© Aaron Brown
After completely losing a shock at the 100 Acre Wood Rally, my fellow BMW rallyists sprang into action to lend a hand.
When it comes to race preparation, I'm a total mess. Generally, my rally car-a 1995 BMW E36 M3 coupe-barely squeezes through tech inspection. On top of that, I tend to show up without a crew and lacking spare parts.
Basically, I do it wrong. This time around was no different. That strategy, or lack of, nearly bit me in the a** last weekend at the American Rally Association's 100 Acre Wood rally based out of Salem, Missouri.
© Aaron Brown
e36 m3
On my way to the event, I dropped in on fellow E36 rallyist and professional mechanic Mike Cessna who helped me diagnose a weird suspension noise at the last-minute and supplied me with a part or two to make sure my car would be rally-legal for the weekend ahead. Turns out, desperately seeking help from my racing friends would be a common theme.
Research
The first day of the event went down without a hitch for me and my codriver, Road & Track staff writer Brian Silvestro. We were getting comfortable, picking up speed, finding a solid rhythm, and keeping the car together on the sometimes-dicey stages in the Mark Twain National Forest.
On the second day, things got a bit more complicated.
On Saturday, we had seven stages left to run. A few of those were just duplicate stages, which might sound like it'd make things easier. It absolutely did not. Specifically, I'm talking about the stage known as"Southern Loop."
If you were at the rally last weekend, you probably heard about this stage. Not because of any spectacular jumps or road features, but because it was a total destroyer of cars. And we ran it three times. THREE whole times.
Here's what other competitors had to say about Southern Loop in the North America Rally Facebook group.
"It looked like a drive-through junkyard by the second pass...Probably seven bumper covers. 12 fender liners. Many other miscellaneous parts."
"Ironically enough, it was a car part that took us out on the 2nd pass"
© David Cosseboom/Dirtfish
Those water crossings were no joke.
The stage was basically a mixture of water crossings, deep mud ruts, heavy loose gravel, mild jumps, and steep muddy climbs. It was the perfect cocktail of the worst the Mark Twain National Forest had to throw at us.
The first time we ran it, I was left speechless by how tormenting it was. The noise of piles of loose gravel scraping my skid plate and the rest of the M3's underside, the nonstop side-to-side shaking over deep muddy potholes; it was bad. And to be honest, I wasn't even driving that fast. At least, compared to some of the other competitors.
At the end of the stage, I had a problem. Under wheelspin, the rear of the M3 would shake violently and make terrible noises. At first, I thought it was a flat. I was wrong.
My rear left shock was almost completely gone. Nothing was holding the knuckle on the back of that corner's hub to the shock tower. The mount was still bolted in at the top, but it was serving no use. The car was riding on its spring. On top of that, we still had another stage to transit to and run before being able to return to our centralized service location to attempt to fix the issue.
© Peter Lapinski
If it looks broken, that's probably because it is.
After running the next stage at an extremely low speed in an attempt to preserve the M3, we were passed by a handful of our competitors. This was fine. We just needed to make it back to service so we could continue on with the event.
Once back, I sprang into recovery mode. Brian and I drove directly over to our fellow E36 M3 competitors-who happen to have a nicer car and are much faster than us-on the Bearded Ryno Rally Team. Ryan, the team's driver, was happy to let me borrow his old set of Bilstein HD spares, since he was just going to send them in to parts supplier FCP Euro for their lifetime warranty swap. I grabbed the shocks up and headed over to our other BMW rally friends.
The very-kind folks from Cooper Autoworks in Illinois were running their S52-swapped 325is E30 rally car this year until things got a little too crazy on some jump landings. These guys, Calvin and Kelsey (who are also quicker than us), ended up dropping out of the running due to a broken oil pan and a heavily damaged skid plate. But even after ending their rally early, they stuck around and offered to crew and care for Brian, myself, and our M3 during service times.
Weren't we lucky.
The Cooper team immediately had me pull my M3 right next to their resting E30, got my car in the air, and had the remnants of the broken strut off in almost no time. Brian went under the car and unbolted the shock bolt-which somehow didn't rattle itself out-Calvin unscrewed the shock mounts, and they immediately tossed the used Bilstein HD replacement in. They were done in record time.
After tidying up the rest of the car, Brian and I went back out for three more stages and ran them without issue. At the next service, the Cooper folk brought us into their care once again, helping us swap wheels, tighten a loose hood pin, secure some underbody protection that'd fallen off, and make sure Brian and I were staying hydrated and fed. They were our rally angels.
By the end of our rally, we somehow managed to lose that same borrowed shock, on the same Southern Loop stage, which meant we once again had to tackle two other stages while missing a full piece of suspension kit and transit around 30 miles back to the rally's headquarters. Somehow, we made it.
When we got back, our fellow BMW rallyists were there to congratulate us on finishing. That alone felt like victory.