GT2010 - day one - Toyota Land Cruiser, 3.0 liter, 1978

I must say that I started preparing for the Gorgans as early as ever — two months before the date of departure. I wanted to do a lot, but it turned out, as always, before the start, to finish the main thing.

Five days before the departure, my winch was not ready, and my navigator Slava finally put an end to his participation in Gorgany - work is above all. These two minuses completely crossed out my participation and I could not come to terms with this.

The issue with the quinoa was solved slowly, but there was a fallback: my friend suggested an electric quinoa with his 70s - it is 24 volts, you only need to pile a platform and connect.

But with the navigator, the ambush was more difficult. Almost all the worthy navigators I know have already ridden Gorgany, some have been to the Silk Way rally, someone basically couldn’t participate for almost a week without work ... In general, fate prepared a surprise for me - a small and nimble girl became my navigator. named after Maria.

StormMaria

I must say that I was quite cautious about such tandems - in our trophy sometimes there are he-she crews, but these are more often married couples or a rare exception. And I also saw how relationships develop in stressful situations.

But there is nothing to do, let's go.

I felt the first fruits of such a tandem even at registration: the small and nimble ShturmMaria completely saved me from all the hassle of paperwork and organizational red tape, leaving me only the issue of preparing equipment and equipment.

Registered, rigged, and plastered, Lemonade Joe stood in the clearing under the high twilight, waiting to leave for the enclosed park.

I must say that we were surprisingly lucky with the weather: the sun shone all day, and with the onset of night, the full moon came out and there was a wonderful lantern in an absolutely cloudless sky. And all around there are black silhouettes of the surrounding mountains, a mountain river roars very close by, dark tall fir-trees, the decoration of our clearing, cast deep black shadows in which tents, jeeps, people disappear from sight ... A fabulously charming picture ... I don’t want to break it either not a sound, not a word, not a ray of a forehead, not a glimpse of a fire… The air quickly cools, tongues of fog protrude here and there…

The day before, when we arrived, everything was the same, and only the lone Samurai was haunted by the nearest hill to him: he goes out on another assault, the light rushes restlessly from side to side, a small gasoline devil under the hood chirps angrily, the rear red lights rush from side to side… lift taken. Return to the camp and then a new attempt ... All this happened in the distance, somewhere about a kilometer from me, and practically did not disturb the surrounding peace ... A large heavy Patrol woke up to the noise of the Samurai - that I did not doubt that it was he even in the dark - in size and diesel noise. He is also trying to climb the hill, about which Org said: "Tudi tilki on the quadric" ... Having not gone even a tenth of the ascent, he froze for a long time ... The idyll is restored, nature has won ...

It was yesterday. Today everything is quiet, restless Samurchik and Lemonade Joe are locked in a closed park. Tomorrow is the start of the three-day trophy.

Morning starts at 4:45.
Cold. Damp. Dark. The moon has moved to the side of another mountain and is about to set behind it.

A cup of coffee from a thermos, a radio station and navigation in a backpack, adrenaline and cold fetter my thoughts, I definitely forgot something, but here's what ... now we'll find out.

Our start zone is two and a half kilometers from the camp and the closed park. The key is to start, warming up the candles, the orange indicator says: TIME! Diesel start... ah! how great it is when the engine starts without problems!

What is it on glass? Yes, it's a mess! So, it turns out it's already freezing.
The same awakened forces of diesel horses are rumbling around, quadrics are chirping, petrol engines are coughing up ... This whole army will now begin its movement. All TRs, quads and tourists have their own start zones. It's probably right. But it deprives mass entertainment and collective nervousness of the launch procedure.

Navigation fasteners, installation of the latest devices in their places, a brief exchange of phrases with the surrounding crews, departure to the launch zone, wet windows do not provide a view, but the line of cars begins to disperse, and here are our TP1s.

Instead of the declared 20 crews, there were only 14 at the start. Our number is 140, we are the last to start.
Three! Two! One! Start! Rushed!

Masha begins the process of directing the pilot to the target, but I am trying in this cold foggy darkness not to fall into some kind of chalepa. Turns, bridges, forks - my navigator seems to know everything. No one is driving in front, no one is behind. Climbing uphill on a good dirt road, I have already got involved in the rhythm of this road and ... stop! Point 101. As soon as I stop, I hear a powerful horn from behind.

- Who's there?

It turns out that this timber truck quietly crept up behind us and now demands to give way to it. I wonder where I should turn: up to the point on a drop-dead ascent or down on a drop-dead drop?
We missed each other, and Shniva is standing behind the timber truck. These are Lviv. The navigators go up into the forest, I'm trying to figure out how to go here. A solid mess of earth, branches and whispers - this is a skidder here climbing behind a cut down forest. A joyful voice in the radio says: "GO!"

I'm going. The lowering gear has been switched on for a long time, the front end is connected, the locks are on, the first lowered one and Lemonade, zealously clinging to the chips, begins the first difficult climb. It's dark, the side lights illuminate a tunnel of thick trunks, and I can't see what's next. At some point, the upward movement stopped and began to slide to the left into the unknown. I throw gas, I squeeze out coupling, I press a brake - slipping has stopped. And then how? Maybe we'll unwind the winch before it's too late?
I drive away doubts, gas to the floor, the steering wheel is to the right and we break out of the trap, we go slowly forward. Here is the point. Photo.

In my head thoughts about the descent. The Lvov pilot is insuring below, gradually sliding Lemonade climbs out onto the road. Phew! I warmed up, warmed up, and ready to fight on. We congratulate each other with Masha with the first point, say goodbye to the Lviv people, go ahead!

Point 100.

Insidious water-saturated Carpathian clay. More precisely, clayey black soil. Or black plastic. Stickiness is below average, but there is simply no bearing capacity - it parted under the wheel in different directions and swallows the wheels. Fortunately, there is something to swan for!

The main thing is only that the nose is set in the right direction. The point is taken, we leave on a swan, everything is normal.

On the way to the next one, we see the Lviv Shniva somehow climbing the slope and trying to turn around on it. Not very successful. We agreed on cooperation: we will pull them out, they will insure us. We also take two more points.

I am sadly convinced that failures have begun - the compressor is silent, the locks do not work, sorry. It's a pity.
The exit from 109 is not very easy: Shniva pulls with a low-powered six, an effort of the order of 2 tons minus the underpowered battery.

We put a block, then we tie another one to a pine tree, and in the last section we put send tracks.

Escaped.
A difficult return descent into the stream is when you have to jump from a side 3-3.5 meters high onto the stones of the stream, standing sideways to this side. It is advisable to click on bridges, not to catch a diagonal, and not to tumble.

Happened!

And suddenly there is a nasty rattle. I know him, I don't hate him. I cringe even now when I remember him. It was I who did not turn off the winch drive when I jumped into the stream. This mistake, which was avoided in the previous two competitions, did happen. We're standing in the stream, fired up by a good start to the competition, at the very beginning of the first day, and the

Sun is shining and the grass is growing,
But you don't need it.
Everything is wrong, and everything is not right,
When your swan is sick.
Mmmm... When your swan is sick.
Mmm. When sick...

I can say that if it were not for SturmMaria, there might not have been a continuation.

Continued: www.drive2.ru/cars/toyota…/288230376151786509/#post