Talk about Pigs In Muck!

Hebden Bridge was bad enough last year and Yellow had sworn never to race there again, so he was happy to potter around the RTV (well set out) on Saturday. The trouble was that nobody had told “Flying Pig” about Hebden Bridge. For weeks he had been in the dog-house (garage) after a lack-lustre performance at Hameldon, where even the smallest hills sent his wheels spinning madly. Flying Pig awaited his forthcoming outing completely oblivious to the forthcoming ordeal . . . Trial By Mud!

One or two minor jobs had recently been attended to. Longer front shackles to keep the spring eyes away from the chassis and a change of starter motor to keep things clear of the prop shaft.

For those of you who missed the Hebden bridge event last year, it should be noted that “the pond” is now only half its original depth, but even so, huge amounts of WD40 were sprayed onto the electrics. For those of you who did Hebden Bridge last year, you should have known better and stayed at home!

The first run went very well. In fact it proved impossible to go any faster as the day progressed. The temp gauge crept up to just over 100 towards the end of the run. All seemed well until the water level was checked. Flying Pig had developed a huge thirst! Two litres for the first run but no sign of a leak . . . . . strange! . . . Fill it up and go again.

Here comes the pond again . . . anchors on . . . first gear . . . trickle down the banking . . . gently across . . . COUGH-COUGH-SPLUTTER-SPLUTTER! . . . Oh dear!. That WD40 must have evaporated. Lost a bit of time there but away we go.  Wow, that corner’s slippy! . . . slide around the long easy right after the gully . . . FLOOR IT! . . . Over the jump . . . Right . . . Left . . .

Flying Pig was well into the groove(s) (Ruts if you missed the pun!) but towards the end of the second circuit the temp gauge was indicating a bit of a problem. Ease off and finish with a bit less gas.

Three litres of scrounged water went into the rad this time, but still no sign of a leak. Most entries had got three or four runs in by this time, but Flying Pig had only managed two. The cooling down was taking three times as long as the run! Not to mention clearing the screen.

How would you describe the afternoon runs? . . . Challenging? . . . No! UNBELIEVABLE! Even with the tyres down to the minimum there was little steering to be had at over 10mph. But Flying pig was in his element, MUCK!. There wasn’t a great deal of gear changing to be done, and once the pool had been navigated there was just “Point it and gas it”. But back to that pool. A liberal dose of Vaseline was applied to the electrics prior to run 4 (What was a tub of Vaseline doing in the toolbox?), but it all melted off!

Run 5 and things went a bit silly. Open the lid on the line with 20 seconds to go and spray the electrics with WD again . . .  Raymond gazed on in amazement. Lots of sticks were getting knocked down as most motors tried unsuccessfully to steer around corners. The marshals faced a losing battle trying to keep motors on the course. There were motors stuck everywhere, but they still came back for more!

All told, over 3 gallons of water were added to Flying Pigs cooling system during the event. Time to scrap the Volvo rad I fear! Why did only half the entries finish? It wasn’t really damaging, you couldn’t go fast enough to break anything. Like they say . . . “When the going gets muddy, the muddy get going!”

Flying pig is now dirtier and wiser and awaits further surgery in anticipation of Tong ’93.

The Pig-Master (Guardian Angel of the 80’s)

*    *    *    *

TONG

Isn’t it amazing how quickly they come around? It doesn’t seem two minutes since I was putting pen to paper about Tong ’92 and here it is again.

Mind you, it seems like months ago that we started preparing for Tong. The old girl has had a new cross-member on, courtesy of Mr Bartram, new bolts for the roll-cage to keep the RAC and Graham happy, new prop-shaft, new swivel housing and the air intake removed from inside the cab. Honestly, it’s never been in better shape!

1 amp has spent days on his and Pete’s motor, Squirrel has been tin bashing on his steed after the last fiasco, so generally we were ready.

The last minute preparations take on a joint effort. I get all the food organised, 1 amp gets the stove and chairs. Oh, I bring some chairs as well, em! Lights, generator, and all the nagery bits together. Peter knocks up a table and washes and irons the tent. Squirrel polishes up his knife, fork and spoon.

Anyway, Friday night went as usual. We all met in the Swan for a pint or two, just to be sociable you understand, and to discuss meeting times and any last minute details.

Saturday Morning

My car went into Charlie Browns for an exhaust. Neita took it because I was going to be too busy. Pete was refereeing a football match, but he would be there on time. What I had forgotten was I had left the keys to the thunderbus in my car, so I had to wait while Neita came home to collect the old girl. Pete was late from football so we were already behind schedule.

