Tuesday 5th May 2015
PH in the Defender Challenge
What's it like to rally a Bowler-prepped Land Rover Defender 90?
What's it like to rally a Bowler-prepped Land Rover Defender 90? Dan finds out the hard way
First rule of rallying? Crash on co-driver's side!
So. I've familiarised myself with what happens when it goes wrong. A life steeped in off-road competition means Quin is admirably calm about the whole thing too. He recounts going end-over-end down a dune on thedriver Tony Harris and instructing him to get on the gas before the wheels hit the ground to prevent a second somersault. Mind. Boggles."Better you got it out the way now," seems the general consensus back at service. I'd expected scorn. Instead it seems I've just fast-tracked an important rite of passage.
There's a problem though. A bolt from the hardtop has scored the cage. Scrutineer says no - car's not running tomorrow. Event over before it's begun? Like heck. The Bowler guys don't take no for an answer. Or let little things like no phone signal get in the way of calling in the cavalry. Someone drives to the top of a nearby hill to put a call in and a man obligingly abandons his bank holiday to drive a Defender Challenge car from Cirencester for the Bowler boys to pillage for necessary parts. Incredible.
Midnight oil burned to swap bits to PH Defender
I'm utterly undeserving of such effort - see the. But by dawn I have a car and, amazingly, the team seem almost grateful to have been presented with a seemingly impossible challenge. This, it seems, is what it's all about. Best get out there and do their efforts justice then.Hammer time
The liaison to the first stage on the other side of the valley helps me dial into the Defender and tap Quin for advice. We'll be doing two different stages today, repeated in the afternoon. And they're long too - around 20 miles each with at least the same again in liaisons. OK, it's not the Dakar. But if you're looking for value for money in your motorsport hill rallying certainly delivers on wheel time.
Dan ponders how to keep it upright
Following one of the other Bowlers to the stage the idea of a Defender 90 as a rally car seems no less incongruous. And yet here I am, surrounded by roll cage, harnessed behind a rally wheel and in my racing suit. If most of my attire is circuit racer my footwear is at least a bit more Land Rover, Alpinestars disco slippers quickly binned in favour of Karrimor hiking boots. A suitable reflection of the finesse required to pedal a rally Land Rover.For all the rally accoutrements the Defender is still a Defender.are relatively minor, Bowler adding Bilstein dampers and new springs, bushings and anti-roll bars but keeping the major components standard. Meaning it rattles, shudders and bounces about, the steering is heavy and vague and everything feels, well, agricultural. There are control Kumho tyres, the engine is pushed to a - wait for it - heady 170hp in Stage 1 tune and there's an incredibly manly cranked gearshifter and similarly burly looking transfer selector. But it needs a bungee to hold the centre diff lock engaged and dreams of using the handbrake rally style are scuppered because you can't actually reach it.
Forest tracks are very much like stage rallying
Not that I'll need to. Seems a short-wheelbase Landie on slippery gravel and mud needs very little encouragement to change direction. Indeed, keeping it upright and pointing forwards seems the greater challenge.Arm twirling
On the first stage I'm too tense and nervous to exploit this adjustability though. It might not be fast but the Defender is a proper handful. The hardest adjustment is the slowness of the steering and lack of self centring - you may well catch the slide but you need to wind the lock off just as quickly or this happens .
At times it feels like I'm just throwing every last driving technique at situations and hoping something - anything - will stick. Lift off or trail the brakes on corner entry to get the front end in, wind the corrective lock on, bang it down a gear, swap left foot to brake to keep the nose weighted and rear mobile, spool up the turbo at the same time with my right foot so when I release the brake it's tensed to haul me straight, ready with the arm twirling to wind the lock off, bang, clank, graunch ... and that's when it goes right.
Hill rallying gets a bit more down and dirty though
Unlike stage rallying there are no pace notes, Quin calling things as he sees them and alternating between route card administrator, second pair of eyes, driving coach and general calming voice of experience.One corner in five it comes together and I get the Defender backing into the corner on the brakes like a hot hatch, the engine is primed and spins up all four wheels to pull the car out in a four-wheel drift daubing the Welsh hillsides in mud and gravel. More often though it's flailing arms and heart in mouth saves, death drops/ditches/trees ever present in my peripheral vision. Yet rarely are we going much faster than 60mph. What must this be like in a stage rally at speeds double that?
