Targa Tasmania: Tarraleah Stage, Friday the 1st of May, 2015

Tasmania's getting famous for all the right reasons!  Our food's great, the wine, beer and cider industries are going great guns, the scenery's spectacular and MONA has set the arts scene on fire.  

And we've got Targa!  In fact, we invented it (well, if you ignore the classic Italian road race - the Targa Florio - for which it's named, that is).  The Tasmanian version has since spawned Targas in Victoria (Targa High Country), Adelaide and Western Australia.  

As you' expect, UMPH is a big Targa fan.  For the last 23 years, he's been getting up at the crack of dawn and dragging some sleep-deprived but equally fanatical Targa-lovin' mates to freeze their collective arses off whilst scoffing eggs 'n' bacon and perving on the passing automotive parade.

This year's co-conspirators were Kenny Woodheap and his son, Woodie, pictured below skulking in his hoodie.  He's the one on the right, scarfing down an egg and bacon pie, waiting for the action to begin.  And the action did begin, eventually ...             

The tranquility!

Well, it sort of began.  If you like Porches.  UMPH does; so do Mr Woodheap and his son, but not in plague proportions.  A rough estimate was thirty of them, one after the other, some driven competently and some, well ... let's just say that UMPH hopes some of them make better dentists than they do tarmac rally drivers.

The endless succession of Germanic auto-exotica (not to be confused auto-erotica!) was only interrupted when a very sexy looking Ferrari broke up the set.  Then the cars UMPH and his mates had come to see began.  

Well, they sort of began.  Many years of Targa watching have demonstrated to UMPH that there's no correlation between the price, desirability, prestige, or lairiness of a car's paint job and its driver's ability to actually drive the thing.  Big money may compensate for some short-comings, but a huge budget won't help you if you couldn't drive a greasy stick up an elephant's bum in the first place!  

The position of this photo is not meant to imply that the driver of this fabulous looking 240Z is part of the greasy elephant's bum brigade.  For the record, s/he wasn't.

The problem was that many of the competitors came howling around the right-hander shown in the photos above and below and then seemed to lose interest, backing right off and then ambling up the hill to the timing point.  UMPH theorises that they may have been in one of the average-speed classes - Sports Trophy and Thoroughbred Trophy - and that they might have been in danger of being too fast.  Too fast?  It's Targa, for XXXX-sake!  Okay, that is a little harsh but it's still a kill-joy for spectators. 

Absolutely beautiful!  Cars like this Escort Mexico float UMPH's boat.  (This driver's not in the GEBB, either!)

Fortunately, the open competition cars soon came on the scene.  Some stalwarts of the local racing scene - plus a large group of competitors from around the country, professionals and talented amateurs amongst them - delighted UMPH and his mates with some very spectacular driving.  Many drove slow cars fast; others drove fast cars even faster.

The navigator's clearly having too much fun to fix the head gasket on UMPH's X1/9!

This is what Targa should be all about.  Phil Blake's excellent Fiat 850 Abarth replica.

More classics, please!

Bloody Volvo drivers!  UMPH wouldn't have minded being behind the wheel, though.

A V8.  An import, perhaps?

Once upon a time, there would be half a dozen MGs in the field.

He thought he could.  And he did!  Power to classics!!

A Mitsubishi that wasn't an Evo.

It'd take goolies to throw this thing around the way its driver was.

Love it!

Sadly, one of only a handful of early Holdens.

These blokes get it.

UMPH would rather a dozen cars like this than a single GTR, Evo or STi!

It's Italian and it's still going!

So's this!  What are the odds?

Eric?

Great racing!  An FX overtakes a 240Z.  Fine sports-personship, too.

Seriously, cars like this are Targa!

Who wouldn't love this, even if it is Italian?

The ultimate Aussie muscle!

Mid-engined, like an X1/9.  But German, so nothing like it.

Lairy paint and driven like it had been stolen.  Go, Japan!

UMPH does love his Mitsubishis.

This big Jag had a presence.

Mmm.  A ute.  

UMPH was chuffed to hear this bloke took out his class.

UMPH thinks this bloke did, too.

All in all, a great day out!  Thanks to the Woodheap boys for their company.

UMPH.

PS: If you enjoyed this post, please visit http://uppermiddlepetrolhead.blogspot.com.au for more classic cars, route suggestions and Tasmanian dining experiences.