MOUNT TABOR EVENT

A REPORT FROM THE CLERK OF THE COURSE

Saturday 7th March 1992

Now for anybody who has not been to our house (Oh the
comments I could put in there!), the road to Halifax is a mile up a
1:7 narrow width road with a double S bend in it. We have an under-
standing that whoever goes up first (always me!) stops the traffic
coming down, so that the wide vehicle can have a clear run (you've
never had a clear at anything). Off goes Rob first (hero), so me thinks
(lie), a nice clear run to the top of the hill. Round the S bends, flat
out in first gear, when suddenly this Citroen appears (well it was early
in the morning). Now my lack of skill in reversing a trailer is legendary
(now there's an understatement), but could she (it had to be a woman]
find reverse? NO! Panic sets in, I am going to have to reverse. Five
shunts and ten minutes later I'm back at the bottom of the hill, only
scraping the wall once (didn't he do well!!) Up the hill again, no
problems this time, to be met by a red faced Rob (Sorry Steve). After
this upset we had an uneventful trip to the site.

Full of enthusiasm I spot a section immediately and it is marked
out and finished within ten minutes. This is easy, me thinks, we'll be
done by dinner time. Looking around (he was lost), no new sections
are obvious, and my inspiration just disappears (well it was a cold
wind), so we're back to Rob's method (I'm not going into that) of
banging in some sticks and finding a start and a finish (seems a reason-
able idea to me). Noon and we had only done three sections. Mean-
while, Dave McGiven appears (like magic) suggesting we try driving a
section he had set out. Well, the end was impossible, the middle bit
dangerous and the start was impossible (so it was O.K.?), but it looked
good, so we (what's this we bit?) gave it a try. Through the 12 stick
and up to the axles in smelly S- - T (as usual). Thankfully Michael
Chaloner was strolling about in his 100" coiler and offered to retrieve
us. As soon as the rope was off I gave it another go (he never learns),
but the result was the same (we told you) - well I was just trying to
make some ruts - Michael. We gave that bit up, changed the start and
it made a good section. Four sections done, time for lunch.

After a liquid lunch, no food on a Saturday at the pub, it seemed
a lot easier to find sections and another three were soon knocked off.
Across comes David (bless him) to say he'd got another one to try. No
problem until the last few gates (you always have that problem).
"Down THERE?" says I. He just grinned through that black beard of
his (well it's not Carol's). Well to cut a long story short (good), I nose
dived into the bottom (whose?) and couldn't move backwards or
forwards (it figures). Keith Normanton dragged me out after ten
minutes of valiant effort. The front propshaft had come out of the
splines, forced the gearbox back, and the hand brake was locked on
solid (I doubt whether Graham will believe that!). Along comes Rob
(hero), big hammer job and everything slides back into place.

David and crew volunteer to do two more sections, so we go off
to do our last two. Up onto the far end of the quarry, up the hill,
BANG (You were shot?). The accelerator cable has snapped (again).
Another bodge job (S Oliver special), two sections done and time to
go home (I missed the football match!)
Sunday 8th March 1992

God has answered our prayers (what a couple of new Rangies full of
women? No) it's a fine day, with loads of marshals and over forty (yes
you are Steve) entries - a great start to the day. A quick look around,
everybody seems to be enjoying themselves, so I leave Rob to take some
photos (aren't I versatile?) and I'm off to repair the motor with the
able help from Dean (crawler).

Then came the news that some drivers were getting 12's on Section
1. Now I'm a firm believer (hallelujah!) in wide sticks (they are all 2"xl"]
so what the hell (woops) is going on? Watching some motors go through
with three feet to spare (please can I have one), 1 put it down to bad
luck or bad driving and leave Gary, as the marshal, to collect any abuse
(and put it in a bottle).

Lunchtime brings the news that Duncan Smith has rolled over.
Happily, neither Duncan nor the motor seemed to be badly damaged
and he admitted that it was his own fault. Having grabbed an early lunch
Rob and I (that's better - me first) gathered in the sticks from the eight
morning sections. The afternoon seemed to be fairly uneventful except
for the unfortunate Steve Taylor, who broke a finger whilst driving
Glen's motor. Now, most of you will know Glen broke his thumb a
few months ago in the same motor, so I am firmly of the opinion that
it was not the fault of the section, but that this motor bites back when
it has had enough mistreatment.

Many thanks to Dave and Carol McGiven, John Atthews and Co,
who, as well as setting out four sections on Saturday, did bring one set
of sticks back in the afternoon, which meant that Rob and I had to
lift the remaining three, making it 11 out of 1 2 on the day. Shame on
the rest of you!!

