My dubut as a rally driver by Clare Bowen 

As I revved the engine and watched the marshal countdown the seconds I began to wonder what on earth I was doing here.

It seemed light years away when, in a brief moment of insanity, I took the editor's challenge and agreed to drive a rally car. Up until then I had been quite contented to sit in the passenger seat and navigate a driver through the stages and into time controls.

At least I was sitting on the right side of the car but this time the wheel was in front of me. Not only was I making my rally driving debut in a left-hand drive vehicle but it was also in the midst of the mother-of-all-storms to hit Wales.

But as those seconds ticked away I knew this was at the point of no return for me, my poor brave co-driver and Ford's pretty little Ka.

After what seemed an eternity the drenched marshal finally arrived at the word "Go" and we were off in a hail of stones.

I can't say we exactly sprinted off the line but it was a bit more rapid than a Saturday morning trip to the supermarket.

Slip, sliding away down the first 10 mile forest stage one thought was uppermost in my mind -"don't blow it now" - and I was relieved to reach the end of the stage intact. One down - eight to go and one of them over 13 miles long.

Ahead lay over 70 miles of spine jolting forest tracks plus almost 150 road miles. This was the Bulldog Rally - the final round of the British National Rally Championship.

Throughout my journalistic career I was never one to say ‘no’ to a challenge and my love of rallying began with a ride in a powerful Opel Manta driven by a former world champion. I was hooked.

Many more rides with top drivers followed and I attended a rally navigation class so I could understand what the local crews were telling me when I was interviewing them. That led to me participating in a  number of events as a rally navigator.

But most people choose a simple event for their first stint as a rally driver. Usually they tackle a single venue rally which is based on one site with piles of used tyres marking the way and offering protection. And if they're lucky the sun will shine and there may be just a bit of bother from dust.

But this easy route was not for me. I was in at the deep end -  quite literally in a few instances - as we pushed forever forward through the Welsh floods.

And was I glad to have an experienced navigator to guide me and calm me down?  My co-driver had years of experience in a far swifter car and was more used to being a mid-field runner. This time the course closing car was only two cars behind us and she had to do a quick rethink on the speed of pace note delivery.

I knew I had to concentrate and hang on to my her every word. This was easier than I thought as she called out the notes describing the degree of bends and curves in a clear and concise manner.

At least as a co-driver myself I knew what to expect. Numbers described the degree of bend with seven being the sharpest. But the last time I'd used notes like these they were the other way round and seven meant flat out.  Towards the end of the rally I was becoming tired and confused but luckily didn't mix up my curves.

But I did manage a spin on a downhill sector towards a right hairpin. A moment of panic heard me shouting: "What do I do?" My co-driver had no hesitation in telling me and a swift reversing manoeuvre plus a quick tug on the handbrake saw us on our way again.

As we made our way through the classic Welsh forest stages I began to relax a little and my confidence improved slightly. But to the few drenched spectators, who hung on to cheer the back markers and were looking for the excitement of a rally car in motion, we must have appeared to have been on a Sunday afternoon outing.

Except for a 20 minute gap the windscreen wipers were in use all day as we slithered through the muddy, rutted, water logged stages. And the weather conditions caused the final stage in Shrewsbury to be cancelled as the River Severn burst its banks and flooded the stage.

It was the penultimate stage  which almost defeated me. The first mile or so was like driving on ice without studded tyres. There was no grip and the car slid all over the place.

But as we passed the red board heralding the end of the stage there was an almighty screech from the driver and co-driver in Ka number 98. We'd made it against the odds.

Despite the conditions only 31 out of the 114 starters failed to reach the end of this soggy rally.

Apart from the spin, and a minor mechanical problem directly attributed to the weather, we returned the Ka without a mark on it.

And I wasn't the slowest on all the stages which was slightly reassuring and gave me some solace. Without a shadow of doubt this had been the craziest and most exhilarating challenge  which had been thrown at me and I loved it - a day to remember indeed.

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