BCCC Round 4 Sweet Lamb.

I’ve been to Sweet Lamb on several occasions, for a variety of motorsport activities, and I’m never surprised by the sense of isolation you get there. You’re traveling along an ‘A’ road that seems quite ‘B-esque’ in places, the trees overhang and the corners come at you thick and fast. There’s no indication that you’re heading towards the coast. You just feel a long way from anywhere of real significance, or pet shop. You find a wide turning on the right that heads into a small complex of farm buildings, then out on the dirt road. And you keep going. Just over a kilometer later (or three quarters of a mile for those using Christian units) you turn up another dirt track and keep going, before breaking out onto a wide gravel plateau, flaked on one side by a large farm shed and a portacabin shack. That’s it, you’re at the ‘airfield’ – part-time service park, part-time motocross track, part-time shooting range, full-time wind tunnel. Usually you arrive in the dark and it’s just you, them couple o’ buildings and the occasional yap of distant sheep. Or the noise of the wind. Frequently the cloud is down, and it’s raining - hard. With the wind cutting its evil swathe across the fells it feels an inhospitable and remote patch of land. There are owls in this place, but I’ll be buggered if you’ll ever see them through the traditional Sweet Lamb mists.

If the weather’s clear you can be treated to a glorious and uninterrupted night sky. If the air is still it can be a magical and crisp place. There is no sign of town or city – none of the artificial lights really pollute the skies here. The gravel crunches softly underpaw, and with the surrounding hills in dark, blue shadow, you could be anywhere; the steppes of Kamchatka, the deserts of the Atacama, the Kumbhu Ice falls of the Himalaya. Anywhere. It’s still hauntingly remote and desolate, just less sinister. Such nights are to be treasured, and in these parts, they are as rare as rocking-horse turds.

Imagine my surprise then, when early on the Friday morning, under clear blue skies the owners turned the Landcruiser off the road and hauled themselves up that farm track. A cloud of dust boiled up from the tyres and followed us as a choking fog. We missed the turning to the plateau (again, I hasten to add) and drove up through the main bowl, sweeping off uphill to right and arriving at the ‘airfield’ (hardy har har) to join the rest of the set-up crew. Most had been camping down in Llangurig, but a couple of hardy sorts had overnighted behind the long shed by themselves. The odd bird launched itself out of the grass and into song, before settling back down again, a distinct sheep called to another, even more distant sheep, who called back, as sheep do. The lightest of breezes could be felt. The air was cool, but promised of warmth in the near future, and it smelt of sheep. Anyhoo, after three hours in the car dozing I needed to stretch my legs and so I spent the next few minutes tearing around like loon easing the journey out of my muscles. There was nothing to chase, no sticks to chew, only the odd pallet and sheep-shaped target to mark as my own. So I just ran for the hell of it and occasionally stuffed my nose into something that smelt interesting and wasn’t ovine based. A quick scratch revealed the nature of the ground here – the dew laden surface would soon be scraped away by passing tyres, revealing a damp under-layer. This would dry out quickly and the track could turn into a dust run with surprisingly low levels of grip. For the competitors on round 4 of Britparts British Cross Country championship (other championships are available) the ground could offer tremendous speed offset against perilously low levels of grip. Sweet Lamb has always been fast, and it’s always been loose. It’s been the scene of some frightening spills too – it’s a place rightly deserving of respect. There are no trees to hit, but there are some drops and some nasty corners. One fast corner a few years back cost prospective winners Keith and Sally Lewis the Championship. As tracks go, it’s like a pitbull – its awesome and open, but its capable of a viscous bite.

