Rally Finland 2015
Discussion
Evenin' all. As part of my quest to attend all the world's great motor racing events, our summer holiday this year involved Rally Finland. There are a few words and photos about the event below. Hope you enjoy 
Somewhat unusually, our trip to Rally Finland 2015 begins in Estonia. There’s good reason for this: Estonian lager is significantly less expensive than its Finnish equivalent. So, with a few crates of the local favourite, Karhu (which translates simply as ‘Bear’), safely stowed (quite legally) across the border, we’re ready for the three hundred kilometre breeze up to Himos, our home for a long weekend chasing rally cars.
Once clear of the Helsinki suburbs, it’s an easy drive north towards Himos, a small skiing village – and home to one of Rally Finland’s most distinctive special stages. We’ve decided to do this weekend properly: in a rural log cabin with a group of fun-loving Finns. We arrive to find the quintessential Scandinavian retreat; complete with sauna, furnace-fired hot tub and swimming pool for the obligatory cold splash. Rather unusually, I find the prospect of our native accommodation almost as enticing as the prospect of watching fast cars.
Having banished such thought from my mind and with those Karhus cooling in the fridge, we head further north again; this time to Jyväskylä. This is the rally’s base and also the home of its first competitive activity, taking place on Thursday evening. Harju is a city-based forest rally stage and it’s every bit as bemusing as that description suggests. At the end of an urban street, one emerges into dense woodland and the opening few kilometres of Rally Finland. Talk about bringing rallying to the people: half the residents can watch the start from the comfort of their balconies.
The cars blast off along a short Tarmac straight, around a hairpin to return on themselves before a hard right takes them onto a steep, uphill gravel track and into the forest. Red Bull has placed one of its ubiquitous inflatable goalposts to signify the beginning of the year’s woodland shenanigans.
The first car leaves the startline at 7pm sharp and we’re just in time. So, too, are thousands of other insatiable rally fans. There are folk everywhere, most of them drinking and many climbing trees for the optimum perch: welcome to motor sport Finnish-style...the right crowd and no crowding it ain’t. Still, it’s great to see fans of all ages packing the stage. While many of the true forest stages require a serious cross-country walk, Harju features many older spectators, able to safely traverse metalled paths and steps. Even octogenarians still want to savour the experience of live rallying.
We trek through the woods, each ruining our trainers in the process. A note for all interested parties: take appropriate footwear. With slightly damp feet, we chance upon a top spot high up in the woods above the final chicane, an artificial device designed to keep a lid on entry speeds for the stage’s final corner; a sideways, big-balls fast right that catapults the pilots over the line.
Nobody is going to win the rally on Harju, but there’s always the possibility of losing it, especially given the treacherous, greasy conditions. There’s little evidence of restraint, though, with all the top boys flying right from the outset. The VW Polos are, naturally, the focus of most spectators’ attention and none of the drivers disappoints. Equally ‘on it’ are Kris Meeke and Ott Tanak, both gentlemen who’ve enjoyed rollercoaster seasons leading into Finland.
Part of the fun of any new motor sport event is the planning. In advance of the trip, we spend a giddy couple of hours poring over maps and stage times, determining the best use of our time and the coolest places to spectate.
Harju is a great hors d’oeuvre but it’s really just a starter before the action proper kicks off on Friday morning. We set our sights on Ouninpohja, the most famous of all the Finnish stages. A vast, flat-out, serpentine blast over the finest gravel roads in the world, this is the one every driver wants to win; and the one many will privately admit scares them something rotten.
The most famous section of the legendary stage is the Yellow House Jump. While Rally Finland is notorious for its proliferation of crests and yumps, Yellow House is the biggest and the fastest. We have to see it in the flesh.
The road down to Yellow House is a car-killer in its own right; bumpy, rutted and covered in sharp shale. We see one car pulled over repairing a puncture. Gulp. With big queues ahead, we decide to be bold and leave the car at the roadside a couple of kilometres from the stage and take to our feet.
Reaching the stage is pretty simple and we follow the signs until we’re actually on the track itself. Getting to Yellow House is a little trickier though and we find ourselves leaping streams, dodging hanging branches and strenuously avoiding clumsy trips and sprained ankles. Certainly to reach the best spots requires a little dedication. We hope it’s worth it.
