mike
12-20-2008, 07:35 AM
THE BEST MOTOR SPORT RAIDXTREME CAR, Terror attacks, violent demonstrations, a global financial meltdown the likes of which we haven't seen in a long time, it all appears to be going very wrong at the moment. So where does that leave motorsport? Is it simply irrelevant in this environment or does it have certain elements - that are arguably inherent in any sport - which can help people deal with the grim realities of life? The basic elements of any sport, and motorsport in particular, are focus and determination - both of which lead to a constructive energy. There's something very basic and primeval about competition - in this case believing that you can be quicker around a rally stage than the next guy (or girl). There's also something very freeing or liberating about sitting at the start of a special stage because
all you're focused on at that point is the stage ahead - Nostradamus could have been right about World War III but it wouldn't matter.
At the start of October this year, we entered the autoXchange Gypsy in the Xtreme category of the Raid de Himalaya for the third year in succession.
The Raid consists of three categories - Xtreme cars, Xtreme bikes and the Adventure trial. Both Xtreme categories have to contend with special stages (closed sections of road) that range from 20 to 100 kilometers in length, where the objective is to be as fast as possible - in a car with a roll cage and safety harness, it's challenging and exhilarating, but on a bike, it's downright insane. The Adventure trial meanwhile is a time-speed-distance rally where participants have to maintain predetermined average speeds over different sections of terrain. The biggest question mark before the start of the Raid this year was regarding the weather, and if the seemingly misaligned stars of the present would have an impact on the 10th Raid de Himalaya? The weather in the Himalayas is unpredictable at the best of times, but seemingly more so at the moment. A week prior to the start of the event, the rain and snow had been causing havoc in Himachal.
But Vijay Parmar, who orchestrates the event and lives and breathes the Raid, is an influential man. And he was obviously able to establish links with the weather gods that were unleashing their fury in different parts of the country. While last year we were forced to quit the rally and head back from the Patseo Army Camp on the road to Leh on Day Four, this year the weather turned out to be unexpectedly spectacular. The next biggest concern was the terrain and its condition. Last year was rough, and Leg 3 resulted in a broken radiator among a number of other things on our car. This year, since the terrain had already been lashed with rain and snow, it was anybody's guess what to expect. To prevent the front of the car from disintegrating once again this year, we cut out sections of the front fenders (where they meet the doors), and replaced them with thicker 16-gauge steel.
We also added additional braces to further strengthen the front end. The biggest concern on the Raid is mechanical reliability resulting from the absolute beating the car takes, and the prolonged periods for which it's expected to endure such abuse. And this makes judging the balance between going for quick times and saving the car an ongoing struggle. Discretion may be the better part of valour, but that becomes very hard to rationalize to yourself when you end up towards the lower half of the time sheets at the end of a leg. My first taste of the Raid was in 2006. I got to Shimla in the autoXchange Gypsy in 2006 without a clue of what to expect, with literally no experience of the terrain or conditions. My mechanic was attempting to lead the service crew and navigate at the same time since no one else was foolish enough to be seated on the passenger seat during my first attempt. Luckily, we were able to keep the car on all four wheels and stay out of trouble for the most part.
73
While there probably were some 3,000 foot drops as we had been warned, I mostly choose not to look down while attempting to keep the car on the mountain and cover ground as quickly as we could. In the end, we finished in a reasonable sixth overall and third in class (T2). Although we were denied fifth place, which is where we really finished (or so we believed), it wasn't too bad for our first attempt. We were even awarded the NL Chaudhry and Jaswinder Pal Memorial trophy for our efforts through what was a fantastic learning experience. In 2007, like all the other competitors, we weren't so lucky as the weather played spoilsport and ended the rally prematurely. The snow started as early as Day Two of the rally and eventually a storm forced us to turn back from the Patseo Army camp on Day Four. Our position on the day was somewhere towards the bottom of the time sheets thanks to a puncture on an obstacle course masquerading as a rally stage on Day One - not to mention a jack that was hesitant to perform its intended function. Following this, on Day Three, just as we started to make up some ground and overtake a few competitors, we were greeted by the unpleasant aroma of coolant spewing from the radiator.
