Team Saluki History - 2004 Back | History Index | Forward

2004 UAE Desert Challenge - 10-15th October

The UAE Desert Challenge is the final round in the FIA World Cup Cross Country Rally series drawing in the best teams from around the world, as well as local competition. Team Saluki put on a very impressive display, finishing 7th place overall, out of 50 starters, 4th place in the T2-1 Class, and also finished as the Number One Middle East Team! As if this wasn't enough, the team's efforts were rewarded with the Spirit of the Rally Award.

Tim Ansell put together the following write up of the UAE Desert challenge, it's long, but well worth it!

Don't forget to check out the Media Gallery for the new Photos:
2004 UAE Desert Challenge Picture Gallery
Scroll down to the end of this story (take the time to read it along the way!) to see the final results table of the 2004 UAE Desert Challenge.

Day 1: Welcome to the jungle.

“ONE MINUTE” Well here we are then, sitting on the start line of Special Stage 1 of the 2004 Desert Challenge in our trusty Land Rover, whilst ahead of us, numerous world champions from the world of rallying are already screaming through the desert in their $ 500,000 titanium & Kevlar space shuttles. Probably best if I don’t mention to Mark that I’m a nervous wreck, that the sweat pouring down over my sunglasses has nothing to do with the fact that it’s nearly 50ºC inside this car and I’m roasting in my race overalls, or that I didn’t sleep too well last night.

“THIRTY SECONDS” Not a good time to be worrying about my total lack of experience (just 5 local races in the last 10 months and a 3 hour practice session two weeks ago which was cut short when we dropped the car on its nose and punctured the radiator!) or to mention that the special GPS supplied for the race is much harder to read than our usual unit.

“TWENTY SECONDS” Get a grip Tim, you’re on page one and there’s only 28 more pages, 64 waypoints, 140 tulip diagrams and 351 kilometres of forbidding desert between you and today’s finish line. Then there’s only four more days of the same to worry about. Piece of cake. Damn. I wish I hadn’t thought of food. My stomach turns over again.

“TEN SECONDS” Oh my God this is for real, we’ve got people who’ve flown in from Europe to support us, half a dozen sponsors, a new engine, new suspension, a fully equipped service van, radio stations talking to us every evening for the duration of the race days, “FIVE”. Okay, Okay, what’s the rush Mr. Starter, “FOUR” can’t you see I’m nervous “THREE”, Can’t breathe, “TWO” Gulp “ONE” Still Can’t breathe “GO” “Straight on gatch track for seven hundred fifty metres, rough in 200 for 150 metres, at 750 sweeping right-then left onto parallel track, in 300, 200 –there-, 100 right….left, in 770 metres climbing into dunes for 3kms, follow those tracks but stay right on the firmer ground, turning left after crest in 200, 100…………..”

And four hours later we were crossing the finish line, having not experienced a single mechanical problem, without getting lost, having overtaken a lot of cars on the stage and having passed quite a few more which were already broken at the side of the road. I climbed out of the car that afternoon and told our service team and support crew that “It went well”, then collapsed into the nearest chair.

So it was that we completed Day 1 of the 2004 Desert Challenge, almost a year after Mark Powell had asked me if I would like to work with him as co-driver in The Saluki for the 2004 U.A.E. National Championship. “There’s no guarantee that you’ll be navigating for the Challenge” he’d said then, but after 5 of the 6 local rounds, he told me that I’d proved capable enough and that I’d be in the hot seat for the big race. Little did I realise how hot it would be..

The moment the local series stopped for the summer break in May, the engine was whisked out of the car and sent back to Lund Engines in the UK for a major rebuild. It was obvious last year that the works teams of Nissan and Mitsubishi could out run us by a good 50 or 60kph on the long sand tracks, where we could “only” pull 150kph, so more power was essential. We also replaced the suspension with an HT system custom designed for us by Matzker in Germany, against whose Defender 90 we had raced in the 2002 and 2003 Challenge. Then there were new tyres (Michelin XS) new radius arms (QT), new service van, new this, new that. And before we knew it, September was upon us, the Saluki bank account was empty, and the race was only 6 weeks away.

