The
year 2019 marks the 50th anniversary of the first Mull Rally. Much has changed
during that half century, not just to the sport but to the island.
Thankfully, one constant is
returning this year after something of a hiatus, the Beatson's Mull Rally,
whereupon the town of Tobermory will assume the mantle of 'Britain's rallying
capital' for one weekend once again. One might be forgiven for thinking that Chester,
Harrogate or Llandudno could command such terminology. Nae chance. Mull is
quite unique in world rallying, no other event comes close. This is a land of
magic and mystery.
How do I know this? It all
started in 1971 when a young man in a tweed cap was dispatched from his post at
Shell & BP's Head Office in Glasgow to the Isle of Mull to investigate the
phenomenon known as 'the Tour of Mull'. On his return he made a positive report
to his Boss, one Bill Houston Esq, the Sales & Promotions Supervisor of the
oil giant. As sponsors of the Shell Scottish Rally Championship at that time,
Bill had it in mind to include the Mull event as part of the Scottish
Championship, which it was for a couple of years. Even when it was excluded
from the Scottish national series, Shell continued their association with the
event.
That young man has rarely missed
an event on the sainted isle since. Since then his maturity has been peppered
with life learning experiences, unbelievable adventures and memory searing
images. Standing with Chris Coburn on Tobermory Pier with a stash of White
Horse Whisky miniatures (that's another story!) because the MacDonald Arms was
bursting at the seams with rally folk. The only thing that could get near the
bar was a spider walking across the ceiling. There were 12 miniatures to a box,
but do you know something, the memory fails to recall how many boxes were
consumed that evening. Funny that!
Another lesson learned was to
ensure that a cigarette lighter's flame was turned down before lighting
up a fag. Failure to do so might result in the smoker leaning forward, cupping
his hand around the flame to light his cigarette, and failing to spot the tall
flame shoot up and ignite the skip on his baseball hat. He was last seen
wandering off into the night oblivious to his hat ablaze but no doubt impervious
to the discomfort by the amount of drink swilling about his warm internals.
Moral - baseball hats are dangerous, bunnets are far safer.
That young man was there too when
a callow youth first sauntered on to the scene (1993?) in a Mk2
Escort which had only escaped the scrappie by being pushed past the gates at
dead of night. Converted to a rally car, this self-prepared machine looked to
have all the durability of a McDonald’s Happy Meal free toy, and yet Calum
Duffy finished an incredible 10th overall. The rest is history.
And
there is so much more, MacKinnon did the dozen, a record that will never be
beaten? Then there are the names, McKnight and MacGillivray, Duffy and MacCrone,
Cope and Harper, Beecoft and Biggerstaff, Hill and Coburn, Gemmell and Griffiths
- the list is endless.
One
memory burns bright above all others. Standing there under a cloudless, star-lit
sky, the first silvery frost nip of winter burnishing the grass and tree tops
and the cold seeping up through the feet on a banking overlooking Glen Aros. In
the distance, multiple pairs of search lights pierced the darkness as they
swept round corners and sky-lines in search of tarmac, accompanied by a distant
piercing growl which grew ever louder. A tonne of metal burst into sight on the
left, white hot exhaust glowing on the tarmac underneath, red hot brake discs
showing through the blur of spinning wheels and shot past like an Exocet
looking for trouble, trailing a twinkling cloud of cindered brake dust and
sumpguard sparks, the ears assaulted by the mechanical cacophany of the devil's
orchestra. Once seen, heard and smelled and never forgotten.
Guess
where that once young man will be in two weeks' time.
http://www.jaggybunnet.co.uk/2019/09/30-sep-beatsons-mull-preview/