| Maine Forest Rally
December 3-4, 1993
Rumford, Maine
It wasn't shaping up to be a good event for us. My turbo-ized Dodge
Omni, which had run so well in June down in Pennsylvania, had developed
a mysterious engine problem that left it with almost no power, and we
didn't get that tracked down and fixed until just 4 days before the
event, which meant that most of my usual pre-race preparation work
didn't get done. Then I hit a tree while practicing 2 days before the
event, smashing 2 of the driving lights and bending the bumper, fender,
and right front control arm. It wasn't hard to fix, but now I was even
further behind, and time was running out. Some tasks, including
replacing the broken lights, would have to be skipped, and hopefully
we'd get by OK without. I finally got everything all packed and loaded
onto the trailer by 1:00AM the day of the rally. As I pulled out of my
driveway seven hours later, it occurred to me I'd locked myself out of
my house.
I picked up Rick, my crew chief, in Concord, NH, and we continued on up
to Maine. We pulled into the Madison Hotel in Rumford around 1:30PM,
unloaded our gear, and registered for the event. Included with our
competitor's package were 2 beer mugs with nifty PRO Rally graphics on
them; obviously the organizers knew who they were dealing with! Plus,
they were selling copies of Tom Grimshaw's new biography of John Buffum,
"In Like A Lamb, Out Like A Lion", which looked great, so we picked up a
couple copies of that. So even if we didn't finish, we'd still have
goodies to bring home- would this be our consolation prize, or was our
luck starting to turn around?
I'd just barely met the minimum requirements to be ranked as a Seed 3
driver based on my last two finishes (there are seven seeds, lower seed
numbers are faster), but I needed to finish 15th overall or better to
keep that ranking. That can be tough to do when you're putting an
eight-year-old econobox up against a field filled with expensive 4WD
cars like Audi Quattros, Porsche Carerra 4s, and Mitsubishi Eclipses,
not to mention Carl Merrill's $250,000, 400HP Ford Cosworth Escort.
Fortunately the field was small, with only 26 entries, so with normal
attrition numbers, if we didn't finish too far back, it seemed there was
a reasonable chance we'd make it. We needed to finish, though, and with
me feeling as unprepared and accident-prone as I did, I was not feeling
very confident. I reminded myself that my best finishes came when I
drove conservatively, and if there was any correlation there, that was
good, because I planned to drive VERY conservatively this time.
We were placed 14th on the road as we headed out of town that evening
for the logging roads of the Seven Islands Land Company. The ground was
bare and the weather had been warm, but puddles were beginning to
freeze now, and ice on the course seemed likely. It looked like we were
doing the smart thing by running the Hakkapeliitta snow tires instead of
the rally tires we'd brought along in case the roads turned out to be
mostly hard dirt.
To my surprise and dismay, the first stage was nearly a solid sheet of
ice, much worse than I'd expected from driving the (salted) roads
leading out there. At least we'd made the right tire choice, but still
the conditions were incredibly slippery! The only places there would
ever be traction was on open straightaways, where the areas of
hard-packed dirt would tempt us to build up some real speed, only to
find ice again when we wanted to slow down, and in the corners beyond.
The intense turbo boost was making it even harder to keep control, and
since I was having trouble getting the car to turn in, I drove very
slowly. Before the short 6.5 mile stage was over, the headlights of the
car that started a minute behind us were becoming visible in my mirrors.
Groan! I didn't realize I was going THAT slowly! Ted, my co-driver,
reminded me that we were running with a faster crowd now than what we
were used to, and the guys up front here with their high-buck 4WD cars
weren't governed by fear like the rest of us were. They didn't care
that much if they wrecked their cars, because they could afford to
replace them and chaulk it up to a learning experience. But my little
Omni, as modest as it may be, is all I can afford, and if I totaled it,
it would probably be quite a while before I could race again. With
fourteen hours of competition still left to go, I was already having my
doubts about whether I belonged in Seed 3.
