If you’re at all like me, you’ll relate to this feeling: lost, overwhelmed and at times perplexed.
What am I doing here? Do they really want to speak to me? If I just went home, would anybody notice?
Imposter syndrome isn’t the one. But it’s part of what makes a lot of us who we are.
For years, this was my relationship with rallying. I was an imposter. Somehow, I’ve managed to evolve that to the extent that the discipline now helps put food in my fridge.
I’m one of the lucky ones. Plenty of our heroes don’t get to make money from rallying – contrary to my beliefs when I watched events as a small boy.
Most of my idols were actually business owners, hard workers – not really rally drivers or co-drivers. But even learning that with the wisdom that comes with age, my feeling towards them hasn’t really changed.
They are still superstars. Their world, inside the cockpit, was out of reach. I could never be one of them. My place was behind the spectating tape; not tackling the hairpin beyond it.
Such a resigned attitude to the exclusivity of rallying is understandable, but not totally realistic. The mind is a powerful tool, and if you want something badly enough, you’ll find a way to get it.
I found this out two years ago when I waved goodbye to thousands of my hard earned pounds and tricked myself into feeling like a rally driver for the weekend. In return I was rewarded with the best three days of my entire existence, and a dose of depression to overcome in the months afterwards.
The ultimate high; the ultimate low.
Yet here I am, back on the start-line and ready to do it all over again. Only this time my experience isn’t set to make my accountant weep. I’m sitting in the co-drivers’ seat and competing at a single-venue.
Now I’m not a graduate of the Oz Rally Pro program. A professional co-driver I most certainly am not; I’m not even in the running to be a top-class club-level one!
But our sport isn’t purely reserved for the elite and the gifted. Average joes like me can have our fun too – and that’s exactly what my weekend before this year’s Monte Carlo Rally was all about. Fun.
As rallying addicts, we don’t have the luxury of being able to simply go outside and kick a ball with our mates like our soccer-loving friends. But the Brands Hatch Winter Stages was the closest way of achieving this simple desire.
Alex (right) was daft enough to let Luke co-drive for him at Brands Hatch last month
Alongside me is Alex Waterman, a good friend of mine and the man silly enough to co-drive for me when I drove, and the belts have me strapped into a Ford Fiesta Rally3 – a new car Alex’s EDSL Sport firm has available for hire this year.
For Alex this is an opportunity to shake the car down before it goes into the hands of customers; for me it’s a load of craic – indulging in what made us all fall in love with this sport.
Although they had their moment when Monza was added to the WRC calendar through the COVID times, single venues aren’t the real source of that passion for many of us. But they are absolutely the most accessible way into competition – both in terms of finance and talent required, on either side of the car.
Today’s wintry encounter is my second time clutching the time card at one of the UK’s circuits. Is it as fun as driving the country lanes I grew up on like I did driving the Jim Clark Rally in 2023? Of course not – but it’s costing me about 2% of that event too! So you do the math.
And actually I’m surprised how satisfying I find the process of checking us in to the service in/out controls and also the stage starts – being the sidekick to the driver and guiding them round the nuances of the particular circuit layout we are tackling.
I’m ultimately to come away from the entire experience determined to make sure I do more of it, but perhaps more importantly content that rallying simply doesn’t need to be as out of reach as it can seem.
It is possible to do it for a relatively modest fee.
Rallying at race circuits isn't what most aspire to, but it's a very accessible way into competition
Nobody’s two situations are the same in terms of costs, and I’ve got the advantage of working in rallying and therefore being able to use my connections, but for complete clarity my costs for the weekend were as follows:
Travel: £150 / $182.50 (return flights from Edinburgh to Heathrow)
License: £115 / $140 (my governing body, Motorsport UK, does offer cheaper but I picked the one that allows me to drive, just in case…)
Sustenance: ~ £50 / $61 (a definite estimate, I haven’t been keeping receipts)
Total: approx £315 / $383.50
Obviously that doesn’t make this the cheapest weekend I’ll ever enjoy in my life, and some costs are cut as I have my own helmet, suit and HANS from competing before. I am also fortunate to have had a driver willing to pay for my overnight accommodation and our entry fee.
But considering there are competitors at even this grassroots level who will pay around my entire weekend figure for just one tire on their Rally2 car, it’s a pretty good deal isn’t it?
Co-driving a single-venue is by far the simplest way in, but it’s almost a totally different skill to pacenote events
Anyway, we are off the line on our first stage together in these particular roles – but the drama’s literally only a corner away as we spin on the first turn. Slippery conditions, plus Alex’s first time in four-wheel-drive, are contributing factors, but immediately facing backwards lets me know I’m in for an entertaining day.
