Qui Me Comitat Vincebit
Hill Climbing - the Swiss Way
Ollon-Villars - 15 & 16th September, 2001
Hill climbing is an exact science with results dependent on hundredths of seconds and a perfect knowledge of the course. Hence the news that we would not be timed over this very technical 5-mile course was a distinct blessing.
The TOPS Team gathered at the bottom of Ollon-Villars Hill Climb on Friday afternoon looking somewhat bedraggled as it had rained almost unceasingly since we had entered the continent. The usual suspects were there with the Nash contingent made up of the Pilkingtons and Boswells, the C-type of Avon and Rossi and Valspar Special (also known as an AC Bristol) containing the Gilbart-Smiths. A selection of trailers and containers ranging from the palatial to the shed like disgorged the rest of the team. Robin Lodge had brought his stunning Lancia Ferrari re-creation, now running on a methanol/dope mixture, guaranteed to give headache, sinus trouble and probably death if stood behind for too long whilst running. Kirk Rylands had brought his HWM single seater, Erika Pilkington the G.P. Cisitalia, Roger Saul his 8c Alfa Romeo, Ewen Getley a 3/4½ Bentley, Sir John Venables-Llewellyn a Type 35 Bugatti, Paul and Mary Grant Cisitalia and Amilcar, Guyatt's Talbot Lago and Chris Wilson his McLaren M1. The latter seemed to be having a bet with himself as to how high he could make Trish jump as he always seemed to start it when she had her back turned. Barry Wood was seen pretending his Austin Healey was a Lister Jaguar and therefore avoiding the Team and their ribaldry.
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The organisation was distinctly un-Swiss and confusion reigned so the TOPS crew contented themselves by following Mrs 'P' around in a sheep like trance asking her questions as to where we get scrutinised etc. It had, of course, been organised for 'them' to come to us. When the scrutineer did arrive it was very relaxed and you only had to produce your helmet and a fire extinguisher. One of the problems for the organiser was that the TOPS Team wanted to park together even though their cars were competing in different classes. With official work done we had the opportunity to look around the paddock which for a small event had drawn a quality entry. Of particular note was a stunning SP mid-engined V6 Ferrari in nicely scruffy condition as well as a beautifully turned out Tour de France. Boswell's eyes were on younger equipment, especially a Cega-Maserati with a 3 litre V12 engine that sounded fabulous, along with a collection of Abarths and three very nice Porsche 906/910s.
Mr. Rylands seemed to take particular umbrage with what looked to me like a very nice unrestored pre-war two seater Maserati open wheeler. His jaundiced eye had spotted some webbing on the front axle that had been welded, not cast, meaning the vehicle was self evidently suspect.
We finally decamped to the Park Hotel in Villars (one of the TOPS sponsors) which proved exceedingly comfortable and had a magnificent swimming pool and gym etc. In keeping with the motoring theme they appeared to have asked Jean Alesi to staff the bar and as the evening wore on he became more and more liberal with his discretion to serve free drinks. For the first evening we ended up in the basement of a local restaurant which served an excellent meal in spite of the deafening noise we generated.
Amazingly, given the previous couple of days weather, Saturday dawned bright and clear offering some spectacular views from the hotel. After an early breakfast we got down to the bottom car park before the roads were shut and fettled the cars as were necessary. The joy of the Jaguar being that little preparation is required I contented myself with drinking as much of the free coffee as possible and fighting of Rossi and his obsessions about parts catalogues, cam covers and correct colour for the back of the mirror. Mr. Pilkington's Lago thumbed a lift with the Lancia Ferrari (leaving Trisha to drive the Sebring up the hill) and both it and Martin Morris' ERA were going through the rituals that all pre-selector gear box cars seem to need.
After more confusion about when we were running, all eyes were on Brian Gilbart-Smith who was the first of our Group for the off causing a lemming like rush to follow him when he finally got underway. This resulted in a log jam in the car park when we were told that the Formula Juniors were to go in front of us. Finally we were motioned way and headed off up to the start point. The course itself is 5 miles long and takes you up 800 metres in the process. Whilst there were a number of quick sections these were interspersed with very tight hairpins, most of which seemed to tighten on the exit and wee an excellent opportunity to see if your limited slip diff is still working to specification. It wasn't. The organisers had at least given a nod towards safety and installed a number of small chicanes on the straighter parts in order to keep speed down and they had also made efforts with straw bales in the most dangerous points. Given some of the drop offs on the course there was little doubt that this was not a course to get over excited with. As the event was not timed, your only worry was being overtaken by the car following which was set off with a 30 second delay.