The second stage was a lot like the first. Lots of ice and frozen ruts,
some snow, me driving slowly, and headlights in the mirror before we
were even close to the finish. When I saw those damn lights again I
realized I was driving like a wimp. I knew that I was supposed to be
racing, not just going for some drive in the woods, and it occurred to
me I could probably be going a lot faster. I stepped on it. I couldn't
quite outdistance my pursuer, but he didn't seem able to get any closer
than about a hundred yards, either. There's nothing like being chased to
make you get off your duff! I didn't want to take a lot of crazy
chances and end up whacking a tree, but we were keeping it on the road
for the most part, and it felt OK. I kept up the pace for the next
stage, and we never saw the headlights.
The fourth stage was 25 miles long, which is very long for a rally
stage. Long stages can be real adventures, not only because there is
more road to have an accident on, but also because the one minute
starting intervals between cars become small relative to the variation
in individual teams' speeds, so there tends to be more interaction
between competitors in terms of cars catching and passing each other,
cars getting stuck in the same ditch at the same time, cars stopping to
help other competitors, and things like that. On most stages you never
see another competitor except for at the start control, and as you make
your way down these remote dirt roads at night, it's easy to feel like
the two of you in the car are the only people around for a hundred
miles. It may sound kind of funny, but when you start seeing lots of
other rally cars on the road, you realize you're all out there in the
middle of nowhere together, and it brings out a real camaraderie that I
don't think you find in most other forms of racing.
Things went real smoothly for us this time, though; we caught and passed
two cars, and passed a few more broken down on the roadside or resting
on their roofs. Of the twenty-five teams that completed this stage, we
had the seventh fastest time on it. The last stage of the night was the
same road as our first, but run in the other direction, and we posted the
eighth fastest time on that run, a big improvement over being eighteenth
on the way in.
The car was running great, and aside from an electrical problem that
caused the high beams to go out for one-and-a-half stages, all we needed
at the service stops was to clean the windshield and lights and check
the oil. We got back to Rumford a little after midnight and checked the
car into impound for the night.
Saturday morning we were up early to check last night's results, and
they had us listed as 9th overall! They were also showing us with three
minutes of penalties, which was wrong, and we got it removed no problem.
Without the penalty, they put us FIFTH on the road for the daylight
stages! Let me tell you, we never expected anything like this! As we
rushed to join the lineup for the restart, Ted directed me to pull in
in front of a Mitsubishi Eclipse and Carl Merrill's Cosworth Escort.
The Eclipse driver was NOT pleased with this development. As we nosed
in, he lurched forward to try and keep us out. Discrimination against
American cars! Ted compared our starting time with theirs, and they
grudgingly let us ahead of them. You could really see the red mist
building in the driver's eyes as he sat in line behind us, looking at
our plain gold paint job and the "I may be slow, but I'm ahead of you"
bumper sticker on the rear hatch. John Buffum was at the starting line,
and he poked his head in the window at us and said, "OK guys, what's
your REAL time?" We said what do you mean, you guys gave us this time,
so here we are! We departed on our minute, but we got the feeling that
Buffum would be personally checking our scores. We took it as a
compliment.
On the transit out to the first stage, Ted checked their math, and it
looked like our total was actually 2.4 minutes slower than what they
had us down as, so we really should have been ninth, not fifth. So we'd
have at least four drivers behind us who were faster than we were, and
at least one of them was pissed!
The first stage Saturday was the only one of the whole weekend that
wasn't ice covered. I flogged the little Omni for all it was worth and
felt great doing it, but we could only manage eleventh fastest on the
stage. I was happy not to see the Eclipse come into the finish control
before we pulled out.
Then it was back to the ice and snow, and an 11.5 mile stage. We may
have been pushing it a little, as we had several near crashes. Most
memorable was when we crested a hill at about 60MPH and the road went
left, but the trees had all been cleared from the downslope straight
ahead, so we couldn't see that the road turned until we were already
going off it. I pitched the car sideways and mashed the gas, but
although we were basically travelling parallel to the edge of the road
(while pointed perpendicular to it), the dropoff on the side was getting
sharper as we slid along, and the driver's side wheels were bouncing off
the ground. It was starting to look a lot like the beginning of a
high-speed rollover when our arcing path intersected the road again and
we bounced back up top and hammered it on out of there.
