Part 3: Humble beginnings
I set out this morning with my pal Dan for a little roady. The first objective was for me to get reacquainted with driving a manual car to prepare myself for Rally School, so I was the designated driver in Dan’s Ford Focus. The second was to check out Hibiscus Coast Motorsport Club’s Motorkhana event.
After two dozen wrong turns around Ranui we finally found the event tucked away behind a BMX park, in a field. Camping out by the entrance was Gavin and his Mitsubishi. He clocked me straight away and introduced himself. In classic kiwi-bloke style he was humble and quietly spoken. I pestered him with a few more questions about the specifics of the event and he gladly filled me in. There are two sets of coned tracks throughout the day, and each competitor gets two runs at each set. You can hit a cone, but knock it over, or move it off its starting point and you get a five second penalty. Go the wrong way and it’s basically a void run. Simple.
We looked over to the other side of the grassy paddock and saw 40 or so people and 20 or so cars clustered around a copse of trees, sheltering from the fierce New Zealand sun. I had been expecting a fleet of souped-up Imprezas and Lancers, or even some classic rally cars. Instead we got a motley crew of old beaters, daily-drives, a few rear-wheel beasts and couple of lightly modified cars with roll cages, racing seats and body kits. I was surprised to see that all of the cars had regular road tyres on, rather than rally tyres. This, Gavin explained, was to avoid cutting up the ground too much, which would displease the council and could result in them not being allowed back.
We had arrived between the first and second round, so watched the stewards setting out the new track. At first we couldn’t make out a recognisable track, just a scattering of cones. Once they had set everything out, they gathered the competitors and talked them through the new layout. The little MX-5, suspension creaking, took a quick spin around to show everyone the route. It was still a little hard to follow, but now we could see gates, slaloms and ‘garages’ – boxes where you must stop your car. I was a little worried that I’d struggle to remember the tracks, but almost everyone managed it, so it's clearly not impossible.
We found a seat in the shade and soon enough engines grumbled into life. A queue began to form at the starting gate, comprised of Mitsubishi Mirages, Holden Barinas, a Mazda MX5, a Honda Jazz, a Nissan 350Z, a Ford Falcon, an old Mini Cooper, a Honda Civic and Gavin’s tweaked Mitsubishi.
One of the first cars out of the gate was an unmodified Honda Jazz, just like you’d see pootling down any suburban road. While I’d never seen a Jazz go quite that fast, it wasn’t in any way dazzlingly fast. I thought to myself, I could do that. I’ll need get the feel of driving on grass and dirt, and practice hand-brake turns, but the front wheel cars seemed made for it. The larger RWD cars looked fun but struggled to get their power down and make the tight turns. Gavin roared round the track at pace – this was obviously not his first rodeo.
The event itself was reassuringly low-fi. It was competently organised, but not taken over-seriously by competitors. Some were obviously experienced and talented, setting good times and gliding gracefully around the grassy hairpins – while others were clearly not. The 350Z driver, a beginner finding his feet, lumped on the power and span his car in a shower of dust and churned up grass. This provoked a good natured chuckle from the handful of spectators. The atmosphere was calm and cordial and everyone seemed pleased to be there. Motorkhanas are one step above training, a great way to learn car control and to get a feel for competing. They're so simple that you are allowed to compete from the age of 12.
As we left the Motorkhana for our third objective of the day (visiting Liberty Brewing Co) I was buzzing. Yes, I could actually do this. I could go out and get any car, come to the next one and race. I wouldn’t win, but I’d have every chance of not coming last. I could mess up and nobody much would care. One thing would be certain – I’d have a blast.
After two dozen wrong turns around Ranui we finally found the event tucked away behind a BMX park, in a field. Camping out by the entrance was Gavin and his Mitsubishi. He clocked me straight away and introduced himself. In classic kiwi-bloke style he was humble and quietly spoken. I pestered him with a few more questions about the specifics of the event and he gladly filled me in. There are two sets of coned tracks throughout the day, and each competitor gets two runs at each set. You can hit a cone, but knock it over, or move it off its starting point and you get a five second penalty. Go the wrong way and it’s basically a void run. Simple.
We had arrived between the first and second round, so watched the stewards setting out the new track. At first we couldn’t make out a recognisable track, just a scattering of cones. Once they had set everything out, they gathered the competitors and talked them through the new layout. The little MX-5, suspension creaking, took a quick spin around to show everyone the route. It was still a little hard to follow, but now we could see gates, slaloms and ‘garages’ – boxes where you must stop your car. I was a little worried that I’d struggle to remember the tracks, but almost everyone managed it, so it's clearly not impossible.
We found a seat in the shade and soon enough engines grumbled into life. A queue began to form at the starting gate, comprised of Mitsubishi Mirages, Holden Barinas, a Mazda MX5, a Honda Jazz, a Nissan 350Z, a Ford Falcon, an old Mini Cooper, a Honda Civic and Gavin’s tweaked Mitsubishi.
One of the first cars out of the gate was an unmodified Honda Jazz, just like you’d see pootling down any suburban road. While I’d never seen a Jazz go quite that fast, it wasn’t in any way dazzlingly fast. I thought to myself, I could do that. I’ll need get the feel of driving on grass and dirt, and practice hand-brake turns, but the front wheel cars seemed made for it. The larger RWD cars looked fun but struggled to get their power down and make the tight turns. Gavin roared round the track at pace – this was obviously not his first rodeo.
The event itself was reassuringly low-fi. It was competently organised, but not taken over-seriously by competitors. Some were obviously experienced and talented, setting good times and gliding gracefully around the grassy hairpins – while others were clearly not. The 350Z driver, a beginner finding his feet, lumped on the power and span his car in a shower of dust and churned up grass. This provoked a good natured chuckle from the handful of spectators. The atmosphere was calm and cordial and everyone seemed pleased to be there. Motorkhanas are one step above training, a great way to learn car control and to get a feel for competing. They're so simple that you are allowed to compete from the age of 12.
As we left the Motorkhana for our third objective of the day (visiting Liberty Brewing Co) I was buzzing. Yes, I could actually do this. I could go out and get any car, come to the next one and race. I wouldn’t win, but I’d have every chance of not coming last. I could mess up and nobody much would care. One thing would be certain – I’d have a blast.
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