Still waiting for name and nationality confirmation for drivers and co-drivers of @LS-Vehicles, @VG33E, @abg7 and @SideswipeBL.
(@LS-Vehicles, lack of response will lead me to go to extreme measures, such as picking Swedish drivers.)
4 Likes
Oh yeah, i forgot…
Besffusci
(C2 Class) Besffusci Kresta Rally (Number #997): Driver: Diego Garcia {ESP} Reader: Marco Alfonzo Velez {ESP}
Fascia Scuderia
(C5 Class) Fascia Corsa V8 (Number #533): Driver: Giovannio Alfonsi {ITA} Reader: Giulio Spretta {ITA}
(C6 Class) Fascia Corsa V12 (Number #396): Driver: Sardone Costa {ITA} Reader: Gacilli Ricci {ITA}
We wish everyone a happy competition!
4 Likes
Done! (Sorry, i have forgot that) (Also sorry for the double post)
The LJ2 was driven by an American, Burt Howe, with Englishman Harold Parkes as his co-driver.
1 Like
I did say when I sent it in that you were going to hate the lack of power steering. That one option alone being turned off flushed the drivability of the lore-based car.
As for it being over the top, well, yeah, the 662 was always meant to be the craziest engine in our shed, even though it didn’t last long in that brutal form.
Ah well. Serves me right for putting our one timeframe-suitable lore car into the lineup. Might’ve been tempted to do more if I didn’t have to restart the game every time I want to load a new car.
2 Likes
For those of you who might be wondering what I meant by that…well, instead of doing a conventional role-play for this, I’ve decided to recycle one of my old stories (which was basically a remake of TBLT with the “Worthless” cars as humans replacing the main six and Rob/Chris) and repurpose it for this.
And yes…I’m totally not expecting Miros to send at least one of these old clunkers through some sort of punishment (like a junkyard) with the way I’m tempting fate AND pushing my limits hardcore. I’m also not sure if this is something that people would like.
The Brave Little Jalopies
Prologue (this explains some stuff that’s really necessary to know for later):
Cars:
Chapter 1
Somewhere in the American Midwest, 1973:
In the middle of a large forest, the mid-summer sun gently rose upon a white concrete warehouse that had been built right at the end of a long, winding two-lane road. The warehouse looked big enough to hold fifteen or twenty cars and had a second story for human living quarters. However, the whole building was completely devoid of vehicles. Only a few worn beige leather couches and blue cloth recliner chairs were scattered haphazardly around an old black-and-white TV, with a couple stools and tables parked at the right-side wall. Some of these had not collected much dust over the time that they had been stored; neither had the long concrete staircase, which showed many footprints stained into its surface.
As the sun’s rays creeped through an upstairs window, they landed on a bright-red Panasonic RC-6003 clock radio placed on top of a wooden bedside desk. The desk had been placed behind a twin-sized bed covered in red blankets, underneath which a bunch of slicked-back dark-red hair barely peeked out. As the radio’s dials slowly switched from 5:59 to 6:00, a resounding beeping sounded through the large bedroom, which immediately wakened the figure under the sheets. They clumped at the foot of the bed to reveal a light-skinned young man flicking a few stubborn pieces of lint off his red pajamas.
He pressed the button on the top of the radio to turn off the alarm before announcing in a distinctly southern accent, “Good mornin’, good mornin’, good mornin’. That was our Grand National reporting team recordin’ Gurney’s first victory this season for Ford. On the top of today’s global racing news, there’s some serious Mini-Citroen dueling goin’ on in France. It looks like a scandal has broken out at Monte Carlo, as ten vehicles have been disqualified due to—"
“Hey, what’s the big idea, Alex?” another man with a deeper voice snapped. “I’m trying to get some sleep.”
“Look, Tom, I’m doin’ a broadcast here, do ya mind?” Alex replied.
Tom switched on his flashlight with a sharp click.
“Woah, not right in the face, pal! Now, where was I…oh, yeah, these vehicles have been disqualified due to—"
“If I could, I would sew up your blabbering lips and glue you under your bed…” Tom spat as he got off his blue-covered bed and walked towards Alex’s counterpart. “Permanently!”
“Sorry, folks, we seem to be experiencing some technical difficulties around here,” Alex said as he inched into his red slippers, “but Ah’m sure it’s nothing we can’t…handle!”