With only two stages left in the event, we agreed to back off a bit to
make sure we finished. Even if we lost a few places, we would still
have a Top 10 finish, which was better than we had dreamed of, so it
made sense to save the car and be still be smiling at the awards
banquet. This we did, but others must have had the same idea, because
we still came in tenth fastest on each of the final two stages. We
checked in on time to the final control, drove back to the hotel, and I
started mentally preparing my victory speech.
When official results were posted, we were eighth overall and third in
Open class for the National event, second overall and second in class
for the Divisional event that ran concurrently with the National on
Friday night, and fourth overall and second in class for the Divisional
that ran Saturday. (We missed third place on Saturday by three seconds!)
There wasn't much in the way of money or trophies for us or for anyone,
and they didn't put us in front of a microphone, but we did get plaques
for our second place in Friday night's Divisional. Then I won a
certificate for 4 free Michelin passenger tires (not rally tires -rats!-
any size for 13, 14, or 15 inch rims) as a door prize, so it was an
excellent event in terms of how many goodies we walked away with. Oh,
and John Buffum autographed our books for us!
So even though I really can't say I enjoyed the racing itself, with what
I thought were just about the trickiest conditions possible, we did come
away with a great finish and some great stories!
Carl
P.S. I even got back into my house without breaking anything.
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MAINE FOREST RALLY
December 3-4, 1993
Radio Support -- A first year report
Mike, N1DKZ, and I (Scotti, N1PUI) first heard about the Maine
Forest Rally in September when we did our first public service work
since I'd gotten my ticket in July at the Cycle to the Clouds bicycle
race up the Mt. Washington auto road. There was a sign-up sheet for
later events and the next one was this auto rally. It would begin in
Rumford, Maine and take place on the logging roads and public highways
around the Rangeley Lakes area beginning about 6 PM on December 3 and
ending with a banquet back in Rumford on the evening of December 4.
Spending the weekend in the back woods of Maine in December sounded like
fun so we signed up.
Over the next couple of months, we made contact with Ian MacLennan
AF1R, the amateur radio coordinator for the rally, and Erik Piip, KA1RV,
who had been there last year, to get information on exactly where and
when the rally would take place. We also got much helpful information
on what we needed to take with us -- essentially enough clothing and
food to survive 24 hours in cold and snow if necessary. It was decided
that we'd meet Erik for breakfast on Friday morning and caravan up to
Rumford with him.
Ian suggested that we make reservations at Oquossoc's Own Bed &
Breakfast in Oquossoc, Maine, since it would save us about an hour's
worth of driving after our chores were done Friday night. It seems that
the owner, Joanne Koob, had allowed him to set up his radio net control
on her dining room table for the past three years. We called there
right away, and it was a good thing we did, as there was only one double
bed left. It turns out there are 5 rooms, with varying numbers of beds
in them. We got the only one with just one double bed.
For a week before leaving we were packing the car. Storm coats
for each of us, felt lined rubber boots, insulated coveralls (found in
the attic and they fit), electric cooler with juice, water, oranges,
tunafish, peanut butter and jelly, and a dozen bagels, turtlenecks,
sweaters, jeans, sweatpants, wind pants, long johns, waterproof wind
jackets, snow boots, street shoes, hats, gloves, scarves, ear muffs, and
general essential clothing. We had two of most things so that if we got
wet, we had dry clothes to change into. We made arrangements with Jim
N1HTS and our next door neighbor to get our animals fed while we were
away.
Finally, Friday morning arrived. About 7:00, we headed for The
Ground Round in Chelmsford to meet Erik and Jim, who had gotten me
involved in public service right after I got my ticket. Our first radio
contact of the morning was Erik telling us he was running about 20
minutes late and please order him coffee and whatever we were having for
breakfast. We ordered him the coffee.
