Words by Mike Pavelin

It all started with a conversation I had with my old mate Iggy in early December 2005. I was still enjoying my pay’n play trips out in my modified‘91 XJ Cherokee 4.0, but was looking for something a bit more adventurous to do in ’06. Iggy was keen to get involved in some kind of motor sport and had thoroughly enjoyed being my passenger on a Jeepclub organised trip to Broxhead about a year before.

I had recently come across the Mac 4x4 Challenge on the net. This was a 2 day endurance event testing the crew’s driving and navigational skills over a secret route of up to 1000 miles. What a great idea. Raising funds for Macmillan Cancer Relief and getting to take part in a 2 day event in the Jeep looked like a great opportunity.

Iggy was all for it, so I contacted the organisers. I was told that the entry list was almost full and to get my entry in fast. That day I posted the entry form and cheque and crossed my fingers. Just before Christmas, I was out on the road working when I received a call. We had secured the last entry. I was delighted, and phoned Iggy right away. He was well chuffed. We didn’t really know what to expect, but we were in!

Once the usual Christmas and New Year mayhem had come and gone, we got together and made a few plans. Firstly we had to raise a minimum of £500 for Macmillan, including the £100 entry fee. Both having business commitments as well as the usual family stuff, this looked like a tall order. We decided to use our business contacts, Jeep related forums as well as the usual friends and family as our main sources for potential sponsors. A page was set up on Justgiving.com to make the process easy for online sponsors. We set a target of £1000, the average figure raised per crew on the ’05 event. I made up a list of jobs to do on the Jeep to make life on an endurance event more tolerable, and we awaited more news from the Mac team.

Early in February the regs were issued. This includes a list of equipment to be taken in the vehicles. The usual sensible stuff, warning triangle, fire extinguisher, first aid kit etc. I had been fettling the Jeep in the meantime. A bit of corrosion in the boot floor had to be welded properly as it was near the seat belt anchorages. High powered headlamp bulbs were installed along with uprated wiring to protect the fragile Cherokee electrics. The rear seat was junked and some strong lashing points fitted to the floor to allow me to secure our stuff safely in plastic crates using ratchet straps. The HiLift jack was always a pain to store safely, so I fitted it onto the rear mounted spare tyre carrier out of harm’s way. The Jeep was fully serviced, the cracked windscreen replaced, and the very noisy Bronco Grizzly Claw tyres replaced with less aggressive Goodyear MTRs as we would be doing a lot of tarmac mileage.

By this time the event was looming large. We had never done anything like this before, so Steve from FTE offered to give us a lesson in rally navigation. One night in a pub in darkest Essex, he instructed us in the finer points of reading OS maps, tulip diagrams and the kind of things the organisers might do to catch us out. Following this he handed us a sample road book and said he’d see us at wherever we were supposed to end up. Off we went, into the night, Myself at the wheel and Iggy trying out the newly installed map reading light. We followed the tulips Steve had provided and ended up where we started. We waited for Steve to show up. Five minutes later the phone rings. “Where are you?" Laughs Steve “We’re at the pub" I reply. “I told you to read all the instructions all the way through didn’t I?" D’oh! We’d been so keen to get through the road book quickly, we hadn’t read the last tulip properly, Steve was at the next pub along. A lesson we did not forget later on.

By the end of February, donations to Macmillan had been coming in steadily both through Justgiving and cash and cheque donations handed to us. People proved to be very enthusiastic about Macmillan Cancer Relief. I believe this is because it is a charity that everybody can relate to. It’s a sad fact that everyone is likely to be affected by cancer either directly or indirectly. As March arrived the total approached £800 and we were confident we would reach our target. We had been unable to put as much effort into fundraising as we had liked to have done. Both of us were very busy with work, and my wife, Tricia, sadly lost her father in the preceding weeks. Frequent bulletins on the forums had kept the Jeep community interested, and they had been exceptionally supportive and generous.

