Black River Stages 2012 - Part 2
Cue the eerie theme music and replay the cliffhanger the last episode ended with...We woke up early, but not too early on Saturday. The rally itself didn't start until the afternoon, though there were meetings and such in the morning, plus we had to load up the CRX, since we hadn't the previous night due to the downpour. Kevin, Double Plus Racing's driver, made everyone bagels. The team is sponsored by a coffee shop, so there was plenty of that as well. At around 8:30 I got a text bulletin from Anders, who runs the show, that there would be a stage captain and course car meeting at 9. I hadn't known about this, but was glad I signed up for the bulletins! We had no problem getting there in time.
The meeting ran us through how everything would work. I also met the other people I'd be working with. I'd worked with some of them before, which likely helped me gain some credibility that I could actually do this job. There are three course opening cars - 000, 00, and 0. We all have basically the same job, which is to make sure each stage is set and ready to go, with marshals and caution tape in place, and spectators safely contained. Car 000 goes in first, and early. They take their time, stop to chat with people on the way, and fix issues they find. Car 00 goes a bit later and checks up on what 000 fixed. Finally, car 0 - that's me - goes immediately before the competitors start running. We travel not at race pace, but as fast as we can safely. We take one final look at the stage, and also warn everyone that the competitors are about to start. We can stop and fix stuff if we have to, but in theory this shouldn't be necessary. After we finish the stage, I call in on the ham radio and declare the stage ready to run. That's right - the running of the stage is entirely dependent on my OK, and nobody goes until I say so! That's a small power trip. :)
There were nine stages on Saturday. They were actually three stages, and we would repeat them three times. We'd literally be driving around in a big loop, driving three stages, returning to service, then doing it again, and again. We'd be running into the night. I remember running Concord Pond at NEFR at dusk, but I'd never seen or run a night stage before. The map light wasn't working, but I'd rigged up a clip-on light to do the job. After that meeting we had some downtime before the general volunteer meeting at 11, so we took the time to review, in detail, the rally computer. This is a crucial piece of equipment. With only the route book and no stage notes, this was how we would know when certain turns and obstacles, like bridges and jumps, were coming up. I would compare our current mileage to the book, and call out ".5, double caution, small yump, then yump." I'd repeat this at .3, .2, and .1, then again when it came into sight. This way Rich could slow down and make sure we made it onto the bridge, or gently floated over the jumps instead of catching big air. Beyond the stages, I'd also tell him how to get from one stage to the next. This would be interesting, since neither of us actually knew the area, so we'd be totally reliant on the book and my skill reading it to not get lost. Remember that part where a stage can't run without my OK? Yeah. No pressure. :)
We hopped into the CRX and went to do our odometer check. This is a short drive where we compare our measured mileage to what the book says it should be, then calculate a correction factor to make the computer accurate. This didn't go too smoothly. It was unclear exactly where we were supposed to start. The route went down the main drag, then turned onto a side road and ended. This road was a loop that brought us back to the main drag, and it was unclear which of the two left turns onto it we were supposed to take. We ran it both ways, and the discrepancy was the same amount in opposite directions each way. We made our best guess, and figured we'd refine it as we went on. Again, the book didn't have directions to the start of the rally in a nearby town, but we followed car 000 down there and found the service area. There are scheduled stops to wrench on the cars throughout the rally. We had no crew of our own, and technically didn't need one, but the Double Plus guys extended their hospitality to their service van, where we stowed Rich's tools, spare parts, light pod, etc. It's good to know where these things are.
Then we moved on to Parc Ferme. This is a fancy phrase for a car show of all the competitors. It gives people a chance to check out all the cars before we start running and they go spectating. We hung out there and chatted with folks for a while. Then we left early to head to SS1, Jerdan Falls. I can't remember much of what led up to the stage, as my brain was full of trying to navigate us there, getting used to the computer, figuring out how Rich liked to be given directions, and generally wanting to not screw up. I heard on the radio when cars 000 and 00 had gone through the stage. We were next. Soon the bikes (yes, dual-sport motorcycles) started to arrive. Rich and I strapped in, put our helmets on, and made sure our intercom was working. Net control gave us permission to go, and we were off!!!