Tom barely missed Alex as the latter scuttled around his attacker and ran behind the bed. “Woah, this just in!” Alex continued. “Looks like there’s a fight in the grandstands—"
Tom bonked him on the head before he plopped down on the red bed with a clunk. “Never hear your own thoughts with all this racket around here,” he sighed.
Suddenly, Tom was pushed off Alex’s bed and onto the blue carpeted floor. “What were you thinking, kid?!” Tom yelled. “You could’ve broken my back!”
“Ah’m thinkin’ ya think too much, pal!” Alex said as he clambered back onto his bed. “What we need ‘round here is some wakeup music!”
“Oh, please—” Tom retorted as he adjusted the collar on his blue pajamas.
Unfortunately for Tom, Alex had already broken into song before he suddenly leaped off the bed and landed on the floor. The whole building shuddered slightly as the two men bickered and sprinted out the room, leaving a blond-haired man sitting near a window to glare up at the ceiling through his round glasses. He wore a faded blue-and-red racing suit with a red number ‘8’ stitched onto its front. He was busy fiddling with his thick mustache when he sniffed in a cloud of pollen lingering in the air. He almost gagged on the allergic substance, causing him to sneeze violently into his shirt sleeve. This awakened another man – who wore a green jacket over his brown shirt and green slacks - sleeping in a large cupboard under the stairs. He burst into action sweeping up the area near his ‘friend’ with his broom. His unkempt grey hair and mustache frizzed wildly as he quickly scooped up some dust into a small blue shovel. After he deemed the bare-concrete area dust-free enough, he smiled and trundled back towards his sleeping quarters.
“I’m gonna chase you to the ends of this earth!” Tom yelled as he watched his rival race towards the steps.
Alex hopped down the staircase enthusiastically while saying, “Hamilton takes the lead, Pearson slides on the inside, the Superbird races to the finish line…”
“Just wait ‘till I get my hands on you!”
“An’ the crowd goes wild as Hamilton wins the Daytona 500!” Alex cheered as he walked past the green-vested man, who scowled indignantly at the enthusiastic youth.
Meanwhile, a blond-haired, medium-skinned young woman in a yellow-and-brown swimsuit was walking down another staircase at the back of the warehouse. Her silver sandals flipped and flopped on her feet before she laughed at Alex and Tom’s antics. The former man hopped towards a small round table and hid behind it as the latter ran towards him.
“Hey, come over here, kid! I’m gonna get you!” Tom snapped.
“You dare ta cross trails with the greatest demo-derby contender in the land?” Alex snarled as he moved from one side of the table to another. “Have ya any inkling who you’re dealin’ with?”
The tanned woman laughed again as Tom spat, “Precisely. A total self-absorbed idiot!”
“If your car slides as loosely as your slimy Northern tongue, you shall be eliminated in an instant! Defend yourself, Sir Thomas of Topsfield!”
The tanned lady giggled as she watched Alex playfully poke Tom repeatedly. Another woman – much paler than the first – wearing a short pink-and-silver dress and curly pink hair slid down the first staircase and straight into Tom and Alex, sending all three of them to the floor. This did nothing to stop the duo’s contention, however, as Alex continued to poke Tom under the lady’s minimal bulk.
“A blow for Richard!” Alex said.
“Ouch!” Tom exclaimed.
“A blow for Maurice!”
“Ow!”
“A blow for Alfred, the truck driver!”
“Agh!”
“And for all the boys at the pit stands!”
“Oof!”
After putting his shovel and broom back in his room, the green-vested man glared at the source of the noise and walked towards the fighting duo. Unfortunately, he tripped on the pink-haired lady’s flailing legs and fell on top of her. She shrieked as the man’s weight landed on her back, and she desperately tried to crawl off Alex and Tom to no avail.
“And here’s one for the guys at Commonwealth Tower!” Alex said before he and Tom started to spiral around.
“No!” everyone else in the jumble screamed as they turned turtle.
When everyone finally stopped, Tom said as he wiggled underneath the green-vested man, “Hey, what’s going on? What’s the big idea? Who turned out the lights?”
“Good morning, everyone!” the woman in the swimsuit said as she stopped in front of them.
“Good morning, Sydney,” the pink-haired lady murmured shyly.