With Land Rover on board this year as our major sponsor, we not only had to do well, but we had to make sure that a lot of people KNEW how well we were doing. Of course there are two sides to the “courting publicity” coin; do well, and thousands of people will be congratulating you, screw up, and the whole world knows it within the hour. Then there was the added pressure that I was putting myself under, knowing that in 2002, Mark and Paul Richards who was then navigating for him, had finished 5th overall in the same race. It had been a fantastic result, and one that I had set myself as a personal goal to match.

This thought was still going through my mind as I sat that night, quietly going through the road book for day 2, and my anxiety wasn’t helped by our results for day 1. At 5.30pm we’d read that we were provisionally ranked 10th, but by 7.30pm, time penalties had been applied to two other teams and now we were 8th , out of 50 starters !! Talk about learning to swim at the deep end – I’d rather hoped we’d make a gradual climb through the field over 4 days, not go screaming up to the front on day 1 yelling “look at us we’re Team Saluki and our navigator’s a novice!!”

After nearly two hours of making notes, highlighting waypoints and PCs, altering the tulip diagrams to take into account the organisers’ amendments etc., I finally climbed turned in for the night and tried to sleep. Fat chance.

Day 2: The heat is on...

Trust me, with a Rover V8 being test run 20 feet from my head until 4am, and with sunrise at 5.30, sleep was in fairly short supply that night. Never mind, Chef Alen Thong, team supporter and master chef, had kindly joined us for the duration of the race and my bacon and sausage sandwiches set me up for the morning. An hour later and we were strapped in the car and ready to go...and another hour later we were sat by the car, still waiting for the fog to clear. Waiting does wonders for the nerves I can tell you.

Finally nearly two hours late, we set off on day 2, and for the next three and a half hours, things went well. We had an exciting 15 or 20 minutes early in the day when we were dicing in the dunes with a French registered Pajero and the German 2wd buggy. There was precious little entente cordiale out on the stage and our on board camera captured the moment when Mark and the German driver decided to head for the same point on the same crest at the same time – we missed by inches and the fight raged on for a few more minutes until their superior speed on the occasional flat sections began to tell and they drew away. It was great close quarter racing – the sort of thing you’d expect on a small circuit and not in the vast spaces of the desert.

Revenge was sweet though when we passed them both half an hour later, along with one of the leading cars, all in the space of 5 seconds. Mark’s ability to drive so effectively in the dunes made a mockery of the leading professionals when we came across our adversaries and what must have been Saby’s Volkswagen, stuck in a big bowl at the top of a dune. When we saw they were all stopped we were forced to pull up, but we just checked the lie of the land and simply drove straight past them. I can only imagine what they were thinking as we tackled the bowl so easily (and I’ll bet it wasn’t polite). Local knowledge and sand driving skills are a wonderful thing.

After nearly 4 hours in the car, the temperature was climbing close to 50ºC and becoming unbearable, and with about 50kms to go to the end of the stage I began to feel queasy. I didn’t mention it to Mark and I knew I simply had to drink more from my water carrier, but by now it had been warming in the car for over 6 hours and every time I took a sip, the taste of “plastic water” was making me feel quite nauseous. I was determined to hang on to the end of the stage, but nausea became all I could think about, and it was beginning to affect my navigating. Suddenly my bacon breakfast came back to haunt me and I knew I was going to be sick. I yelled to Mark “stop the car, stop the car” but when he asked why, I was already gagging and he saw me and stopped pretty quickly!! I managed to lean out of the car and avoid giving our service crew an extra cleaning job that evening, but after hanging out of the door for two minutes I got a terse “If you’ve finished I’d like to get going” over the intercom. Note for co-drivers – don’t expect any sympathy from your driver. Ever.

