Scenes. I hate that word. Or, more to the point, I hate it when it is deployed as a hashtag. All the cool kids in Scotland are using it right now as a kind of catch-all for every aspect of the lad banter culture I so despise. Anything from a photo of eight pints of Stella on a bar table to Arsenal scoring a last-minute winner to a drunken holiday in the Balearics can, with the addition of the magic post-script #scenes, be transformed into some joyous, memorable occasion.
Thus far I have steadfastly refused to append any of my tweets with this ghastly phrase. But last weekend, for the first and last time ever I was moved to deploy the hashtag. For I really did see something that was worthy of the descriptor #scenes.
If truth be told, before the Lake Superior Performance Rally I hadn’t really been up for writing about rallying. I was still feeling down about the awful events on Mull earlier in the month. But then photos started to come through on Facebook from America via Japan, and I remembered how great our sport can be at times. What had seemed impossible but twelve months previous had come to pass. Japanese driver Futoshi Murase, under the guidance of US co-driver Kieran Wright, was a two-wheel drive winner in the United States.
Rallying Stateside has been a long and torturous adventure for Futoshi Murase. When I first made contact with him in the New Year of 2013, he had just bought his first American rally car. He hadn’t rallied consistently since contesting most of the 2010 All-Japan Rally Championship in a Mitsubishi Lancer. Posted to Indianapolis on assignment, Murase wanted to get back out rallying and purchased a Ford Focus from North Carolina. The first two rallies went solidly enough, a seventh and then a fifth in class as Futoshi got used to the US rally culture, the car and the English-language pacenotes. But in 2014 frustration started to sink in. A retirement on the Ojibwe Forests Rally was followed by a pulled entry for the Lake Superior Performance Rally, the driver feeling that without upgraded suspension he wouldn’t be able to safely push as hard as he wanted to. The Focus was a good car, but with the two-wheel drive class being led by split-new turbocharged Fiestas it had maybe gone as far as Murase could take it.
The pressure was taking its toll on Futoshi. “I was the only Japanese driver rallying in America. I felt as if people around me were watching, as if I was somehow representing Japan,” he reflects. “If I was hopeless, if I was slow, then what would everyone think about Japanese drivers? Because of that there was pressure. Of course I said I was enjoying my rallying, but deep down inside could I really say I was enjoying myself?”
Pressure, much of it coming from within. The sense was that there was one final year to get it right. 2015 had to be the year Futoshi Murase became a winner on the Rally America series. In much the same way he did in his previous life back in Japan, Futoshi went to his employer – Honda – and was able to secure a Civic to rally through the Honda R&D Americas Team Honda Research and Honda Manufacturing of Indiana Racing Team programmes. Not a JDM-spec Type R, but a Civic of the size and shape he was familiar with developing during his day job. The Honda could take the man from Gifu closer to the two-wheel drive class leaders, but Futoshi carried over two crucial things from his rallies in the Focus. One was knowledge of the stages. The other was an exceedingly competent co-driver in Kieran Wright, part of the father-son team that built Futoshi’s previous Focus. (This is also a good point to extend a hat-tip to Ben Slocum, a former Dakar Rally co-driver who also competed with Murase and imparted his considerable experience of US rallying onto the Japanese driver).
First time out in the Civic Si on the 2015 Ojibwe Forests Rally went well, second two-wheel drive behind a very well-driven and set-up Ford Fiesta. There was a feeling, though, that Futoshi could go faster once he got the suspension sorted. Back home in Japan, too, excitement was brewing. RSTakeda boss Hiromi Takeda had set up a bulletin board encouraging fans to send their messages of support through to ‘his’ driver. Custom-made suspension from Ennepetal got sent from Nagoya to Indianapolis via courier. Takeda-san published an article on his blog titled ‘What it would mean for a Japanese driver to win in America’. Plane tickets were booked to get to Michigan, not only for the garage boss but also for a pro photographer from Japan. It seemed this was going to be Futoshi Murase’s last chance to win at rallying in the USA before the end of his assignment and a return to Japan. To quote my hero Colin McRae, it was shit or bust.
