In RallyJournal.com’s From fan to co-driver feature, we’ve followed our journalist Eemeli Aho‘s journey from rally spectator to competitor. Vetomies was Aho’s second rally alongside Jarmo Vesterinen, and the legendary stages of the Rally Finland provided many first-time experiences, adding plenty of memories to the “firsts” list.
A fitting amount of excitement
As I wrote in the previous article in this feature, I made an amateur mistake by meticulously tidying my notes on the first note-making day. Luckily, I didn’t make the same mistake on the second night, and with a good night’s sleep, I was ready for the first competition day.
It was an unforgettable feeling to drive to the competition centre at Killeri in the morning, knowing the much-anticipated moment was approaching. The road section to the first stage, Laukaa, went quickly, even though the distance through Vaajakoski was nearly 50 kilometres. During the liaison, we followed the WRC action with some tension, wondering how the Vetomies Rally queue would fare, as the last WRC cars were driving the stage as a road section due to a crash-related stoppage. Fortunately, no one was injured, and soon the Vetomies drivers started launching onto the stage.
During the liaison, Jarmo asked about my level of nervousness. I honestly replied that I wasn’t sure when the nerves were supposed to kick in this time. That was one key difference between my first and second rallies.
Our number was 254, which meant we were the 54th car in the Vetomies lineup. When we arrived at the start of Laukaa, the line of competitors was long, and we knew we’d be waiting a while for our turn.
Despite this, we had to be at the time control at the correct minute, so I took the time card on foot to the time control point. At that moment, it was nice to chat with other driver pairs, and I found a walking companion in Jani Pohto, who was co-driving for Matias Valkonen.
I took the opportunity to ask for advice from a more experienced co-driver. I had heard that the time card had to be delivered to the time control point in full competition gear, meaning helmet on and neck brace in place. However, Jani informed me that this rule no longer applied, so this inexperienced co-driver humbly removed his helmet mid “morning jog.”
When our time came, the nerves I had been waiting for hit me in the pit of my stomach. Luckily, it was just a light, pleasant butterfly sensation, making it enjoyable to wait at the start line for the moment when the car would leap into motion.
The first challenge
I’m from Laukaa, so it felt great to start a stage where I’ve been a spectator many times. I also knew that friends and acquaintances would be watching from several spots along the stage. When it came to reading the notes, I reminded myself not to read too far ahead, which had been my issue in the first rally.
The first stage went well, with only a few small moments of hesitation. These were fleeting moments, lasting mere fractions of a second, likely unnoticed by anyone else. What stood out most from the stage was the section of narrow road that had already been in terrible condition by the time we drove it – this was the section that later caught out Esapekka Lappi on his second run. I was satisfied, and after the stage, Jarmo said the notes had been read perfectly. That felt great. Plus, I remembered the most important thing: raising my hand to wave at friends watching from the Laukaa field corners!
Driving-wise, the challenge was posed by the varying conditions, along with the fact that we were using completely new rear gear ratios, meaning the gears were not what Jarmo had been accustomed to previously.
Watch the video of Vesterinen and Aho’s run on the Laukaa stage below!
Into the roof club
On the road section to the second stage, Saarikas, the sky opened up, pouring down rain. Once again, we had to wait far from the time control point, so I had to walk the time card over again. At that point, I decided that an umbrella would become a staple item for every summer rally.
As I mentioned in the previous article, we introduced the word “runki” (The term used by Finnish rally enthusiasts for going off the road) in our notes for Vetomies to describe a section that surprises us or is commonly considered a potential crash site. Our notes had five such “runki” spots in Saarikas. Soon, we would find out that next year, there would be one more.
The stage started well, but about four kilometres in, I realised I had fallen behind in reading the notes, causing the next few to be delayed. My focus slipped, and I failed to call out an upcoming left turn in time. I think, in the future, I’ll need to follow the notes with my finger more actively to track where we are. Fortunately, I quickly regained my rhythm.
We had also introduced another new note, “K minus,” to describe a corner faster than a slow turn but slower than a gathering turn. About six kilometres in, I read: “Caution, right K, and left K minus junction.”
As we entered the right-hand turn, I realised our speed was far too high. In braking, we drifted slightly off the optimal line, and the mud on that line prevented us from slowing down as much as we had in previous corners. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if we could power through with more throttle and a bigger slide. However, our speed was just too high, and we went off the road.
The car rolled over once and landed on its wheels at the bottom of a ditch. I remember a few moments from the crash, almost like a movie reel. The first image was of the car’s rear already in the ditch, and from the cockpit, I was looking up at the sky. At that point, it was clear that we weren’t just sliding – we were crashing.
I tensed all my muscles, bracing for impact. Yet, all I felt was a soft thud, and the next thing I saw was the scenery flipping upside down. At that moment, I saw Jarmo’s phone fly past my face, landing somewhere on the floor.