Off we went and I felt 10 times better – but just as we were thinking about the last 10kms of the stage, suddenly Mark told me ‘we’ve lost the alternator’. Sure enough the dashboard warning light was illuminated and we both immediately thought the same thing – our colleagues Dave and Bryan who race another Land Rover and who were sharing the Team Saluki bivouac, had been forced to pull out of yesterday’s stage early due to alternator problems. Surely we weren’t going to be stopped just 10kms from the end? In seconds we’d switched off the headlights (we always drive with them on) and one of the two cooling fans, to help preserve the battery. Mark then told me that he had no power steering either, and we assumed that we’d lost the drive belts to both systems. As Mark battled with the steering, I put on my best “I know what I’m talking about” voice and calmly informed him that Dave had covered nearly 100kms without an alternator yesterday. I just hoped it was true….I mean, there’s no point panicking your driver, now is there? Finally, after what seemed like an hour but was really only 6 or 7 minutes, we came over the last crest before the finish line at the bivouac. As we rolled to a stop, there was a very audible sigh of relief in the cab and we knew we’d had a ‘good’ day 2.

That night as always, our service crew of Streaky, Ard, Alex and Steve knuckled down to work and quickly found the alternator / steering problem. Two bolts securing the alternator had been shaken loose so it was rattling around and this caused the belts to fly off. Checking those bolts thus became item number 127 on our daily checklist of “things we do to ensure we finish the race tomorrow”. I had also decided that fried breakfasts were now DEFINITELY out of the question, and a plan was hatched to add slices of lemon to the drinking water to take away the taste of plastic. Sounds a bit limp wristed? Who cares? It worked and I never felt sick again.

Of course having achieved the giddy heights of 8th yesterday, we were nervous about dropping back down the field after day 2 and the disappointment that that might cause the team. However we needn’t have worried - Colin McRae kindly decided he couldn’t stand the heat in the kitchen and with his retirement from the race, Team Saluki moved up to 7th. Fantastic! That night we showed the in car video on the plasma screen Tracie had blagged from Sony and although we didn’t have the sound on, there were plenty of cheers and yells when we passed the Volkswagen in the dunes. Saluki fans are easily pleased.

Day 3: Absaluki fabulous...

Five hours sleep that night set me up for day three, and after a carefully planned breakfast of cereal and dates, I felt pretty good heading of for the start on Wednesday. With 2 stages under my belt, I felt a lot more comfortable and was beginning to relax a little. Again the start was delayed due to fog and I feared that due to the delay, the mid-day heat would become a factor, but I needn’t have worried. In fact the stage could not have gone better for us – there were plenty of technical dunes which really suited us, and although at one point we were passed on a firm track by world champion Stephan Peterhansel, who made us look like we were standing still, we consoled ourselves with the fact that we were in fact doing 170kph at the time. When I told Mark “I wish we had the power to drive at those speeds on sand” his immediate reply was “Yes, and I wish I had the balls to drive at those speeds on sand”. A fair point I thought, and I got on with my navigating.

We screamed past our service crew at PC3 and gave them a blast of the air horns and a quick “thumbs up”. It’s not much reward for the 21 hour days they put in but I know they’d rather we drove right past them than smoked the tyres to a halt and told them to replace the clutch…..Two hours later, after nearly 5 hours racing, we pulled up at the finish line and shared a joke with the time keepers as they checked our GPS to see if we missed any way-points. Once again we had a “perfect score” of 96 waypoints and 5 PCs, so with no time penalties to worry about, we headed back to the camp.

That night the in car video was played again, only by now word had spread around the bivouac and at one point we must have had over 60 people watching the screen. Personally I was more worried about Day 4’s road book, but the video had become an enormous attraction and we had technicians from all the works teams coming over to see how we’d overtaken their super-star drivers. Again the laughs and cheers drowned out the sound track, and the Team Saluki cinema became THE place to be seen. Everyone’s mood was lifted even further when we learned that we’d now climbed to sixth place, and for those that weren’t working on the car or racing the next day, the liquid refreshments were tasting sweet.