I'd ridden in race cars before at autocrosses, rallycrosses, and track days, so I'm no stranger to being a passenger in these conditions. But this was different. I couldn't just sit back and enjoy the ride. I had to watch the mileage increase on the rally computer, keep track of the instructions I'd marked to call out to Rich, and make those calls at the appropriate times. I didn't bother with the radio at this point - my job was to co-drive. That said, there were sections with 2-3 miles between notes, so I could look around a little. Rich drove a good pace, as fast as he could based on what he could see. A good rally driver drives beyond what they can see, but we didn't have the notes to let him do that, so he drove smart. All too soon, we crossed the finish, and the wild ride was over. Once we were done giggling like little girls, I called in to net control, declared the stage ready to run, and the rally officially began. We, however, we're already on our way to the next stage. On the way there I heard the sad news that Eric - the guy who had brought me into this event and whose crew I left for this job - was out of the rally with a blown engine on stage 1. Ouch.
At SS2, Tidd, while waiting for our clearance to enter the stage we were slowly swarmed by paramedics. One of them politely asked if she could show off the car to the others, so that they'd know what they were up against in a potential extraction scenario. We were glad to give them a look. Rich even told them exactly what kind of tubing he used in the roll cage. There was certainly more medical staff than necessary on most of the stages. I think most of them were really into the racing and just wanted an up-close look. Our base of operations was the Harrisville Fire Hall, for crying out loud. :)
Tidd went more smoothly than Jerdan Falls, as I was getting used to this co-driving thing. I was learning to compensate for the odometer error we still had, and giving the instructions I needed to give. Rich continued to drive well - briskly, for certain, but within the limits, which was helpful when we came to an unexpectedly tight and slippery section. "Make a note of that," said Rich. I noted the mileage and "tight and slippy," enough for me to remember this section the next time around. We finished, I called in that the stage was ready to run, and we moved on to Texas.
That's Texas Road, not the state. The transit was a little more tricky, with several turns close together, but we got through it. I only got a tiny bit lost once, and made notes so that it wouldn't happen again. In a few places "spectators" waved at us, and we waved back. People along the transit route were having parties and just watching all the cars and bikes go by. Sounds like fun to me.
Texas was another short, technical stage. There were a few bridges, but most were plainly visible, so even though I called them out Rich could see them in plenty of time. The stage went smoothly, and then it was back to service. We didn't need service, but we did pull into the Double Plus Racing service area, stretched our legs, and attached the light pod. It would be getting dark, and we may need it before the next service, especially in the woods. We were out of the loop on the sandwiches being delivered to the stage workers, but the team gave us some yummy meatloaf sandwiches. These guys took great care of us. There would be no more new stages today, which made my job a little easier. I still needed to do it, but I wouldn't be figuring out where to go for the first time myself.
As we drove Jerdan Falls for the second time, I saw a Subaru on its roof by the spectator area. I hadn't heard anything about this on the radio, so I could assume the occupants were OK. And they were. After the rally I found this video of their dramatic crash.
It's a good example of just how hard a hit a rally car can take while the occupants walk away. A bit later, during our transit to the next stage, I heard the combo car - sweep for the bikes but ahead of the cars - calling for an ambulance for a fallen rider with a possible broken leg. The cars were delayed, and an ambulance sent in and out instantly, after which the rally resumed. I must say, I have a ton of respect for the bikers. They've got balls the size of the moon, and I include the two female riders in that sentiment, figuratively. :)
The lights came in handy the second time through Texas, and as the sun finished going down we returned to service. Again, no issues, so we stretched, ate the second half of our meatloaf sandwiches, and pressed on for lap 3. As we waited for our third trip through Jerdan Falls, there was a report on the radio of an ATV bombing up and down the road. This was bad. These roads are completely closed to the public. Yes, there are hours between passes, but the road is closed the entire time. Uncontrolled traffic is a very dangerous situation. In this case, it was the second report of ATV activity, and within seconds they announced that they were canceling the stage. Car 0 was to slowly transit through the stage, stop, and tell all of the spectators what happened and why. So off we went on our less fun errand. People were bummed, for sure. One of our stops was a group of three ATVs on the right. Rich asked if they'd been bombing up and down the road. They denied it, but we didn't believe them. Later, talking with the Anders about it, he said that he'd been through there a little while before us, and saw two ATVs on the left side of the road. Clearly they'd moved, becoming unauthorized traffic in the process.