Back with the people, it was easy to see some of the network of track that criss-crossed the hills – none of them it seems, the BCCC were going to use. All of our tracks were hidden behind the big hill, apart from the finish line, where the track seemed to drop almost vertically down a wall of grass. That’ll make life entertaining (for a certain value of ‘entertain’, anyway). The ‘flying finish’ could well be very aptly named. I remember coming here as a pup and watching Neil Davey lose it over one of the yumps and slither downhill under the influence of gravity, and gravity alone. This year, that section of track was at least made up and the gravel would offer, hopefully, a shade more grip. Most of the tracks I could see were going to be used by the All Wheel Drive Club and the Northern Off Road Club for their yearly head-to-head, the Dave Simmonite Memorial Trophy. This event was going to be run at Sweet Lamb, on the Sunday of the weekend, meaning that spectators would have the opportunity to compare the drivers and vehicles from multiple championships on similar terrain.

Following the ‘humes’ around for set-up gave me a chance to survey the course the BCCC racers would be taking over the following two days. The start was in a corner of the airfield, and leapt off down hill for well over a km. Some of it was Cat1, some of it dusty tarmac – it has always been horrendously fast, and it was perilous. The track was narrow, even when it wasn’t diving through the plethora of gates - for some of the descent there was deep water on either side, or there were steep drops. From the bottom of the hill the course climbed gradually on tarmac (warning; it has teeth) before hitting the left-paw turn that had rolled so many cars on the Championships last visit. Now the course climbs hard between walls and verges, up a loose gravel track that climbed you from the bottom of hill (spitting distance from that A road) right up to almost the highest point on the course. Once crested, the course followed the Cat1 on a series of sweeping curves, some long, some short, all pretty fast. There was the occasional yump to unsettle the car, but the fear of speed would be the only thing that limited progress along here. Bend followed bend in a giddy series, around sweeping corners and the occasional hairpin. A humorous left sweep was soon followed by a short dive across a contrived, rocky section before breaking out back onto the Cat1. This was immediately followed by a hairpin that offered glorious views down the valley and into Sweet Lamb bowl – if you’d spare the time to look. An error here could see you well on the way down hill to that bowl. It’d be a spectacular ride, but not a comfortable one. The track swept left around the head of the valley, straightened up for a short while before another quick dive, this time up to the right. It was a short, sharp little off-camber number up the fell before joining the final stretch of butt-clenching Cat1. This dropped down passed the flying finish over a couple of yumps – here, playing cautious could make the difference between a comfortable finish and a fearsome bounce – but caution would also make the difference between first and second. If there was one phrase the defined the track as laid out, it was ‘knife edge’. Balance it right and the run would be blisteringly fast, get it either side of that crux and it could be a very long day or a very short stop.

Saturday morning had given us crystal clear skies and the kind of slight, crisp chill in the air that promises a warm and glorious day in the sun. By the time I got lashed to the back of the Landcruiser, folk were starting to mingle around the distant shape of the Xox stand. It was calling to me – speaking and smelling of dropped sausages and snippets of bacon, and here was I fastened to two tons of Jap off-roader. I tried a few fruitless attempts to slip my lead, as is usual, but the recent purchase of a new ‘Ruffwear’ lead was making life difficult. The ‘humes’ felt my twarted efforts were quite humorous. However the last chuckle was mine, as after about five minutes determined chewing I was free and off for anything meat-based I could blag and/or bully out of the good people at Sweet Lamb. I did feel self-conscious though, as there was still a good foot of lead (with a damp end) swinging about off my collar. Let this be a lesson – ‘Rogz’ leads are a lot less chewable, but its not like I’d tell them that! There didn’t to be too many competitors, but the pickings were still fair – I have to say the pieces of sheep burger were particularly good. Oddly though, there were so many bare legs – not often you see them on a championship round. And when you’re my height, it can be a little perturbing!

By about half nine the drivers started to assemble for their briefing and that was my signal to make tracks around the course to watch the action. As the clock ticked a few minutes passed ten, the first car lit up the hills in an immense howl and rocketed off of the start line and down the first hill. The cars were leaving in seeded order, so it would be Richard Kershaw’s red Pug-a-like that would soon be caning past my location. I listened as he tore towards the Junction 5 left paw corner, and I heard the engine pull smoothly up the long hill. I heard the note pick up and the speed build as the track leveled out. Then he was in view – a red bullet with a huge plume of dust and loose gravel boiling behind him. Then as quick as he came, he was gone and the dust rolled about and enveloped me. And I waited. Aaaand I waited.