“Hiya, surfer girl!” Alex replied as he crawled out from underneath the pile of humanoids.
“Sal-utations!” Tom said as he followed Alex.
The green-vested man growled furiously as he struggled to get onto the dusty floor.
“Here, let me help you up, Frank,” Sydney replied as she grabbed his right arm and hoisted him up.
When he had gotten back on his feet, he merely grunted, “Thanks.”
“So, what’s in our line-up today?” Alex said as he walked in front of Sydney.
“What are our instructions?” Tom piped in.
“What do you mean, what are we going to do today?” Frank grouched as Alex and Tom backed away from him. “The same thing we’ve done for the past four hundred days! Chores!”
“Chores?” Janet asked.
“Hey, it could be fun!” Sydney replied.
“Fun? Oh, boy, Ah’m always up for some fun! Listen to this! It’s a broadcast from Greenville Pickens Raceway! Now Isaac up on front! He’s gonna make a move—”
Tom whacked Alex on the shoulder, which caused him to stoop down in shame. “I don’t understand how chores can be fun.”
“Not supposed to be fun!” Frank spat. “It’s work.”
“I don’t like working without Gordon and Greta,” Janet murmured. “They always brighten up the place for me.”
“Well, okay,” Sydney said. “If you guys don’t wanna work, why don’t we play a game?”
“A game? What sort of a game?” Alex asked excitedly.
“What are the rules?” Tom piped in.
“There’s only one rule,” Sydney replied. “You can’t stop until the warehouse is clean!”
Everyone else booed her and took a few steps back. However, she beckoned Alex forward and whispered something in his ear.
“Gotcha, pal, leave it to me,” Alex replied.
He suddenly hopped onto one of the tables left out in the open and shouted, “Hang onto your hats, everyone! For the master music blaster o’ all time is gonna give y’all a soul injection!”
Chapter 2
Alex then broke into song again as everyone swept and dusted and wiped and re-arranged the entire warehouse. They all seemed to be under the influence of Alex’s singing until Janet finally stood still in the middle of the building. Sydney cried out, “Hey, guys! Quiet! I think Janet hears something!”
Tom, Frank, and Alex all stared anxiously at Janet before she finally murmured, “A car.”
“A car?!” Sydney squealed.
“A car?!” everyone else shouted.
Everyone sprang into action once more as they ran up to the second floor. Tom pulled out the trapdoor to the attic and a wooden staircase slid out of it. Everyone watched eagerly as Janet walked up the staircase and into the dusty, cobweb-filled attic. She looked around to find a small, round window that pointed to the road. She squinted her stress-bagged red eyes and gasped as she saw a little moving dot between the hills.
“Can you see?” Sydney asked.
“Is it them? Is it them?” Tom inquired anxiously.
“Any news? Ah’m dyin’ down here,” Alex said.
“Is it them?” Sydney asked again. “Is it Greta and Gordon…Gordon…Gordon…”
Janet could barely hear her friend as she smiled and stared at the yellow limousine driving down the road. “It’s them! They’re back!” she said mystically.
The massive vehicle pulled up to the front door of the warehouse and came to a gentle stop. Before the chauffeur could even get close to the door, two tall people – a man in a black suit and a woman in a yellow-and-blue wedding down – graciously opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. Janet’s eyes opened as wide as humanly possible as she squealed, “It’s Greta and Gordon, everyone!”
They stepped towards the large front door to the warehouse and opened it wide to let the morning sun in. Gordon allowed Greta to walk through the door first, muttering, “After you, madam.”
Greta laughed in the sincerest way possible, her golden hair waving gently in the wind as she smiled brilliantly at Janet. “Hey, guys!” Greta said.
“Greta!” Janet replied.
“Oh, Janet, how I missed you!”
The two bounded towards each other with the biggest grins either of them could manage. Janet prepared herself – both physically and mentally - for the tight squeeze she would receive from Greta’s brawny arms. Right as they were about to embrace each other, the whole scene suddenly vanished and the blue 1968 Volkswagen Beetle that had driven up to the warehouse raced back the way it went. Janet stared out helplessly at the fleeing vehicle before whining down the attic staircase. Everyone looked at her sadly as she walked towards her and Sydney’s room. “Was it them?” Tom finally uttered.
Both Sydney and Frank glared at Tom in disgust. “I’m just curious. I hate being left in the dark, you know.”