The terrain had left our engine mountings all but useless, which meant that the engine block collided with the radiator in front of it and caused it to hemorrhage its contents on the unforgiving Himalayan landscape. This led to frequent and agonizing stops for water wherever we could find it. Suffice to say, we were hoping for better luck and better conditions on our third attempt this year. Calling the Raid-de-Himalaya just a car rally would be a grave injustice - it's a life experience. There's very little that compares with driving through the More Plains with no one and nothing in sight for as far as the eye can see. Or, for that matter, racing through a special stage of incredible and challenging driving roads to find yourself literally at lands end on the shores of the Pangon Tso at 13,900 feet. Don't get me wrong though, it's not all breathtaking views and brilliant landscapes - perhaps in retrospect. In My first taste of the Raid was in 2006. I got to Shimla in the autoXchange Gypsy in 2006 without a clue of what to expect, with literally no experience of the terrain or conditions.
My mechanic was attempting to lead the service crew and navigate at the same time since no one else was foolish enough to be seated on the passenger seat during my first attempt. Luckily, we were able to keep the car on all four wheels and stay out of trouble for the most part. While there probably were some 3,000 foot drops as we had been warned, I mostly choose not to look down while attempting to keep the car on the mountain and cover ground as quickly as we could. In the end, we finished in a reasonable sixth overall and third in class (T2). Although we were denied fifth place, which is where we really finished (or so we believed), it wasn't too bad for our first attempt. We were even awarded the NL Chaudhry and Jaswinder Pal Memorial trophy for our efforts through what was a fantastic learning experience. In 2007, like all the other competitors, we weren't so lucky as the weather played spoilsport and ended the rally prematurely.The snow started as early as Day Two of the rally and eventually a storm forced us to turn back from the Patseo Army camp on Day Four. Our position on the day was somewhere towards the bottom of the time sheets thanks to a puncture on an obstacle course masquerading as a rally stage on Day One - not to mention a jack that was hesitant to perform its intended function. Following this, on Day Three, just as we started to make up some ground and overtake a few competitors, we were greeted by the unpleasant aroma of coolant spewing from the radiator.
The terrain had left our engine mountings all but useless, which meant that the engine block collided with the radiator in front of it and caused it to hemorrhage its contents on the unforgiving Himalayan landscape. This led to frequent and agonizing stops for water wherever we could find it. Suffice to say, we were hoping for better luck and better conditions on our third attempt this year. Calling the Raid-de-Himalaya just a car rally would be a grave injustice - it's a life experience. There's very little that compares with driving through the More Plains with no one and nothing in sight for as far as the eye can see. Or, for that matter, racing through a special stage of incredible and challenging driving roads to find yourself literally at lands end on the shores of the Pangon Tso at 13,900 feet. Don't get me wrong though, it's not all breathtaking views and brilliant landscapes - perhaps in retrospect.
all you're focused on at that point is the stage ahead - Nostradamus could have been right about World War III but it wouldn't matter.
At the start of October this year, we entered the autoXchange Gypsy in the Xtreme category of the Raid de Himalaya for the third year in succession.
The Raid consists of three categories - Xtreme cars, Xtreme bikes and the Adventure trial. Both Xtreme categories have to contend with special stages (closed sections of road) that range from 20 to 100 kilometers in length, where the objective is to be as fast as possible - in a car with a roll cage and safety harness, it's challenging and exhilarating, but on a bike, it's downright insane. The Adventure trial meanwhile is a time-speed-distance rally where participants have to maintain predetermined average speeds over different sections of terrain. The biggest question mark before the start of the Raid this year was regarding the weather, and if the seemingly misaligned stars of the present would have an impact on the 10th Raid de Himalaya? The weather in the Himalayas is unpredictable at the best of times, but seemingly more so at the moment. A week prior to the start of the event, the rain and snow had been causing havoc in Himachal.
But Vijay Parmar, who orchestrates the event and lives and breathes the Raid, is an influential man. And he was obviously able to establish links with the weather gods that were unleashing their fury in different parts of the country. While last year we were forced to quit the rally and head back from the Patseo Army Camp on the road to Leh on Day Four, this year the weather turned out to be unexpectedly spectacular. The next biggest concern was the terrain and its condition. Last year was rough, and Leg 3 resulted in a broken radiator among a number of other things on our car. This year, since the terrain had already been lashed with rain and snow, it was anybody's guess what to expect. To prevent the front of the car from disintegrating once again this year, we cut out sections of the front fenders (where they meet the doors), and replaced them with thicker 16-gauge steel.