Originally the Challenge was to have been a 5 day event, with difficult dunes on Day 4 and faster, flat track sections on Day 5. When the holy month of Ramadan was called to start on the Friday (Day 5), the organisers were forced to decide that in fact Day 4 would be the last day’s racing and Day 5 would be a simple road liaison stage. Although no-one dare say so, we all knew at Team Saluki that this would be to our benefit, since we could make good progress in the dunes and not suffer from our lack of flat out speed. So it was that on Day 4, Mark and I were in good spirits on the start line, and looking forward to what we had been warned would be the ‘most difficult dunes you’ve faced yet’.

Day 4: To hell and back

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1 GO” said the starter and we were off. “Straight for 400, rough after 200 for a hundred metres” I said to Mark. No acknowledgement. “Straight for 350’ - “CAN’T HEAR YOU” “Straight for 300” “SPEAK TO ME TIM” screamed Mark and I suddenly realised we had no intercom. Oh great, 5 seconds into day 4 and we’ve lost comms!!! I tried to reach round to my left, to the connection between my helmet and the intercom box, then realised that we soon had to make a right / left dog-leg turn off our current track. I frantically signalled the maneuvre with my left hand while shouting at the top of my voice to Mark, then turned back to the cables. I reached for the volume control in the centre of the roof panel between us but I knew it was turned up – we’d been speaking pefectly clearly before the start, so it had to be a loose connection. “WHERE NOW” yelled Mark and I looked out the windscreen, saw the dunes coming up fast and waved the road-book in my right hand in a signal that I hoped he knew meant “to the top of the dunes then left”.

“Oh God let it be my cable not Mark’s” I was thinking because once in the dunes I knew Mark could not take his hands off the wheel to fiddle with the intercom cables, and I couldn’t reach his without totally ignoring the road book. I unplugged my jack plug from the connector with my left hand and plugged it back in as quickly as I could. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?” I shouted as I shook the lead violently “YES” came the reply I was so desperate to hear, and I twisted straight back in the seat just as we dropped over the first steep crest. Not the sort of thing you need to start your morning.……

We were very quickly into more difficult terrain and after an hour or so we were heading fast down to a salt flat plain when Mark suddenly said “it’s no good, I’ve got to pee, I’m stopping the car’. Now the previous day I had been bursting to go to the loo for the last two hours of the race, but mindful of the delay I’d caused on day 2 by throwing up, I’d kept my legs crossed and refused to let Mark stop the car for me. I was therefore a little surprised to have Mark pull over so early in the race, and I started to poke fun at him, but when he clambered back into the car I realised that while we’d been stopped, we’d not seen or heard any other vehicles. There was certainly no sign of any cars behind us and when we set off again, it occurred to both of us that maybe our closest competitors were stuck in the dunes. For the first time in the whole race we had some light hearted chatter in the cock-pit and after another 30 minutes, we passed first one, then another competitor, broken down at the side of the track. Things were going well. Perhaps too well? I’m sure we were both mentally calculating our race position – were we 5th?, were we 4th ?, were we still 6th? when the toughest of the dunes began.

Once again we didn’t really have any great difficulty in working our way through them, but the sand was very soft in places and for the first time in 4 days we were forced to use the diff-lock. After 30 or 40 minutes of this, Mark began to have difficulties in dis-engaging the diff lock and once or twice I had to reach down and hold the lever in position to ensure it “locked out”. And so it was that almost halfway through the last day, disaster struck us. Suddenly there was an almighty BANG from below the floor and it was obvious that something in the transmission had started to fail. We struggled on for a dozen more kilometres but Mark was fighting with the car and I was desperately looking to see how many more dunes we had left to cross. Finally the transfer box decided to let go “in a big way” and we were left high and dry with no drive to the wheels.