Utilising our finest Ray Mears skills, we eventually emerge at the legendary Yellow House. And it really is yellow. The residents are hanging out of the top window, ready to go. No NIMBYism here, I guess. The jump really is extreme: following on from a series of flat-out sweepers, all you see is a ramp facing skywards. One can only ponder with awe the bravery it must require to keep the right foot planted as one hurtles towards that rising horizon.
It’s crazy busy immediately adjacent to the jump. This is Rally Finland’s Eau Rouge; its 130R; its Mulsanne Straight. Everybody wants to catch a glimpse of the biggest leaps of the year. We annex a spot about level with the 65 metre boards; a reasonably clear view of the action but not much scope for best photos. With a pole housing half a dozen GoPros, live TV broadcasting on the ground and from helicopters flying overhead, I figure it’s best to settle back and just savour the moment.
And what a moment.
The crowd is hugely varied with a proliferation of Finns, Poles, Estonians, Italians and even a Welsh flag in the mix. There’s genuine nervous tension in the air as everyone anticipates the first car. We’re about seven kilometres into the stage so we know to expect the first car to appear about five minutes after the nominated start time. The whole place is crackling with excitement. Of course, unlike circuit racing, you get one chance per stage to witness your heroes, then they’re gone, flying down the tree-lined roads into the distance at 100 miles per hour.
You hear the chopper first; the distinctive beat of the blades whipping over the trees, then the engine note, gently rising as the car approaches, it’s coarse, harsh yet unerring – no hint of a lift as he approaches. Suddenly he’s in the air, that turbocharged battle cry stammering brutally against the limiter; airhorns blare and the fans holler with delight. Sebastien Ogier is still in mid-air as I mentally clock him sailing past the 40 metre boards. Then he’s back on terra firma, his little Polo absorbing the landing with cat-like dexterity, and he’s gone, engine note gently pulling itself higher as he disappears, still totally flat-out.
None of us can quite believe what we’ve just seen. The whole episode played itself out over the course of maybe two seconds. An hour’s trek through the forest for two seconds of lunacy: is it worth it? It’s more than worth it; we’re all jabbering excitedly, goosebumps pricking our arms. As motor sporting spectacles go, this is about as dramatic and other-worldly as it gets. Waiting another few minutes for the next car is torture.
The leading WRC runners hit the stage first. That means the passes become progressively less dramatic – though of course everything when it comes to Ouninpohja is relative. We watch about the first 25 cars through, jaws on the floor every time. The sheer level of speed and commitment never grows boring. Eventually, though, we wander back towards the car and settle on the inside of a long right-hander.
There are scores of people decked out here so we enjoy the WRC3 and production categories racing through. While lacking the awe-inspiring firepower of the WRC weapons, it’s fascinating to watch. A sweep downhill presents a gentle brow leading into a fast, uphill right-hander which requires the highest-possible apex speed as the drivers carry that momentum all the way to Yellow House and beyond. The little WRC3 cars aren’t blessed with an over-abundance of power so conservation of momentum is the order of the day. Less blood and thunder than the full-fat WRC cars, certainly, but it’s still a total privilege to behold these guys at work.
With the gaps between the cars growing ever longer, we decide to head back to the cabin for a quick bite to eat before our second stage of the day. We pause long enough to admire what must surely rank as the world’s most fever-infused rally dog – a golden retriever wearing its very own stage pass. In Finland, the love of rallying has the power to cross from one species to another, apparently.
Himos is our ‘home’ stage. It’s just a couple of kilometres from our digs and, while not considered a classic in the mould of Ouninpohja, is quite different to many on the rally. Fairly short, Himos is set on a ski resort and the stage winds its way up one side of a mountain before cresting the peak and haring back down the other side, through a small road tunnel and across the line. It’s slightly surreal as the ski lifts and the runs they feed are particularly evident, though obviously lacking the deep snow which makes the place so popular during the winter months.
There’s a bit less jungle trekking than we experienced earlier in the day and we’re soon settled on a craggy hillside with a wonderful, panoramic view which extends out to the lake on our left. Compared to the slightly limited-duration spectating of the morning’s passes at Ouninpohja, we have an expansive section of track to savour.