As the last few days approached, we were all set. The Jeep was ready, we had gathered all our stuff, and had our final instructions. Regular visits to the excellent Mac 4x4 Forum had allowed us to get to know some other competitors, and we arranged to meet a convoy at Chiveley services on the M4. A 9AM start and a motorway service breakfast saw us at the rendezvous at midday. After a bit of chat and the obligatory tyre kicking team 50 and the others (10 Pajeros and a Disco) were off to Clyro.

We arrived on time for the 4pm signing on and scrutineering, parking up in the shadow of the Baskerville Hall Hotel. This spooky old house is said to be the inspiration for the Baskerville Hall in the Sherlock Holmes story. The tiny filling station nearby hits the jackpot, the 50 fuel hungry 4x4s are all over it like a cheap suit. We tot up the donations we had collected prior to handing them over, £1400! This was far more than we had hoped for and a fantastic result.

We’d already been on the road for 11 hours as the start time approached. Entrants chatted and munched on cholesterol burgers and strong coffee. Others fiddled with their vehicles and applied race decals. We had had a pre start briefing, which had left us clueless apart form telling us to start in number order. The first vehicle rolled off into the darkness at 8pm, 50 minutes later and it’s our turn. The official hands Iggy his first road book, 30 seconds to go, and we’re off! Down the track to the main road I drive as Iggy scans the instructions. It’s tulips, just like Steve had showed us, so we get on with the business of reaching our first destination. The road book gives mileages between manoeuvres, and I’m struggling to read the old fashioned mechanical odometer in my dash, but we make it to our first check point without many problems, the faster Cherokee dispatching many a Landrover on the hilly roads.

The checkpoint is at a farm. We’re directed to an offroad course leading directly off the farmyard. “take this sheet and look for pictures and symbols on the way" instructs the marshal. It’s very wet and muddy and we set off in 4 lo onto the undulating track. Everybody has as much lighting as they can muster switched on as we scan the gloom for letters sprayed on trees and boards hanging from branches. It’s raining and difficult to see. The MTRs work well as we crawl through on hand throttle. We make it through to the end and hand in our sheet. No-one knows how many object there were, we don’t think we found many of them. A woman with a jetwash blasts the mud from our headlights as we queue to collect our next road book.

Tulips again, Iggy confidently guides us toward our next destination. He’s glanced at the instructions at the end of the route. “Join the ferry at Fishguard. Enjoy your adventure" We get on with the job of getting there and arrive at the ferry terminal at about 1.30 am. We join the queue of 4x4 waiting for the 02.30 sailing. Where are we going? Rosslare in Ireland!

We suspected we were going to Ireland, but being unfamiliar with the area weren’t sure until we got to the terminal. We are handed our next road book as we board the ferry, now tired from the long day 100 weary 4x4 crew set up camp on board and open up their instructions. It’s now onto maps. We have a road book with grid references, photocopied fragments of maps and questions about things we’ll see along the route. Thankfully the next destination involves breakfast. We plot our route and spend the remainder of the 3 hour crossing attempting to grab some sleep on the sofas and floors of the ferry.

06.30 on Saturday morning and feeling rough, we drive off the ferry. We refuel and head off into the Irish countryside. This section is harder. The narrow lanes are not signposted well, and with all the new construction underway in the area, new turnings have sprouted that don’t appear on the fragments of map we’ve been given. We look out for the clues along the way." Who owns the garage on the junction?" “What colour are the cows in the field?" This is a treasure hunt on a grand scale. We pass other competitors who stop to review their maps, and others pass in the opposite direction. Who is going the wrong way, them or us? We elect to skip some clues that we can’t find. As the morning goes on, the brakes feel a bit strange The Jeep starts pulling to the centre of the road, is it a puncture? No. I know what this is. I reluctantly find a lay-by and have a look. The right hand front brake disc is red hot, there is smoke pouring from the wheel.