Anyway, I was down at 1 amp’s on time. He was moping around like a bear with a sore head. Thing was, all right, he isn’t a bear, but he did have a sore head, and didn’t everyone know it!

Pete finally arrived with James and Craig. In the meantime, Barry, Neal and I had hooked up the trailer and prepared everything for loading on the van, so we loaded all the kit into the van and waited for 1 amp to emerge from the house.

I said to his daughter, Danielle; “Where’s your dad. Go and tell him we are ready”. Danielle returned and said: “he won’t be long, he’s just having a sit down and a cup of tea”. Charming! (by the way Ellen, that’s two).

Finally we were ready, “Wagons Roll!”. I set off, followed by 1 amp in his new creamy dinky toy, pulling the trailer. Pete followed with the trailer behind. I think the lads drew straws for who sat in with 1 amp. I think Barry lost. Neal sat in with me and James and Craig went in the van.

Squirrel joined us en-route and we burbled over to Tong. The journey, for once, was uneventful and we arrived at Tong around 2pm.

We found ourselves a nice camp site, not too far from the bar and not too far from the toilets. In fact we were nearer the bar than the toilets. Anyway, if the grass around our tent was longer than anywhere else, you know the reason why!

Squirrel, for the first time in years, was actually here for the raising of the big top. He had more idea than us, who have been putting it up for years, and it went up a treat.

Pete then unravelled the sleeping compartment. Well, you’ve never seen anything like it in your life. The words net curtains with holes and string vests spring to mind

“Nay bloody Hell” (Guess Who!), “I thought you said you’d inspected it”

“I had” exclaimed Pete.

“You can’t have”

“I have. The outer was alright, and this was in the same bag”

“Nay, bloody hell”

Anyway, we pinned it down and opened it up. I must admit it didn’t look like the brochure but it would do. 1 Amp liked the look of it less than us and proceeded to tear the rotten bits off. More and more gathered in his hands and in the end we hadn’t got a front.

“There”!

I must admit it wasn’t as stylish without the zippy doors and things but it was a lot more practical, especially for the night trips to the field.

We had our usual game of cricket until the bike trial was ready. Then we all trudged into the woods to watch that. I watched the first section, then went back to the tent for a snooze.

The point to point started about 7.30 pm. Squirrel and 1 amp we’re driving, with Craig and Pete sat in. I went for scrutineering for the trial, then started cooking the tea.

About half an hour into the mission, I hear the familiar sound of 2 motors returning home. I say familiar because I could only hear one engine. I thought, “Dare I look out?, Yeah why not”!. Sure enough, 1 amps motor was being towed in with pigeon toed front wheels and a silent engine.

“What’s Up?” I enquired.

“Mick has hit a tree stump, bent the track rod and burned through the fuel line. I’ve just had a fire.”

“Oh. Tea won’t be long”

It just so happened that I took a spare track rod, the fuel lines were sorted and by the time tea was ready, OVY was ready for action again.

After tea we went to the bar to mix and chat about the days events and what was on the agenda for tomorrow.

So, time for bed. We were going to have a nightcap but Pete had forgotten the Grand Marnier so, to bed it was. I was last in, as usual, an 1 amp was already buzzing away in the corner. I was in the other corner so it wasn’t too bad 

Sunday Morning

I was up by seven, just in time to see Phil Hargreaves roaring off to Anglesey. One by one our motley crew emerged and \I fed them with and egg butty and a bacon butty apiece.

The trial started fairly well on time. Squirrel had James sat in, 1 amp had Neal, Pete had Craig and I had Barry. By the way Barry, where were all the pies?

We started at section one. There were a couple of options but when the first motor poodled round the obvious way with no problems, everyone followed suit. Squirrel was the first to “err”. He slipped into the pool, just before the 3 stick. I did the same. Never mind we thought, it’s a long day yet.

Section 2 looked fairly simple but I dropped a cog and ended up bashing the 4 stick. It’s only a week ago and I can’t remember section 3 but I know I collected another 3 points. The day pressed on and I started to improve. Barry, my navigator started to get the hang of it and we progressed to section 6, all clears.

We started the afternoon’s performance at section 7. Again we cleared it and carried right through to section 12, all clears.