With the final warning that it was slippery under the trees I headed off at a very sedate pace as I had not even driven up to the Hotel and had absolutely no idea where I was going. This was the only reason that Rossi was able to overtake me, something which I would not allow him to do for the rest of the weekend. Halfway up the course you passed through the hamlet of Huemoz with strict instructions to obey the speed limit of 40 kmh. In order to enforce this they had a digital display showing your speed which was useful for checking the calibration of one's speedo. The faster you went the more excited the official in charge became and I am convinced Rossi was cheating massively and this alone allowed him to gain on me.
At the top of the hill the organisers had laid on glasses of the local rocket fuel which encouraged you to go faster in the afternoon, especially if added to the fuel tank. The ladies on the trip, who had been conspicuous by their absence, took this opportunity to return from their sojourn at the top of the mountain and attack the freebies. Also on offer were some suspicious looking sausages which in most cases was all people got for lunch due to further confusion by the organisers. The afternoon run was on a completely dry road and, therefore, much more entertaining. Robin Lodge got top score by overtaking seven competitors on his run and both Martin Morris and Richard Pilkington appeared to be hot on his heels.
The promised evening banquet seemed to be another victim of the organiser and we arranged our own TOPS Gala Dinner, complete with paper aeroplanes, in the Hotel. This was followed by a short speech welcoming Count Jacques de Würstemberger (Hervé) whose MG K3 opened the hill and who was due to be guest of honour with the organisers but had already agreed that morning to join TOPS before they remembered to invite him! At least there was now only a short stagger to the bar where Jean Alesi was again on parade and free drinks for the ladies were forthcoming. More worryingly he seemed to have my room number off pat and so we decided that this would be a good time to start on those suspiciously clear blue Alpine liquids which cause instant paralysis followed by coma. Rossi was drinking a particularly filthy concoction, the name of which I have thankfully forgotten. If you wish to try this at home mix 3 parts cough mixture with 7 parts turpentine and boil for three weeks.
The next day dawned cold, misty and wet effectively ending all chances of putting our sketch track knowledge to serious use. Due to the conditions we were one of the first off as the motor cycles had been delayed for safety reasons. Apart from leaning my speedo was marginally under reading, the good news was that Rossi did not appear in my, wrongly coloured, mirror. As we assembled at the top of the hill the heavens opened and we were treated to a fine display of hail and sleet. It seemed a good signal to head for the free drinks bar and due to the lack of lunch yesterday, most decided to eat up in the town rather than heading back. The stupid members of the party, now thoroughly soaked, decided it would be a good time to head back down the hill and put our coats on, due to everyone else being at the top of the hill there were no problems with getting lunch at the bottom.
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Following a brief clear spell it was decided to set the bikes off whilst the road was at least trying to dry. As they were in a separate paddock I hadn't seen much of them and of particular note were a couple of very nice Ducati singles, a Hercules 50cc and my favourite, a 750 two stroke Suzuki. There was also a huge collection of side cars with mainly female passengers, most of whom seemed to be going like the clappers. As they disappeared out of sight the heavens opened again and we were due to follow them up. The side cars obviously had problems as we passed six that had spun off at various stages of the climb.
Little to report on the last run except that I managed to get the speed trap official to actually leap in the air with rage.
The final evening's celebrations took place at a delightful little restaurant which would have boasted stunning views if it weren't for low cloud, sleet, now etc. An excellent meal was rounded off by a minor snowball fight courtesy of a car that had obviously been further up the hill during the day. Jean Alesi was awaiting our return at the Hotel with the cry of room '69', however, due to early departure next morning I stood clear of the fire water on offer. The Pilkingtons, Boswells, Gilbart-Smiths, Guyatts, Venables-Llewelyns, Morris and Rossi were going on the TOPS Tour of the Alpine passes whilst the rest of us were heading home. There was much talk of early morning departures, however, come 6.30 a.m. I was the only one standing outside. This proved to be a remarkably sensible decision by the others as it was now snowing properly and heading down the hill with tinted goggles was a rather hit or miss affair.
It proceeded to rain for almost the entire journey back and I contented myself with the thought of being home at a sensible hour, well in front of the others. It was thus doubly unfortunate to run out of petrol and have Mr. Wilson to pull over to help me seeing as he had left at 8.00 a.m. after a decent breakfast. I would, therefore, like to publicly thank Mr. Pilkington who had emptied Chris' jerry can meaning that I had to stump up £56 for a 10 litre top up from the French recovery serve, a lesson learned and one I will not repeat.
Many thanks to Philippe Sauge and his team and Trisha and Richard for organising an excellent weekend which despite the weather was great fun. I am only sorry I cannot join the rest of the TOPS Team for Trisha's organised Tour.
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R.J.A.
Ollon-Villars_TOPS Team entry_list Report on the TOPS_Tour which followed the hill climb
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