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Ranson Times - July 8th 2006

Harewood, a game of two halves, extra time and the usual collapse at the end. The hillclimb organisers were able to give us the opportunity of four practice runs on Saturday and still allow those interested in pastiche to watch the Portuguese falling over and the English falling down. Perhaps there is some organisational talent lurking in BARC(Yorks) that could be usefully deployed in a more public arena?

Team Pale Yellow made a classic error when servicing the clutch prior to the meeting. Obviously sensible people check the clutch operation at the earliest opportunity when reassembling, but we put the gearbox on, attached and bled the hydraulics then got distracted, returning to put everything else back together. I then compounded the error and we ended up with the car on the steep road down to the start before realising there was no clutch operation. So the car coasted down and was then towed back to the top for repair. So much for first practice, the towing experience would, however, come in useful next day.

It really doesn't take long to remove the gearbox and get to the clutch, especially with the assistance of Bill Bristow, Mike Dean, Gina D. and others. Scavenging in the spares box and some careful carbon preparation with the aid of Russ Pickering produced a complete set of parts. This time we tested operation as soon as possible...

By now first and second practice runs had been taken by most. The organisers were kind enough to allow us to run as and when so we had a go. The car was good and the track very good. Martin ran the third fastest ever time up Harewood on his first run. I went around again and then we rested until it was time to slot into the normal running order for the fourth runs on offer. This time Martin went under the existing course record. So now he's run two of the four fastest ever times on year old practice tyres. This boded well, but the bodes were having a laugh.

Saturday evening was spent at the local Chinese restaurant. The Masons were sent on a random walk and flagged down in the street outside to join us. A very entertaining time was had and it's a good job that the chopsticks came with instructions.

First qualifying on Sunday was slightly disappointing for me. I was stuck in the 52s in practice on our oldest tyres, put better rubber on and stayed in the 52s. Martin reset the class record, putting it just below the talismanic 50s barrier, but didn't approach the outright time. Scott gave no indication of what was to come.

As usual I got to run first in the runoff. Even better tyres, still stuck in the 52s. No comment.

Scott had qualified second and produced an astonishing run to demolish the record, recording 49.19, implying the 48s are within reach. If we'd looked at last years split times closely we'd have been less surprised, combining Willem's first part with Martin's second gets you into the Scott zone. Going two seconds faster than qualifying isn't that unusual, but the second second here was magical.

What happened next was dramatic but unfortunate. Martin had deliberately made himself unaware of Scott's time by starting the engine and proceeding to the line as Scott finished his run. The run was looking good, a conservative estimate from the data logger suggests a mid to low 49. At least 10 points. But the clock wasn't running and he was flagged on the exit of Country. He made his way to the top in an understandably agitated state. Unfortunately Scott's time was still on the clock near the finish. So now he knew. We refuelled the car, cooled and cleaned the tyres, Martin had a cigarette. Is nicotine a stimulant? Perhaps he was smoking the wrong stuff. The Merricks, Roger Moran and others all mucked in to assist. This is the kind of stuff that produces a warm and fuzzy feeling in retrospect; but at the time there was no way to generate tranquillity.

This time the run ended at the first corner. A bit too much on the right pedal followed by heavy braking and the car just says 'I give up' and turns around. No physical damage but a decent score blown. Suddenly Scott leads the championship and the pressure is on.

My second qualifying run was a mild improvement to a lower 52. Martin was subdued at 51.02, the same time as Simon Durling. Scott was slightly behind on a consistent 51.16. Since Simon recorded his time first he was officially fastest qualifier. Both Mark and Andy Coley qualified, so I got to run second. There was a big black cloud coming up the valley, time perhaps was of the essence. There was the enticing possibility that the later runners might be disadvantaged. So when I got into the car and then immediately departed the cockpit there might have been an impression of time wasting. It hadn't occurred to me, I was more concerned about the spray of warm fuel escaping from the breather right behind my head. We ran the car briefly to burn some and cleaned up. I then went down to the start. At this time Andy Coley hadn't left the line, so as timewasting it was 'could try harder'... Maybe next time, now I've got the idea.

Anyway, I was pleased to see a 51 at last. Chris Merrick recorded exactly the same time. Martin won on a long 49, but not under the old record so only scoring 10, Scott had to make do with second, Roger third, Simon improved on his qualifying time but had to settle for fifth. Scott still leads, but has a respectable score from each round. Martin is second but has two non-scores. The game is afoot, the fox is in the hen house, the bird is in the bush, the worm is early. Thankfully the football is nearly over.

After the event the BARC send a nice leaflet with a brief report and the results, along with some split times. This is a nice touch, an advance on the usual bare results sheet. Although one of the limitations of their timing system is exposed in the 'Split Times Run 1' table containing the second runoff times. This might be a clue to the mysterious process of 'resetting the clocks' before a runoff.

It's over the sea to the Channel Islands next week for the somewhat bizarre experience of driving racing cars on wide public roads with no grip, and the welcome excesses of the Jersey commentary team followed by the technical accuracy of the Guernsey bunch. Let's hope the sun shines.

Paul


 


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