That wraps it up

And so to summarise:

Day 1 - 200km then the clutch let go.  Towed out by Sweep Team: https://www.facebook.com/newtrixracingdubai/videos/1152555621533959/

Day 2 - Ali Al Shawi's mechanics pull out engine, replace clutch friction plate
Day 3 - Took the start, pulled out at Moreeb, drove to PC1 on the blacktop, did PC1 to PC2 then bailed again.  Beast (and Sheila) well down on power
Day 4 - Welded up the exhaust and replaced the brake master cylinder.  Beast now fettled.

The Beast appears to have eaten my mechanics

So that brings up up to Day 5, which went extremely well - apart from one bad decision which left us stuck in some ridiculously soft sand halfway up a dune.  Fortunately we were rescued by car 228, Ahmad Al Malki's Isuzu, who gave us a massive tow out.  Thanks guys!  The Beast was once more on top form, handling everything we could throw at it without complaint.  (Except when we hit a hard tussock with the front right wheel, causing the top left side of the windscreen to shatter - go figure!)

So we ended the stage in 18th place, ensuring a classified 25th place finish overall.  Nasser Al-Attiyeh, by contrast, was leading at the start of the final day by an hour and 40 minutes from Sh. Khalid Al Qassemi - then pitch-poled his Hilux it on a sand spit, and was unable to finish.  One mistake is all it takes to go from hero to zero.

The day ended as usual with prize-giving, dinner and excessive alcohol consumption before being evicted from the Y-Bar at 2.00am.

Massive thanks are due to the entire team -
Rick, Jason and Phil for their unstinting hard work and expertise,
Kate and Cristina for racing off to collect a clutch,
Tim for fetching the clutch,
Sabertooth Motorsports and Rob Bryan at 1000 Dunes Garage for supplying the clutch,
Ali Al Shawi and Dakar Garage for fitting the clutch
Ahmad Al Malki for pulling our chestnuts out of the fire
And last but not least, Sheila (my better half and trusty co-driver) who battled ill-health to complete our run of 10 consecutive Desert Challenge appearances.

So what does the future hold?  Well, the Beast is up for sale. so if you have Dh 180k (o.n.o) looking for a good home, give me a call.  We may decide to get a buggy instead and compete in National Class at the EDC.  We've looked at the Yamaha YXZ 1000, and are hoping to get a test drive in a Can-Am X3.

So watch this space...

Exhausting work, the Desert Challenge

So THAT's a spanner. Got it.

So, we raced on Day 1 and had a rest on Day 2. But with the car apparently back in fine fettle, on Day 3, Ian and Sheila put the pedal to the metal. Back into the dunes and, unfortunately, back into the furnace. Again the heat was taking its toll on riders, drivers and co-drivers alike, and it was not long before Sheila was feeling unwell. Not only that, but the The Beast was being beastly and Ian was struggling to maintain momentum through the dunes. A distinct lack of power made the car difficult, even dangerous to drive, and after battling with the elements for a few hours, our dynamic duo decided they'd rather be the drive home duo, so that's what they did.

There's no point battling the terrain and the heat when you're feeling unwell and the car's not at its best. That's when accidents happen, and Ian and Sheila have enough experience in the race to know when to back off. Discretion is after all, the better part of valour. Just like the chocolate is the better part of a Crème Egg.



Surrounded by the beauty of the desert,
Rick saw the light.

So back to the bivvy they bowled, where Rick, Phil, Jason, Cristina, Kate, Beaky Mick and Titch threw themselves bodily at the vehicle and started taking things off. The vehicle, obviously, not themselves, for that would be smutty and vulgar and we're not THAT kind of team.

Ian was exhausted, Sheila was exhausted and, we soon discovered, The Beast was exhausted. Or rather, it wasn't exhausted, for The Beast's exhaust was not all it's cracked up to be. Or rather, it was, in that the exhaust was cracked, where it's not supposed to be. Sorry, I'm cracking up. So that explained the lack of power. Instead there was a lot of hot air, all of it in the wrong place, and where there ought to have been power, there was none, meanwhile there were noxious fumes where there shouldn't be. Think of it as Donald Trump.

Oh and did I mention the missing headlight? Not a major problem you'd imagine, during a daylight race, but it was the impact with the orange buggy which knocked the headlight out, which was the real problem. Damage here and there, bodies and body work bruised, but no personal harm done.


The Liwa Bearded Weirdies and Shunters Club

So the lads and laddesses worked through the night again to try to reassemble bits with bits and bobs with bobs. About 3am Bob came over and asked for his bits back, so that left us with a bit and a bob missing. Fortunately it's Bob a Job week in England so we gave Rick a bob and he got on with the job. By this morning (Wednesday, Day 4) though the team made a call; The guys were still working on issues with the car, and Sheila still wasn't feeling at her best, so the decision was made to take the day off.