Meanwhile, the net was coordinating a plan to head the competitors off at the pass and send them directly to Tidd rather than make the side trip through Jerdan Falls at low speed. This plan was immensely successful and saved a lot of time. However, that meant that we had to haul ass to Tidd to open the stage as quickly as possible. We caught up to car 00 doing the same and convoyed. Net control kept checking up on our progress, and seemed pleased with our results.
The bikes arrived at Tidd before us, but the delay wasn't too bad. Car 00 took off immediately, and as soon as he was clear we took our run. This was our first pitch dark night stage, and it was fun. Everything went well for us. Not so much for the Evo who had gone off in the exact loose twisty section Rich had me take a note of the first time through. The car was sticking out into the road a bit, but the warning triangles were well placed, and everyone was being told of the hazard at the starting line.
The party on the transit to Texas who had waved at us the first time waved a green flag at us the second time through. This time the guy jumped up and down waving the flag wildly as we passed. Clearly the intoxication level had been on the rise all night. But what the heck. He wasn't going anywhere, he was having fun, and no one was getting hurt. Party on, dude. Still, I couldn't resist a brief siren blast as we went by. :)
Texas went fine, and then we went back to service to let the competitors catch up to us. We were done for the night, and we had done well. So was Double Plus Racing, who was first in their class. But the most impressive part was that with all the fast AWD cars bailing out, they were in first place overall, in a two wheel drive non-turbo Subaru!
It was time to go back to the cabin to get some sleep - and then the CRX wouldn't start. It would crank, but not fire. Rich suspected the distributor, which is a weak point in these cars. Easy fix, though. I've replaced them myself. But that wasn't it. Jesse, who had also left Eric's team for a co-driver gig, wandered by, and suggested the fuel pump. (Jesse's a mechanic.) He climbed into the hatch, pounded on the pump, and the car started, briefly. Good to diagnose the problem, but bad because we couldn't get another fuel pump late Saturday night and replace it by the time we had to run on Sunday. The Double Plus team descended on the car to help, but that's what it came down to. We ditched the CRX there and caught arise back to the cabin with the crew. It had been a great day, but naturally our spirits were down at the prospect of being out of the rally ourselves...
The meeting ran us through how everything would work. I also met the other people I'd be working with. I'd worked with some of them before, which likely helped me gain some credibility that I could actually do this job. There are three course opening cars - 000, 00, and 0. We all have basically the same job, which is to make sure each stage is set and ready to go, with marshals and caution tape in place, and spectators safely contained. Car 000 goes in first, and early. They take their time, stop to chat with people on the way, and fix issues they find. Car 00 goes a bit later and checks up on what 000 fixed. Finally, car 0 - that's me - goes immediately before the competitors start running. We travel not at race pace, but as fast as we can safely. We take one final look at the stage, and also warn everyone that the competitors are about to start. We can stop and fix stuff if we have to, but in theory this shouldn't be necessary. After we finish the stage, I call in on the ham radio and declare the stage ready to run. That's right - the running of the stage is entirely dependent on my OK, and nobody goes until I say so! That's a small power trip. :)
There were nine stages on Saturday. They were actually three stages, and we would repeat them three times. We'd literally be driving around in a big loop, driving three stages, returning to service, then doing it again, and again. We'd be running into the night. I remember running Concord Pond at NEFR at dusk, but I'd never seen or run a night stage before. The map light wasn't working, but I'd rigged up a clip-on light to do the job. After that meeting we had some downtime before the general volunteer meeting at 11, so we took the time to review, in detail, the rally computer. This is a crucial piece of equipment. With only the route book and no stage notes, this was how we would know when certain turns and obstacles, like bridges and jumps, were coming up. I would compare our current mileage to the book, and call out ".5, double caution, small yump, then yump." I'd repeat this at .3, .2, and .1, then again when it came into sight. This way Rich could slow down and make sure we made it onto the bridge, or gently floated over the jumps instead of catching big air. Beyond the stages, I'd also tell him how to get from one stage to the next. This would be interesting, since neither of us actually knew the area, so we'd be totally reliant on the book and my skill reading it to not get lost. Remember that part where a stage can't run without my OK? Yeah. No pressure. :)
We hopped into the CRX and went to do our odometer check. This is a short drive where we compare our measured mileage to what the book says it should be, then calculate a correction factor to make the computer accurate. This didn't go too smoothly. It was unclear exactly where we were supposed to start. The route went down the main drag, then turned onto a side road and ended. This road was a loop that brought us back to the main drag, and it was unclear which of the two left turns onto it we were supposed to take. We ran it both ways, and the discrepancy was the same amount in opposite directions each way. We made our best guess, and figured we'd refine it as we went on. Again, the book didn't have directions to the start of the rally in a nearby town, but we followed car 000 down there and found the service area. There are scheduled stops to wrench on the cars throughout the rally. We had no crew of our own, and technically didn't need one, but the Double Plus guys extended their hospitality to their service van, where we stowed Rich's tools, spare parts, light pod, etc. It's good to know where these things are.
