Getting an old Peugeot 205 (and its driver) through UK's toughest rally

Standing here in Carmarthen's Guildhall Square, I can barely see the ramp that has been erected for the inbound procession, because of the horde of people surrounding me. It's snowing, but a wintry shower isn't going to subdue this vibrant crowd. Parked a metre away from me is a long line of historic rally cars stretching uphill and out of sight. As their engines fire into life, most notably that of a rip-snorting Lancia Stratos, the palpable buzz of the milieu builds. This, then, isn't a typical Wednesday evening in the town centre: this is the ceremonial start of the Roger Albert Clark Rally. Named in honour of the British rally great, the gruelling five-day event recaptures the spirit of the RAC Rallies of the 1970s and '80s, compelling competitors to tackle classic stages across England, Wales and Scotland. I'm here on service crew duty for my godfather, Charlie, going behind the scenes to find out what really happens on a historic rally. He drives past me in his hopped-up 1984 Peugeot 205 GTi and over the ramp. On the other side, 35 stages and 313 competitive miles await. Part of the crew Our team is formed of Charlie, co-driver Steve and service crew mates Andy, Stuart, my dad and me. It's our job to take all the pressure of maintenance away from the men in the car, who have racing lines and pace notes to worry about. Mending things is only half the job, though: we're also morale boosters, coffee makers and chefs. The service crew is split into two teams: one drives the chase car, which follows the rally car from stage to stage, while the other mans the service van and drives it to each service area. It's effectively a mobile garage and is kitted out with spare parts, tools, a fridge and vast stores of brown food. All hands on deck Each crew has just 25 minutes to service their car, which normally involves changing tyres, refuelling and attending to any mechanical problems. Ours works like a well-sorted Formula 1 team when our Peugeot comes in for its stops. Sure, we don't have the wheels swapped in under two seconds, but everyone knows their job. I leave the mechanical tasks to the others and instead prepare hot drinks and food (lots of coffee and carbs), clean the car and, as the youngest member, do all the literal heavy lifting. Just as we are about to send the car out after service, we pull a wheel stud out of the hub while trying to change the wheels. A frantic, quick-fire replacement is performed and they head out for the remaining stages just in time. Spirit of the RAC The service area is a frenzied, chaotic place that captures the true spirit of a historic rally, as demonstrated by the camaraderie and refusal-to-quit attitude of teams both large and small. This is best shown by a Czech team competing in a 1961 Skoda Octavia Super. It crashes heavily early on and looks damaged beyond repair, so you can imagine my surprise when I find the crew winching the inner wing back into place and mending the engine in the service park on day two. Incredibly, they get the Skoda going in time for the Scottish leg of the rally and go on to finish the event, which for many of the smaller outfits is as satisfying as winning the rally itself. Hot pursuit Our chase car follows Charlie's Peugeot to each stage, ready to provide support should anything fail. They're like the physios who run onto the pitch to help injured footballers, except in rallying there is usually something actually wrong and they can't simply spray the car with Deep Freeze and send it on its way-they need to be able to fix the car on site without losing any time. Manning the chase car is a more protracted affair than working in the service area, with lots of road miles and lots of waiting involved. The good news for us is that our Peugeot is flying along untroubled and only needs the wheel nuts torqued up every other stage. The chase car also allows us to see this year's hotshoes thundering through the unrelenting Sweet Lamb complex. Headlights blazing, revs soaring and cars carrying outrageous speed: the fearlessness of a rally driver is on full display. Kielder bites back My service duties end in Wales, as the crew head up to the Scottish Borders for the final three days. I follow via livestream as Charlie continues to perform exceptionally, running second in class. A superb finish is in sight, but this rally is brutally unforgiving, and on the penultimate stage he runs wide, spearing into the undergrowth and bending the Peugeot's chassis. It was a tough way to finish, having come so close to the end, but it had been a valiant effort from the driver and crew-and that spirit of mucking in is what the Roger Albert Clark Rally is all about.