All this did was make Sydney glare even harder. “So, I guess we could say it wasn’t them, right?”
“Let’s get back to work,” Sydney muttered.
As almost everyone was finishing up with their morning cleaning, Janet could be heard whimpering at the top of the first staircase with a picture frame in her hands. She then wailed as she plopped on the floor, which caused Frank to growl angrily. “Cry, cry, weep, wail, and sob! It’s disgusting!” Frank bellowed as he and Janet walked towards the bottom of the first staircase. “Every time, I can’t believe it! Every single—gimme that stupid picture.”
Frank tried to yank the portrait of Greta and Gordon out of Janet’s hands, but the latter gripped onto it with all her might. “No, no!” she wailed.
“I’ll just put it away!” Sydney yelled over the fight.
“In the garbage!” Frank retorted.
“You can’t!” Janet cried in desperation.
“Wimp!” Frank spat.
“Let go!” Sydney said.
“They’re not coming back anyway,” Frank reasoned.
“They might,” Tom said.
“Fact is, there’s just not enough facts,” Frank replied.
“Fight breaks out in the peaceful club seatings! Race brought to a halt—”
Alex gasped in pain as Tom whacked him on the shoulder again.
“Let me have it,” Frank grouched.
“You can’t!” Janet repeated.
The picture frame suddenly slid out of Janet’s hands and flew across the warehouse, shattering into a million pieces in the middle of the building. Everyone gasped, and Frank muttered, “Oh, no,” before they slowly walked towards the ruined frame.
Thankfully, the picture itself was completely intact, and Greta and Gordon still smiled as radiantly as before. However, Gordon’s black mop of hair on top of his dark-brown head suddenly flipped upside down as a chilling wind blew through the warehouse. The man in the racing suit cackled quietly but coldly at the group in front of him as he sat calmly in his blue recliner chair.
“What are you laughing at, August?” Sydney spat.
The laughing stopped, and August smirked happily at them, even though his left arm was in a sling and both of his legs were in casts. “Nothing, absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.”
“I think he was laughing at us,” Tom said to Sydney.
“You know somethin', you’re one bright little 'night guard'.”
“Gee, thanks,” Tom said as he pulled out his flashlight. However, as he turned it on, the light suddenly flickered and died. “Hey…”
“You guys really have an attachment for those people, don’cha?”
“Yes, they were our best friends,” Janet replied.
“Well, that’s real nice, and any day now, they might come romping back…just come whistling back through that door and everything will be the same. Real peachy keen like.”
“Uh-huh,” Janet said.
“It’s a possibility,” Tom piped in. “Or, if not them, perhaps somebody else could be coming back.”
“Well, at least we try to stay optimistic,” Sydney said.
“Optimistic?” August repeated harshly. “Somebody untie the knot in this gal’s tailpipe.”
“Why don’t you just…shut off?” Frank growled as he marched towards August.
“Gee, I’m real scared there, Frank. What’cha gonna do, blow me to death?”
“Hoo!” Frank uttered as he backed up next to Sydney.
“What is it with you guys? You act like you just came off the assembly line, now get this through your heads. We’ve been dumped! Abandoned!”
“But they loved us!” Janet cried.
“That’s right!” Tom piped in.
“So, what, they both have their college stuff and nursing junk to work on. If somebody gets hurt or school starts up, they move away! They just have to put some things ahead of you guys. It’s a package deal.”
“But maybe they’re—” Sydney began.
“None of them are coming back, pure and simple.”
“Oh, yeah, did you talk to them recently or somethin’?” Frank challenged. “They could be turning up any second.”
“You really think so?” Janet murmured as she walked towards Frank.
“I’m not talking to you!” Frank spat as he glowered at her.
“The whole lotta you’ve gotta have a combined power output of five, maybe less,” August said. “It’s been years. It’s scrap metal time.”
“Well, you can do what you like,” Sydney replied. “We’re not going to give up hope.”
“Yeah!” all of Sydney’s friends concurred.
“That’s real touchin’, guys. You’re gonna get me bawlin’ like a baby any time now.”
“I think you’re jealous,” Sydney said with a smirk.
“Sure, I’m jealous of a bunch of no-good scrap heaps.”
“Scrap?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, ‘cause nobody remembered you.”
“Because you’re stuck in that chair!” Frank spat.
