Sandblast Rally: Team Finn's Debut

From the moment Dan and I decided to carry on our family dream of building and racing a rally car, I knew it would be an adventure. From the creative budgeting, to romantic weekends spent in a cold garage, it's been interesting to say the least.
You see, the co-driver seat was never intended to be mine. Our son, Zachary, was always supposed to navigate. After his passing, it fell to me. After all, Team Finn only consisted of three members. I owed it to him, and to Dan, to step up and do my best. But it was a bittersweet acceptance. As much as I loved riding shotgun on this, I would have much preferred to be cheering for my two favorite guys. Unfortunately, that wasn't the path we were sent down. So we carried on as best we could, with Zach watching over us. A rally guardian angel, if you will. 
Sandblast Rally was always in our top choices for our first event. It was the first stage rally we ever attended (as crew) so it held a special place for us. The conditions seemed great for first timers as well. And so it was decided. 
After completing all the requirements to race (physicals, licenses, logbooks, etc.) we were on our way. 
Since South Carolina is roughly a 12 hour drive from Michigan, we decided to leave a day early, just in case, and hit the road Wednesday morning. That ended up being a very wise decision, since Thursday brought brutal winter weather to nearly every state along our route. That would have been sketchy for us with a 2WD tow vehicle. Plus, it gave us an extra day to prepare, so as not to feel rushed. 
We arrived in Cheraw around noon on Thursday. Shortly after, we headed over to rally headquarters to give them a hand setting up registration. By Thursday evening, I held in my hand my first official set of stage notes. 

These were to become my Bibles for the weekend. I would study them, and treat them with due reverence. If you're not familiar with rally notes, let me explain. In rally, each car has the driver (his job is pretty obvious) and a co-driver. The co-driver (or navigator) has to tell the driver what to to, where to go, and more. You are given a book of Stage Notes, which you read during the race to direct the driver of what is ahead. Turns, cautions, jumps, etc. These are written in what I refer to as Rally Hieroglyphics, but are actually called Jemba notes. They look like this:

The second and smaller book is a Road Book. In this, you have your transits. Directions guiding you from stage to stage, to services, and eventually, to your finish location. This is crucial. You have a limited time to arrive to your destination, and getting lost on transit could cost you penalties, which can result in poor finishes overall. So you have to pay close attention to your Road Book. This book is written in Tulips. No, not the flower. Tulips are a form of directions that are very basic. They look like this:

You're told your mileage, the arrow points the direction, and you are given the road name, or a point of reference. Easy peasy, right? 
So Friday began with a Novice Orientation class, where you're taught the basics of what you need to know. Safety, rules, and so on. After that, we headed straight to Scrutineering (otherwise known as Tech) to have the car and our gear looked over to ensure it met all of the requirements. We passed that, and off we went to Shakedown. Shakedown is essentially a small section of road that is similar in conditions to what you will find once on stage. It gives teams the opportunity to test the car and make any last minute tweaks or changes to suspension, tires, or whatever else. For us, it was our first time in real stage conditions. Full safety gear on, reading notes, and running at stage paces. 

Team Finn at Shakedown. Photo courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.

It felt good. Dan ran at what I would call a less than "taking it easy" pace, but we had no issues, and the notes were spot on. We made two passes, took a break, and intended on running more, but time ran out before we could. From Shakedown, we drove into downtown Chesterfield for Friday night Parc Expose. This is essentially a car show. All the competitors park the cars, hang out, and talk to locals, fans, and other competitors. After a couple hours of this, we headed to dinner (thanks Matt) before we went back to the hotel for some last minute Stage Note work and a good nights sleep before the big day.
Saturday morning brought sunshine and better weather. We suited up, and headed back into Chesterfield for more Parc Expose and a drivers meeting before the start.

