THE RETURN OF THE "WAZ"

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear NO evil.
Whoever wrote that obviously had never been to Haggate, on a very, very
cold and bleak February morning!
On with the show-
It all started when I swopped my luxurious Granada 2.0 litre GLi for a Transit
van. (What's he on about? I hear you say). Then I swopped the Transit for
double glazing, a stone fireplace, and some Dosh. Then I had no means of
transporting my lads Quad and my Montesa. So what happens next? Read
on, read on.

Sarah, (Yes, you all remember Sarah, my long suffering wife), suggests that
I get "ANOTHER" Landie. Wow, who am I to argue with my superiors?

So off I trots and sells the lads Quad and part x's the Montessa for an old

(shall we say "well used") SIII, 1972. And then it all comes rushing back

(no, hadn't had a curry!). To keep her happy I carry on doing up "Yet another house". And to keep me happy. I mess with "Old 72".

Word soon gets around that I have got "another woman" (I call old 72 that

cos it can be a right "BITCH" at times) and its: "Hey Waz, do you fancy

helping to set out a trial at Haggate?" Yes, you guessed — me old mate Mono Mit.

We arranged to meet up at the site at about 9-9.30, which we did. But as

usual, or as usual as I can remember. No "Hoss Box yet". So we couldn't

do much, apart from amuse the wife and child. When Phil and Hoss Box

did arrive, we could not get the damned thing open. Much to the amusement

of the "Little Party" (Paul and Ross, the children). Having eventually got

the thing open, we loaded up with wood things and set off to set up some

sections that we had spotted earlier.

Things were soon like the "old days". Me hitting Mono on his knee with

the lump hammer and Sarah wandering off with the Landie. This time,

however, we had a new element to contend with — Gareth's eldest, Stephen, who promptly found every mud hole on Haggate. Much to the displeasure of Mono.

On with the tale:

We noticed in the distance that Mr. Bury had condescended to grace us with
his presence. Well! when all said and done. he was the Berk. OOPs. sorry!
Clerk of the Course. So we continued on our merry way. Paul and Ross were
fighting in lumps, I carried on hitting Mono with the hammer, Stephen kept
on bugging his dad and Sarah kept on wandering about, then Paul (the

little S__) find's a sheep's skull and promptly sticks his fingers into the
eye sockets and proclaims, "We haven't got one of these at Nursery, Dad."
(I can hear you all now! He's just like his dad!).
We had one or two "Hairy" moments, shall we say (If you went to Haggate
you'll remember section 1). But for Gareth's sheer brute (and I mean brute) strength, old 72 would have had a very modified hard top. Still, we had a great day, messing about and stuff. Mono and me set out sections 1-6, so if there were any complaints? "TUFF TITTY".

We decided enough was enough and said our 'Si Thi To Moan' and bade
our farewells to Andy and Co.

On our way down the track we spotted a very nice private reg (which shall
remain undisclosed to protect the innocent) Peugeot, parked nicely off the
side of the road (or so they thought?) Coats up at the wide windows, rest
of the windows all steamed up. Sarah suggests: "Shall we stop to see if they need assistance!! They might be 'out of petrol' ". I DON'T THINK. It's a good job they chose Saturday and not Sunday, otherwise we might not have had as many turn up!

Sunday morning.
Shall I take my big padded suit? I ask myself No, its not as cold as yesterday!

I have never been more wrong except when I once had a Vindaloo after half
a bottle of dark rum (but that's a different story).

I, (I say I because Her and Him were going to a birthday party. Lucky sods), arrived on site at about 9 a.m. to find a small gathering of people already there. We couldn't get into the 'Hoss Box' and had to climb over through the small back door (no mean feat as I only have little legs. I got the section markers and socks for sections 1-6, and set off to re-stick sticks and sort out.
By now Mr. Mono had appeared and we finished off and went to claim our
free pen and our Orange Vests, which incidentally, I took to wear inside
out (says it all really). It was at this point that I had begun to wish I had
brought my big padded suit. It was getting really cold and bitter to say the
least! All the old (and some new) faces were milling around and as usual
in Pennine circles, came the: "We thought you were dead": "I thought you
had buggered off to Nepal again", etc., etc. It's nice to be missed. Nice
bunch the Landie Lot.

