| Introduction to the St Mary's Trophy
for Group 2 Saloons The saloon car race on
the Sunday morning was fast, furious and a good race by anyone's standards.
To say it rained would be to understate the conditions. Suddenly
the weather changed from tolerable rain to very wet indeed as a squall blew in rendering
umbrellas almost unusable. This coincided with the start of the St. Mary's Trophy race and
the cars appeared from out of a mountain of spray with Grant Williams, presumably on brand
new tyres, out in front having ploughed through from the third row of the grid.
His driving was absolutely spectacular with long sideways power
slides which quickly put him well ahead of the rest of the field. After four or so laps he
lost it at Madgwick, recovered but lost it again to fall back down the order from where he
found it impossible to get back into the action for the rest of the race. It was an
impressive drive though and for me it was a high spot of the weekend.
Once the Jag had departed Gerry Marshall and John Rhodes got
locked into battle for first place, Rhodes ahead until the penultimate lap when Gerry
slithered past in drying conditions to win by a very slim margin of less than a second.
Next up were the two mini Coopers of Norman Grimshaw and Lionel
Dodkins who had fought back after the heavy metal had been able to take advantage of their
bigger tyres and better traction to get by them at the start.
Peter Mockler's nimble Renault Dauphine was a site for sore
oreilles showing Bill Shepherd's magnificent all grunt and gravitas high inertia Galaxie
how to go round corners on tippy toes. In the wet the Galaxie gave a new meaning to tuck
'n roll. American Graffiti recycled.
Rob Wilson's light touch brought the John Coombes' Jaguar safely
home in sixth place and the very pretty Ford Falcon which looked like it might have been
happier cruising El Camino Real, driven by David Clarke, made it to the line in one piece
a little further back.
Stirring stuff, with all the drivers trying very hard indeed to
keep it on the island. Well worth getting soaked to the skin for. Memories are made of
this kind of race. |