8:30, breakfast over, we said good bye to Jim, picked out a
simplex frequency, and pointed our noses north. Erik needed to find a
hat so we stopped in Kittery at the Trading Post and at Eddie Bauer. No
hats. Headed north once more. Got to Rumford by about 12:30 so we had
plenty of time to find a place for lunch before the 2:15 meeting. The
next problem was FINDING the lunch place. About a half mile from the
Madison Motel where the meeting was to be held we found a Chinese
restaurant serving a lunch buffet. Once again, we overate somewhat.
But, after all, we were going to spend the better part of the night in
the woods. Who knew when we'd get to eat again.
Arrived at the Madison in time for the meeting, got registered and
got our wrist bands, maps, and VERY pink "Emergency Radio Support" signs
for the car windows, and the list of frequencies we'd be using. These
included four simplex frequencies for the four teams of hams, a cross-
band repeater frequency to contact Ian, and a local repeater which we
had permission to use in case we couldn't make direct contact. There
was also one lone ham sitting on top of a hill somewhere manning the
cross-band repeater and calling out the ID every ten minutes. Ian also
told us that there would be a banquet in Rumford on Saturday night but
that he really recommended that we stay in Oquossoc since the food was
better and it really wasn't worth the 45 minute drive down and back just
for dinner. We took him at his word and planned not to attend the
banquet.
Each group of hams -- there were about 20 of us total -- met with
their corresponding SCCA group to decide who would be at the start,
middle, and finish of each stage. For about 30 cars, there was total of
nearly 200 people -- drivers; navigators; support/rescue; SCCA starters,
checkers, and timers; and the hams.
The various planning meetings over, we were assigned our position
-- flying finish of Stage 4 for Mike and me -- and caravaned up to
Oquossoc. We had some time so we went over to the B&B and met Joanne
(the owner) and got registered. Took our indoor clothing up to our room
and headed back to the general store to meet the rest of the finish-line
team and headed up to the end of Stage 4 so we'd be ready for the
expected 9:00 PM start to the stage. Erik and the Stage 4 Start and
middle teams had gone up the other way with the Stage 3 team because
Stage 4 was the longest one of the rally (25 miles of logging roads).
Let me explain here a little of what this rally is all about. It
is an SCCA Pro Rally, the last in the 8-event 1993 Subaru Championship
series. A field of about 32 or so specially modified Audis, Fords,
Porsches, Sirroccos, etc. run timed courses over sections of Boise-
Cascade logging roads, interspersed with sections run over public
highways which must be kept within the legal speed limits. At the start
of each "Stage" or section done on the logging roads, the cars are
checked in, drivers and navigators make sure they have their "clue list"
(my term), and then they are sent out at approximately 2 minute
intervals. As each car leaves the start, the ham operator radios the
car number to the ham operator at the finish, sometimes with the help of
someone in the middle to relay the transmission. Then, as the cars
cross the finish line for the stage, the radio operator there checks off
the number. If a car has been reported as starting but not reported at
the finish, a safety team goes out and tries to find them. After all
the cars have left the start, an official with radio contact with state
police, EMTs, fire, etc, goes out to make sure all cars and their
occupants are found.
About a mile in on the logging road, our little caravan of about
10 cars stopped. We thought we had arrived at our point, but were told
that no, this wasn't the finish, someone had had a flat and we'd be
moving again in a minute. Sure enough, about 2 minutes later, we were
moving again. AAA should take lessons in tire changing! Just as we
finally arrived at our assigned point, Erik came on the air to say their
end of the Stage set-up was slightly delayed. One of the workers in
their caravan had hit a moose and had had to be taken back to Rumford.
We found out the next day, her truck had just about been totalled, the
moose had had to be destroyed, and she'd suffered cartiledge and
ligament damage to her thumb. A somewhat ominous start to the evening's
activities, I thought.