Not wishing to finish on a sour note, I would like to thank every-
body who helped on Saturday (where were you Boss?) and for so many
marshals on Sunday. It does make the event run so much better and
made my job so much more pleasant. Finally, I would like to thank all
the drivers who entered. It makes giving up a weekend to set out far
more rewarding when there is a large entry, so please carry on support-
ing future events, especially in May at Sowerby (Expert/Novice and
Ladies Trial), when yours truly will be back as Clerk of the Course
again.

Thank You                    Steve Oliver

P.S. Congratulations to John Firth for having all clears for the second
successive trial, but don't worry John, we will try harder next time.

Thanks Steve for writing that report, 1 really enjoyed editing it!!
It's OK, you don't have to thank me for all my help, I know it was
just a small omission on your part - but it would have meant so much
to me to have seen my name in print!

Ed.
Now that report did not take Steve long at all. He did the lot whilst
cleaning the kitchen and doing the ironing (his household chores). It
took me about 3 hours to correct his spelling and punctuation.

So all you people out there get pen to paper and let's have some
more input into the mag.

Ed.

MOUNT TABOR

Well it's a long time since I put pen to paper. It would appear that
some people are actually missing my chapters of inane drivel.

I'll start by filling you all in on what's happening on the W.W.T.
front. The old thunderbus has been resting in the barn, but should be
ready for Hameldon. Squirrel has put an automatic gear box and a
flat cap on his thoroughbred. 1 Amp, as you all know, lias sold his
motor to Martin Johnson, and is building a new Series 1 80". Note,
it is not his old one, it's a brand new project.

Pound Puppy is still waiting to see if dust will pile up to a height
of 12" on 1 Amp's motor, but there is a rumour that Pete, 1 can do
etc etc, might be buying it.

That's about all that's happened in the pits, so let's get on with
the tale about Mount Tabor.

Our story starts on the Saturday before. 1 Amp, Pete and Squirrel
with their respectives, went out for a meal. Neita and I couldn't make
it, so we left them to it. Arrangements were obviously made for Sunday
morning, having had no contact I decided to go on my own in the car.

As luck would have it we met en route fairly early into the
journey. They stopped for petrol, so I stopped to see wliich way they
were going. "We'll follow you, that short cut you know", they assuming-
ly remarked. I felt like telling them to find their own short cut, but
as I am a kind-hearted sort of a bloke, I decided to crawl along in front
to show them the way.

The short cut meant turning left at Luddendenfoot and up the
twisty hill. I thought God, I hope Squirrel can negotiate the Range
Rover and trailer round the two hairpins at tlie top or I'm in deep s-t.
No problem, and we arrived a little late, but nevertheless raring to go.

I parked the car and had a wander round. Martin was there and
asked if I wanted to double enter. I agreed enthusiastically and signed
on. 1 Amp was going to sit in with Squirrel. Pete and PP, as you have
gathered, didn't bother turning out. Pete was probably running round
a football pitch and PP was probably still in bed. So what's new, I
hear you ask.

Anyway to the first section. Squirrel burbled off and seemed to
be doing alright, but cross-axled between the 1 and 2 stick. Martin
quickly followed and did the same trick. Great, I thought (all's fair in
love and war and trialling) maybe I can go into the lead at this early
stage. Not a chance, I did exactly the same thing. Roars of laughter
erupted from the trio and the Marshal said "Do you think they are
pleased about that?" "Yeh".

On to the next, me first. It looked fairly straight forward, so off
I went. All went well until I roared up the hill to the finish, poked it
through the 2 and 1 stick, then the damn thing rocked on to the 2 stick
"That's a two" the Marshal sternly remarked.
"Ney BL."
"Two"
"O.K."

Two points behind already. I thought I must be a bit rusty. Never mind
I'll carry on.

The morning got a little better and I started to clear a few. Then,
I can't remember which section it was, but 1 set about it, my only
concern being the ending. Not so, I was quietly burbling along a ridge
of mild undulations and suddenly the bloody thing dug its nose in it
and I stalled it. Thank Christ those two weren't watching, I thought.
Not so, there in the distance the familiar ear wagging was in full swing.

We carried on without many more hiccups, that was until we did
the section in the bomb hole. 1 looked at it from the start and decided
to do it without walking it. It wasn't just as mild as it looked, but I
scrambled my way to a clear. Martin attacked it with the same confi-
dence.He didn't hit the hill right and ended up nearly on his side.
"Oh, never mind" I chorkled, that's 4 points".

Shortly after that we had lunch. We had four more sections to
do after lunch. 1 think from memory Martin collected a couple more
points, 1 remained unscathed.

Last section. We watched a few through and surprisingly some
people, even experienced nut cases like Glen McKeith fouled up on
the, I think, seven stick.