Then we moved on to Parc Ferme. This is a fancy phrase for a car show of all the competitors. It gives people a chance to check out all the cars before we start running and they go spectating. We hung out there and chatted with folks for a while. Then we left early to head to SS1, Jerdan Falls. I can't remember much of what led up to the stage, as my brain was full of trying to navigate us there, getting used to the computer, figuring out how Rich liked to be given directions, and generally wanting to not screw up. I heard on the radio when cars 000 and 00 had gone through the stage. We were next. Soon the bikes (yes, dual-sport motorcycles) started to arrive. Rich and I strapped in, put our helmets on, and made sure our intercom was working. Net control gave us permission to go, and we were off!!!
I'd ridden in race cars before at autocrosses, rallycrosses, and track days, so I'm no stranger to being a passenger in these conditions. But this was different. I couldn't just sit back and enjoy the ride. I had to watch the mileage increase on the rally computer, keep track of the instructions I'd marked to call out to Rich, and make those calls at the appropriate times. I didn't bother with the radio at this point - my job was to co-drive. That said, there were sections with 2-3 miles between notes, so I could look around a little. Rich drove a good pace, as fast as he could based on what he could see. A good rally driver drives beyond what they can see, but we didn't have the notes to let him do that, so he drove smart. All too soon, we crossed the finish, and the wild ride was over. Once we were done giggling like little girls, I called in to net control, declared the stage ready to run, and the rally officially began. We, however, we're already on our way to the next stage. On the way there I heard the sad news that Eric - the guy who had brought me into this event and whose crew I left for this job - was out of the rally with a blown engine on stage 1. Ouch.
At SS2, Tidd, while waiting for our clearance to enter the stage we were slowly swarmed by paramedics. One of them politely asked if she could show off the car to the others, so that they'd know what they were up against in a potential extraction scenario. We were glad to give them a look. Rich even told them exactly what kind of tubing he used in the roll cage. There was certainly more medical staff than necessary on most of the stages. I think most of them were really into the racing and just wanted an up-close look. Our base of operations was the Harrisville Fire Hall, for crying out loud. :)
Tidd went more smoothly than Jerdan Falls, as I was getting used to this co-driving thing. I was learning to compensate for the odometer error we still had, and giving the instructions I needed to give. Rich continued to drive well - briskly, for certain, but within the limits, which was helpful when we came to an unexpectedly tight and slippery section. "Make a note of that," said Rich. I noted the mileage and "tight and slippy," enough for me to remember this section the next time around. We finished, I called in that the stage was ready to run, and we moved on to Texas.
That's Texas Road, not the state. The transit was a little more tricky, with several turns close together, but we got through it. I only got a tiny bit lost once, and made notes so that it wouldn't happen again. In a few places "spectators" waved at us, and we waved back. People along the transit route were having parties and just watching all the cars and bikes go by. Sounds like fun to me.