Having taken the P— (yes, you'll have noticed I miss out the swear words)
out of Dave Rogers and hard top — remember section 1 — we set off to
get ready section 6 and awaited our first motor — and waited — and waited.
Now, section 6 was a tricky little number but both Mono (with his floatations) and myself (with F.U.T. — think about it) had driven it. So there.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, a tricky little number with what looked like
an easy start up a slope, over two humps (no, not Karrie laid down), down
a slope, up a little "step", down a gully, on through a bog and finishing
up a slope. (EASY isnt it!!!!!). Well, read on:

First to appear was my old pal Clive Cocks (he certainly lives up to his name!
What were you doing balanced on the edge of the Quarry, Clive . . .?) Having
had a mild panic attack at the 11 sticks he then went on to get stuck in the
"Little" bog and had to be extricated by Mono, but still managed to get
a 3 for his efforts. Having seen how "Not" to do it, the next motor went
on to clear the section. From here on in it was a mixture. The 11 gate was
catching a few out as was the "Little" step at the 9 and quite a few were
coming unstuck, or rather "stuck" at the bog. Especially John's "DEAD"
V8. Them things are really heavy when they cease motion. It took some 15
minutes to clear the section. Rob showed Steve that his motor "COULD"
climb hills, only to wipe out the 9 stick and Ian Bartram showed everyone
how it should be done, and got a clear.

Gareth was ranting and raving about some guy in a Range Rover who shunned
his advice and got "bogged", thus bending "both" Mono's tow pins (you
all know what Mono's like when he gets dischuffed!). So he used his powers
of "Orange Vest" and delegated, i.e. the next motor towed out the next motor,
if you see what I mean!

Duncan Smith (of 80 fame from years gone by) was Gob Smacked when
he got 11. Then went on to get right round (with Orange Vest's consent)
and almost cleared the section. A SII with only two wheel drive even managed
to get farther, but that's trialling for you.

Having now decided no more motors were coming (thanks a lot. lads) we
said "STUFF IT", or words to that effect and went for lunch.

Lunch came, went, never to be seen again (unless you happen to work at
a Lancashire S____ farm).

We were told (sorry, asked) to marshal section 12 after lunch. So we set
off to set up camp and find the best place to park old 72 as a wind, snow,
cold break.

"Now, what a little twister" this section turned out to be. Short sharp and
to the point. Apart from 321. No way on earth had this been driven by
a SHEEP let alone a Landrover! After spending some 10-15 minutes getting
the "First motor out" we decided to alter the finish. Much better, no great
problems.

One or two were getting caught out with the "Twisters" and Gareth's favourite motor (The Rangey) was stuck at the 2 gate as he was backing out of the section. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, with snow, ice and a bitterly cold wind, making me retreat to the shelter of "Old 72". Mind you though, I still had a good clear view of the section.

Apparently by now, a few had retired. Among the casualties were Magic Mick, with a blown head gasket on his "New" 4.9 Itr. V8 (Oh, to be rich!) half a dozen broken half shafts and diffs, etc., etc.

It wasn't long before we realised that no more motors were coming (other marshals breaking down sections is one hell of a clue!). So we broke our section down and went to collect more sticks, etc.

In spite of the weather we had a great weekend. It won't be long before "OLD 72" becomes the new "WAZ" mobile.

Thanks to all who help set out and run the event. To the land owner and other marshals (Wow, the power of the "ORANGE VEST").

See you all soon.

Love, kisses and naughty thoughts

WAZ (alias Mr. Nice Guy) DAVID WEST

HAGGATE

"B—-y H-l! I'm K—-—d", I said to myself. Oh! it's Saturday morning.
So I got up and did the papers. I got back at 9 a.m. after waking up my friend, Jonny K. Brrruhm Bh Bh Bh Nurrr. Yup, Dad's here. We all legged it out of the door (me, Jonny and my brother Scott) and dived into the Landy.
"Dad", I said, "Has Waz gone up yet?" "Yea, I just saw him turn up the
road", replied my Dad, so we started off up to Haggate. We met Waz outside the turned over caravan (where somebody has obviously been having serious sex!) and we were discussing the day ahead as we drove up the track to where the horse box should be. I should be in bed if it wasn't there so we planned out some sections. Half an hour later the cavalry arrived, Andy in a Toyota! with the horse box. We unlocked the horse box and got out plenty of sticks.
Section 1 was then underway. We tried it out first (well David did) in a slap
standard 2A/3 series and he had it nose down about to turn it over. My Dad tried to hold it down by grabbing the roof, David doing a superman
impersonation to get out of it somehow with only a scratch (on the motor
of course). Once we finished Section 1 we moved on to do Section 2. This
we conquered with ease. We then moved on to Section 3 which was a bit
of a b-—r if I do say so myself. Then the words I had been waiting for,
for the last hour, "Steven, do you want to go to the next point". Do I want to?

