Not that I expect there will be a surge of overseas entries for this super event, but the 500 mile Tasmanian Rally offers the unusual with closed road tarmac stages. Much like a huge Isle of Man with scenery varying from gentle dairy farm pastureland to bleak mountain views, the Lactos is run in the more barren Northwest of the Island. Roads are generally deserted, but very efficient closures include fleets of police, fire and ambulance vehicles, manned by the friendliest people you can imagine. It's not often that every copper you meet gives you a wave - even the ones who breathalysed the entire entry at the start of one special stage!

Run in two parts, the first forty-odd cars were the stuff of World Cup events, giving us a chance to see the latest from Suburu, Toyota and Mitsubishi plus Carrera 4's and even a Lotus Elise. On the few occasions we were near enough to a stage start to see the 5-4-3-2-OFF, one had to be staggered at the acceleration, speed and handling of today's rallycars. The few Oz and Yank V.8's sounded great, but the clouds of tyre smoke and wheelspin were a big contrast to the modern departures which were smooth, relatively quiet and bloody quick!

Our half of the rally consisted of another forty-odd, but this time they were classics. We had Porsches, a couple of Ferraris, lots of Lotus variations including a Cortina, MG's, Coopers, Triumphs, plus Inspector Morse's Jaguar. Classic Yank Fords and Chrysler and an Iso Rivolta (last year's winner) made up the heavy brigade and - naturally - there were hordes of Spridgets, all celebrating their 40th birthday in grand style. I was lucky enough to be invited down to drive Bennetony's car, a 1275 version of the old Frog-Eye - more power than I ever had during the car's original outings, and it certainly went like the usual stuff of the shovel. Most of the drivers were in their twenties and thirties, listening avidly to every word of BS that I could think of, and beating the pants off me on most of the stages. Spridgets varied from stock looking jobs, through to lightweight, lowered full-house racers, but as a class, the competition was as fierce as anything that you would have seen at the front of an Alpine or a Manx in the "Good Old Days". Some of the stages were tight and twisting with loads of drops, while others had sections of flat out in top, with heart in mouth over the Crests - hoping that the co-drivers had kept the place on the pace notes. My co-driver - the owner's young son Allan, had never navigated, read pace-notes or competed, so the fact that we stayed on the road at almost competitive speeds spoke well for the driver who snaps up this likely lad. Many didn't, and there were cars scattered all over the countryside, including some expensive stuff from "up at the front" such as Elise and Alfa, but after two and a bit days of wonderful motoring it looked like Porsches won both halves of the Rally.

Our Class - by far the biggest, was won by my entrant Tony Bennetto, who's family actually come from Cornwall, ( true Healey fans!) by just 8 seconds from race car driver Mike Gigante on his first ever rally. He is about as big as the Michelin Man, and never stopped laughing as he flung his Sprite around corners he had never seen, without using pace notes... that lad could go far. We managed fifth in class ahead of a couple of Ferraris, the Jag, an Alfa and a Porsche, so our sponsor couldn't complain too much. The thing that surprised me the most, was the incredible roadholding of these new Bridgestone "sticky" tyres. Over the years we got quite used to slipping and sliding all over the place, this modern stuff hardly moves an inch, and with up-to-date limited slip diffs, there isn't even any wheelspin. While it doesn't detract from the fun, it certainly takes some getting used to, and helps to explain why modern motor sport seems to look like slot car racing.

Just can't wait for next year, but now it's blowing 30 knots, so I'm off into the Molokai Channel for a bit of windsurfing to keep in training!

Aloha John Sprinzel