Not something we usually do in the middle of a race, but we were well past the middle, by about 12 hours, so that was OK then, and we all had a nice cup of tea and a lie down. Jason and Phil decided to go to Qasr Al Sarab hotel this evening and enjoy some fine dining, but were refused admission because the 5 Star hotel 'does not accept walk in diners'. We're guessing that only applies when they walk in looking like hard working mechanics who've been under a car in the desert for 3 days and nights.


Phil's rubbish at Hide and Seek.

The upshot is that The Beast is now quite Beastly again, and Rick has once again been playing with welding rods. (It's safer than letting him shoot things - he's REALLY good at that!). So Ian and Sheila will be able to complete the DC by driving over the Finish Ramp, at at that point, there may be a special team announcement. (I'm not sure but I think Phil and Jason may have got engaged. But that's just a rumour which I started about eight seconds ago)
 

Into the clutches of the desert.

Yesterday's report, today. Try to keep up. I'll ask questions tomorrow.

Ian and Sheila singing, "I believe I can fly"

So, Day 1, the first proper race day in the dunes, and usually a day when the organisers have just a modicum of sympathy for the racers so the course is slightly shorter and easier than the following days. Of course Mother Nature in her infinite wisdom decided that meant the competitors were all pansies, so she turned the wick up. RIGHT up. Many of the moto riders, including friends of the team Alan Boyter and David Mabbs, retired from the race due to heat exhaustion, or accidents brought about by the effects of the same. Ian and Sheila didn't succumb to the heat but sadly, after making good progress for the first 200kms or so of the stage, The Beast did.

Without warning and with no prior indications that there was a problem, suddenly Ian discovered he had no drive. No efforts to engage drive seemed to help, and after a while, they called in the A Team to come and rescue them from the clutches of the dunes.Which was ironic since as they would find out later - much later - it was in fact the clutch which was FUBAR.



The underside of a UFO

 Nor was that the only drama, for as Rick and Kate were driving out to the point on the road where the fantastic Sweep Team had recovered The Beast, their own Patrol (actually Ian's Patrol, not Rick's Patrol, although he does have one, nor Dawn's Patrol) overheated, meaning they had to abandon their attempt to meet The Beast, so Jason drove up instead and stood guard over the race car whilst Ian and Sheila, who had no clothes (well, obviously they had SOME clothes - their sweaty race overalls) headed back to the bivouac with somebody (frankly I've lost track) and then couldn't shower. Yeeuch.

So Jason spent his birthday baby sitting a sorry looking Patrol, Rick spent his evening fixing a different Patrol, Kate did some knitting, Cristina contemplated the solar system, Phil wondered where everyone had buggered off to, and The Phantom Blogger (oh, that's me) worked out how to blog.

Finally The Beast got a lift to the bivouac and Rick and others ( I know not whom but I guess Jason and Phil) ripped its innards outward, decided the clutch was bereft of life, and summonsed T-Phlog sur la telling-bone. "Though shalt go to 1000 Dunes garage at 8 am tomorrow, go to the main workshop doors, walk inside 8 paces. 7 paces is too few, 9 paces is too many, and 10 paces is WAY out. Turn left, walk 5 paces (not 4, not 6) forward, reach down with your right hand and LO, there shall be a box marked "This is the clutch you are looking for" at your finger tips. Collect said clutch and anything else you can lay your hands on, jump into a rapid automobile and drive, drive like the wind, for yet another illicit liaison with the great Kate. Don't be late, remember, start at eight."


Today's News now - well done, you've caught up.


No-trix racing today so...
"Sam Sunderland"

So I was all ready to do so at 7.15 this morning when I received a message. "It's the gearbox, delay your visit to 1000 Dunes". So I did, and had a nice cup of coffee, disturbed by Rick's urgent phone call at 8. "No, only kidding, now it's 45 minutes later and we wish you were there, it's the clutch, hop to it, sharpish now, stop buggering about". You know that noise Muttley used to make when Dick Dastardly annoyed him? That.

So great haste was made, clutches were clutched, doors were slammed, petrol was consumed, roads were punished, and I was rewarded with hugs and kisses by not one but TWO fair maidens at the side of the road halfway to Qasr Al Sarab - underneath a never opened restaurant disguised as a giant Land Rover, and in full daylight! Which makes a change because when Kate and I usually meet, she likes to switch the lights off.

Cristina proved her petrol-head credentials by looking at one of my car tyres and saying 'Looks a bit flat' and lo (low?), she was right. A difference of only 4 psi (37 not 41 - yes it's high but so would you be driving at 140kmh when the outside temperature is 50C) but well spotted that girl.