Meanwhile, we'd arrived and were told to back about 20 - 30 feet
down another logging road so that we could see the cars but not be in
the way. It turned out we were manning the "Flying Finish" point. We
got backed in along side the official timer and made preliminary radio
contact with Erik at the start of the stage. Then the safety team man
came along and told us to back up another 6 feet or so. We did.
Jim N1HTS had loaned us his amp which we hooked up to my DJ-F1T
hand-held, with the 1/4 wave mag mount on the trunk. That radio we kept
on the cross-band repeater to Ian. My brand-new Yaesu FT-2400, with the
5/8th wave mag mount on the roof, was kept on the simplex frequency used
for the stage (we went to HRO the previous week to buy a bracket, and,
well...but that's another story). I had more cables, wires, and mike
chords around me! Looked like the rat's nest you usually find in your
shack -- and, after all, my car IS my shack.
At 9:03 PM, Erik came on the air that the first car, Car #1, was
away. The Stage had begun! We still had a half hour wait till we saw
the first car but were still kept busy logging cars as they started. A
little after 9:30 we heard the first car coming and then suddenly he was
up and around the turn and buzzed in for time at the finish, fishtailing
all the way. The next two cars I had logged didn't show up. The fourth
car came around the corner and did a 180 degree spin and went through
the timing point backwards. He finished his spin so that he got to the
checkpoint headed in the appropriate direction. The next car tried to
widen the turn just a bit and wedged between two trees. A few
spectators got him out and he finished the stage. A few more cars
fishtailed but managed to hold the road. Then one came along and took
the turn sideways and slid across the end of the road we were on and
merely "parked" the car at the edge of the road for a couple of seconds,
then finished. Finally, the car who had started second came through, a
little the worse for wear, but roaring along. He fishtailed nicely into
the checkpoint. In total, only 4 cars didn't finish the leg. One guy
managed to get himself out of trouble and drive the car out on his own
after the stage was closed, the second car had some kind of trouble
early on in the stage and, we surmised later, because he was so far down
in the standings he stopped to help out the fourth missing car, the
third one had to be towed out, and the fourth one had to be righted
first. He'd flipped off the side of a bridge and landed on his roof in
the creek. Out of all of these accidents, and the ones where the cars
were merely delayed into the finish, there were no injuries.
We got back to the B&B by about midnight. Joanne had given up and
gone to bed. Ian was still in the dining room directing radio
operations for Stage 5 which was still in progress. Erik was still out
in the woods helping to right the car on its roof and make sure all
others were out. We went to bed.
We found out from Erik later more of the details of Stage 4. Car
#17, which was actually a small pick-up truck, had to be pulled out of
the ditch he'd landed in on about an 80 degree angle. They replaced a
flat tire and drove themselves out. The car on its roof in the creek
had popped its windshield but the people were out and ok. The navigator
was wandering about saying, "This ain't fun no more, second time this
year in ditch upside down." The sweep/rescue truck managed to do a spin
himself -- that's a 22 foot truck on a 23 foot wide road. They made it.
Then they had to pull another car out of a ditch. Found that he had one
flat and wanted to drive it back to Rumford himself -- about 40 miles on
a flat. He didn't do it. Erik finally made it back to the B&B about
1:30 in the morning.
Saturday morning we arose to an absolutely spectacular breakfast.
All home-made, including the bread, and as much as we could eat. It
turned out that, in those 5 rooms she had, Joanne had managed to put
about 15 or so people! Plus a couple came over from another house where
they'd been put up when Joanne ran out of room. At 10:30 AM we headed
back to the general store to go out to Stage 8. This time Mike and I
would be Start. Erik would be somewhere in the middle, and I never did
figure out who was at the finish.