The rest of it, however, flies by in a blur. Eight stages around four different configurations, all roughly one hour apart, means you do have periods of downtime but you’re never far away from the car. And what a feeling it is to be out there, doing your job in a proper piece of kit. If you haven’t yet experienced it, I promise it’s just as amazing as you’re imagining.
My particular role was a mere shadow of what Martijn Wydaeghe and his peers are up to. Co-driving a single-venue is by far the simplest way in, but it’s almost a totally different skill to pacenote events. All you’re given is a map of the stage and it’s your job to mark it up and work your way around.
You can of course generate your own pacenote language from those maps, but often (as was the case for us at Brands) you aren’t even allowed to walk or cycle the track. And I was let off the hook: Alex didn’t ask for any direction from me on the circuit itself – only for splits, merges, chicanes and hazards.
However, at this juncture, I need to make a confession. I’ve sold this to you as a weekend I purely wanted to enjoy, but it transpires that may be a white lie.
Alex knows me well and is very good at seeing through me, so I’m happy to trust his appraisal. It seems I was taking things more seriously than even I was aware of.
The timecard, stage map and a clipboard are vital for navigating a circuit rally
“When Luke suggested co-driving for me it’s safe to say my expectations weren’t high, but having done the event before I thought how badly can he go wrong?” Alex says.
“This is when he informed me that he suffers from motion sickness, especially when looking down at maps. After discussing and agreeing what I wanted him to call, the next question was ‘Can you print the maps for me? I don’t have a printer.’ Me the driver, printing my co-drivers’ maps! Not the best start…
“Fast forward to picking him up from Heathrow where he was sipping a ginger beer (apparently it helps with motion sickness), and we headed for Brands Hatch. Through scrutineering, we were ready for the morning (after a few more ginger beers).
“Three motion sickness tablets and more ginger beer later, I was being marched over to the drivers’ briefing like a naughty kid with Luke in serious co-driver mode. He marked the maps up and we were off to the first stage which included a road section!
“After nailing the door-opening like a professional nav, we were on the start-line for SS1. Throughout the day he was spot on; not a single wrong note, not a single miscount of laps and no time penalties.
Time controls (pictured here) are essential to get right
“What is a co-drivers job on a circuit single venue rally? For me it’s all about bringing the smiles and fun, and that he did. There’s nothing better than having one of your close mates in the car keeping things entertaining whilst driving flat out, catching cars and in our case spinning more times than justifiable (I blame the nav).
“The jury is out on whether Luke will be the next Daniel Elena, but time will tell. One thing is for sure: there’s not many better people to have around to keep you smiling throughout the day, and for me that’s 90% of the job on a rally like Brands Hatch.
“So for me he gets a gold star… plus he didn’t soil himself in the brand new Rally3!”
All hail the ginger beer! Although it did let me down the following week when typing a story on my laptop from the back of the car, but don’t tell Alex isn’t not a bulletproof solution…
Anyway I’ll give up the lying, I did want to try and do things properly in the navigator’s seat. As much as I knew I wasn’t in the car for my co-driving track record, I didn’t want to be a handicap.
Besides, I was secretly hoping we could do something in our class, as of the three different rally weekends I’ve now taken part in, this promised to be my most competitive shot with an interesting race poised between Subarus, Mitsubishis and our Rally3 Fiesta.
But a fuel surge coming up to Druids (the reverse direction) put paid to my ambition as we came to a halt and shipped over a minute. Then a hairy spin going down Druids (the correct way) where we almost collected the barrier – a moment it took me a while to grasp the severity of! – kept things lively throughout the day.
Luke was surprised how much he enjoyed the (modest) challenge of co-driving at a single venue
Delays off the start-line didn’t, but weirdly it was actually quite useful for my real job to experience the adrenalin slump and then sudden call to action to re-energize yourself when you’re told you’re starting the stage in one and a half minutes.
Two stage wins in class on the final two stages (21st overall on the latter) proved what might have been as Alex really found his groove with the car – and excelled once the light faded, too. Shout out to map lights inside rally cars by the way, they’re awesome.
I simply had a brilliant day out, made nice memories and did it all for a manageable amount of money. All while indulging myself in the purity of what rallying is all about without any of the stress that comes with championship-chasing competition or a career associated with it.
You’ll often hear people say ‘rallying is my life.’ Well, it really is mine. I’m utterly privileged to be able to say that. But a decade ago, that was completely untrue. I’d never worked at a rally, I’d never been in a rally car and my only contact to the World Rally Championship was through my TV screen.
But through forging my career, I’ve discovered that rallying is a welcoming world waiting for you to join it. No matter what capacity that may be in, the opportunities are there if you want to make them for yourself.
Even with the helmet fastened. I’m well aware it’s a luxury that some can’t afford or justify, but it equally doesn’t have to feel – or be – a world away like it once did for me.