August turned the air conditioner on high and blew Sydney’s hair into Alex’s face. “So, it’s back to that stupid garbage again,” August said as his orange eyes seemingly burned in rage. “You think I don’t know what goes on in here?”
Everyone else stared in shock as August’s hair began to stand on end. “I know what goes on in this cottage. It’s a conspiracy…and every one of you clunkers are in on it! Just ‘cause you can move around, you think you’re better than I am!”
August flicked the appliance’s fan controls until they were off the scale. “I’m not an invalid! I was forced to be in this chair! I like being stuck in this stupid chair! I can’t help it if that cursed Baker crashed into me at the Indy 500! I had that race all tied up and…and…”
“We didn’t mean it! Really!” Sydney cried.
“IT WAS MY FUNCTION!”
Everyone else panicked and ran behind a chair as August’s face turned increasingly redder. His eyes bulged out of his skull while his mustache barely hung on to his upper lip.
“He’s gonna blow!” Frank shouted.
“Take cover!” Sydney screamed.
August gave a few last grunts of pain before finally going silent. Sydney and Tom saw him passed out in his chair, a look of longing still plastered on his aged face.
“Poor August,” Janet murmured.
“I didn’t know he’d take it so hard,” Sydney said sadly.
“Eh, he was a jerk, anyways,” Frank growled.
“Hey? Hey? What’s that?” Tom asked.
Janet gasped, “A car!”
“I don’t wanna hear another word about cars!” Frank snarled.
“You said it,” Sydney concurred.
The refined whirr of a V12 approached the cottage, then was cut off with a soft clunk. could be heard. A pair of crunching footsteps grew louder and louder before a “brap-brap” sound muffled the approaching person. Everyone in the warehouse who was still conscious stared at the door with apt hopefulness, their spirits full of joy at who just might be at their doorstep. The entrance swung open, letting all the morning rays into the old building…and someone that nobody was expecting.
(Now you see why the Premier crew might now finish, and not just because of car-related reasons?)
EDIT: Oof, forgot to give credits.
The Brave Little Toaster (c) Jerry Rees/Thomas M. Disch (and always these two)
1 Like
Droivers:
C0: Seppo Taalasmaa (Finland), Jari Salo (Finland)
C1: Sami Suomalainen (Finland), Elias Keskimaasto (Finland)
C2: Marko Fors (Finland), Mauri Härmä (Finland)
C6: Hansu Masis (Finland), Taneli Yli-Joki (Finland)
2 Likes
1973 Rally di Fruinia - C0 Class - Coma-Naefoli Special Stages are currently ongoing. Reports will be posted soon.
In terms of structure, this part of the rally takes place on asphalt and gravel South-East of the capital Coma, in the rural Naefoli region. The stages will take place in 5 custers. Per cluster points will be granted in the 10-6-4-3-2-1-0 format. After each cluster drivers can rest and cars can be repaired (well, roleplay here). The overall times of the Coma-Naefoli Special Stages (fastest time over all clusters) will be granted in the 20-16-14-13-12-11-10-9-8-7-6 format.
Every main stage (3 in total) will therefore have a maximum of 70 points available to be earned.
13 Likes
C0 - Coma Naefoli
Entrants:
| Number | Car | Driver | Co-Driver | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 33 | Lutoza Enano [R] | Jairo Moreno (ESP) | Arturo Santos (ESP) | |
| 50 | Teuvo Halo | Seppo Taalasmaa (FIN) | Jari Salo (FIN) | |
| 61 | KMC Risparmio | Silva Wedekind (GER) | Karim Dawson (GBR) | |
| 83 | Bogliq Fanatic 75AE | Reida Oda (JPN) | Uki Nakajima (JPN) | |
| 126 | EAG LET Silverbird 3c | Antoni Świeboda (POL) | Łukasz Żmuchowski (POL) | |
| 132 | Bramble Project 10 | Robert Chamberlain (GBR) | William Moore (GBR) | |
| 291 | Mouton Cherie 750 R | Amelie Mouton (FRA) | Frank Tudor (USA) | |
| 529 | SW Nugget Rally | Adam Gates (GBR) | Tyler Powell (GBR) | |
| 652 | WM Aeromouse HDV8 | Django Tsvetkov (SUN) | Nehemiah Vodenicharov (ISR) | |
| 971 | Lastun D750 | Eugen Ionescu Cristea (ROU) | Werner Hirschvogel (ROU) |
A very early morning start here in the fields of Naefoli near Coma. It’s basically still night when the Wisconsin Motors Aeromouse, an oddball car by this point, only available as kit car, and powered by a an extremely small and intricate V8 starts its first cluster of stages.