The sheer energy of the VWs as they appear around the headland in front of us is briefly shocking. They’re really shifting this afternoon. The event has already boiled down to a fierce two-way fight between reigning champion Sebastien Ogier and his native foe, local hero Jari-Matti Latvala. These guys are visibly pushing harder than the rest; the compliance and composure of the Polo stunning.
From our rocky perch, the road looks fairly flat but the first VW to be forced five feet into the sky over an innocuous-looking bump proves that it’s anything but flat. The cars are constantly moving through this section. The road is bumpy, rutted and blessed with helpful camber meaning the cars are never in a straight line. Braking power is phenomenal and the long suspension travel exaggerates every movement as inside wheels hook into the ditch for maximum slingshot effect.
Bloody hell, they’re travelling quickly. Each car is probably in sight for as much as seven of eight seconds through here which is a real treat but it’s still ‘blink and you missed it’, breathless stuff. The ability to take enormous speed over all terrain is the hallmark of a great rally car and Himos provides the most vivid demonstration of that art.
By now the rally has found a rhythm. It’s all VWs to the fore but Brit Kris Meeke is chasing hard. We later find out that he’s suffering from drivetrain woes and has completed the stage with three wheel drive. Not that you’d know given his total commitment. Welshman Elfyn Evans appears in our sight with his right-hand rear wheel obviously moving around rather more than M-Sport had perhaps originally intended. He’s smacked a particularly unyielding Finnish rock and broken the suspension but is continuing at a pretty giddy rate nonetheless.
Further back, Dani Sordo is among the most daring but he’s way down the order and his Hyundai is obviously not a match for those remarkable VWs over the bumps, lumps and jumps. As a snapshot of the competitive order, Himos is particularly demonstrative and the difference in pace between the runners is quite apparent, as is the behaviour of the various cars. Nothing can touch the all-conquering Polos, though it’s evident that Kris Meeke can match them for sheer balls-out energy, even if his Citroen DS3 can’t cover the ground with the same poise as its immediate rivals.
Saturday is our final day spectating as Sunday’s stages are way to the north and, sadly, further away than we can manage. We endeavour to make up for it by spending Friday evening imbibing heavily and enjoying our cabin’s hot tub, sauna and pool, though the latter is brutally cold and proves to be the catalyst for some truly imaginative profanities.
For our final day at the trackside we pick Horkka and Surkee, attended in that order. Horkka is the most heavily wooded stage we visit and the trek from the car park out to our chosen viewing spot would be worthy of note, even without the cars to enjoy at its conclusion. The dense woodland offers the most sensory experience of our trip. It’s as atmospheric as you’d imagine with the moist fauna providing a gentle earthy smell, while wild blueberries grow prolifically on the ground – and taste delicious.
We walk for some time along the hard-packed gravel road which forms the stage itself. The layout is hugely fast, with long, gentle sweeping corners feeding into even longer straights. The crowds are as dedicated as everywhere else on the rally and include a group of young lads who have brought along their tractor as a make-shift grandstand. The bucket of the tractor is filled with seating material, the barbecue is in full effect and the morning beers appear to be flowing freely. Even on The Mountain at Bathurst, I’ve yet to witness such bizarre dedication to one’s sport. It’s snapshots like that which make travelling the world watching racing so special; each country and each event brings its own flavour and passion. From the Mexican donkeys of Texas to the fireworks at Rechbergrennen via the ludicrous Europop of Spa - each crowd celebrates its sport in a different way.
We eventually settle on a cracking spectator spot with viewing of another fearsome jump. This is less severe than Yellow House but still very impressive and we don’t have to wait long before the familiar chatter of a WRC exhaust at maximum burn announces the appearance of a flying Volkswagen. Once again, it’s Ogier and Latvala who are the most committed and both leap and land with their trademark assurance. That Polo is a truly remarkable thing to behold at close quarters.