When it cleared I had changed colour. My rich black and tan (of which, I add, I’m quite proud), was now beige and beige. In one fell swoop I had gone from ‘Noble Dobe’ to ‘Weimaraner’. I sneezed.

Before Kershaw had got to me, I’d heard the familiar bellow of Dan Lofthouse’s ‘LD4 Proto’ with its big v8. Dan had launched and was making fair pace by the time he had wound his way down and back up the mountain. Dan was quick no doubt but even by now he was a few seconds down on Richard. I’d missed the howl of Tim Dilworths mad, Subaru-powered Pug-a-like leaving the line, but he came past me a little sideways and a little clear of the ground, He was absolutely on it. By my reckoning he was bang-on pace with Richard. I say ‘by my reckoning’ because I fumbled with my stopwatch - its not easy using a clock when your lacking in thumbs, opposable or otherwise. But I digress.

Kershaw was quick, stopping the clock 7.09 – which for nearly six miles was a helluva pace by anyone’s reckoning. Dan had dropped some time around the course, but I’d say he usually takes a run or two to really get his eye in. His time of 7.20 proved he could get the venerable independent ‘round well in touch with anyone else in the field. He doesn’t wear the no.2 badge without good reason! Tim however had picked up time on his lap and stopped clocked 5 seconds quicker than Richard. His driving was well on form, and clearly the combination of car and team worked well with the course. There two surprises in particular that came out of run 1. First was the welcome return of Gordon Monoghan in the no.232 RS200. We’d seen this car here last time on our last visit and it was stunningly fast, with a fire breathing BMW lump under the rear. It’s performance proved to be a real ‘sit-up-and-take-note’ affair. This time out it was no slower – other folk had just managed to level the field a bit. He took the third fastest time on run 1 in spectacular style, finishing 2 seconds quicker than Dan. The second surprise had shoe-horned himself between Gordon and Dan with a time of 7.19 – John Cockburn was out in Steve Lloyds Milner R5 Protruck, and making a startling job of things. The funny thing was that Steve Lloyd was also out in Steve Lloyds R5 – between them they were going to put some miles on that car today! Johns time showed that he’d lost none of his driving pizzazz, and this was in relatively unknown vehicle. Smart arse!

Two seconds behind Dan and taking sixth spot was the ever-cheerful Martin Gould, in the ex-seemingly-everyone Mattseratti. It’s familiar gruff bellow made a fine soundtrack to Martins tail-happy, gravel-scattering style of driving. He’s one of the drivers who remind me of the Group B rally days – bullet-fast in a straight line and sideways around bends with minimal throttle lift – makes for good watching! Unlike many others though, Martin makes this style of driving work. Sitting in seventh spot behind Martin, was Chris Hammond, fresh from his top 10 placing on the awesome Rallye des Cimes in his equally awesome Milner R5. His time of 7.28 proved he was in touch, but I’m sure he wanted to be nearer to the front runners. Seven seconds back again and taking eighth, was Steve Lloyd in his own R5 – another fine showing. Whether he could keep Ian Rochelle behind him would be a good question – Ian was 1 second behind Steve and capable of much faster times, if his diminutive dragon-esque (its screams and spits fire – what more do you want?) Mattseratti could hold together. Given it’s performances of late – that was highly possible, too.

