6 or 7 seconds, then they’re gone.  On a typical special stage, that’s all the time you get to see a rally car pass in front of you.  A few fleeting seconds, for which you have walked a mile or two, cut yourself on a barbed wire fence, trudged through a cowdung-spattered field and wedged yourself in a thorny ditch.  All of which is quickly forgotten, when the vague murmour of a rally car in the distance slowly increases in volume and intensity until the gear changes, acceleration and braking can all be picked out.  A marshals whistle gets heads turning as excitement builds, unburned fuel ignites in the exhaust on the downchanges and the car squirms, squats and squirrels through the junction before setting off again with the engine growl echoing off dry stone walls.  Images from the special stages, taken by fatigued, frozen fingers in order to evoke memories of classic stages, machinery and drivers