We’re snatching information on the rally as and when we can by this stage. The WRC app with its live timing feature is fantastic when mobile data permits and there’s a rally radio station we can earwig from other spectators too. The event has boiled down to a slugging match between the two VW stars. It’s like the fight scene from a Rocky movie – you can scarcely believe the protagonists can strike and be struck so often and still come out swinging. Neither driver has made a mistake worthy of the name; they’ve traded fastest stage times from the offset. It’s an heroic display and seeing the sheer speed of the event in person hammers home quite what it takes to be quick in Finland.
Horkka makes for wonderful spectating and it feels as ‘real’ as Finnish forest stage rallying gets. It’s fast, densely packed with fevered spectators and the whole place is a treat for all senses. There’s nothing like the satisfaction of leaping a few streams on an adventurous walk through the woods to really get you fired up for watching the drivers leaping a few big jumps of their own.
On our way to Surkee, we divert down to a little beach on a lake front. In fact there’s as much lake as there is land in this corner of Finland – giving the event its former name of The 1000 Lakes Rally. It’s hard to believe but, in the midst of the huge crowds driving from stage-to-stage, we’ve managed to snare a perfect - and perfectly deserted - spot to enjoy a little lunchtime barbecue. It’s an oasis of calm among a desert of rally lunacy.
In spite of the leisurely lunch, we arrive at Surkee in plenty of time to bag a top spot, right on the ropes. This is a really different kind of vantage point – it’s open and the cars appear from our left travelling very quickly before braking hard and hurling themselves hard right before blasting off up the hill behind us. We’re in a bit of a clearing so we aren’t caught up in the trees but the open field behind us permits a view of the cars for several seconds – something of a luxury on a special stage.
That broad field also permits us the amusing, bizarre and disturbing spectacle of one man vomiting profusely while another urinates directly adjacent. Both chaps are slap bang in the middle of the field and appear utterly unfazed by each other’s presence. I don’t believe this is typical of Rally Finland but the vast quantity of Karhu consumed over the weekend perhaps makes such scenes inevitable.
While a little human interest adds spice to an event, this is all about the cars. We’ve managed inadvertently to pick a great place to watch. We’re right underneath the cars and it’s possible to lie on one’s belly as they whip past, mere feet away. It’s pretty thrilling and not a little visceral as the cars are sliding throughout, back ends jacked up dramatically under braking as the drivers prepare to drop their wheels into the ditch on the inside of that tight right-hander for maximum tractive force up the hill and out of our sight, revs blaring as they hammer towards the next hazard.
Once again it’s the VW twins who look most comfortable. The speed they carry is imperious, while the Fiestas are more expressive but not as quick. The Fords adopt greater rake under braking and seem to be squirming around a little more as they appear into view. This is pretty nuanced stuff and perhaps the mind plays tricks but the great thing about loose-surface rallying is that you really can see different lines and different approaches. Some drivers get air over bumps which their peers miss altogether. There’s no formula here and that makes it exciting to watch.
Directly opposite us, a local farmer appears to have sharpened his entrepreneurial skills and is using one of his fields as an impromptu helicopter landing pad. We count up to ten at any time. It looks as if the best-heeled spectators can rent a chopper for the day and follow the stages that way. They simply land on one corner before flying off to the next viewing area. At one stage, three helicopters disappear sequentially, all heading towards the same piece of the horizon; it’s like something out of Apocalypse Now though obviously not the weird bit at the end with Marlon Brando.
We cross the track and settle on the ‘outfield’ – if such a thing exists on an open-loop track – to enjoy the last few WRC3 runners with a beer. Even the little front wheel drive tiddlers are terrific fun to watch, fully wrung-out laterally, longitudinally and even vertically. This pause offers a quick chance to reflect on the weekend’s activity. Rally Finland deserves its status as one of the world’s great racing spectacles and the local fans are more consumed by ‘the fever’ than just about any of group of race-goers in the world. It certainly demands patience and commitment from those fans but the rewards are truly special.
Our first time here ends with a hugely popular local victory; Latvala delivering a second consecutive win at home over the fastest Rally Finland of all time. The home favourite averaged almost 80 mph over the four days of competition. To witness that kind of speed at close quarters is truly life-affirming if you love the sight of racing cars on the limit. All the trekking through the woods, the long waits between runs and the tiny snapshot visuals of the cars in full flight are a small price to pay for the amazing sensory overload of WRC at its spiritual home.