STUCK DAMN IT!! Halfway through the last day’s racing. The highest placed non works team. 6th place and climbing. Two dozen people in the middle of the desert, busting their guts to get us through this race, and we were going nowhere with no transmission. I felt physically sick, only this time it wasn’t the heat.

Mark was battling with the gearbox and diff lock desperately trying to find some drive to the wheels, while I was trying to work out what the hell we could do from our position. “Not much” was the first answer that came to mind – we were 110kms from home. Finally Mark engaged drive, but it was only to the front wheels – and we had a long way to go and a lot of sand to cross. “Get out and dig” was the only course of action left to us as we were now stuck in a bowl, but as we did so we heard a car climbing the dunes, and a Volkswagen came hurtling past us. I cannot begin to describe how it feels to watch a ‘healthy’ car drive past you when you are stuck in the desert and losing places in the race. It’s a spiteful, stomach wrenching feeling.

I climbed a dune and called our position through to Paul Richards the team manager, to let him know what was happening. I was imagining the disappointment on our crews faces when they heard the news and it didn’t make me feel any better. We dug frantically and put the sand ladders in place under the front wheels, but our first attempt to drive out was to no avail. “Don’t worry” I told Mark, “Dave’ll be here soon” as I tried to convince us both that Dave and Bryan would be arriving over the horizon like the cavalry. And for once it seems that someone had read the same script, because right on cue, what should come into view but their orange and blue Defender. I have never been so relieved to see a fellow competitor in a race. With their help we pushed the Saluki onto the ladders and once it got a grip on the metal plates, Mark drove it out of the bowl.

From that moment, Dave and Bryan stayed close behind us in support, as their own chances of a strong finish had been thwarted by successive electrical problems on days 1 and 2, and they generously agreed to escort us to the finish. Mark drove brilliantly to keep the car going first through PC4 (where we caught our support team by surprise, busy letting down their tyres to come and rescue us) and then I was counting down the distance to PC5, 95 kms after we first ground to a halt. Every now and then we’d hear a “bang” from the transmission and the vehicle would momentarily lurch, and although after passing PC5 there were just 30 kms between us and the end of the Desert Challenge, with a big range of dunes to cross we knew we would be struggling in 2 wheel drive. Sure enough, the sand won it’s match with Team Saluki.

Unable to cope with the nearly 300bhp being sent through only the front wheels, a front half shaft sheared as we started to ascend the last few dunes and the Saluki finally ground to a halt. We both knew our race was over, and we waved Dave and Bryan on, grateful for their earlier support. Mark was philosophical about the whole situation, with only a moment’s anger as the car finally stopped, then calm resignation to the fact that we could do nothing about it. I, on the other hand, can best describe my mood as “bitter and twisted”. I couldn’t believe that after a year’s build up and the efforts of dozens of people, our race had ended so close to the finish line. I was devastated, and when after a few minutes two competitors drove past us, all I could think about was how we were going to have to sit and watch car after car climb past us as we dropped further and further out of the final standings. But it didn’t happen.

There was just more of the uncanny silence we’d experienced three hours earlier. Nothing. No more cars, nothing. Finally after perhaps another 15 minutes, the two enormous Kamaz trucks thundered past us and we waved them by – and started asking ourselves what had happened to the 20 or so competitors who started the race between us and the trucks? Surely somebody had to come past us soon? Where on earth were they? The arrival of our service crew, whom we’d called to tow us home, broke our train of thought, and for the next two hours or so we battled to drag the now lifeless Saluki back to the camp.