This is not good. I realise the brake calliper has seized and we have a problem. If I can’t sort it, it’s a long ride home to Essex on a truck. The honour of the marque is at stake here and we can’t let our sponsors down now. With the Jeep perched on the Hi-Lift and the wheel off, the calliper is still holding on. Everything is too hot to touch, I have gloves on as I unbolt it. I have to pry it off as it is gripping the disc so hard. The pads are toast and the disc is blue. Boiling grease oozes out of the hub bearing. As the whole lot cools, we struggle to free the jammed calliper. The fragile Bakelite piston has been cooked and is beginning to crumble under the pressure as we squeeze it into the calliper. We open up the bleed nipple to ease the pressure as it finally moves. We wave fellow competitors on who stop to offer help, I fit some new pads and cross my fingers. We pack the tools away and head off.

Back on the road, we’ve lost nearly an hour and need to get to our check point by 8am. The brakes are pulling to the left now, I must have let air into the hydraulics, but at least the calliper is staying free. We decide to skip the hunt for the last few clues and arrive at the café in time for a well earned breakfast. The brake has stayed cool and the hub bearing is holding up. We relax for half an hour. Bacon and eggs has never tasted so good. Back in the car park we bleed the brakes and collect our next road book.

For mile after mile Iggy directs me through the countryside. Thankfully the brakes feel ok, but I take it easy just in case. There are some pretty cryptic questions to answer on the way. Sometimes we stop and do a section twice in case we’ve overshot. The route takes us into a forested area. The narrow forestry tracks are confusing and we think we’ve gone wrong. Then meet other competitors coming from the opposite direction and discover we’ve missed a turn and rejoined the route further along the main road. We turn around and now the road book makes sense.

Out onto the main roads again we next arrive at a farm. At the gate we’re directed to a field. We have to follow arrows around the perimeter of the fields while collecting the symbols on boards scattered along the route. It’s very wet and the ruts are deep. The jeep cruises around the course while some other vehicles struggle in the deep mud. We clear the end of the trail and collect the final road book of the day.

Last stop is Dublin but our next destination is an inn. We arrive ahead of most of the others and, expecting a checkpoint, are surprised to find no marshals there. No worries, with roast beef on the menu, a late spot of luncheon is in order, we tuck in and then plot our route to Dublin as other Mac competitors roll in and out. It’s freezing and the rain is pouring down as we refuel and head for Dublin.

“Reach the ferry terminal by 19.30 hrs" is our final instruction in the road book. We work our way through the route, noting the answers to the questions whenever we can. Darkness falls as we approach the city and the instructions run out. We have no detailed map of the area but have plenty of time. Traffic is heavy and there don’t appear to be any signs to the ferry terminal. I have to rely on Iggy’s superior sense of direction, the compass says we’re pointing the right way, so I thread the Jeep through the traffic under his guidance. We circle one way systems and do battle with taxis and buses as the time ticks away. I’m getting frustrated, we spot a sign, then the signs vanish again. Finally, as our deadline approaches we spot the terminal and pull up just in time amongst the queue of weary crews. The others are grumbling about getting lost finding the terminal, a couple of crews went to the nearby Dunleary terminal first, at least we weren’t alone, which made us feel better about our own ordeal.

Another 3 hour crossing takes us to Holyhead where we’ve been promised a 6 hour break at Anglesey race circuit. We snack and nap on the ferry. 1am and we head towards the circuit in the horizontal rain. At the circuit it’s freezing, wet and there’s a gale blowing. We don’t feel like sleeping now, but we heat the inside of the Jeep and wrap ourselves in sleeping bags. Once the engine’s off, the temperature plummets but we get a few hours sleep before daylight. The next morning there’s a burger van on hand. Breakfast and coffee revives the hundred strong group as track day enthusiasts begin to arrive for a morning’s play. We all squeeze into the circuit’s portakabin for a briefing. We headed for Snowdonia and the weather is bad. “have you all got shovels?" the official asks “I haven’t, but by wife has!" a voice in the crowd replies. We all chuckle as we file out and get our 4x4s into starting order.