Somewhat unusually, our trip to Rally Finland 2015 begins in Estonia. There’s good reason for this: Estonian lager is significantly less expensive than its Finnish equivalent. So, with a few crates of the local favourite, Karhu (which translates simply as ‘Bear’), safely stowed (quite legally) across the border, we’re ready for the three hundred kilometre breeze up to Himos, our home for a long weekend chasing rally cars.
Once clear of the Helsinki suburbs, it’s an easy drive north towards Himos, a small skiing village – and home to one of Rally Finland’s most distinctive special stages. We’ve decided to do this weekend properly: in a rural log cabin with a group of fun-loving Finns. We arrive to find the quintessential Scandinavian retreat; complete with sauna, furnace-fired hot tub and swimming pool for the obligatory cold splash. Rather unusually, I find the prospect of our native accommodation almost as enticing as the prospect of watching fast cars.
Having banished such thought from my mind and with those Karhus cooling in the fridge, we head further north again; this time to Jyväskylä. This is the rally’s base and also the home of its first competitive activity, taking place on Thursday evening. Harju is a city-based forest rally stage and it’s every bit as bemusing as that description suggests. At the end of an urban street, one emerges into dense woodland and the opening few kilometres of Rally Finland. Talk about bringing rallying to the people: half the residents can watch the start from the comfort of their balconies.
The cars blast off along a short Tarmac straight, around a hairpin to return on themselves before a hard right takes them onto a steep, uphill gravel track and into the forest. Red Bull has placed one of its ubiquitous inflatable goalposts to signify the beginning of the year’s woodland shenanigans.
The first car leaves the startline at 7pm sharp and we’re just in time. So, too, are thousands of other insatiable rally fans. There are folk everywhere, most of them drinking and many climbing trees for the optimum perch: welcome to motor sport Finnish-style...the right crowd and no crowding it ain’t. Still, it’s great to see fans of all ages packing the stage. While many of the true forest stages require a serious cross-country walk, Harju features many older spectators, able to safely traverse metalled paths and steps. Even octogenarians still want to savour the experience of live rallying.
We trek through the woods, each ruining our trainers in the process. A note for all interested parties: take appropriate footwear. With slightly damp feet, we chance upon a top spot high up in the woods above the final chicane, an artificial device designed to keep a lid on entry speeds for the stage’s final corner; a sideways, big-balls fast right that catapults the pilots over the line.
Nobody is going to win the rally on Harju, but there’s always the possibility of losing it, especially given the treacherous, greasy conditions. There’s little evidence of restraint, though, with all the top boys flying right from the outset. The VW Polos are, naturally, the focus of most spectators’ attention and none of the drivers disappoints. Equally ‘on it’ are Kris Meeke and Ott Tanak, both gentlemen who’ve enjoyed rollercoaster seasons leading into Finland.
Part of the fun of any new motor sport event is the planning. In advance of the trip, we spend a giddy couple of hours poring over maps and stage times, determining the best use of our time and the coolest places to spectate.
Harju is a great hors d’oeuvre but it’s really just a starter before the action proper kicks off on Friday morning. We set our sights on Ouninpohja, the most famous of all the Finnish stages. A vast, flat-out, serpentine blast over the finest gravel roads in the world, this is the one every driver wants to win; and the one many will privately admit scares them something rotten.
The most famous section of the legendary stage is the Yellow House Jump. While Rally Finland is notorious for its proliferation of crests and yumps, Yellow House is the biggest and the fastest. We have to see it in the flesh.
The road down to Yellow House is a car-killer in its own right; bumpy, rutted and covered in sharp shale. We see one car pulled over repairing a puncture. Gulp. With big queues ahead, we decide to be bold and leave the car at the roadside a couple of kilometres from the stage and take to our feet.
Reaching the stage is pretty simple and we follow the signs until we’re actually on the track itself. Getting to Yellow House is a little trickier though and we find ourselves leaping streams, dodging hanging branches and strenuously avoiding clumsy trips and sprained ankles. Certainly to reach the best spots requires a little dedication. We hope it’s worth it.