I didn't reply, just jumped in and set off. They all wandered up behind until
we came to a suitable place for another section. We then got to working setting it out. But! "Steven, where are the stick plungers", my Dad said. "Oh b-—y nora", said I, "I've left them at Section 3. I'll be back in a tick".
So off I went back to Section 3 to get them. We then did a couple more
sections. After I went back to pick up some more sticks we did two more
sections. We came to doing Section 6 and my Dad said that Jonny could sit
in while he tested the section.

Well, Dad set off and, going through gate 10 he nearly had it over. The front left wheel was two feet in the air and I could see Jonny's head popping over the window top with this half-smile look on his face. They carried on through the peat bog and up to the gate. Then my Dad had that look on his face as for the second time he nearly had it on its side. Well, God paid my Dad back for putting Section 6 through a peat bog as he spent most of Sunday towing people out of it. Me and my friend Jonny had to marshal Section 2, which was a bit boring at first as the nine people didn't manage 11, or only just managed a 10 penalty. Then in the afternoon we got Section 9 and my Dad got Section 12. I was saying to my Dad that Section 12 looked a bit of a b-—r but he said no, they'll clear that easy. But sure as sure was they were getting stuck. On our section most were not getting past gate 8 as this section was a real axle twister. There was one person who got a clear and one person got a 1. The fat boys' team were giving their motor some stick, there was a lot of mud and rock flying everywhere. Then CLUNK! Click, Click, Click, Click. Back diff caputt with a capital C. "Do you want me to put you down as retired?" A bit of a silly question under the circumstances.
Then my brother and my other friend came. My brothers stuck with my Dad
but Andrew came to the landy with me and Jonny. Anyway, "No sign of
a motor on our patch for the last ten minutes, let's pull the sticks in." So
me and Jon started pulling the sticks in and Andy came by in his Toyota
so we dumped the sticks on him and I went the long way back to the horse
box. One the way Waz caught hold of me and asked me if all the sections
had been pulled up. So I went back to check. All clear so I ran back to the
horse box. We all loaded up and shipped out (sorry drove out) and went home.
Ori Ori Bye for now

YOUNG ALMOND "

STACKSTEADS '94

Sunday . . .

I had turned up at about 9.45 to a very windy site. When David McGivern

arrived I said to him, "It's poor weather up here". He said, "This is good

up to Saturday's weather!"

Ah well, on with the event. Our new Chief Marshal was in attendance in

his full regalia and put me with David and Carol on Section 4. Next time

we are there I won't do this section again as I have done it many times. Andy Bury and Duncan Smith both thought they had cleared it and came to me for their cards to be marked and when I pointed out where No. 1 gate was, they were not amused!

With 15 sections to do and told that seven were to be done before lunch, David and I reckoned that Nos. 5, 6 and 7 would have marshals on them, so off we went down for lunch. I had a softly done egg sandwich from the snack bar and whilst sitting in the motor it exploded, missing the marshal's bib and landed on the steering wheel, my over-trousers and also newly-acquired seats, and that was before it reached my mouth! Oh dear, I said! After which we were told — asked — to go to Section 7.

Whilst there, David, on opening his driver's door to get out (how else would he get out) had the door wrenched out of his hand by the wind and eventually (small part of a second), crashed around and broke the top hinge.
Graham Miles in his 80in. did not bother to walk this section and still got
a clear. Peter England in a L/wt turned up to say that his friend Duncan Smith was reshaping some panels and would be along shortly. This proved to be that Duncan had rolled on Section 8 and stayed wheels upwards for quite
a while.

Philip Read obtained a 1 for his troubles on Section 7. It had been noticed
on Section 4 that if he put the gears in 4wd AND low ratio, he would get
to gate 11 easier.

Section 13 was next for marshalling, with Gary Philips. This was lucky for
some and unlucky for a few chosen ones. Phil Bailey in his L/wt green coiler
had only two, yes ONLY two penalties until this section. From the 12 gate
it went down a hill, turned right through a bricked opening and around to
the other side of the hill. Phil stalled his engine and the motor came to a
halt going DOWN the hill. Card please, eleven . . .
Mick Higson — double-entered in Clive Cocks motor, a SII plus with a V8
engine — had a certain young man (son of Mick Heywood) in the passenger
seat who forgot to close the door as he got in. Motor descends hill, door
flies open and motor is forced to stop. Card please, ten . . . !!

Editor's P.A.

MICHAEL CHALONER

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