We got to the start, which was farther along the same road they'd
been on the night before. In fact, as we passed the side road where
we'd been, I could see the two oblong bare spots where our cars had
warmed the ice enough to melt it. We got to Start and got inundated
with about 25 carloads of spectators and press people. The majority of
them were taken up farther along the route to a safe spot to watch Stage
8 and where they could walk to the end of Stage 9. We spent the time
trying to repair radio communications. We were at the bottom of a hill
on one side and finish was the bottom on the other side. It turned out
we had to move to the Saddleback Mountian repeater frequency along with
Erik and he could relay to the finish for us. That was when I found out
that they could not start the stage until we had communication. It felt
kind of good to know that we were considered that important.
All of a sudden, I was told I had 5 minutes to find a convenient
tree if I needed to because the first car was due. Sure enough about 5
minutes later, there it was. Dirty, slightly banged up, #1 somewhat
mud-covered but readable. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5 "KA1RV this is N1PUI" 4, 3
"N1PUI KA1RV" 2, 1 "Car #1 is away!" Every minute or two for the next
half hour I was busy relaying car numbers as they sped off. When the
next-to-last car was waiting to go, we got the word from Ian that we
were supposed to go to Stage 9 Finish as soon as we had the course
closing and sweep vehicles out of there.
OK, we'd follow the ambulance. Fine. We followed him along the
logging road that had been used for Stage 4 in one direction and Stage 8
in the other; and followed him -- right up to 3 miles from the start of
Stage 9! He had no idea where 9 Finish was. We got turned around and
headed back to finish. My car is not sprung for this! In the meantime,
another ham filled in so that they could start the stage. We never did
get there. They had started and he was handling it fine. We decided to
get out of there before the rally cars started to transit out. We got
back to the B&B about 4:00 and listened to the finish in the dining room
with Ian. Then he took down his antenna and packed up his gear. Before
saying good bye to Joanne, he made reservations for next year. So did
Mike and I and so did Erik who had arrived about 5:00. Ian was going to
the banquet in Rumford. The other three of us were not.
Once all quieted down again, Joanne asked us if we really wanted
her to cook for us. She doesn't usually cook for one or two guests and
sounded really reluctant. She would if we really wanted to but if not,
she would probably go over to the local restaurant herself. The four of
us went over together. Just as we were leaving the house it began to
snow. We walked over there like the best of friends, not like a hotel
owner and her guests. We had an absolutely fantastic dinner. With all
the great cooks we ran into in Oquossoc, I don't see how anyone in that
town keeps their weight down! We were told at the Four Seasons that
they'd served 96 lunches that day and I didn't hear how many dinners the
night before. The middle of Oquossoc was the service stop for the cars.
When we left the Four Seasons, there was about an inch of snow on
the ground and it was coming down fairly steadily. Not stormy, just
quiet, beautiful flakes drifting down. Then Erik, Mike and I just hung
around the living room watching a movie on the VCR, and Joanne went back
to her rooms and relaxed. Mike and I went to bed about 9:00, Erik
sometime shortly thereafter. A perfectly relaxing end to the weekend.
We were very glad we'd decided to stay in Oquossoc.
Sunday morning we found about 5 inches of snow. It was the type
that stuck to all the tree branches and turned the whole place into a
fairyland. I grabbed my camera and got some pictures of the B&B and the
Christmas tree that Joanne had put lights on the day before. After
another of her unbelieveable breakfasts, we settled up and said good bye
to Joanne, picked out our simplex frequency, and headed back south. We
decided to go down Route 16 through New Hampshire. Before we got out of
Maine, I took about 2 rolls of snow pictures. I just kept looking
around for Santa's workshop. It sure looked like the right place for it
with all those snow-covered Christmas trees. We came down through Mt.
Washington valley through more spectacular views. Erik said good bye
and headed down Route 111 toward home and Mike and I headed on down to
Billerica. We picked up the repeater and said hi to a couple of folks.
We were pretty tired but had had a really fantastic weekend being very
useful and having a lot of fun in the process. I can't wait for next
year! Or the next event to come along. Oh, yes, we read in Sunday's
paper that Car #1, driven by Paul something had won. For us, however,
the winner was not important. What was important was that no one was
hurt and everybody had a great time.
Scotti Fuller
N1PUI
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