The course had its twists and turns, and in the same way, not everything followed an easy path on the leader board. Tim pounded in fastest time after fastest time and by run 4 was ahead of the field by 23 seconds. He launched off the line as the first car out on run 5 but quickly stopped with an almighty ‘bang’. He was barely 200 metres into the course before the prop between the engine and transmission had decided enough was enough. It snapped and Tim was lucky it didn’t tear anything else apart in it’s short, flailing demise. This cost Tim a maximum time of 18.43, knocking him back some 18 places to the unfamiliar ground of P 19. It also meant that Tim and co-driver/chief engineer Anthony Brinkman had to strip and rebuild a sizable amount of car before they could next go out. It was a bitter blow, but the pair of them took it with good humour. It was with that same good humour that they coasted back up to the line to start their everso-slightly delayed run 6. And they posted the fastest time. And they did the same on run 7 (up to 18th overall), and on run 8 (17th overall), and on runs 8, 9 and 10 (14th overall). It was a stellar effort and a clear statement that, when on form, the no.3 Pug-a-like is the force to be reckoned with. The question now was how far up the board could they get before close of play tomorrow. I’d put money on ‘a darned sight higher up than he was now’.

Finishing the day in eighth overall, and the highest placed car with live axles, was Colid Gould in his still-spangly yellow Bowler Wildcat 200. What the car lost out on was its sheer mass compared to other front-running cars. What it had however was horsepower in abundance, good stability, reliability up to the ying-yangs and Colin holding the twirly bit up front. It’s proving to be a good and competitive car in his paws. Colin hadn’t had the best start to the day (a 7.46 left him in 11th overall), but as the runs progressed he was getting quicker – I guess he was trying to figure out just what kind of speed the Wildcat was capable of delivering. Answer: lots! He gradually clawed his way up the leader by the close of Saturday. It wasn’t a meteoric rise, but it was fearsomely relentless.

Seventh spot on Saturday was the property of Chris Hammond and ‘Queen of the ear-rubs’ Amanda Garratley. Their times had been consistent to the verge of metronomic and where others had gone quicker and then blown it, Chris pounded on, mistake free, and sat in a deserved spot at the end of the day.

Ian Rochelle was demonstrating the reliability his no.8 Mattsi was capable of, and with the Millington engine on form he was ensconced in sixth overall. Spannering duties for Ian over the weekend were be taken care of courtesy of regular-face (and Collie fan) Ray Kempster. It’d be nice to see Ray back out racing in his white R4 Protruck next year - hopefully circumstances will allow Ray (and wife, Vonnie) to get back and lock wheels with the rest of the crowd.

Now, fifth spot was one of those other surprises for the weekend, and for the right reasons. Justin Birchall has showed promise in the past and has sometimes been let down by reliability. Well, that seems to be getting sorted, and a string of very strong times pushed him up the leader board. He is another driver with a very ‘Group B’ style and he is huge fun to watch – he’s also generous with the titbits, to boot. His wife and co-driver Louise, also seems to know just the right spots to scratch behind the ears. When they’ve had problems on races, they’ve always taken it with good grace and humour – and their enthusiasm is kinda infectious. Fifth overall – I hoped they could keep the momentum going for Sunday.

Martin Gould’s sideways driving had ironically driven him and co-driver Si Kerfoot straight into a deserving fourth spot in the venerable Mattsi. Martins driving style did raise one question – how much further back from the track do I have to be before I don’t get pelted with gravel by his motor? At one point, a cobble the size of a tennis ball was spat out by the no.4 Mattsi and bounced off the wagon the flying finish crew were hiding in (who was that haughty Dane that was hanging about up by them?). I was sat next to their Land Rover at the time, downhill – briefly! I fled to safer climes, despite the promise of lumps of pasty. See Martin? This is what you do – you drive me from free food! Free food, dammit! They were Morrisons pasties, too.

……………well played, though, sir!

Aaaanyhoo, back to the business of reporting. After a string of top 3 times (including fastest time on run 5), Gordon Monaghan had a slow run on run 8 (its not like a 7.27 was shoddy, but such was the strength of the competition). Undoubtedly this cost him second spot on the leader board, but his astonishing set of runs left him just 3 seconds off of that next step up. It was an awesome performance, but one tainted by the fact that tomorrow, he’d be competitoring in a different race tomorrow. Our loss, their gain, I guess. He could cause a few upsets if he came back to the BCCC full time, though!