At this point, I was feeling nervous, but less so than I expected. Dan was just fine. (Go figure.) After lots of laughs, some last minute note changes (thanks Liz!) and hugs from our crew and friends, we hopped in the car and lined up. 
The countdown had begun. This was it.... we were really doing this. I sent a little silent message to our guardian angel, and in no time we were off. 
First 2 stages went as smoothly as they could have. Dan was flawless, and I was not quite flawless, but finding my rhythm. After Stage 2, we headed in for our first service. After removing a child's sandbox from our wheels, hitting the bathrooms, and chatting with our awesome crew, we headed back out for Stage 3. Aside from a close call with a tree, we were still doing well, and putting in great stage times. By Stage 4, Dan was driving like an old pro. I still wasn't feeling super confident in my note reading, but he told me I was doing great, which helped. After Stage 4, we headed in for a quick fuel only service, and were back out to Stage 5. At the start of Stage 5, we encountered some delays, due to a biker having gone down and being injured. This shook me a bit, especially since, at the time, no one had much information on how he was doing. This stage was also the one that had received a substantial route change, and we had very little notes for that portion. We had already run it from one direction (changes had been at the end) but this was the reverse, which put the note changes at the beginning, and could potentially mess me up for the remainder of the stage. After the replacement ambulance arrived, the cars were back on stage. Dan did great, but the route changes definitely made me stumble. It took me a bit to get back on track, and to say the least, I was flustered. I was grateful to be headed back in for a long service to try to shake off my frustration. After a quick bite to eat, another sandbox removal, and some socializing, we headed back out for Stage 6. This stage was a complete fail for me. I had a few pages stick together in my book (damn sweaty hands) and it took me nearly to the end of the stage to get back on track. Add to that the fact that the sun was at the "You don't need to see right now." point of sunset, and Dan drove that stage blind on all counts. I have no idea how he managed to keep us on course, but I clearly owe him massive sexual favors for that one. 

On stage photo of Team Finn, courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.

 At this point, I'm very frustrated with myself. Dan (bless his heart) kept telling me it was fine, and was very encouraging, but I knew better. I had been less than stellar for the previous two stages. We pulled into the time control for the final stage, and encountered another delay. This gave us some time to allow the sun to set, and for us to chat with other competitors. There were many DNFs (did not finish) at this point. Many of them seasoned racers. With my confidence dwindling, and us with only one stage left to go, I was feeling some pressure. I needed to get my shit together on this one. This stage was filled with tight turns, and one bad note or mistake could cost us the whole race. We had come into this with only one major goal, and that was just to finish. We were so close. Delay over, and cars were back in line. I sent yet another silent message out to Zach to keep an eye on us, and I took a deep breath and tried to get out of my own head. The final stage was insane. It got dark FAST, and we quickly learned our one small light bar was not enough. Dan was flying, and even though my notes were on, we still came into a "dip" way too hot, sending the front end in HARD and launching us into the air. The gravel that rained down seemed to be in slow motion as we waited to see smoke from a busted radiator and front end. In what felt like forever, but was probably less than 3 seconds, Dan assessed our damage (or lack thereof) and we were back at it. After passing a fellow competitor on stage, we crossed the final finish. The emotions hit me like a train at full speed. I managed to hold it together (mostly) long enough to transit to our finish, but when we pulled in for the final time control and saw our crew & friends standing there cheering for us with huge smiles.... I lost it. That moment will forever be ingrained in my memory. 
(I wish I had held it together just a few moments longer though, because unfortunately, that last time control cost us big time. Some false information and our lack of experience ended up costing us a 4 minute penalty, as I discovered later on. But I don't want to get into that. I'm still a little salty about it.)
We had finished. We achieved what we had set out to do, and I was beyond thrilled. I couldn't stop the tears. My crew (and some others) engulfed me in a huge group hug and it was at that moment that I knew we had made Zach proud. It's an overwhelming feeling that I cannot describe. Bittersweet, raw emotion. 
After the awards dinner, we headed back to our hotel, high on adrenaline and feeling a little bit like rock stars. The next morning, we loaded up and went to lunch with our crew, before hitting the road for the long haul back home. 

My favorite picture from the weekend, with our AMAZING crew.  Courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.

It's now Tuesday. The rally high is gone, and the rally hangover is fading, and yet, it all still feels a little unreal to me. Like it was all a dream, and I'm still waiting to wake up at any moment. I still can't believe that we did it. When we began this journey, it felt nearly impossible. Like one of those bucket list items that you hope happens, but know might never be accomplished. But we did it. The road that brought us to this point was by far more difficult and rough than any rally stage you could throw at us. We fought our way back from the edge of despair, and we made Zach's dream a reality. And this is just the beginning....