Into the rough
Just as I think I'm getting the hang of the forest roads, Quin calls a "hairpin right at second flag!" and I'm looking over my shoulder at what appears to be a vertical wall of rutted clag. No way does the Defender have enough lock to get round there. Doesn't matter. Drop the wheels into the ruts, nail it and hope for the best.
Hooking it into ditches helps speed in corners
And here is where hill rallying differs from the stage variety. All of a sudden it's like someone's shouted 'let's off-road!' and you're in proper Landie territory. Albeit tackled at speed. Wheel-sized ditches pound through the Defender's structure, my helmet bangs and clatters against the roll cage and the wheel spins in my hands, playing barely a supporting role in the direction of travel. We slew through two-foot deep ruts, bounce over fallen logs, career down perilously steep hillsides and clatter back out onto another flat-out fire road.It's alright. Only another six stages to go.
Back at service we arrive at the Bowler pit area to find a line of mud-caked Defenders. Camo-clad legs poke out from under cars, the sound of hammers clanging against bodywork and chassis components rings out and the cheery banter flows despite the foul conditions. Seems the Belgian team have slithered into a tree and bent their bumper. The solution is to tie a rope around it, lash the other end to the chassis of the Bowler Dakar support truck ... and engage reverse.
Upside down Defender? Normal in these parts!
Over tea and sugary snacks I chat with some of the other drivers. Richard has driven with Quin numerous times and has a lot of off-road miles under his belt; Brian in contrast has done Caterham Academy and, like me, swapped his racing pumps for wellies. His eyes are nearly as wide as mine. With the support trucks and accompanying moral and mechanical supportoffers a taste of rally raid style endurance events for a relatively modest cost, the FIA-approved cars ready to take you where you want to go above and beyond domestic competition.We're soon back out for the second stage and I'm a little more comfortable with what the Defender is doing. I'm still struggling to cope with the reactive nature of rally driving though. On track you can analyse and plan your attack on a corner you've hit countless times before; here you're trying to do the same but with the bare minimum of information and constantly varying grip, surface, camber and more. Did I mention the death drops?
The real heroes of hill rallying are the mechanics
Reality checkOn the third stage we're caught and passed by another of the Defenders, charging back after a roll. I'm crestfallen but Quin tactfully reminds me to drive my own stage and not get caught up in racing. A reminder he needs to make again on the last stage of the day as I catch glimpse of Richard's lights in the fog ahead of me. In my haste to chase him I half spin on a corner, feet away from a plunge down a raging stream. Boots cooled.
By day two the fear has returned and for the first stage - a repeat of yesterday's second - I'm tense and nervous again. I'm making lots of mistakes but by mid-way through the speed is coming again and I'm relaxing into it. The end is in sight but stage six is a disaster. Spooked by the sight of an upturned Defender my concentration takes a jolt and not long after I'm within a whisker of following suit. "Close," says Quin, tersely. 500 metres before the end we find another Defender on its roof in the middle of the track, crew shaken but OK. Gawd.
Not sure who looks more relieved it's over...
By the last stage I'm faced with the conflicting need to go quickly and put in a good showing but also bring the car home intact. Frankly I wuss out and cruise it.The results bring it all home - second to last of the Defenders and 17th out of 26 finishers overall. But the rate of attrition is high - of the 10 Defender Challenge cars three roll, two of those retiring, and another two have significant interactions with the scenery. We pass Quin's brother Dan standing glumly beside the track, his Milner in the trees, and have to bulldoze our way past several other stranded vehicles on the way. There is a sense of achievement in just making it to the end.
But my respect for everyone involved in the sport from drivers to marshals, mechanics, caterers and scrutineers is the biggest revelation. "It's the taking part that counts" is the common platitude for a so-so performance in competitive endeavour. But in hill rallying you get the impression that really is the truth.
LAND ROVER DEFENDER CHALLENGE BY BOWLER
Engine: 2,198cc, 4-cyl turbodiesel
Transmission: 6-speed manual, four-wheel drive (with diff lock)
Power (hp): 170
Torque (lb ft): 332
0-62mph: 7.9sec
Top speed: >100mph (depending on tyres)
Weight: 1,770kg (approx.)
Price: £50,000 (plus VAT)
Photos: James Arbuckle/Land Rover, additional shots by Dan