Utilising our finest Ray Mears skills, we eventually emerge at the legendary Yellow House. And it really is yellow. The residents are hanging out of the top window, ready to go. No NIMBYism here, I guess. The jump really is extreme: following on from a series of flat-out sweepers, all you see is a ramp facing skywards. One can only ponder with awe the bravery it must require to keep the right foot planted as one hurtles towards that rising horizon.
It’s crazy busy immediately adjacent to the jump. This is Rally Finland’s Eau Rouge; its 130R; its Mulsanne Straight. Everybody wants to catch a glimpse of the biggest leaps of the year. We annex a spot about level with the 65 metre boards; a reasonably clear view of the action but not much scope for best photos. With a pole housing half a dozen GoPros, live TV broadcasting on the ground and from helicopters flying overhead, I figure it’s best to settle back and just savour the moment.
And what a moment.
The crowd is hugely varied with a proliferation of Finns, Poles, Estonians, Italians and even a Welsh flag in the mix. There’s genuine nervous tension in the air as everyone anticipates the first car. We’re about seven kilometres into the stage so we know to expect the first car to appear about five minutes after the nominated start time. The whole place is crackling with excitement. Of course, unlike circuit racing, you get one chance per stage to witness your heroes, then they’re gone, flying down the tree-lined roads into the distance at 100 miles per hour.
You hear the chopper first; the distinctive beat of the blades whipping over the trees, then the engine note, gently rising as the car approaches, it’s coarse, harsh yet unerring – no hint of a lift as he approaches. Suddenly he’s in the air, that turbocharged battle cry stammering brutally against the limiter; airhorns blare and the fans holler with delight. Sebastien Ogier is still in mid-air as I mentally clock him sailing past the 40 metre boards. Then he’s back on terra firma, his little Polo absorbing the landing with cat-like dexterity, and he’s gone, engine note gently pulling itself higher as he disappears, still totally flat-out.
None of us can quite believe what we’ve just seen. The whole episode played itself out over the course of maybe two seconds. An hour’s trek through the forest for two seconds of lunacy: is it worth it? It’s more than worth it; we’re all jabbering excitedly, goosebumps pricking our arms. As motor sporting spectacles go, this is about as dramatic and other-worldly as it gets. Waiting another few minutes for the next car is torture.
The leading WRC runners hit the stage first. That means the passes become progressively less dramatic – though of course everything when it comes to Ouninpohja is relative. We watch about the first 25 cars through, jaws on the floor every time. The sheer level of speed and commitment never grows boring. Eventually, though, we wander back towards the car and settle on the inside of a long right-hander.
There are scores of people decked out here so we enjoy the WRC3 and production categories racing through. While lacking the awe-inspiring firepower of the WRC weapons, it’s fascinating to watch. A sweep downhill presents a gentle brow leading into a fast, uphill right-hander which requires the highest-possible apex speed as the drivers carry that momentum all the way to Yellow House and beyond. The little WRC3 cars aren’t blessed with an over-abundance of power so conservation of momentum is the order of the day. Less blood and thunder than the full-fat WRC cars, certainly, but it’s still a total privilege to behold these guys at work.
With the gaps between the cars growing ever longer, we decide to head back to the cabin for a quick bite to eat before our second stage of the day. We pause long enough to admire what must surely rank as the world’s most fever-infused rally dog – a golden retriever wearing its very own stage pass. In Finland, the love of rallying has the power to cross from one species to another, apparently.
Himos is our ‘home’ stage. It’s just a couple of kilometres from our digs and, while not considered a classic in the mould of Ouninpohja, is quite different to many on the rally. Fairly short, Himos is set on a ski resort and the stage winds its way up one side of a mountain before cresting the peak and haring back down the other side, through a small road tunnel and across the line. It’s slightly surreal as the ski lifts and the runs they feed are particularly evident, though obviously lacking the deep snow which makes the place so popular during the winter months.
There’s a bit less jungle trekking than we experienced earlier in the day and we’re soon settled on a craggy hillside with a wonderful, panoramic view which extends out to the lake on our left. Compared to the slightly limited-duration spectating of the morning’s passes at Ouninpohja, we have an expansive section of track to savour.
