to a tour of Scotland, and the rebuilding of Minis, I knew that this could hold some surprises. I didn't give it much thought until July this year, when the Rally office started sending things to me. Uh-oh.
Now, whereas dad has a plethora of experience in these things, I had exactly none. I was suddenly faced with a route to plot. OK, not so difficult, is it? A pencil, a couple of maps and the route book. Except there was one thing missing - instructions. What the hell was I meant to do with all this? Dad was away all week, so I improvised. And procrastinated. I thought when the route was plotted that the rest of it would be easy. Amazing how naive I can be sometimes!
The rally started innocuously enough. Versailles to Aurillac. OK. That was, until the Halda broke, and we had a major breakdown on my first ever regularity. Some French practice soon procured the parts necessary and I left the boys playing on the car whilst I found the hotel and got some sleep. Welcome to rallying! By now I was beginning to realise quite how steep a learning curve I had taken... The trip through Europe was comparatively uneventful. They were long, hard days of driving, but the navigation was fairly simple. The roads were all marked on the maps, for a start, which tends to be helpful. Morocco was a different experience. The first day there involved four very tight regularities back to back. Great excuse to yell at the driver...and the Halda was by now was working. Always useful, I find.
We survived the stones aimed at us - chuck sweets at children with stones and they scramble! By the time we reached the desert section in Erfoud, dad was quite ill (he's getting old, I think!). However, the regularity that was to have taken place in the Sahara that afternoon was called off due to the sandstorm that was taking place. This is where I discovered the purpose of the Berber head-dresses that are native to the area. The desert regularity was designed as the highlight of the rally, and indeed it was. The surface was rock, not sand desert, but it was an incredibly hard to follow route. Dad blames the six minutes that we dropped on my navigation. I blame it on his driving (he was going too slow, you see!) And anyway, there aren't many maps for the desert... From a navigational viewpoint, the worst part of the rally was the 44 km of un-surfaced road that we took. Apparently, this is all that used to pass for roads in Morocco until the last decade or two. I'm glad that they have since discovered tarmac...There were no instructions in the route book for this stretch, merely a time limit for completion. Great! A nice straight road was expected. No. What we had to drive down was a rough track with small rocks covering the far from flat surface - yumps were a frequent occurrence. Apart from being uncomfortable in the extreme, there were roads going off the main track every so often. How did we know which to take? We didn't. There was no car in sight either in front or behind. The only navigational tool I had was the sun (the compass permanently showed North as the car's body affected it). There were also some electricity pylons. As we were headed to a city, (and I did not particularly want to be stuck 30km from the nearest spot of civilisation), I followed the pylons - a city needs electricity, right? Luckily, it paid off, though there were many times when both dad and I doubted that we would ever escape this barren track. The highlight of the rally? Camels! - more reliable in the desert than many of the cars that fell foul of the unkind surface. All in all, it was a fantastic experience, which I hope one day to repeat in a Mini (sorry, that was JOWETT) of my own, and without a father as a driver. The parental relationship tends to suffer rather, especially when you are constantly telling your dad where to go! Amy.
Some pictures she took..
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A selection of clips from the Keith Clements’ video of the Classic Marathon 1998 to Morocco.
All clips are in jpg format suitable for PC viewing, taken with a JVC GR-DVM801 digital video. I suggest you save into a file and then use a proper viewer to obtain the 768x552x16million colour quality. They have not been saved in the higher quality bit map format or processed with a photo editor. Some with movement need to be saved by field rather than frame but quality will come later. Sound will be added soon so you can relish the throb of the engines.
Please send me any clips you have, particularly of Jowetts, by e-mail or snail mail. Ed likes Frame 20, send me your vote for the best. Amy has lots of 35mm pics that are waiting to be returned for scanning. Moises and Malcolm have sent me some photos which are awaiting loading onto the site.
Please send me any clips you have, particularly of Jowetts, by e-mail or snail mail. Ed likes Frame 20, send me your vote for the best. Amy has lots of 35mm pics that are waiting to be returned for scanning. Moises and Malcolm have sent me some photos which are awaiting loading onto the site.
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