Another thud, and the car was back on its wheels. That short moment when we landed in the ditch felt like it lasted an eternity. In the in-car video, you can hear me almost immediately asking Jarmo if he’s okay, but at the time, the moment felt much longer. In those seconds, I surveyed my surroundings, realised the car was still running, and found myself sitting with the notes in my hand, still securely strapped in.
Luckily, the crash wasn’t at high speed, and there were no rocks or trees in our path.
It was clear that there weren’t enough spectators in that spot to help push us back onto the road quickly. It felt strange being in the ditch with no one coming from the nearby spectator area to help push the car. A few people did appear, but we needed more strength. After waiting a bit, I got out of the car and began pushing, calling for more people to help.
After some effort, Jarmo managed to drive the car out of the ditch. Following his instructions, I checked that the wheels were relatively straight before jumping back into the car and strapping myself in.
Watch the video of the Saarikas stage and the “runki” moment:
We waited for the next car and then continued. Reading the notes and the rally itself felt surprisingly normal, despite having just rolled the car. We reached the finish line and laughed about the situation.
“It didn’t take long to join the roof club after you hopped in with Jarmo,” laughed driver Vesterinen.
We lost about six minutes, but luckily the car was in good shape. We were fortunate that the wheels weren’t damaged, and the windshield wasn’t even scratched. Nothing under the hood had taken much damage either.
Jarmo is great at coming up with nicknames, and I had been waiting for what nickname I might receive. Now it was clear: from now on, I’ll be “Runki Eemeli,” and I carry that name with pride.
Luck doesn’t turn – chaos at Myhinpää
Next up was a service stop in Konnevesi. The rain, which had subsided earlier, began again just before we reached Konnevesi. Remote services don’t make sense with a service tent, so our mechanics, Mikko and Petu, hammering the car straight, and Jarmo and I were soaked to the bone.
We continued our journey via the fuel station towards the start of Myhinpää. I was probably still a bit full of adrenaline after our rollover because I noticed on the liaison that I had calculated our arrival time for the next time control incorrectly. I was anxious the whole way, wondering if we were really that tight on time, but just before arriving, I realised I had calculated the time from the ideal start time of the previous stage instead of our actual start time. The difference, due to the waiting, was over fifteen minutes, so I sighed in relief.
The rain subsided, and the first half of Myhinpää went well. I read the notes in a good rhythm, and the driving felt reasonable given the conditions. After passing through Myhinpää village, the rain intensified again, and our bad luck reappeared.
The rain got heavier and heavier, and I continued reading the notes. I heard Jarmo say something to me, but I couldn’t make it out. I kept reading, knowing a tight left corner was coming up soon. I thought he was commenting on the road or the conditions, so I gave him some feedback to focus on the notes.
However, the windshield was fogging up, and Jarmo had asked me to turn on the heater. I hadn’t switched on the defroster in time, and soon we couldn’t see a thing. The situation caused a bit of frustration between us, but thankfully we made it to the finish, although the last few kilometres were driven at almost road speeds.
Back to a good feeling
Next up was Ruuhimäki. During the road section, we continued to get soaked – quite literally, too. A rally car’s ventilation system isn’t 100% waterproof in heavy rain, so I had to be careful not to let my notebook get wet. As we drove, we joked that we had nearly experienced everything, and things could only get better from here. We refuelled the car at the Jari-Pekka station in Hankasalmi, where I grabbed hot coffees from the café to lift our spirits after an unusual day.
That worked, as the next stage, Ruuhimäki, was probably our best stage of the day. The rain had stopped, and the final section of wide road with big jumps was fantastic to drive. The grip was good, and the notes flowed perfectly.
Watch the video of Vesterinen and Aho’s performance on Ruuhimäki:
Before the final stage, Harju, there was a short regroup at Killeri. During that time, I had another “first” when some media representatives from an energy drink company rushed to our slightly battered car and pulled us in for an interview. Apparently, there’s a documentary about the Vetomies Rally coming, and our interview should be included in it.
Then it was time for Harju. During the recce, it felt really tight, so I asked Jarmo if it was especially narrow this year. According to Jarmo, it always feels tight during the recce, but when driving competitively, it’s surprisingly manageable. Harju went well for us, and we ended the day with a spectacular rear-wheel slide in the final corner of the Harju stage.
At the service, the sledgehammer began to sing as the car was hammered back into shape. As I mentioned earlier, we had escaped with only minor damage in the crash, so we headed into Saturday in good spirits considering the circumstances.
In the next part of this feature, we’ll go over Saturday’s events and discuss what it feels like for a co-driver when they realise they’ve lost track of the notes.
Read all published parts of the feature here.