As for second spot, well, that was in the capable paws of Dan Lofthouse and ballast-man, Johnny Koonja. Run 2 saw them take fifth fastest time, and from there on in, it was nothing outside the top 4 times (including 4 times in the 6 minute bracket) for the likeable pairing. Good lord; combine their ages and they’re still younger than a good number of the individual competitors!

First spot however, belonged to Richard Kershaw, co-driven as is usual, by Graham Broadbent. His times were equal to Chris Hammond in terms of consistency, but they were just consistently quicker. Five of his runs ensured his place in the ‘sub-7-minute club’, and he only had two runs outside the top three. On run 3 he pulled out all the stops and matched Tim to the second. It was a typically strong and faultless performance and his place at the top was deserved. He was driving on pace, the car was on form, and he had 35 seconds in hand over the ‘Dan and Johnny Show’. He could raise a slight smile, but only a slight one – tomorrow, as the film said, is another day. But given his performance so far, and the misfortune suffered by Tim and Anthony, he was in a strong position to take another round of the championship.

The sun went down and the temperature dropped, and I slunk my way back to the owners where I knew a dry-wash was in store for dusty dogs. Sure, I’d be Dobe colours again, but it was going to be a tedious 20 minutes nagging about my coat and my diet and my shedding and the state of my paws and the dust…… . It’s not called a dogs life for nothing, you know. ;-P

Sunday morning brought further surprises. First was a rip-roaring hangover, caused by hanging about the beer tent until early o’clock stealing beer. Oh, how I was paying for my crimes now. Karma, like Mum, was a bitch. The second surprise was the weather. Sometime in the night, someone had turned the scenery off. I looked out the window and saw, well, nothing, apart from the inside of a cloud. Everything had gone muted. It was eerie and didn’t bode well for the planned 9am start. I left the confines of the car and spent the first hour of the day in the traditional style – however bacon wasn’t sitting well in the grumbly tum, so I found a quiet corner near the start line to flake out in. By 9, the mist was starting to lift and become patchy, so The Powers That Be decided on a 9.30 launch time. I picked my sorry pelt up and found a good corner of the track to watch the day unfold; and what a day it promised to be.

The first car off the line that day was Richard Kershaw and he was fast. Not as fast as he had been though. His final run yesterday was 10 seconds slower than the one before, and this morning, he equaled that time. Sure, the run was still quick, but something didn’t smell right as he came past – there was unburnt fuel in the exhaust and it certainly didn’t sound like all pistons were playing ball. This could be costly. Dan was second out the blocks and he was quicker than Richard, by two seconds. It closed the gap, but if things stayed as they were, Richard would be able to do enough to keep the younger man behind him. If things stayed as they were…. The only sub-7 time of the first run went to Tim and Anthony and their climb up the chart continued – they were now in tenth and only 6 seconds behind Greg Macleod in ninth.

Run two saw Dan take more time out of Richard – but this time it was 11 seconds. Dan shaved 2 seconds from his lap, but Richard struggled and found he’d added another 7 seconds to his time – and his car was sounding ill. They were now separated by 12 seconds. Dan could do it, but then again, so could Richard. Ian Rochelle’s Millington lump wasn’t sounding at its best either and despite Ray Kempsters best ministrations he was loosing time. He was still driving his socks off, but it was looking ragged – full marks for trying though. As before, fastest time went to Tim and Anthony who pushed the car around course immaculately and were rewarded with a ludicrously fast 6.42 – a whole 21 seconds quicker than Dan. They had now overhauled Greg (who was driving well) and were aiming for Steve Lloyd, who himself was having a fair time things. The problem, for Tim anyway, was that Steve was over three minutes ahead. Even with the speed differential between the R5 and the Scooby powered Pug-a-like, it was looking slim for Tim to grab that next place.