I really wanted to come and see the Lake Superior Performance Rally as well, not least because the Upper Peninsula of Michigan is somewhere I very much want to visit. A heavily forested peninsula with a small, distinctively-cultured and accented populace known as Yoopers, it reminded me very much of my home on the Black Isle. The US equivalent of me would most likely be a Yooper (or the kind of character you find in a Garrison Keillor novel). Autumn in America is also something special, with reds and bright yellows more like the kinds of things I’ve seen in Sapporo than the mushy brown slush we get in north Scotland. But autumn is the start of semester, which means I have classes to teach and students to supervise at university. Thankfully, though, Takeda-san was doing a sterling job of keeping the world updated with events on the U.P., not only articles and photos but also video interviews at every opportunity. How did scrutineering go? There’s a video for that. How did the crew feel about exhibiting their car at parc expose? There’s a video for that? How were things looking at the start of the day? You get the drift.
Everything was running as well as it could as night turned back into the second day and the Civic blasted through the autumnal north American woods. And people were noticing too. “During the rally, people were asking me ‘You’re quick! How many litres is your engine? What kind of transmission are you running?’” This mattered a lot to Futoshi, an awful lot (the engine and gearbox were standard, in case you’re wondering). “I felt I had to uphold the honour of the Japanese Championship in a sense. As a Japanese two-wheel drive champion, I wanted to show people that Japanese drivers could be quick. If I couldn’t do that, then I would have felt really sorry to all the friends, all the rivals back home I had rallied against up until now.”
If the midway point of the Lake Superior Performance Rally was a passage of a Formula 1 race, Futoshi and Kieran’s performance was such that the engineer would be coming on the radio and saying “okay Futoshi, pace is good, this pace is good, extend target plus five.” Except for one problem. The red turbocharged Fiesta of Cameron Steely and Preston Osborn more than four minutes down the road. This car, with an extremely talented pilot who I’d love to see rally in Europe given his pace, was bossing the class. It was approaching 1am in the UK, and in the absence of any further information I was watching the times come in via the Rally America website and discussing progress on Twitter with RSTakeda customer and recent rally debutant Norio ‘The Flying Doctor’ Furuhashi. Stage after stage we watched the gap grow, Steely and Osborn eking out a bigger and bigger lead over Murase and Wright. Then the Fiesta dropped off the results. Furuhashi and I’s tweets kept crossing each other. ‘It looks like Murase might be leading’ I’d tweet, but in the time it had taken me to get the Japanese grammar nailed The Doctor would tweet ‘hmm, seems Murase is leading the class’ (or words to that effect).
Now retirements are nothing to celebrate. Especially with recent UK events still raw in the memory, the first thing you want to know is if the crew are okay. And at club-level rallying, nobody wants to see someone suffer a big wreck. But it was also true that were the car ahead to retire, Futoshi would be the prime recipient. “Because of the difference in potential between his car and mine, I thought it would have to be close to a miracle for me to win,” admits the RSTakeda driver. “But at the same time, if I wasn’t able to get myself up into second position then I wouldn’t be able to take advantage of anything that happened up ahead anyhow.”
For someone thousands of miles away without any knowledge of what was going on, it was turning into a pretty tense denouement for Futoshi Murase’s great American rally adventure. He was running first ‘on the road’ going into the last few stages, but the Fiesta remained ominously at the bottom of the timesheets, its times frozen somewhere around SS13 and seemingly ready to pounce back to the top of the charts as soon as the checksheets had been rectified. The Doctor and I tweeted to each other about the various possibilities and permutations.
A lot was riding on this. As I mentioned above, there was a great deal of hope and expectation back in Japan that Futoshi could make one last big push with a good car under him to get a 2WD win in the Rally America series. Nearly 2am in the UK meant that people in Japan were waking up and logging onto social media, going on Facebook to see if there was any news from Michigan, checking Twitter, hitting the refresh button on folk’s blogs. The Japanese rally community is, I’ve discovered, very close-knit – and especially if you go overseas people really root for you. It was looking increasingly likely that this would be the last time Futoshi rallied in the United States. Next year will likely see a return to Japan and domestic rallying at some point down the line. When exactly and in what kind of machine, who knows? Going back to Japan as a winner in America would have a big effect on mindset and confidence, and also – much more pragmatically – attracting the interest of potential sponsors and supporters. All of this hanging on the last two stages of the last rally of the year. Heavy stuff.
And then just like that the Fiesta’s spurious-looking time entry at the bottom of the results turned into a DNF (crew thankfully okay after a big crash), Murase was able to run his final stage in the USA as outright two-wheel drive leader, and all hell broke loose as the Hinomaru got unfurled for the podium ceremony. After three seasons, two cars and thousands of kilometres travelled, Futoshi Murase’s goal of becoming a winner in American rallying had materialised with less than ten kilometres of rallying left. Scenes. Scenes, indeed.