They raced back, I raced forward, Rick paced backwards and forwards, Phil was a little forward, Jason laid back, and Ian and Sheila spent the day in a bar getting wasted (it's not true but hey, this story needs an angle - Fake News!!)

Metallic things were bolted, unbolted, wobbled around, lubricated, aligned, spanked, torqued to nicely and generally manipulated, until The Beast was a car again and the whole team had a beer. But of course, being Newtrix, that wasn't straight forward, oh no. The clutch plate was a different diameter, so the flywheel didn't match, and the replacement flywheel had no starter gear ring, so that had to be fitted, and we're using the old release plate, new fly wheel, new clutch etc. Once that was finally finished, Ian and Rick took it for a test drive, got stuck, there was no phone reception, so they couldn't call for help, they walked back to the bivouac, Jason went out and winched them out the sand, etc. etc. etc. Just another day at the DC really!

Some like it hot. And muddy.

Lights, camera, "Action"

It's that time of year again, when all hell breaks loose in The Empty Quarter, Ian and Sheila go off in search of glory, Rick and Kate go off in search of paradise, Jason goes in search of his birthday presents but ends up in the desert anyway, and Phil asks himself what the hell he was thinking. Yes, it's DC time! Nothing to do with David Coulthard, other than a bit of stubble and a crash helmet, it's the other DC, you know the one - "Damaged Car". But I'm getting ahead of myself, which, given how slow I am, is not very difficult.

The Beast's behind.

Yes 'tis I, the Phantom of the Blogger, soon to be the subject of a terminally dull musical by Andrew Webbed Feet and starring Sarah Brightspark for no other reason than she's ever present in his worst musicals. i.e. all of them. She'll be wearing half a mask, which is a shame because it's Mr. Webbed Feet who should probably wear the mask. But anyway, I digest.

Those of you who were expecting me yesterday probably forgot to reset your clocks last weekend. Either that or I must apologise; "If there weren't no bloggin', it's 'cos I couldn't log in". For some reason (probably my age and decrepit brain cells weakened due to excessive consumption of Cabernet Shiraz grapes as a food source. I thought "5 a day" was a glasses of wine requirement) I was unable to access Mr. Barker's secret code and sign into the blog, so I swore. Today however, using, I swear, the exact same passwords, "I got in". Hurrah - no more swearing.

"No wheels!". Give me wings....

"Prologues" I hear you say and yes, there was one. Now for the purposes of this post, I'm going to pretend that today was yesterday, so here is 'today's' report from the prologue........."Not as muddy as last year, otherwise exactly the same". i.e. rather like 2015's, but a lot less dusty. The cars went round and round, the bikes went round and round, local hero AND 2017 DAKAR WINNER Sam Sunderland won the prologue in front of an adoring home crowd (at least three of his mates were there) Nasser Al Attiyeh did as Nasser always does and won the prologue in the Autos, and Ian and Sheila sauntered round in a sauntery fashion, which is like Primark fashion but MUCH more expensive - because racing cars cost more than racy cardigans. Do Primark even sell racy cardigans? Sexy sweaters? Pullover Provocateurs? Maybe not. But anyway, I divest.

Muddy car, jet wash, generator.
Just add water. 250 litres of water.

A veritable plethora of horsepower and automotive engineering was on hand to support In'she'la including a Patrol, a Raptor, a three tonne truck and a sexy six tonne truck. The Patrol is Ian's, the Raptor is Ian's, the three tonner is Ian's (OK it's Al Thika's) and the sexy six tonner complete with 250 litre water tank, is Tim's Travel Truck, and it rocks. Doubling up as a temporary fire engine, Tim brought his mobile water supply so the Beast could have a wash after the race. So once Ian was clean, Rick then used the jet wash and cleaned the race truck too. Much mud was removed and then we walked in looking like dynamite with our Tiger Feet. Sorry - too much Mud? The Sweet were better anyway.

Georgy Gomshiashvili (who wins today's blog award for the most difficult name to spell correctly first time) who races in the EDC with his Saluki built buggy, was so impressed by the team's car wash facility that he asked if he could bring his along too. For a moment the Newtrix team were hesitant but then Georgy said the magic word - "Beer" - and was immediately welcomed with open arms.

Ian and Sheila finished the prologue in 24th place, making a mockery of their 25th place seeding. Mind you with the rain we've been having lately, most seeds are doing better than expected this season. Tomorrow is another day (no it's not, see the 4th paragraph) and it's off to the desert we go. Tonight (last night) however there will be much quenching of thirsts. Damn it was hot out there (yes(today).