We had to make some steep climbs to get there and although Streaky’s Defender 130 is fitted with an engine almost as powerful as the racer’s, it was struggling to pull 4.5 tonnes of metal uphill through sand. In the end we had to hitch two tow cars together to give us enough power, and with Ian’s Patrol being snatched forwards by Streaky and held back by the Saluki, we bounced, lurched and fought our way toward the finish line. I had offered to take the wheel of the racer during the recovery, since by doing so I could keep my mind occupied and I felt like I could at least “finish” the race, albeit at the end of a tow rope. It was a wild ride at times and I only wish we could have caught it on video, as our three car ‘train’ carved wide sweeping tracks through the desert. Finally, after Streaky’s car broke a front half-shaft of its own with just two kilometres to go, Ian pulled the racer into our service area and I switched off the engine and climbed forlornly out of the cab.

We were of course well over the 5 hours allowed for the stage when I handed over the time card at the finish, and I was feeling so miserable that it didn’t even occurr to me to ask for the times of our nearest competitors. Had I done so, I would have learned sooner that dozens of the starters that day had failed to finish, or even come close to finishing. No doubt that would have help lift my pessimistic mood as I walked slowly back to the camp, but for the next hour, unaware that in fact we’d passed more waypoints and PCs than all the other non-finishers, I was best avoided.

When I got back to the car, our service crew was already busy replacing the transfer box, since if we didn't complete tomorrow's road section under our own power, we’d be disqualified from the race completely. It would have been nice to have brought the car back in one piece and give the guys a break for a change - they'd already put in 4 days work with just 3 hours sleep each night - but now they had to do it all over again. Not one of them was complaining though, just getting on with the job, and I knew we couldn’t have wished for a better crew.

An hour later I was still wandering around trying to find something inexpensive to kick to work out my frustration, when Bob Morrison walked up to me and said - "you see, I told you it'd be alright, you're seventh". It must have been obvious from the look on my face that I was having trouble believing what he'd told me, because he repeated it "You're seventh mate - only 6 cars finished the stage. Now smile!" I was sure Bob wouldn't be pulling my leg over this - he'd seen the state I was in - but I still had to walk over to the official notice board to read it for myself. And sure enough, it was there in black and white, " 7th No. 216 - Powell / Ansell, Land Rover, 20 hrs 22 mins 01 seconds". Despite incurring a 2 hour time penalty for failing to make the finish line inside 5 hours, our total time for the rally was almost an hour ahead of our nearest competitor; Mark's struggle to get us through the last two PCs had saved us 6 hours in penalties, and we'd consequently only dropped one place from yesterday's 6th position. I wanted to tear the paper off the board and take it with me, but I thought the other competitors might be a bit annoyed if I did, so instead I left it there and walked back to the camp with a silly grin on my face.

We called the team together and told them the result, and the celebrations started immediately. We couldn't get too carried away because we still had to complete the road section the following day, but we all knew that barring any unlikely catastrophes, Team Saluki had proven itself once again in the deserts of the Rub Al Khali. We'd finished ahead of the current world champion Stephan Peterhansel, ahead of Jutta Kleinschmidt and Bruno Saby, ahead of Colin McRae, and we felt great. All the cars ahead of us were either works teams or had professional crews, so we were the highest placed privateer team, something that made us all very proud.

Later that evening at the drivers' briefing we were awarded the day’s "Spirit of the Rally" award for completing half the stage in two-wheel drive, and many of the other competitors were shaking their heads and wondering how we'd done it. To cap it all, the following day we were informed that since both Mark and I race on licenses issued in the United Arab Emirates, we'd also won the coveted "1st in the Gulf" award, as the highest placed Middle East team. In all the excitement over coming 7th overall, we hadn't even thought about that award, and the whole team thoroughly deserved a "1st" trophy in return for all the effort we'd put in.

Our crew and fans turned up en-masse at the ceremonial finish back in Dubai and we must have received the biggest cheer of the afternoon - one of the benefits of racing in your own back-yard is that you bring a big fan club! There were more celebrations that night and, if the truth be known, for several nights afterwards, but within a week, we'd started the process of trying to secure sponsorship deals for next year and planning our 2005 Desert Challenge campaign. After all, we're officially the best in the Gulf, and we've got a reputation to uphold...we have no intention of settling for 7th again!

