The Bega Valley Rally is the second oldest rally in Australia and the oldest event in New South Wales. I was to get a quick lesson in rally driving. An unexpected invitation leads to a weekend of racing, adventure and community in the hills of southern New South Wales.
The reason I was so far south is that I had accepted an invitation to look after Ellie, Leroy and their house in the Brogo Valley, just east of Bega. Ellie and Leroy are two great dane dogs, their owner and fellow writer had booked a trip to Europe and asked me if I would like to spend a month at her place looking after it and caring for her two fur babies. They were not really babies, their collective weighing is around one hundred and twenty kilograms. Which is one hundred and twently kilograms of big slobbering dog that is incredibly affectionate and proun to sit on you at any chance they get.
A rally for the whole family
Friday afternoon found me celebrating the completion of a difficult chapter of my travel memoir, with two Great Danes for company and nuzzling into me, while I enjoyed a glass of red wine on the front veranda as the sunset behind me. My phone rang, it was the friendly neighbour, a fifth generation dairy cattle farmer whose access road was part of the ralley circuit, invited me to watch the final stage of the Bega Valley Rally on her dairy farm. I accepted immediately and began a little bit of research on my phone.
Apparently, in one form or another the Bega Valley Rally had been running since 1960, making it the oldest continuously running rally in New South Wales and the second longest running ralley in Australia. Curious about a sport I knew little about, I headed to the Bega Saleyards on Saturday to photograph the cars undergoing scrutineering.
Motor racing passion at its most dedicated
The place was buzzing. Rally cars sat with bonnets raised and wheels removed, mechanics crawled beneath chassis, and families gathered around their machines. Engines roared while a tyre-changing crew worked at remarkable speed, sending discarded rubber flying from the back of a truck. What had once been a livestock market had become a temporary home for a passionate racing community.
Many of the cars brought back memories of my own early adventures, in my day they were just old cars, today they’re called classic and they sit in a category of their own. These familiar shapes had been transformed with roll cages, modified engines, racing seats and specialist tyres. Every detail had a purpose: to help the driver and co-driver tackle unpredictable dirt roads at speed, while surviving the occasional mistake.
I think I’ll stick to motorcycles – much safer
I already had some idea of what rally driving involved. Before leaving for Europe, my host, an experienced driver and co-driver who had mentored other women in the sport, had taken me for a quick drive along the circuit. I gripped the passenger seat as she powered through corners, sliding the car from one controlled drift into another. I was accustomed to throwing my KLR650 motorcycle around dirt tracks, but being a passenger in a car doing rally driving was an entirely different experience.
On Sunday, I joined my neighbours on their farm to watch the final hill climb. The cars thundered past, engines screaming as dirt and rocks sprayed into the air. Watching skilled drivers attack the steep, twisting road, I began to understand the attraction. This wasn’t simply a contest of speed. It demanded trust between driver and navigator, mechanical preparation, concentration and an intimate understanding of changing road conditions.
What a better way to build comraderie
After the racing, competitors gathered for a beer and a barbecue cooked over an old forty-four-gallon drum. The atmosphere was relaxed, friendly and unmistakably communal.
I’d arrived as an outsider, more interested in photographing the event than understanding it. I left appreciating why people return year after year: for the challenge, the machines, the roads and the friendships forged around them.
Adventure motorcyclists aren’t so different. We bring our machines, our stories and our appetite for the road. The racing may be different, but the spirit is familiar.
The adventure is never just about the journey. It’s about the people you meet along the way.
Check out some of my latest adventures through other recent blog posts including my experience with the Sailing the Whitsundays and Finding Eden. For a longer read check out my Australian Adventure Motorcycle Series:
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