Syd Stelvio – Gaucho Trail Day 3: Santa Cruz do Sul to Chapeco – 446km
Last night was a restless one for many, as a fierce storm raged in the skies above Santa Cruz do Sul for most of the night. The windows and doors of the Hotel Aguas Claras rattled in the unrepenting wind, as the dark of the night was split by flashes of lightning and deafening thunder, and the rain saturated everything beneath it.
The wrath of the storm continued into morning, making its temper felt as the cars trundled onto the cobbled streets of Santa Cruz, the uncompromising rain beating a tattoo on windscreens and roofs, it wasn’t a good day to be in an open top machine, or indeed to be marshalling.
After escaping the Wednesday morning rat run of the city, the landscape took on a more rural backdrop, with a continuation of the agriculture of the previous day but becoming ever more jungle like as the road climbed into the Serra Guacha. The rain was relentless now, and low cloud clung to the peaks of the hills atop the densely forested slopes, spilling down into the valleys in places. The road was now a dirt track and in the valley floor the Pardinho River was an angry torrent of chocolate brown water, it was all starting to feel like a proper adventure.
It was easy to forget that we were on our way to the days first reg, the first of four that were planned into the itinerary, but as the jungle road came within sight of the reg start, just on the other side of the Pardinho, the river would have the last laugh. The crossing, passable when the marshals’ vehicles went through earlier that morning, had now engulfed the narrow concrete ledge that served as a ford. Waves of water broke on the concrete as bits of trees washed downstream in the barrage, it was impassable and so a lengthy detour ensued, retracing our steps to find a bridge across the water.
Eventually the field arrived at the start of the reg, and one by one began the 10km uphill climb through the forest as the lightning returned and the thunder boomed like field guns overhead. It was quite the ride, with the surface beneath a treacherous mix of slippery rock, rivulets of water and thick orange mud. Waterfalls cascaded from the slopes, crossing the tracks, increasing the technical challenge of the reg as the road passed between thick greenery and the odd settlement. All the while the river was a constant companion in the valley below. It was incredible fun, and it continued for many kilometers after the competitive section had ended, as the train of rally cars made its way back to tarmac along the seemingly endless forest tracks.
Sometime around midday the cars arrived at what should have been the mornings passage control, late, smeared with the filth of the road and with drivers and navigators exhausted from the morning’s exertion and concentration, but with smiles on faces. Another reg should have followed but was cancelled to make up some time before the lunch halt. The weather was showing no signs of relenting, and the rain continued to fall and despite leaving lunch on time only one of the afternoons regs would run. The main roads were becoming choked with lorry traffic at this point, with the ever-increasing density of freight becoming slower and slower in the rain, creaking under its own weight as the trucks suffered up the hills. With very few places to pass the wagons, overtaking became an art in itself, particularly in the unpleasant conditions.
Thankfully the reg took the route well away from any traffic, on a track that passed through undulating agricultural land with fields of sweetcorn and wildflowers stretching into the distance. More evidence of the rains was present, with the Rio Abauna that the road skirted having well and truly burst its banks, though luckily, we were much higher than the waters. Towards the end of the regularity there was probably one of the first tricky navigational sections, as the road split four ways and, inevitably, so did the competitors. Cars headed in all directions, and at one point one of the Porsches returned the wrong way down the route, causing a kerfuffle with the rallies resident Sunbeam Tiger, leaving the Tiger stuck in the mud.
The identity of the Porsche in question is still unknown, but it couldn’t have been the white and orange machine of the Dippie’s, the rally leaders, as that achieved a best on the day score of only 5 seconds of penalty across the two regs, with driver Martin seemingly having found enough resolve not to throw the back end out at every opportunity. It’s amazing what the navigator’s pencil can achieve.
The results seemed not to matter much though, as the rally entered Chapeco for the nights halt, to find scenes of destruction as a Tornado had torn through the city just hours before the arrival of the rally. Rooves had been torn from buildings and other infrastructure had been flattened, and the city had lost power with bits of buildings caught in the overhead lines. Luckily the evenings hotel had its own generators, but it left us all thinking of those in much less fortunate a position.
But, to finish on a less dramatic note, my final duty of the evening is to wish car 38’s navigator, Annette Rolner, a very happy birthday as she celebrates her 21st birthday. I hope Lars keeps you well stocked with bubbles this evening.
Syd.
