CATHERINE WOULFE
Let's make one thing clear. Cars are not my thing. The whine of motorsport gives me a headache and I have nightmares about being driven faster and faster and faster - mercifully, I always wake up just before we slam into a wall.
Obviously I was top of the list
to do the rally story. Grant Blackberry, the driver who had the enviable task of scaring me witless, insists he's only had one speeding ticket - for doing 130km/h ("nothing major") down Havelock Road in the middle of the night.
But get him on the gravel and it's a different story. Co-driver Belinda Hatton says the fastest he's gone in his Mitsubishi Lancer Evo 5 is about 200km/h - but she's never been properly scared. "I've had a few moments when I've sort of screamed and yelled at Grant, but not really majorly scared."
Once I've struggled into my fire-proof suit, strapped on the harness and been shown the big red fire extinguisher button ("don't press that, it makes a mess"), I'm in two minds.
One, when there's safety equipment, there's a good reason for it. Two, safety equipment makes you safe.
I'm still pondering this as we rumble our way down to the start, and the nerve-wracking countdown begins: one minute, 20 seconds, five seconds ... The first couple of corners are a silent scream. Silent because I'm too scared to do more than whimper and, because there's a two-litre turbo engine underneath me making a bit of a racket.
Grant looks like a kid playing Playstation, focused, leaning forward, sliding in and out of gears (and corners), gripping the steering wheel like a man possessed.
Gravel goes flying, hawks scatter for the skies and we come so close to the photographer that he's forced to jump back.
After half a lap I'm beginning to calm down. The grimace turns to a grin - this guy knows what he's doing. Burning up hills and crunching round corners is starting to feel, a little, like fun.
So when the photographer says we have to go round again, I'm keen.
I unbuckle, a little shaky, after three laps. While I'm grateful I didn't have breakfast, Grant's into the Powerade and, of course, the debrief with all the other mad - sorry, enthusiastic ralliers.
"Good track, eh. Imagine that after five laps, when you really knew it!"
Drive carefully on the way home, they said.
Right.
CATHERINE WOULFE
Let's make one thing clear. Cars are not my thing. The whine of motorsport gives me a headache and I have nightmares about being driven faster and faster and faster - mercifully, I always wake up just before we slam into a wall.
Obviously I was top of the list
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