It was a series of circumstances almost too weird to believe.
There we were, cocooned in a motorised Japanese shoe-box. Stones from the loose-gravel surface pinging the insides of the guards like an automotive ‘popping candy’, the rear kicking out every once in a while to break the tension.
And holding us up was a Bowler Tomcat — a British off-road juggernaut with the face of a Land Rover Defender, a snarling Rover V8 heart, and approximately 50 times more credibility in this harsh environment.
“That’s Gumboot,” they’d say. Probably.
Eminently quotable, thoroughly addictive, Gumboot Rally is into its fifth year — a motoring scavenger hunt anchored around driving some of the most satisfying and obscure ribbons of bitumen New Zealand has to offer.
It started five years ago between a few mates. There are two of these weekends a year. There were 23 cars at the first event, and five years on that figure has swelled to more than 70.
And as you’d imagine it’s a bloody eclectic group of machines. From a Ghostbusters-themed Lada and an old Kingswood, to a swathe of German hot hatches and a Toyota Yaris that was clearly just a rental car with stickers.
Then there’s what we drove. I was invited to partake by Sam Thomson; a friend through the traps of motorsport who owns what we in the business call ‘a little gem’. It’s a 1995 Suzuki Cappuccino; a rear-wheel drive 660cc turbocharged three-cylinder ‘Kei car’.
The Cappuccino was a product of Japan’s bubble-car boom of the mid-‘80s and early ‘90s, when the industry was floating on a cloud of success and producing all sorts of stupidly over-engineered performance and luxury car passion projects.
Sam had handed me the keys before, but there’s a big difference between tootling around the city and tackling a huge cross-country hoon.
And, they’re off
The roads of Gumboot change with every event. This time around things began at the Classics Museum in Hamilton. Drivers would travel south through a multi-choice route to New Plymouth to end the day, before driving back to Taupo on Sunday for the flying finish.
And, before someone scribes a clench-fisted letter about ‘terrorizing the streets’, know that Gumboot isn’t a ‘race’. There is no stop-watch, no chequered flag, and stern words for anyone who dares to take the piss out of the speed limit.
The winner would be the combination who completed the scavenger hunt best, with prizes also going to those with the best theme and the best (or worst) tales of rallying woe. How much emphasis participants put on actually ‘winning’, was up to them.
The Cappuccino quickly established itself as somehow both the best and the worst car for spirited long-distance jaunts.
On the plus side it’s one of the most involving driver’s experiences money can buy; a mixture of the original Mini’s charm and proportion, and the bona fide handling chops of a Mazda MX-5.
On the downside, it’s cramped. Seven millimetres narrower than an original Mini, with two less seats, less storage compartments (especially with the roof down), and a profile that makes jumping into it resemble shoving a stick of butter through a keyhole.
Saturday’s route strayed rather wildly from the typical State Highway 39 norm. Instead we travelled via a labyrinth of twisty roads through Owhiro, and Taharoa.
It was here that we got acquainted with the Bowler on dusty gravel. A quick car swap followed, the Cappuccino getting temporarily traded for an Imola Yellow first-generation Audi S3 (car owner Duncan wanting to experience the Suzuki first hand).
Tuned to 225kW and with guts pressed to the ground, the Audi was one of the most popular cars on tour — the blow-off valve sounding like Potter summoning a Patronus with every throttle lift-off.
“It’s nice, but it’s no Cappuccino,” I said. By the lunch stop in Piopio, we were back in the Suzuki.
Forgotten
Sunday’s journey was shorter on paper, but included the jewel in the Gumboot crown — State Highway 43.
This is better known as the Forgotten Highway; a 150km stretch of road that starts innocently enough in the sleepy town of Stratford before quickly morphing into what’s probably the greatest piece of road in the entire country.
Etched into some incredibly picturesque landscape, SH43 serves up a diet of cambered road profile, blind crests, tight hairpins, and a complete absence of urbanized civilization. No Starbucks, no McDonalds’, and no service stations until the very end.
That last bit was a slight worry for the Suzuki, given its piddly 25-litre fuel tank and the expectation of right-foot abuse. Sam assured we’d be fine, though there was comfort knowing that Duncan’s Audi packed extra petrol in case we came a cropper.
The first phase of running saw Sam at the controls following one of the organizers — ‘Mikey’ — and his KP60 Toyota Starlet. It might’ve looked ‘rustic’, but Mikey knew the roads, and we needed to use all of the Cappuccino’s 9,000rpm to maintain chase.
The beauty to New Zealand’s best roads of course is that many of them allow drivers to experience their car’s capabilities safely.
After a laughter-filled ride tracking Mikey, we pulled off and joined a pair of Mazdas; a maligned but underrated MX-6 and an NC MX-5 that appeared to be fueled by vape judging by the plumes of sugar-scented vapour leaking into our car during the chase.
Apart from some rampant rear type-rubbing on day one, the Cappuccino was a faultless companion; out-cornering all sorts of far more powerful cars — cocking a wheel or two on the way — as the rally drew to a close.
We scored dismally in the scavenger hunt, but ultimately the spirit of Gumboot is one of camaraderie and passion for this four-wheeled shared interest of ours.
Little wonder that so many participants return for more; a stat that I’ll gladly be part of.
To learn more about the Gumboot Rally visit gumbootrally.com or visit them on Facebook.