Run three saw, what I can only describe as the impossible. Richard had clearly threatened something under the engine bay, and his Nissan lump was running better. He posted his fastest run time of the day so far – a strong 7.00. Dan launched in his usual style - vomiting gravel and pebble dashing the plethora of Range Rovers at the start line. He drove well and had found where a few more seconds could be saved – he stopped the clock with a well earned 7.00. Guess what time Tim posted. Yup, he stamped a 7.00, too. Incredible. People had joked about having to time these events to the tenth – now it was looking like a serious proposition. Ian Rochelle was having less of a good time and it was on this run that his sick engine finally gave up the ghost and Ian retired from the event to prevent further damage to his usually sprightly motor. Ian is one of those drivers that has eschewed convention and his diminutive black and silver Mattsi is powered by straight four lump – its awesomely powerful though and is very free revving. But for this weekend it revved no more.

Richards engine issues were starting to make themselves known again on run 4, and he worked hard to nail a good 7.09. I won’t call his time ‘respectable’ as it would be doing his efforts and skill a disservice. Sure, he had engine gremlins, but in his typical style he just thought ‘this is what I’ve got, I make the most of it’. And he did. I would take my hat off to him, only I don’t wear one. I feel that making dogs wear hats probably explains a high number of bite-related hospital admissions. The drying track, with its fine balance of grip was clearly suiting Dan and he placed his first sub-7 time of the day – 6.56. That’ll do nicely. It was also enough to shake things up at the top – Dan swiped top spot from under Richards nose – but he wasn’t going to get complacent about. His lead was a scant one second and as the previous run had shown, it just might not be enough. Tim took fastest run time again, and closed to within 2.10 of Steve in seventh. That seventh spot was starting to look unlikely for Tim despite an absolutely stellar driving performance.

So, run 5 – everything to play for. Richard launched and put in a cracking turn of speed – drifting cleanly around the bends I could see, quickly capturing the slide and straightening the car up with a barely a lift of throttle. His car was still sputtering, but he was making the best of it. A managed a good 7.13 – but would it be enough? Bluntly? No. Dan was on it today and an equally controlled drive saw him nail another superb 6.56. He’s always been a good driver and it was awesome to see him hold slides on the loose Welsh gravel. He now had 18 seconds over Richard – a more comfortable gap, but still not enough to ‘take things easy’. The two of them were going to have to take this right down to the wire. Both still had an opportunity to take the victory. Superlatives fail, though when Tim hit the track – his car is lightening quick, but with power comes the need for control – and Tim has that control. Again he took fastest run time. It was like something out of horror movie – it didn’t matter what befell the monster, it just kept on coming at you with a relentless inevitability – it was as terrifying as it was impressive. Especially if you were above him on the leader board!

That brought us to the last run of the day, run 6, and Richard rolled up to the line. He’d been having further exploratory prods around the engine and it was now sounding very much on song (it seems a coil pack had been going the way of the pear). His speed on track proved it too and he hailed his motors return to full health with a blistering 6.50. It was now Dans to lose. As before though, Dan pieced together a clean, smooth and incredibly fast last and reward with yet another 6.56. He’d had 18 seconds over Richard and he had done enough – the day, and the weekend was his, and it was well deserved. Tim didn’t catch Steve in the end, but he put something special together on his last run – and I do mean special. His laps before had been spectacular – this one was just astonishing. His 6.40 was not only the fastest time of the run, but also the day and the weekend. Wow. Well done, that man.