Texas was another short, technical stage. There were a few bridges, but most were plainly visible, so even though I called them out Rich could see them in plenty of time. The stage went smoothly, and then it was back to service. We didn't need service, but we did pull into the Double Plus Racing service area, stretched our legs, and attached the light pod. It would be getting dark, and we may need it before the next service, especially in the woods. We were out of the loop on the sandwiches being delivered to the stage workers, but the team gave us some yummy meatloaf sandwiches. These guys took great care of us. There would be no more new stages today, which made my job a little easier. I still needed to do it, but I wouldn't be figuring out where to go for the first time myself.
As we drove Jerdan Falls for the second time, I saw a Subaru on its roof by the spectator area. I hadn't heard anything about this on the radio, so I could assume the occupants were OK. And they were. After the rally I found this video of their dramatic crash.
Click to viewIt's a good example of just how hard a hit a rally car can take while the occupants walk away. A bit later, during our transit to the next stage, I heard the combo car - sweep for the bikes but ahead of the cars - calling for an ambulance for a fallen rider with a possible broken leg. The cars were delayed, and an ambulance sent in and out instantly, after which the rally resumed. I must say, I have a ton of respect for the bikers. They've got balls the size of the moon, and I include the two female riders in that sentiment, figuratively. :)
The lights came in handy the second time through Texas, and as the sun finished going down we returned to service. Again, no issues, so we stretched, ate the second half of our meatloaf sandwiches, and pressed on for lap 3. As we waited for our third trip through Jerdan Falls, there was a report on the radio of an ATV bombing up and down the road. This was bad. These roads are completely closed to the public. Yes, there are hours between passes, but the road is closed the entire time. Uncontrolled traffic is a very dangerous situation. In this case, it was the second report of ATV activity, and within seconds they announced that they were canceling the stage. Car 0 was to slowly transit through the stage, stop, and tell all of the spectators what happened and why. So off we went on our less fun errand. People were bummed, for sure. One of our stops was a group of three ATVs on the right. Rich asked if they'd been bombing up and down the road. They denied it, but we didn't believe them. Later, talking with the Anders about it, he said that he'd been through there a little while before us, and saw two ATVs on the left side of the road. Clearly they'd moved, becoming unauthorized traffic in the process.
Meanwhile, the net was coordinating a plan to head the competitors off at the pass and send them directly to Tidd rather than make the side trip through Jerdan Falls at low speed. This plan was immensely successful and saved a lot of time. However, that meant that we had to haul ass to Tidd to open the stage as quickly as possible. We caught up to car 00 doing the same and convoyed. Net control kept checking up on our progress, and seemed pleased with our results.
The bikes arrived at Tidd before us, but the delay wasn't too bad. Car 00 took off immediately, and as soon as he was clear we took our run. This was our first pitch dark night stage, and it was fun. Everything went well for us. Not so much for the Evo who had gone off in the exact loose twisty section Rich had me take a note of the first time through. The car was sticking out into the road a bit, but the warning triangles were well placed, and everyone was being told of the hazard at the starting line.
The party on the transit to Texas who had waved at us the first time waved a green flag at us the second time through. This time the guy jumped up and down waving the flag wildly as we passed. Clearly the intoxication level had been on the rise all night. But what the heck. He wasn't going anywhere, he was having fun, and no one was getting hurt. Party on, dude. Still, I couldn't resist a brief siren blast as we went by. :)
Texas went fine, and then we went back to service to let the competitors catch up to us. We were done for the night, and we had done well. So was Double Plus Racing, who was first in their class. But the most impressive part was that with all the fast AWD cars bailing out, they were in first place overall, in a two wheel drive non-turbo Subaru!
It was time to go back to the cabin to get some sleep - and then the CRX wouldn't start. It would crank, but not fire. Rich suspected the distributor, which is a weak point in these cars. Easy fix, though. I've replaced them myself. But that wasn't it. Jesse, who had also left Eric's team for a co-driver gig, wandered by, and suggested the fuel pump. (Jesse's a mechanic.) He climbed into the hatch, pounded on the pump, and the car started, briefly. Good to diagnose the problem, but bad because we couldn't get another fuel pump late Saturday night and replace it by the time we had to run on Sunday. The Double Plus team descended on the car to help, but that's what it came down to. We ditched the CRX there and caught arise back to the cabin with the crew. It had been a great day, but naturally our spirits were down at the prospect of being out of the rally ourselves...