The weather was hot under a perfect blue sky as the circus rumbled out from under the dappled sunlight of the plane trees in the centre of Liege. The competitors bikes and cars headed for scrutineering at a vast Renault dealer, chaperoned by very rapid Belgium Gendarmes on their BMW's, sirens blazing. People lined the streets, waving and smiling as the the noisy spectacle snaked by. The 54th Rallye International Police was under way.
The event is a competition mainly between the French, British and Belgium Police forces, with occasional entries from the other European States. The Rallye organisers for the last couple of years have allowed non Police to ride as guests. It was in this capacity that I was there. I spent the week with a group of serving and ex Met Officers, all fast and all very social, it was shaping up to be a very good if potentially dangerous week. The French and Belgium's dominate the bike rally, the French Gendarmes have to qualify for the event, which for some reason I couldn't understand, we British don't. The French Police race team are effectively professional riders and compete full time in events all over Europe.
The Rallye is four laps of 40 miles or so with four timed closed road sections on each circuit, all held on public roads deep in the beautiful Ardenne country side. The event is unusual in that that it it is open to cars and motorcycles, although they don't compete against each other. The cars run first followed by the bikes, all leaving the timed sections at one minute intervals. The Rallye runs for 12 hours or so dependent on how many competitors have become too intimately involved with the scenery.
The countryside here is beautiful, vertiginous hills, deep canyons, the Earths rocky bones exposed here and there, vast deep Forests giving way to vivid green fields filled with very contented Belgian Blue cattle.(eat them if you get the chance) For those of you with a History bent, the area is where the Battle of the Bulge took place, the last big German Offensive of WW2. It is hard to reconcile the peace you are looking at with the violence of war, but the Military graveyards and occasional Tanks still standing in small towns tell a different story. The competitors sign on and fill in all the appropriate paperwork midweek before the Saturday
event and so get two days to recce the route. The old hands have a big advantage in that the route always runs in the same area, so most of the timed sections are familiar to some degree.
Race day on Saturday arrived to an Azure sky and the promise of a perfect day, the competitors arrived at Service for 7.30 am and prepared for the event. The start and finish are in the beautiful little village of Ferrrieres. We are allocated start times and given time cards which tell where and when to arrive at each section and penalties apply if you are outside of your allocated arrival time.
The Rallye begins, engines rev, big smiles, the smell of hot metal and testosterone, its going to be good day, a ripple of fear runs through me. These are dangerous roads. The cars dissapear from view first. Into the countryside with the rattle and bark of loud exhausts and the reek of exotic petrol. Mitsibushi Evo's, BMW M3's, a classic Alfa and everything in between start their day. We, the motorcycle competitors do not not catch another glimpse of them until late evening. The only evidence of their passing is the gravel and mud they pull onto the road each lap.
The field of bikes is very eclectic, although the favoured tools are supermoto's. Virtually all the bike manufacturers are represented, from a Buell to a mass of KTM's, Suzuki's, Yamaha's and Honda's, even a Beta and a couple of CCM's, capacities run from a 125 through to a 1200. To be at the pointy end of the the Rallye it seems that one cylinder isn't enough and the winner this year was on a
heavily modded Yamaha Fazer 600 and the favourite was the Buell. I watch the bikes in front of me clock in and ride up towards the first section with some trepidation. The roads are pretty much all very narrow, often slippery, nearly always bumpy and full of blind bends which I am reliably informed need to be taken flat out, I don't think so!
I have ridden the route three times in total so it is not a complete surprise, but arriving at corners at twice the speed kind of throws out your internal map, ah well. With the sound advice of 'take it easy for the first lap' ringing in my ears the magnificently moustachioed Marshall counts me down, five fingers, four, three, two, one, his arms drops and I go. A blur of hedges, little villages and dark woods ensue, the road in places deep in gravel with grass growing on its crest. I have no idea where the road is going most of the time so have to ride it as unseen. This is not going to be a winning strategy it quickly becomes apparent. I struggle on the broken up tarmac covered in gravel, it is an environment in which I have no experience and I totter through the difficult sections like the amateur I am. I get through the first lap in one piece and have an uneasy feeling that I have to do it another three times. Luckily for me the fastest of the British riders is one minute in front me all day and helps keep my timekeeping up to speed.
I arrive at Service for the first time, elated. It is a hive of activity, full of over excited men refuelling their bikes, adjusting suspension, cleaning visors and getting food and water into themselves. A twenty minute break and then onto Ferrieres again. Feeling better as I start the second lap, I at least have an understanding this time of what is coming, even if it is the most general terms. What I wasn't expecting was that the blind corner I took in third gear on throttle last time is now covered with large stones. I pick the bike up run wide, eye the barbed wire fence on the exit and on the gas again. This is a dangerous sport. On it goes all day, the sun burning above, the cow's and Forest indifferent and the field of bikes sorting itself out at the top and the rest of us just getting through it. By the third and fourth lap I am getting much quicker and improving my times steadily, although the fast boys do not have anything to fear in the near future. I crashed on gravel on the third and was glad I was on a bike that absorbed the crash and carried on. I wouldn't have been so lucky on the Kawasaki ZX6, whose rider Chris deserved a medal for completing the Rallye and finishing in a respectable position. On the third lap I came across a lorry on the third closed section, ah – that was what the franticly waved yellow flags were for. Luckily it was going the same direction as me, but it cost two minutes. The organisers awarded me my previous laps section time, which although fair I felt I was running a much quicker time on that section.
As the day progressed, sections that I had been hesitant on were now getting taken at full throttle. This is a very addictive sport, the feeling of getting it right is very satisfying. A good indicator of where the dangerous corners are and when it would be advisable to leave some margin are indicated by the number of spectators . And so it went on all day, slide, full throttle, dark woods, slippery roads under trees with the constant accompaniment of a screaming engine- superb. Throughout the event there are delays as damaged vehicles and debris are removed from the route. This causes the field to bunch up and all the competitors would get a breather and chat in the afternoon sun, comparing times and stories. Excited little boys walked up and down the queue of riders getting autographs and pats on the head, little boy heaven! The evening had descended as we all finished and arrived at Parc Ferme in Ferrieres. Tall tales and a welcome beer greeted us all in the Beautiful Village square. Everyone high on adreneline as the Swifts dart around under the trees screeching as they took a late supper, the mellow stone buildings radiating the days stored heat. We were going to be held until nine pm before the bikes were released from the holding area. Everyone was tired and wanted to go. The Clerk of the course was forced to release the bikes early as the sound of forty bikes being revved up left him with no real option but to release us. The French and Belgium's dominated the top places with the exception of a couple of very fast Brits in the top five and a Brit third overall in the Car class, Bravo chaps.
The week away was superb and there are too many people to thank and list here, but special thanks has to go to Robin and Paul who looked after all the MET boys so well, John Amos for the invite and Richard Watson for the help and problem solving.
So if you are inspired by the Rallye, dust off the leathers and get your application in for next year. It is hard to envisage a more satisfying motorsport event. Where else can you drink Belgium beer, eat fantastic food and get to trash around on Public roads legally, go on - you know you want to.
Geoff Haigh