"Stay off the cheese." Instructor Wyatt Knox's voice makes it through my thick helmet, but it's too late for driving tips. I've whipped the old Audi 4000 way too wide into the sweeping corner in front of the barn that houses Team O'Neil's main offices and classroom. The front-heavy Bavarian plows relentlessly, pushing off the packed dirt and tracking into half-foot thick mud. It's all over. Brace for impact.
I'm a few miles north of the middle of nowhere in New Hampshire, at Team O'Neil, a rally school operated by veteran rally driver Tim O'Neil. For learning to drive on the dirt, this is the place to come. The school has more than six-and-a-half miles of bona-fide rally roads lacing through the White Mountains, and they're rough enough to clench the butt cheeks of the most daring driver. Assuming you can get all the way out here, a number of programs are offered, ranging from a five-hour winter safety school to the course I'm enrolled in-a comprehensive four-day rally program.
I've managed to fly in during the rainiest week New Hampshire has ever seen. O'Neil's school stays open all year round, through rain, mud, sleet, snow and ice. This makes sense-when was the last time a rally was cancelled by bad weather? At the onset, plenty of classroom learning gives students a rough idea of what they're supposed to be doing before heading out and sending Tim's front-wheel-drive cars into ditches or landing them into tree cover. By the time we make it outside, it's a beautiful day, which means the team will need an old water truck to make conditions a little less pleasant. Knox hops in and drenches the skidpad and slalom area with enough water to make 'traction' a laughable term.
You may think the front-wheel-drive cars are bound to be less exciting than the all-wheel-drive cars and especially the rear-wheel-drive BMWs. But the most valuable technique of the whole experience is learned in the front-drivers: left foot braking. You've probably heard of it before. Hell, you may even use it. But at O'Neil, left foot braking is the term the whole school revolves around.
O'Neil himself is always likely to bust into the classroom and give 12 reasons why left foot braking is the superior way to drive. But whether or not you choose to implement it, if you're not sold on the idea of swinging around your front-wheel-drive with your left foot, there's something wrong with you. O'Neil says 30 percent of people are unable to get the left foot braking technique down. As a result, he's been criticized for teaching it. But he's sure it's the fastest way around a section, so if he can convert seven out of ten people, he feels he's done a good job.
Another important re-education comes from head instructor Chuck Long. He points out that, contrary to popular belief, there's no such thing as an accident. Nine times out of ten, the problem is too much speed for the given conditions. So, he says: "know the limits of the car, know the limits of the road and know your own limits." Screw up two of the three and you're going to crash. Famous for his no-BS approach to teaching, Long is as likely to rant about drivers who cover their face in an accident and scream: "Jesus, take the wheel" as O'Neil is to talk about left-foot braking. A recent retiree from the US Army, he's quick to point out that there's nothing like the whap of his Maglite on the helmet to help improve your listening skills. You always pay attention when Long is talking.
By day two, we're driving all-wheel-drive cars and the curriculum is ramping up. As is the rain and mud. Car after car slides off the practice slalom into the trees. As you might imagine, rally driving in an all-wheel-drive car is a hell of a lot easier than with a front-driver. Even with twice the mud, these old Audis just seem more planted and speed becomes the main reason for off-course excursions.