The sheer energy of the VWs as they appear around the headland in front of us is briefly shocking. They’re really shifting this afternoon. The event has already boiled down to a fierce two-way fight between reigning champion Sebastien Ogier and his native foe, local hero Jari-Matti Latvala. These guys are visibly pushing harder than the rest; the compliance and composure of the Polo stunning.
From our rocky perch, the road looks fairly flat but the first VW to be forced five feet into the sky over an innocuous-looking bump proves that it’s anything but flat. The cars are constantly moving through this section. The road is bumpy, rutted and blessed with helpful camber meaning the cars are never in a straight line. Braking power is phenomenal and the long suspension travel exaggerates every movement as inside wheels hook into the ditch for maximum slingshot effect.
Bloody hell, they’re travelling quickly. Each car is probably in sight for as much as seven of eight seconds through here which is a real treat but it’s still ‘blink and you missed it’, breathless stuff. The ability to take enormous speed over all terrain is the hallmark of a great rally car and Himos provides the most vivid demonstration of that art.
By now the rally has found a rhythm. It’s all VWs to the fore but Brit Kris Meeke is chasing hard. We later find out that he’s suffering from drivetrain woes and has completed the stage with three wheel drive. Not that you’d know given his total commitment. Welshman Elfyn Evans appears in our sight with his right-hand rear wheel obviously moving around rather more than M-Sport had perhaps originally intended. He’s smacked a particularly unyielding Finnish rock and broken the suspension but is continuing at a pretty giddy rate nonetheless.
Further back, Dani Sordo is among the most daring but he’s way down the order and his Hyundai is obviously not a match for those remarkable VWs over the bumps, lumps and jumps. As a snapshot of the competitive order, Himos is particularly demonstrative and the difference in pace between the runners is quite apparent, as is the behaviour of the various cars. Nothing can touch the all-conquering Polos, though it’s evident that Kris Meeke can match them for sheer balls-out energy, even if his Citroen DS3 can’t cover the ground with the same poise as its immediate rivals.
Saturday is our final day spectating as Sunday’s stages are way to the north and, sadly, further away than we can manage. We endeavour to make up for it by spending Friday evening imbibing heavily and enjoying our cabin’s hot tub, sauna and pool, though the latter is brutally cold and proves to be the catalyst for some truly imaginative profanities.
For our final day at the trackside we pick Horkka and Surkee, attended in that order. Horkka is the most heavily wooded stage we visit and the trek from the car park out to our chosen viewing spot would be worthy of note, even without the cars to enjoy at its conclusion. The dense woodland offers the most sensory experience of our trip. It’s as atmospheric as you’d imagine with the moist fauna providing a gentle earthy smell, while wild blueberries grow prolifically on the ground – and taste delicious.
We walk for some time along the hard-packed gravel road which forms the stage itself. The layout is hugely fast, with long, gentle sweeping corners feeding into even longer straights. The crowds are as dedicated as everywhere else on the rally and include a group of young lads who have brought along their tractor as a make-shift grandstand. The bucket of the tractor is filled with seating material, the barbecue is in full effect and the morning beers appear to be flowing freely. Even on The Mountain at Bathurst, I’ve yet to witness such bizarre dedication to one’s sport. It’s snapshots like that which make travelling the world watching racing so special; each country and each event brings its own flavour and passion. From the Mexican donkeys of Texas to the fireworks at Rechbergrennen via the ludicrous Europop of Spa - each crowd celebrates its sport in a different way.
We eventually settle on a cracking spectator spot with viewing of another fearsome jump. This is less severe than Yellow House but still very impressive and we don’t have to wait long before the familiar chatter of a WRC exhaust at maximum burn announces the appearance of a flying Volkswagen. Once again, it’s Ogier and Latvala who are the most committed and both leap and land with their trademark assurance. That Polo is a truly remarkable thing to behold at close quarters.