These stages fairly straight forwards, although some corners can take drivers by surprise. Adam Gates in the number 529 SW Nugget is the first to find not to underestimate the fineness and deepness of some sand patches, although the resulting spin does not damage the car. Oda and Nakajima in the Boqliq are less lucky then when hasty steering input sends them into a ditch and damages steering.
You can see other cars having issues near the end with fine sand in the carburetors or issues with suspension by the end of the cluster, including the number 61 KMC and the Romanians in the Latsun. On the other hand of the spectrum, you see a blistering first cluster by Mouton and Tudor in the 291 Cherie. The French woman and her American co-pilot are leading over 4 minutes loose ahead of the Fins in the Teuvo.
Some minor incidents in the second cluster, where Wedekind and Dawson struggle with severe steering issues in the final special stage, losing time, and with the intricate Wisconsin Motors V8 showing its first sign of frustrating its odd crew - the organisation has no idea how a Soviet Union driver, albeit from the Ukraine SSR, ended up in a US manufacturer car.
A better performance this cluster around from Poles in the number 126 EAG LET, and from the Japanese girls in the Bogliq. They are up there giving the likes of the Tuevo and the Bramble giving a run for their money.
After cluster two, the Mouton stays in the lead, but the Latsun and SW Nugget are nearing, Mouton and Tudor seeing their lead shrink to only a second. At the rear, despite efforts, the EAG LET of Świeboda and Żmuchowski.
Mid morning when the number 63 KMC completes its run here, the female German driver still struggling to keep control in technical sections. Again technical issues and bad luck for the Bogliq and Aeromouse, not helping their times either.
Most impressive here, although helped by not encountering any issues are Cristea and Hirschvogel in the Latsun. Only the Fins in the Tuevo seem to be able to somewhat follow here.
The SW Nugget, despite the American and Brit being extremely fast last cluster, is a bit lacking here. This all shakes the situation up in the total time standings, with some close fought battles between the Lutoza and EAG LET; the KMC and WM Aeromouse; and Tuevo and SW Nugget.
Critique from her team manger has clearly fired up Silva Wedekind in the KMC, as the number sets a very good time in this cluster together with the Wisconsin Motors car and the Japanese drivers in the Bogliq.
The Romanians in the Latsun fail to impress due to braking issues and only manage narrowly to keep the Mouton Cherie from points.
Issues were there for Chamberlain and Moore, who got their Bramble facing backwards, and Moreno and Santos in the number 33 car who had to replace their front tires after an emergency stop ended in some rocks.
Battered cars by this points, and several issues with the power delivery and suspensions of among others the Tuevo, the Bogliq, and the Latsun. Less of a mechanical nature, a lapsus of Chamberlain might have cost the Bramble some extra points after what in essence was a good of stage times.
The Spanish Lutoza also suffered delay due to a driver error, but overall, and despite being a crowd favorite with its quirky styling, the car looks just a tad too slow for these flowing fast stages.