Story by Tim Ansell

Final Results:
Pos. C:No Name Make Gr Cl Result Diff.
1 202 Hiroshi Masuo ka / Andreas Schulz Mitsubishi T2 1 14:05:57 0 :00:00
2 204 Gregoire De M evius / Jacky Dubois Nissan T2 1 14:19:11 0:13:14
3 203 Khalifa Al Mu taiwei / Alain Guehennec BMW T2 2 14:50:32 0:44:35
4 209 Juha Kankkune n / Juha Repo VW T2 2 15:39:44 1:33:47
5 221 Matthias Kahl e / Dr.T.Schuenemann 2Drive T2 3 17:00:28 2:54:31
6 212 Dominique Hou sieaux / Loic Fagot Mitsubishi T2 1 17:06:55 3:00:58
7 216 Mark Powell / Tim Ansell Land Rover   T2 1 20:22:01 6:16:04
8 248 Laurent Rosso / Christian Rosso Nissan T1 1 21:15:02 7:09:05
9 201 Stephane Peterhansel/Jean-Paul Cottret Mitsubishi T2 1 21:56:19 7:50:22
10 213 Isabelle Pati ssier / Bernard Irissou Nissan T1 1 23:34:29 9:28:32
11 217 Maris Saukans / Didzis Zarins OSC T2 1 24:03:53 9:57:56
12 240 Jean-Claude R eboux / Arnaud Morey Buggy Equi T2 3 24:50:48 10:44:51
13 205 Jutta Kleinsc hmidt / Fabrizia Pons VW T2 2 25:23:26 11:17:29
14 231 Tommaso Caste llazzi Landrover T2 2 26:00:18 11:54:21
15 233 Ronan Chabot / Gilles Pillot Toyota T1 2 27:20:24 13:14:27
16 230 Nizar Al Shanfari / David Mitry Mitsubishi T1 1 27:21:07 13:15:10
17 219 Ahmad Bin Suq at/ Jassim Ben Gharib Chevrolet T2 1 29:09:07 15:03:10
18 223 Sergey Shmako v / Sergey Mishin Honda T2 3 33:17:01 19:11:04
19 237 Jean-Pascal C uerel / Mathieu Kurzen Mitsubishi T1 2 33:25:00 19:19:03
20 246 Herman Hutten / Hennie Wullink Kia T2 1 34:08:31 20:02:34
21 211 Jose Luis Mon terde / Rafal Tornabell Mitsubishi T2 2 34:24:20 20:18:23
22 214 Obaid Bin Hathboor/Abdulhaleem Bin Zayed Chevrolet T2 1 34:33:22 20:27:25
23 222 Michel Visy / Philippe Bourquin Bowler T2 1 35:38:03 21:32:06
24 234 Luc Beckers / Luc De Coker Toyota T2 2 36:29:44 22:23:47
25 228 John Martin / Matt Stevenson Mitsubishi T1 1 36:54:25 22:48:28
26 226 David Mabbs / Bryan Lightford Land Rover T2 1 38:44:18 24:38:21
27 238 Vural Ak / Gu ray Karacar Mitsubishi T2 2 42:34:49 28:28:52
28 227 Igor Skoks / Agris Pikis LV OSC 1 47:45:00 33:39:03
29 208 Bala'zs Szalay / Laszlo Bunkolzi Opel T2 1 47:51:16 33:45:19
30 224 Guan Yuang Me n / Serge Henninot Mitsubishi T2 2 50:45:00 36:39:03
31 241 Jean-Francois Padovani / Patrick Sam Pia Nissan T2 2 51:30:14 37:24:17
32 250 Emil Khneisse r / Akram Malas Prototype T2 1 62:45:00 48:39:03

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