- Event Location:
- The Weald Site
- Event Format:
- punch with 2 Special Stages
- Organisers:
- Jeremy and Simon M
- Winner:
- Stodd
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I always sleep well after a days off roading, something to do with being really tired. I usually really sleep in a tent too. Not sure why that is. I didn’t
get much sleep on Saturday night though. For a start, I didn’t actually go to bed until Sunday morning. And I have a hazy recollection of still joining in
with the conversation going on outside every now and then, but I don’t know if I made any sense or not.
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The first thing I remember being aware of in the morning was the sub-zero temperature of my arm. Bringing it back inside my sleeping bag I tried really
hard not to be awake, but it was no good. It was light already, and I was hungry (no change there), and I needed a wee (no change there either). To my surprise,
by the time I had run both my errands, a few more people were up and about. I had visited the bushes first to prevent me, in my early morning confusion, from
urinating in the back of Si’s car whilst rummaging for food.
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Fortunately one of the first people awake was Jeremy who was making noises about breakfast. So I returned the crisps to the boot of the car and awaited the bacon
sandwiches. The smell of cooking brought everyone else out of their tents and suddenly the day was alive. Having pilfered one of the first bacon butties I set off
for the scrutineering area and badgered Si into looking over my car. One by one the vehicles which had stayed over night were checked again in case the cows had
been busy with their screw drivers whilst we were asleep, and after a while some more competitors who hadn’t made it the night before turned up too. Scrutineering
and signing on went by in a blur, and we just finished the paperwork in time to listen to the drivers briefing at 9.30
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The day’s event comprised of 35 punches scattered over the site, each with a CD hung near it which was worth bonus points, and two special stages. Once again our
plan was to be where everyone else wasn’t, but we found ourselves following Alex and Stu round a field which didn’t appear to have any punches in it at all.
After turning round and heading in the opposite direction for a while, we ended up following team zook. Ian and Andy stealing all the CDs we could see. In
desperation we dived into the woods. There were punched everywhere, all still with their discs too. This is where stage two of our plan was put into effect.
Whilst I looked at how best to get the truck to the punches, Stoo was running round collecting all the CDs he could find, making sure that even if we weren’t
first to the punch, we would still get the bonus points. We picked up five or six punches in quick succession and paused to think about where we were. The truck
was getting hot again by now, so the heater was beaten into life and all excess clothing removed before we set off again, towards an area which had been
closed off the previous night.
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Shortly afterwards the competitive red mist descended and we were on fire again, every punch we found had a CD on it and none of them taking more than a few
minutes to get to. It would be an hour or so before we saw anybody else, and the anybodies we saw were Ian and Andy again.
“Stop” Yelled Stoo.
As the truck lurched to a sudden halt, I enquired as to the reason for this outburst, but Stoo was already out the door and running towards Andy’s car.
Ian too was gesticulating in Andy’s direction, and thinking something was wrong I started to get out the truck myself. Without even trying to slow down
Stoo ran straight into a tree and then ran away again, leaving a confused Andy and a frustrated Ian staring at an empty branch where moments before a CD
had been hanging. Feeling pretty sure we had exhausted everything the woods had to offer, we headed back into the fields and picked up a few more punches
before found ourselves waiting for someone else everywhere we went. With the temperature gauge pressing ever higher and time ticking on we decided to
have a crack at the blind fold driving
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Starting out of the vehicle, both driver and co-driver had to run 3 laps each round the truck in opposite directions, before getting in and starting the
engine. Then the driver had to manoeuvre the vehicle down a course and perform a parallel park whilst wearing blacked out goggles, all the while guided
by a co-driver who was wearing beer goggles. When the truck had been successfully parked (and I use the word successfully in its loosest of terms) the
driver then had to get out, run round to the passenger side of the vehicle and get a punch on the punch card before getting back in and driving out of
the section without hitting any tape. It was hilarious.
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I had instructed Stoo it would be his job to avoid me whilst we were running round the car as he could see, all be it only just. Things were going quite well;
even the parallel park wasn’t too bad. But then I can’t ever see anything out the back of my truck, so the blacked out goggles weren’t much of a hindrance at
that particular moment in time, and Stoo is quite used to being drunk anyway. Our problems didn’t start until the very end of the section. As the disco was way
too big to turn around in the taped off area, we were backing out, and I reversed over the tape and one of the stakes in the ground earning us a penalty. DOH.