Martin set off and cleared that area, but caught the 1 stick.
Whoopee! Now we were both level on 9 points. All 1 had to do was
clear it and I would have beaten him (more clears).

Off I went and slid along the same route as Glen. Never mind, it
didn't matter anyway, smart Alee Squirrel only had 6 points and took
the trophy.

Let's get ready for the Point to Point. It has been some time
since the dynamic due ropemen, Cocks and Coonan, have been seen
together helping their drivers to another victory in either a Point to
Point or Team Recovery.

Well as I said earlier, Pete was off playing football and of course
Martin now owns the 'Red Peril'. So a new team had to be created.

Squirrel was still driving of course, and Martin agreed to partner
him. 1 Amp took on the new role of ropeman for Squirrel and I was
to assist Martin in his first Point to Point.

We fixed our meshes and selected two ropes. One for me and one
for 1 Amp, or so I thought. A time of 1 hour was agreed upon and
we all sat ready for the off.

Beeeeeep, off we go. Squirrel and 1 Amp led because they said
they knew the way. We blasted our way around and picked up a few
sections. The first time we had to use the ropes was where the prob-
lems started.

Martin shot to the far side of the section ready to pull Squirrel
out. I jumped out like lightening and was ready with the rope. As soon
as Squirrel arrived I attached the rope. Martin yanked him out, a bit
over-enthusiastic, I thought, and dragged Squirrel about twenty yards
across the field. Never mind, 1 unhitched Martin and he roared round
to the section. 1 Amp casually strolled out of Squirrel's motor. I gave
him one end of the rope, he attached it to Squirrel's motor and I
waited for Martin. In the meantime I had the card marked. Martin
arrived, Squirrel yanked him out, 1 Amp unhitched Squirrel's motor
and left the rope trailing from Martin's front bumper along the floor.

Now you may have noticed that Martin's motor, designed and
built by 1 Amp, has no room for a rope in the back. So on top of the
rope I already had, I was now blessed with another 3 miles of uncoiled

snake on my lap, and I had to look after the card as well. I
bundled myself in as best I could and bawled at Martin to follow
Squirrel, who had roared off over the horizon.

Anyway we persevered and finished our first half of the card. The
second time around seemed to go a bit better, but 1 Amp still had this
reluctancy to pick a rope up after a section. In fact the only time he
did pick a rope up he lost his driver. That didn't seem to create any
gusto in him either. Off he casually strolled to the awaiting Squirrel
(what did he say when he got in Mick?)

On we went 'till Squirrel yelled  “Is that irt?” – see Mick you should hold the card

"No" I replied, "We haven't done ten".

We roared around and eventually found Section 10, but we had already

done it, but hadn't had the card marked (see Mick, I can't do everything)

"Right, full card" I yelled, "back to Joy".

At this point Squirrel decided he's going on a country run.

"Back to Joy" I bawled.

"I'm trying to find her" he replied.

New card, off we go again. We ploughed our way through the rest
of the event uneventful, apart from Martin nose diving into a ditch.
Eventually we finished with 45 sections completed.

Glen and Rod had completed 50 sections, so they took 1st place.
Although it was a consensus of opinion that some of their tactics were
not by the rule book, these infringements, in our opinion, were not
punished severely enough. Anyway, just to show I'm not a bad sport,
I wish them well. Well done. Glen and Rod aaaaaaand, come back Peter,
all is forgiven, or possibly you team up with him next time and see
what you think.

Thanks again to the Landowner, the Marshals and everyone who
helped to make a nice day great. Thanks to Martin for the ride and
congratulations to all the winners.

See you all at Hameldon.

CUve Cocks

MERRISON REVUE

I did write an article about 8 months ago, but my dad edited it and
filed it (lost it).

So here we go, Stackstead in '91, I didn't enter the trial 'cos I
was Beecham's (ill). So I watched my dad make a hash of a couple of
sections. Brain fade must run in the family, he just missed two gates
completely!! When he finishes he then gets stuck and dents the motor
getting out (something we both do very well). To round it all off, the
Landrover refuses to start - wonderful! Now when a Landrover breaks
down about eighty five people emerge from nowhere to offer advice
on how to fix it. Eventually it started and a good day was had by all,
complete with ruddy red face.
Now the biggy - TONG

Yes, the Mecca of Comp Safaris. We arrive early and get scrutineered.
Then 1 disappear, I had the idea of walking the course - about 45 mins
later I arrive back well tattered!!

So we get in the Rover on the start line with "course knowledge'
(Ha Ha). In other motoring circles people talk about tyre choice and
how crucial it is. 1 made roughly the same mistake by going round in
high ratio-sound.