Third spot on the podium was pretty much a foregone conclusion. Whilst Richard and Dan were trying to tear strips off each others times, Martin and Simon had grabbed the no.4 Mattsi by the scruff of the neck and set a sequence of really, really strong times, some of which were in the sub-7 bracket. Third place was richly deserved and well earned. Fourth spot went to Justin and Louise Birchall in the banshee BMW powered Pug-a-like. Justin had been able to focus his enthusiasm and show just what kind of competitor he is developing into. His drive was as quick as it was entertaining to watch – a crowd-pleasing package and Birchall-pleasing result. It raised a smile here, too. I’ll bet he’s still grinning. To add something extra to it, Justin was under some pressure and his place was by no means easy. Chris Hammond was driving beautifully and was clearly comfortable with the course. He had spent the day trading times with Justin, sometimes beating him, sometimes equaling him, sometimes coming in slightly behind – it was a genuine tussle that easily rivaled the battle between Richard and Dan. At the end of the weekend there was a fag paper between the two of them – just five seconds. Chris and Amanda should feel pleased with their result (which judging by the Amanda’s smile, they did) as it was a battle royale and would have really added something to the weekend – a real tussle.

The elder Gould brother Colin was yet again proving himself to be ‘King of the live axle’ and brought his Wildcat home, quite comfortably, in sixth. As vehicles go, it probably wasn’t best suited to the fast, twisty nature of the course, but clearly no one had told Colin, either that or he did his usual and stuck two fingers up to it. His was the only live axled car in the top ten, and he was 6 minutes up on the next ‘non-independent’, Greg Macleod.

Nestling in ninth spot behind Steve Lloyd, was an on-form Neil Davey. Neil had been a regular Champ competitor over the years, but had taken a year out, so it was a nice surprise to see his familiar blue Pug-a-like coast up to the line on Saturday. He’d had some amazing performances in the past, coupled sadly with some tremendous spills including a sickening looking tumble at Radnor where a multiple roll was only arrested by a substantial tree – it looked like the scene of a plane crash. Luckily, both Neil and his co-driver walked away from it, somewhat unsteadily I’ll admit, but walking none the least. Once recovered, the car also proved drivable – if non-competitively (it was however looking very second hand). Anyhoo, Neil held it together this weekend and put in some really, really competitive times. Hopefully, with the cobwebs out the system, we’ll see Neil back as a regular next year, because he will be on the pace with the rest of the best and I’m sure he’d be welcomed by everyone.

So, with a few clouds drifting lazily across the skies, the BCCC round 4 came to a close. The sound of race-cars still echoed through the hills and the AWDC and NORC drivers fought for top honours in the Simmonite Memorial Trophy. But for the BCCC the race was over with the Championship still wide open. Richard has a healthy lead – but this round proved that his car can have foibles. Tim proved that a strong lead can still be blown out of the water by the unexpected. Dan proved that the threat can be delivered, in style. If there’s one thing the BCCC has again shown, it is expected the unexpected.

What’s going to happen at round 5, back in the wooded glades of Glan Usk? I dare you to make a predicition!

---

I have been instructed that I have to thank the ‘other member’ of the team here – Agatha; proof-reader, stealer of socks and domestic cat. You see, I can, near as dammit, smell in technicolour. You can tell a tyre by it’s pattern – I can smell the brand of rubber, I can tell you who’s running cheap grease in their wheel bearings by the odour it gives off when they pass. I can smell the difference between the alloys of the engine and gearbox when they’re hot. I can even tell you which racer is still using ‘Brut’ grooming products (although it might by his synthetic EP90 giving me a false positive). The rich colours of smell unfold to my nose – what is there now, and what has been there before – I sniff in ‘hi-def’, people. However, I’m a dog, and visual colours don’t mean squat - I’m colour blind (there, said it). So, Agatha will go through the photos that the humes take and let me know what colours the cars, the sky and the grass is. She also makes sure I don't swear too much. Apparently some readers can be 'delicate’ to such things. So, if I get a car colour wrong, or say a naughty word don’t blame me, blame the ********* ******* **** ******** cat!

Thanks to Debbie Difflock for the candid shots.

The views expressed in the article above are those of the author and not those of the webmaster or organisers