We’re snatching information on the rally as and when we can by this stage. The WRC app with its live timing feature is fantastic when mobile data permits and there’s a rally radio station we can earwig from other spectators too. The event has boiled down to a slugging match between the two VW stars. It’s like the fight scene from a Rocky movie – you can scarcely believe the protagonists can strike and be struck so often and still come out swinging. Neither driver has made a mistake worthy of the name; they’ve traded fastest stage times from the offset. It’s an heroic display and seeing the sheer speed of the event in person hammers home quite what it takes to be quick in Finland.
Horkka makes for wonderful spectating and it feels as ‘real’ as Finnish forest stage rallying gets. It’s fast, densely packed with fevered spectators and the whole place is a treat for all senses. There’s nothing like the satisfaction of leaping a few streams on an adventurous walk through the woods to really get you fired up for watching the drivers leaping a few big jumps of their own.
On our way to Surkee, we divert down to a little beach on a lake front. In fact there’s as much lake as there is land in this corner of Finland – giving the event its former name of The 1000 Lakes Rally. It’s hard to believe but, in the midst of the huge crowds driving from stage-to-stage, we’ve managed to snare a perfect - and perfectly deserted - spot to enjoy a little lunchtime barbecue. It’s an oasis of calm among a desert of rally lunacy.
In spite of the leisurely lunch, we arrive at Surkee in plenty of time to bag a top spot, right on the ropes. This is a really different kind of vantage point – it’s open and the cars appear from our left travelling very quickly before braking hard and hurling themselves hard right before blasting off up the hill behind us. We’re in a bit of a clearing so we aren’t caught up in the trees but the open field behind us permits a view of the cars for several seconds – something of a luxury on a special stage.
That broad field also permits us the amusing, bizarre and disturbing spectacle of one man vomiting profusely while another urinates directly adjacent. Both chaps are slap bang in the middle of the field and appear utterly unfazed by each other’s presence. I don’t believe this is typical of Rally Finland but the vast quantity of Karhu consumed over the weekend perhaps makes such scenes inevitable.
While a little human interest adds spice to an event, this is all about the cars. We’ve managed inadvertently to pick a great place to watch. We’re right underneath the cars and it’s possible to lie on one’s belly as they whip past, mere feet away. It’s pretty thrilling and not a little visceral as the cars are sliding throughout, back ends jacked up dramatically under braking as the drivers prepare to drop their wheels into the ditch on the inside of that tight right-hander for maximum tractive force up the hill and out of our sight, revs blaring as they hammer towards the next hazard.
Once again it’s the VW twins who look most comfortable. The speed they carry is imperious, while the Fiestas are more expressive but not as quick. The Fords adopt greater rake under braking and seem to be squirming around a little more as they appear into view. This is pretty nuanced stuff and perhaps the mind plays tricks but the great thing about loose-surface rallying is that you really can see different lines and different approaches. Some drivers get air over bumps which their peers miss altogether. There’s no formula here and that makes it exciting to watch.
Directly opposite us, a local farmer appears to have sharpened his entrepreneurial skills and is using one of his fields as an impromptu helicopter landing pad. We count up to ten at any time. It looks as if the best-heeled spectators can rent a chopper for the day and follow the stages that way. They simply land on one corner before flying off to the next viewing area. At one stage, three helicopters disappear sequentially, all heading towards the same piece of the horizon; it’s like something out of Apocalypse Now though obviously not the weird bit at the end with Marlon Brando.
We cross the track and settle on the ‘outfield’ – if such a thing exists on an open-loop track – to enjoy the last few WRC3 runners with a beer. Even the little front wheel drive tiddlers are terrific fun to watch, fully wrung-out laterally, longitudinally and even vertically. This pause offers a quick chance to reflect on the weekend’s activity. Rally Finland deserves its status as one of the world’s great racing spectacles and the local fans are more consumed by ‘the fever’ than just about any of group of race-goers in the world. It certainly demands patience and commitment from those fans but the rewards are truly special.
Our first time here ends with a hugely popular local victory; Latvala delivering a second consecutive win at home over the fastest Rally Finland of all time. The home favourite averaged almost 80 mph over the four days of competition. To witness that kind of speed at close quarters is truly life-affirming if you love the sight of racing cars on the limit. All the trekking through the woods, the long waits between runs and the tiny snapshot visuals of the cars in full flight are a small price to pay for the amazing sensory overload of WRC at its spiritual home.
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