We also added additional braces to further strengthen the front end. The biggest concern on the Raid is mechanical reliability resulting from the absolute beating the car takes, and the prolonged periods for which it's expected to endure such abuse. And this makes judging the balance between going for quick times and saving the car an ongoing struggle. Discretion may be the better part of valour, but that becomes very hard to rationalize to yourself when you end up towards the lower half of the time sheets at the end of a leg. My first taste of the Raid was in 2006. I got to Shimla in the autoXchange Gypsy in 2006 without a clue of what to expect, with literally no experience of the terrain or conditions. My mechanic was attempting to lead the service crew and navigate at the same time since no one else was foolish enough to be seated on the passenger seat during my first attempt. Luckily, we were able to keep the car on all four wheels and stay out of trouble for the most part.
73
While there probably were some 3,000 foot drops as we had been warned, I mostly choose not to look down while attempting to keep the car on the mountain and cover ground as quickly as we could. In the end, we finished in a reasonable sixth overall and third in class (T2). Although we were denied fifth place, which is where we really finished (or so we believed), it wasn't too bad for our first attempt. We were even awarded the NL Chaudhry and Jaswinder Pal Memorial trophy for our efforts through what was a fantastic learning experience. In 2007, like all the other competitors, we weren't so lucky as the weather played spoilsport and ended the rally prematurely. The snow started as early as Day Two of the rally and eventually a storm forced us to turn back from the Patseo Army camp on Day Four. Our position on the day was somewhere towards the bottom of the time sheets thanks to a puncture on an obstacle course masquerading as a rally stage on Day One - not to mention a jack that was hesitant to perform its intended function. Following this, on Day Three, just as we started to make up some ground and overtake a few competitors, we were greeted by the unpleasant aroma of coolant spewing from the radiator.
The terrain had left our engine mountings all but useless, which meant that the engine block collided with the radiator in front of it and caused it to hemorrhage its contents on the unforgiving Himalayan landscape. This led to frequent and agonizing stops for water wherever we could find it. Suffice to say, we were hoping for better luck and better conditions on our third attempt this year. Calling the Raid-de-Himalaya just a car rally would be a grave injustice - it's a life experience. There's very little that compares with driving through the More Plains with no one and nothing in sight for as far as the eye can see. Or, for that matter, racing through a special stage of incredible and challenging driving roads to find yourself literally at lands end on the shores of the Pangon Tso at 13,900 feet. Don't get me wrong though, it's not all breathtaking views and brilliant landscapes - perhaps in retrospect. In My first taste of the Raid was in 2006. I got to Shimla in the autoXchange Gypsy in 2006 without a clue of what to expect, with literally no experience of the terrain or conditions.
My mechanic was attempting to lead the service crew and navigate at the same time since no one else was foolish enough to be seated on the passenger seat during my first attempt. Luckily, we were able to keep the car on all four wheels and stay out of trouble for the most part. While there probably were some 3,000 foot drops as we had been warned, I mostly choose not to look down while attempting to keep the car on the mountain and cover ground as quickly as we could. In the end, we finished in a reasonable sixth overall and third in class (T2). Although we were denied fifth place, which is where we really finished (or so we believed), it wasn't too bad for our first attempt. We were even awarded the NL Chaudhry and Jaswinder Pal Memorial trophy for our efforts through what was a fantastic learning experience. In 2007, like all the other competitors, we weren't so lucky as the weather played spoilsport and ended the rally prematurely.The snow started as early as Day Two of the rally and eventually a storm forced us to turn back from the Patseo Army camp on Day Four. Our position on the day was somewhere towards the bottom of the time sheets thanks to a puncture on an obstacle course masquerading as a rally stage on Day One - not to mention a jack that was hesitant to perform its intended function. Following this, on Day Three, just as we started to make up some ground and overtake a few competitors, we were greeted by the unpleasant aroma of coolant spewing from the radiator.
The terrain had left our engine mountings all but useless, which meant that the engine block collided with the radiator in front of it and caused it to hemorrhage its contents on the unforgiving Himalayan landscape. This led to frequent and agonizing stops for water wherever we could find it. Suffice to say, we were hoping for better luck and better conditions on our third attempt this year. Calling the Raid-de-Himalaya just a car rally would be a grave injustice - it's a life experience. There's very little that compares with driving through the More Plains with no one and nothing in sight for as far as the eye can see. Or, for that matter, racing through a special stage of incredible and challenging driving roads to find yourself literally at lands end on the shores of the Pangon Tso at 13,900 feet. Don't get me wrong though, it's not all breathtaking views and brilliant landscapes - perhaps in retrospect.