We’re handed our last road book at the start line and head off the circuit. As others speed off to find the route off of Anglesey we pull over in a car park to check our map. A middle aged man with a surf board is drying himself off. It’s just above freezing and he’s in swimming trunks. As we drive away we conclude he’s even madder than us. We head for the bridge off the island, now we’re using a full OS map with 6 digit grid references. We have destination points to reach, but some of the route is down to us to work out. If we go the wrong way we’ll lose points as we won’t find our clues. Our final destination for this section is another café. The route takes us through beautiful countryside. As we venture into the mountains the snow becomes deeper but the roads are still clear. All the time we’re climbing, we catch up with some Landrovers and convoy through the twists and turns. The scenery is stunning, Iggy remarks that he’ll have to come back with his family for a holiday, in the meantime the roads are becoming treacherous, slowing our progress.

The Jeep needs fuel so we stop to fill up and use the facilities. As we catch up with the others, the roadbook has them scattered in all directions. Are we going east or west now? Some go west, pass others headed east, then turn around a couple of times. The competitors circle and all finally head off east. We continue until we spot a marshal at a junction. Part of the route is blocked so we have to take a detour. The single track road is now covered in black ice and snow. Iggy studies the OS map as I carefully steer the Jeep through the snow and call out landmarks allowing him to plot our progress. The last clue was obvious for vintage telly addicts “the Cartwright’s ranch" so I knew we were headed for something called “Ponderosa" The high winds are whipping snow off the mountains and it is forming drifts across the roads, I’m really enjoying the challenging driving. Visibility is terrible and we can hardly stand up against the wind as we stop for a photo call. We move off again and come to a tourist café. Disappointingly it’s closed, but it’s called “The Ponderosa" As locals slide down the slopes on plastic sledges, the group assembles in the car park awaiting final instructions.

Bad news. The last section has been cancelled for safety reasons. Some of us want to go on but it’s not possible. Even the car park is treacherous. It’s coated in black ice and even standing still is nearly impossible because the icy wind is so strong. Ice forms on the parked vehicles as we wait to move on. The event is over for us and the convoy heads to our final destination, Daresbury Hotel near Warrington.

After three days in the saddle the comfortable hotel couldn’t be more appealing. Hot showers, Fresh clothes and real food. The bar prices are steep but we don’t care. We’re all early so there’s time to relax before the presentation dinner. Some grab some sleep, others stay in the bar, Team 50 hit the pool and sauna for a well earned detox. Then we don smart suits and attend the presentation dinner. A 3 course meal is followed by a prize giving. We don’t win anything, coming 30th overall, but are more than pleased just to have finished. The spirit of the event award goes to a crew that towed another team halfway across Ireland. By the time the charity auction begins certain crews are worse for wear with drink, there is some light hearted banter between the Landrover and Pajero factions. One Paj team purchases a year planner packed in a cardboard tube, only to find it’s actually a set of LR brochures cunningly disguised by a Landrover crew wishing to impose their taste in automobiles on the Jap enthusiasts. It only owes him a quid so he swiftly repacks it and slips it back into the sale, It sells again for a tenner. We’ve had enough by now, we slip out and hit the sack. Next day ( Monday ) we have a late breakfast and take a leisurely drive back to Essex, thoroughly satisfies with our weekend’s work.

The event was a great experience and I would thoroughly recommend this event to anyone who wants a chance to drive some fantastic and challenging routes while raising funds for a charity which is relevant to anyone reading this article. Anyone can enter, All you need is a 4x4 vehicle, a crew of two and a spare weekend in March. It is designed for standard vehicles with all terrain or mud tyres and a few required pieces of commonsense safety equipment. Entries for 2007 are now open, you can download the form at www.Mac4x4.co.uk.

Finally, on behalf of team 50 (Mike Pavelin and Iggy Quazi) and Macmillan Cancer Relief, thanks to everybody who gave sponsorship help and support. I won’t attempt to list them all here for fear of missing someone, but you know who you are.