I realise my mistake when nearly every other vehicle passes me.
I think I stopped to let Kevin Baldwin by, but he brakes, carries
straight on and smacks me up the behind. So I eventually get to the
final straight and on the last bend the thing wouldn't go - it had come
out of high ratio!'.

The next run was just as eventful. A quarter of the way round
the battery moves and shorts out against the cut-out switch. By this
time I am a bit annoyed and I launch into the "Basil Faulty hit it
with a stick gag", if you don't start I'm going to hit you. So off I go
and fetch a lump of wood and smack the s--- out of it. IT WORKS!!

Off we go, only for the same thing to happen, this time it
flattens the battery, in a place where no one can pass easily - nearly
stopping the course and pulled the bumper off Steve Oliver's light'
weight. He was not a happy man. So we have a rest and then set off
again, I'm doing pretty well until I arrive at a backlog of traffic, some-
one had rolled near the first stream. Off once more, following Kevin
Baldwin, passing him on a straight, sound - yes this is what it's all
about. Round the corner, through the stream and nowt!
Won't go, nothing. I then abuse the Rover by calling it nice names
and hitting it. Eventually looking up I see twenty-oddpeople looking
down on me. I think the words gob smacked says it all. That was all
for me that day.

I'd like to thank Michael Chaloner for setting out the course. A
lot of trees!! I hit a lot of them, the man must have a hand in a Land
Rover spares yard from the look of most of the Rovers coming out of
the forest. A good day was had by all. My dad got lumbered with
starting the motors off. He looked a little cold!! Must also give a
mention to Mark, my brave co-driver Richard and my dad Gordon.

Missed a couple of events because I've been camping - in February,
Yes it was cold - so I do two daft things.

Just one note. Can we do Scout Moor in the summer, 'cos it's
very cold racing round in the mist AHHH!!

Thanks for having us

Rob & Gordon Merrison

OUR FIRST SEASON WITH YOU "HEADERS"

As we have just paid for our second membership to the "Pennine" I
thought I would write a short recap of our first year.

It all started when we took Alton's, my partner in grime, road
going K registered diesel Land Rover onto a small quarry and scared
ourselves stupid. I very gallantly said that I would put some money
toward a roll cage, petrol, spares etc etc if we were to go trialling (bad
move - very bad move). So we went looking for a cheap roll cage, I
found one, but there was only one catch, it had a completely wrecked
Land Rover connected to it (Yes it ran, but quite how we never found
out) and the whole lot cost £400. In an extremely impulsive moment
I was convinced and we bought it (Alton can be very persuasive when
he wants to be). The date - March 29th 1991.

The whole thing was stripped down to chassis, bulkhead (extremely
bad condition), engine, gearbox and wheels and then the work began.
We couldn't afford a new chassis so we patched it up, same with the
bulkhead, and then rebuilt the whole thing just in time for Scout Moor
(April 21). A very early morning to finish the rebuild and load it up
onto a borrowed trailer and we were off, I wonder how long we'll last.

What a day, it rained, Alton's Land Rover broke down as we towed
the racer up to the site, but we were there and raring to go. Through
scrutineering with a big sigh of relief and then "What on earth do we
do now?" (Thanks to Raymond we found out). A toss of a coin decided
that Alton would drive the familiarisation lap and off we went. One lap
later I was a whiter shade of pale and Alton was satisfied that he'd
been able to keep up with the Big Boys. The comp was on and we
were trying as hard as we could, but why did people keep passing us?
And how on earth do you get 1 1/2 tons of Land Rover airborne? Dinner
break came and so did the realisation that the handbrake was stuck on
BIG OOPS. We finished all 10 laps with minimal injury, the exhaust
fell off, the dash board fell out and fused everything and we were wet
through - GREAT FUN. I towed the Racer back with my father's
Cavalier (I'll not tell if you don't).

During the rest of the year we made it to Hameldon, overheating
problem and slipping clutch and broken down trailer. Tong, Alton
rolled it and got a 3rd place in class (Swine) and I hit a tree (Hard)
during the night comp. We seriously thought we were out of Land
Rnvsrins for good until morning, when we could assess the damage,

Retired. Stacksteads, fuel pump and fuel vaporisation problem,
managed two sections each. Stacksteads 1992 Alton finished 5th,
me 8th (out of 8 in class). That's it, but at least we're still running.

Hope to see you all a little more this year, but we'll have to wait
and see as we are both getting married in the summer, me to Deb and
Alton to Lynne. Our motor is the clapped out looking one with the
ghastly orange roll cage, Lynne and Deb sat in the comfy seats and
me and Alton tinkering underneath with something else which has
gone bang.

David Rudland (220)

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