Section 13. Now, for those of you who did it in the morning, good luck to you. By now, however, someone had unblocked the dam and the hole after the ten stick was now a swamp. Everybody in the group was now debating whether to do it or not. Anyway, I decided to have a go because squirrel said he would pull me out and off we went. The bloke in the Range Rover decided to have a go and I said I would pull him out.

He failed just as miserably, but his motor died. The old girl did her best to pull the crate out. Lynne Oliver hitched up to the front of me and, even between us, we couldn’t pull it out.

I had another thwack at it. Thwack became the operative word. My rope snapped, it thwacked the back of my motor and nearly took my left ear-hole off.

At this point we decided to go round the front and pull him out that way. Lynne and I were hitched up together again ready to have a go when the cavalry appeared in the shape of Squirrel and 1 amp. So, with four motors on the front, we yanked him out.

What with all this thrutching and riving, I now had a very permanent oil light on. Anyway, we finished the day with one more point on the last section and a very commendable 21 points, considering we collected 9 on the impassable section 13.

Time for stew and preparation for the night comp. Lynne Oliver had kindly offered to navigate. I think she thought I was just offering her a fun ride to start with, but honestly Lynne, I get lost at night!. I really do need someone shouting the corners. Anyway, we were ready and we sat outside the tent waiting for a 10pm start. We hadn’t walked the course either because we were told that the first lap was non-competitive. Anyway, the next thing we know, there’s a revving of Landies and the first few were off!

I trundled down to the start to find Lynne wandering around aimlessly with a crash hat in her hand. I had to fit her into the harness of course. I’m not sure whether I did it twice. No, no, I don’t think I did.

“Right. Have you walked the course?”.

“No”.

“Ah well, we’ll just have to play it by ear”.

“Five, four, three, two, one, Go-o-o-o”.

Off we went into the woods. We we’re doing all right. Directions we’re coming loud and, well not too loud, and clear, well not too clear at first but we we’re getting around. Suddenly, on the open field, splut, splut. We coasted to a halt. The fuel pump had packed up. After a lot of poking and prodding, suddenly the fuel pump burst into life. We jumped in and roared back to the finish. Our time was thirty minutes! Not bad, eh?.

Lap 2. We set off with the same gusto, but this time we coasted to a halt on the back straight. Sure enough, someone was soon roaring up behind us. It was Rod Depledge.

“Move it” he shouted.

“I can’t. It’s buggered”.

“Get in and I’ll push you off” .

“You will buggery. Go and get a re-run.”.

Anyway, the old girl burst into life and we roared off to the open field where, again, it stopped, but we managed to get it dragged off the track.

This is how it went. Go 400 yards – stop, go 400 yards – stop, until finally it stopped on a tight left hander and the battery was shot out.

We pushed it as far off the track as it would go and I said to Lynne “Lets go and get drunk”

“That sounds like a good idea”

So that was my night. Two half laps and back to the bar, Steve, rob and the rest eventually joined us and a few more drinks went round. Finally we all retired. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

Monday

I was up with the larks, making breakfast. Everyone was fed so 1 amp and I went to recover the old girl. We fitted a new fuel pump and fired it up. OK, lets go!

1 Amp was complaining that he wasn’t getting full power. Squirrel had a nosey and discovered the jet or the needle valve or something was sticking, so he sorted that, then clapped his hands and went to do his first lap. I went for some petrol. Just as I reached the end of the road the old girl went Clang!, Clang!, Clang!

I turned around. First gear went, then second, then third. Looks like Tong ’93 wasn’t going to be my year. I retired gracefully and contented myself with a nice brew and a fag. 1 amp and Pete did a couple of laps and then returned to the pits with a fire, a broken fan, flapping wings, anything you want, but they patched it up time after time and finished the day first. No competition you see! I did have one highlight. Squirrel let me have a lap with him and we did a 6 min 23. Not bad, eh?

So, that was that. We all had an enjoyable weekend. I though the trial sections were good and interesting. Our marshals did a splendid job and kept everything moving. I decided to toddle off early because I had 50 miles to do with only low 4^th and high 4^th gears to play with.

So, my thanks to the marshals, the landowner, everyone who set up and helped set up, and congratulations to the winners.

Oh, by the way. Ian asked me to give him my opinion of the comp course. I thought the course was great, and so did all of the Whalley Wagon Train. I just wish I could have used it more!

Thanks also to my navigators, Barry and Lynne. And Lynne, if you are interested, I will need a navigator for November’s comp. Let me know.

See you soon  -   Clive Cocks

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