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With not much time left before lunch the decision was taken to do the second special stage and then try and find out where the rest of our punches were whilst we ate.
Special stage two was another taped section with 500 points going to the fastest team round the track. There were also two more difficult sections along the way worth
250 points each if you completed them. To add to the fun we had another hindrance, Stoo’s door was refusing to open so he was climbing in and out of the window, but
it didn’t slow us down. The rules said both occupants had to be belted in at the start and finish, and all recovery kit had to be stowed on the vehicle when the timer
was stopped. Having devised a plan we bought the tree strop into the cab so Stoo could run away with it quickly. I drove the first part of the course and stopped nearly
long enough for Stoo to jump out the window so he could run to the far end of the section and set up the strop, whilst I navigated the first tricky ditch crossing. All
I had to do was make it to where Stoo and the tree strop were without getting stuck. Luckily I made it. We had decided not to bother trying to drive the vertical,
slippery exit from the stream and winched straight out. All that was left to do was reach to finish gate without running Stoo over. He was, of course, there long before me.
Throwing himself in through the window, wearing the tree strop and fastening his harness so the timer could be stopped. What a rush. Definitely time for some food.
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We headed back to base to hand in our collection of CDs and try to extract from Jezz the whereabouts of the remaining punch we had yet to find. We actually needed four,
but knew where three of them where. Of course nobody would tell us where the illusive punch eight was, so we ate, and waited for 1.30 so we could leave again.
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Stoo and I sat talking, we had our work cut out. Graham and Jeff only needed two more punches. Feeling pretty confident we knew where we had to be, we set off in a
hurry and picked up punches nine and ten straight off. Adamant that number eight couldn’t be far away we both ran round scrutinising the trees and bushes. When I
eventually found it I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had seen punch eight earlier, but ignored it because it was tied to the same tree as one of the punches from the
evening before. Had my mistake cost us the win? I called Stoo over, who stood holding the punch ready to stamp the card. He would have to be quick, the tree was
on a steep slope, and there was a chance the truck might not come to a complete stop. I inched the disco forward until the punch would reach the right square on
the card, and luckily it held on the brakes whilst Stoo stamped it, the letting the brakes off I rolled to the bottom of the hill. Stoo ran to join me and, out of habit,
pulled the door handle. His door opened. Hooraah. We had one punch to get, we knew where it was, and the car seemed to be healing itself. The heater still didn’t work,
but a few swift kicks brought the fan motor into life and we roared off back into the woods.
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We had come across punch twenty four already, but had decided to leave it, because when we where there Simon’s 90 was perched on a side slope. The only thing preventing
it ending up at the bottom up-side down was a strop round a tree and hooked on to the rear winch, whilst Alex and Stu arguing about how best to get it down without killing
them selves.When we got back there now, the only other living thing was a squirrel. He wasn’t much help, but at least he hadn’t hung a car in the way. Not wanting to end
the day shiny side down, we decided to winch up the hideous slope from the bottom so there was no chance of slipping sideways.
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Within a few minutes we were heading back to Jeremy to hand in our card. Had we done enough? Was it quick enough? We rounded the hedge row and skidded to a stop in the camp site.
The green 90 of farmer Fuller wasn’t there. Had he finished and cleared off to taunt us? Stoo tore the card off the truck and handed it to Jezz, who confirmed we were first back.
22 minutes had gone by since we left after lunch. Literally 2 minutes after us Graham and Jeff roared into the camp site coming an extremely close second.
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Our hard work done, it was time to start poking the larger lumps of cow poo off the truck with a big stick. I don’t remember being so tired after an event for a very long time,
but it had been an incredible weekend. Everything ran smoothly (apart from our heater), and everyone had a brilliant time. The spirit of the weekend award has to go to Jeff,
who broke his car beyond the means of field repair on Saturday evening, provided laughs along with red wine and cheese and biscuits on Saturday night, and then joined Graham
on Sunday and helped him to take second place.
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Well done and thanx to everyone who came along.
Stodd
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