Final Results Stage 1 - C0 Class:
Summary
| Number | Car | Driver | Co-Driver | Time | ||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 971 | Lastun D750 | Eugen Ionescu Cristea (ROU) | Werner Hirschvogel (ROU) | 4h58 | ||
| 291 | Mouton Cherie 750 R | Amelie Mouton (FRA) | Frank Tudor (USA) | 5h04 | ||
| 61 | KMC Risparmio | Silva Wedekind (GER) | Karim Dawson (GBR) | 5h09 | ||
| 50 | Teuvo Halo | Seppo Taalasmaa (FIN) | Jari Salo (FIN) | 5h17 | ||
| 83 | Bogliq Fanatic 75AE | Reida Oda (JPN) | Uki Nakajima (JPN) | 5h17 | ||
| 652 | WM Aeromouse HDV8 | Django Tsvetkov (SUN) | Nehemiah Vodenicharov (ISR) | 5h18 | ||
| 132 | Bramble Project 10 | Robert Chamberlain (GBR) | William Moore (GBR) | 5h22 | ||
| 126 | EAG LET Silverbird 3c | Antoni Świeboda (POL) | Łukasz Żmuchowski (POL) | 5h23 | ||
| 529 | SW Nugget Rally | Adam Gates (GBR) | Tyler Powell (GBR) | 5h26 | ||
| 33 | Lutoza Enano [R] | Jairo Moreno (ESP) | Arturo Santos (ESP) | 5h40 |
Point Standings C0 Class:
| Number | Car | Driver | Co-Driver | S1-1 | S1-2 | S1-3 | S1-4 | S1-5 | S1-F | S1-T | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 971 | Lastun D750 | Eugen Ionescu Cristea (ROU) | Werner Hirschvogel (ROU) | 3 | 6 | 10 | 1 | 4 | 20 | 44 | |||
| 291 | Mouton Cherie 750 R | Amelie Mouton (FRA) | Frank Tudor (USA) | 10 | 2 | 1 | 0 | 10 | 16 | 39 | |||
| 61 | KMC Risparmio | Silva Wedekind (GER) | Karim Dawson (GBR) | 2 | 0 | 4 | 10 | 6 | 14 | 36 | |||
| 50 | Teuvo Halo | Seppo Taalasmaa (FIN) | Jari Salo (FIN) | 6 | 0 | 6 | 3 | 0 | 13 | 28 | |||
| 83 | Bogliq Fanatic 75AE | Reida Oda (JPN) | Uki Nakajima (JPN) | 0 | 3 | 0 | 4 | 2 | 12 | 21 | |||
| 652 | WM Aeromouse HDV8 | Django Tsvetkov (SUN) | Nehemiah Vodenicharov (ISR) | 4 | 0 | 0 | 6 | 0 | 11 | 21 | |||
| 529 | SW Nugget Rally | Adam Gates (GBR) | Tyler Powell (GBR) | 1 | 10 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 8 | 19 | |||
| 132 | Bramble Project 10 | Robert Chamberlain (GBR) | William Moore (GBR) | 0 | 4 | 3 | 0 | 1 | 10 | 18 | |||
| 126 | EAG LET Silverbird 3c | Antoni Świeboda (POL) | Łukasz Żmuchowski (POL) | 0 | 0 | 2 | 2 | 3 | 9 | 16 | |||
| 33 | Lutoza Enano [R] | Jairo Moreno (ESP) | Arturo Santos (ESP) | 0 | 1 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 7 | 8 |
18 Likes
No RRs next time, got it
It’s a power and gearing issue mostly. What won this stage, on this track, for this class, is all speed between 80 and 110 km/h. How fast the cars accelerate there, how well they mange to keep the pace up on uphills and bumps, and how controllable they are braking and turning from and at that speed.
The second in time and points is RR, so that’s not really much of an element.
Then I’m even more surprised that LET 3c was outclassed in terms of power and raw speed. I thought this little thing is a muscle car for its category.
One thing I can admit is that hard braking in this car is a deathwish.
Power delivery > raw power.
Consistency > raw speed.
(Ask @Watermelon3878 all about it in terms of this competition.)
1 Like
Welp, all hope in classic Eagles… 204, 203 & 604.
Oh, a lot of things can happen. Don’t forget all cars have a roll on engine reliability and car reliability (0-1000) for each sub-stage time. Every roll over the reliability is a 0:05.00 penalty on the actual time. So that plays a role as well. Plus the other stages are different as to what strengths and weaknesses are important.
I know. Let me elaborate.
Silverbirds are kinda a Polish meme
303 is a comfortable family wagon
802 is some old junk from '52
But 204, 203 and 604 are “classic”. They’ve been designed and built with the victorious Eagle 202 in mind, they tick all the Eagle-Lore boxes, and I really put my heart, soul, time and whatever else into them. I just meant that they’re more important to me and the company. EAG LETs are just an experiment.
My first reaction: Oof, I didn’t do well despite the “blistering time”.
After seeing I was a dumdum and didn’t realize there was a timetable: Yippee! Second place! Woo!
(Next parts of my story coming Soon™)
unnecessary throwing of shade
but I mean you are right…
overall it’s actually I pretty pathetic torque curve
it’s more peaky than a god damn F40 
I have made that more clear.
What made you make that comment?
that
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