VOL. 53 Issue 17 may 3, 2014 P79
bumps, but the AJ followed your com-
mands accurately and willingly. A nice
bike.
As a typical regularity run, the D-J is
all about maintaining average speeds,
varying from 15 mph to 35 mph, through
the controlled section. Some are barely
six miles in length, others much longer—the lon-
gest being 42 miles, with 15 changes of speed.
Three stopwatches are on the rally dash.
Beneath, a roller strip carries the route and pace
notes in a box that conceals the instruments.
One you set running as you are counted off at the
start, and try to match it to the pace notes, which
display cumulative time each day. The others are
spare, for extra timing duties. It is easy to get
muddled with the pace notes. Not that they help
much. Legends of marker points are few and far
between on the timed sections; and the land-
marks wilfully vague. For example: "Tree."
Or, "Bridge." Or, "Overhead wires." Tree? I
was passing through a forest the first time it
suggested I should be ticking that one off.
With bikes starting at one-minute intervals,
and in different speed groups, you can't use
anybody else as a marker. As a rally virgin, I
was glad of any tips, like counting the white lines
passed in a measured time interval, say 30 sec-
onds. If you know how many lines per mile, you
can then compute your speed. Sometimes there
are even helpful mileage posts. But road mainte-
nance in the new South Africa does not meet high
standards, nor are the white lines very reliable.
In 2016, for the first time, on-board trackers
plugged into computers at the finish stages took
the place of manned marshal posts at unex-
pected places. It meant there were less people to
wave to, but no human error.
Winner Ralph
Pitchford sets off
for 400 miles of
near perfection
on his 1926
Triumph 500.
