t 62, legendary rally driver Walter Röhrl doesn't appear to be slowing down.

Earlier this month in the Spanish town of Lloret de Mar, Röhrl and co-driver Peter
Gobel drove a 1981 Porsche 911 RSR to victory in the FIA European Rally
Championship for Historical Cars.

Röhrl doesn't look like your typical racing legend. At well over six feet and as gangly as
a newborn colt, he bucks the trend of compact physicality that seems to favour people in
this business.

I sat next to Röhrl at a recent Porsche press dinner and discovered that not much about
this reserved Bavarian's extraordinary career in rally and road racing can be described as
typical.

Highlights of his resumé include a 1974 European Rally Championship, two World
Rally Championships (1980, 1982), four Monte Carlo Rally wins with four different
marques, 420 WRC stage wins, a Pikes Peak hill climb record that stood for 10 years,
and numerous road racing victories.

In 2000, the French elected him Rally Driver of the Millennium. Niki Lauda calls him a
"genius on wheels."

At 18, Röhrl was an avid ski racer, and drove to the slopes with a ski buddy who owned
a car. Röhrl would often take the wheel on these snowy passes, and his friend became
increasingly impressed with Röhrl's natural car control. So much so that he convinced
him to enter a rally, supplying him with a rear-drive Ford Capri.

"I'd never raced a car before. It was very snowy and icy and the Capri had no traction.
Yet I was passing Porsche 911s and Renault Alpines, wondering why they were all
driving so slow." If the engine hadn't blown near the end of the race, he would have
won.

His friend sponsored him five times over the next three years, and after each race he
wrote to the local papers stating, "Walter Röhrl is the best race driver in the world and
somebody had better sign him."

Ford did in 1971.

Röhrl's first WRC win came in 1973 at the Acropolis Rally while driving for Opel. On
one particularly greasy tarmac stage, the drivers behind Röhrl consistently saw two long
black strips before each corner and figure he'd gone off.

"I'd throw the car sideways 50 metres before the bend and it was perfect every time,"
Röhrl said with a laugh as his hands worked the imaginary steering wheel that hung in
mid-air above his plate of Portuguese seafood.

Along with his driving acumen, Röhrl had another ace up his sleeve: incredibly good
memory. "After three passes on a stage, I would have every corner memorized. No other
driver could do that."
Of course, Röhrl has had his fair share of incidents. While leading the San Remo Rally
by eight minutes, the transmission started making bad noises.

"I was thinking about where and when we could change the transmission, then missed a
corner. We flew off the road, fell 50 metres, landed on someone's roof and slid off nose
first into the yard. And the people weren't home because they were up watching the
race!"

I asked Röhrl what was the scariest car he'd driven. "The scariest was also the best: the
1983 Lancia 037." This rear-drive, 325 hp mid-engined Group B rally car was
"beautifully precise, but with only a few thin tubes and some plastic in front of you. If
you crashed you were dead."

Indeed, after several driver and spectator deaths in the mid-80s, the infamous Group B,
or "Killer B," rally cars, as they were known, were banned. Horsepower dropped by 50
per cent. "After that, they weren't real race cars."

Röhrl decided to retire from WRC, but not before setting a Pikes Peak hill climb record
in a specially prepped 600+ hp Audi Sport Quattro S1 on July 11, 1987. The record
stood for 10 years, and arguably still stands, as it was broken only after parts of the
route were paved.

Röhrl has been working for Porsche since 1993 as a development/test driver and public
relations figurehead. He puts in about 150 days a year, but he tells us it's time for him to
slow down.

"I've been very lucky in my life." he says, waving his hand and looking gratefully up at
the ceiling. "Forty years in motorsport and everything is still straight. "During his 14-
year world rally career Walter Rohrl won an astonishing 420 rally stages, but these days
he is perhaps better known these days for his circuit driving.

At the old Nürburgring, as a long-time tester, racer and ambassador for Porsche, his lap
times provide the definitive guide to car performance - even now, at the age of 62.

See Walter Rohrl's heroes in pictures

Porsche 911 GT3 RS on video

Who, then, could have inspired such a man, someone whom even Niki Lauda (not
known for his loose praise) calls a genius.

Michael Rohrl

“It started with my brother, Michael,” says Walter. “Ten years older than me, he’d drive
me everywhere. He was my idol; I was in awe of the guy. He had a Porsche 356 coupe
and I was just this kid in the back. He was a very good skier and an outstanding driver,
so that’s what I wanted to be.” Sadly, Michael did not live to see his protege’s success.
“He died in a traffic accident. I was 18 and had just passed my driving test.”

Herbert Marecek
The man who took up Walter’s cause was one Herbert Marecek. “We were skiers and
every weekend we went ski racing and I always drove. And he’d say, ‘You must
become a race driver. I never saw anyone with such a feel for a car.’ He pushed me for
three years, in which I did five events – one in his own car, others in cars he borrowed.
And after every event he’d write to the sports newspapers in Germany saying his friend
was the best driver in the world and someone should give him a contract. After the fifth
event I got a contract with Ford.”

Timo Makinen

“Everyone was afraid of Makinen,” says Rohrl. “He was a rough man – we all knew he
had a whisky bottle in the car with him – but he was so fast and so wild. In 1978 we
were rallying in Canada in Fiats. Makinen retired early so went to spectate instead.
Afterwards he came up to me and said, ‘Only Finns are meant to be able to do rallying.
But you were the best out there.’ It was the moment this boy from Bavaria felt accepted.

Hannu Mikkola

“Hannu was completely different – a proper gentleman and always quiet, but a real
hero. I can remember back in 1972 watching him in a forest in Germany driving an
Escort, and thinking what a privilege it was, just being able to stand there and watch
Hannu Mikkola come past. It was the first time I’d seen him like that and I’ll never
forget it.”

Eddy Merckx

Five-time Tour de France winner Eddy Merckx, the greatest cyclist of his and, some
still say, any generation is Walter's next choice. “I wanted so much to be like him,”
muses Walter. “What was incredible about Eddie was that he’d win the race before it
started. He was so good that he knew that if he started, he would win. And more than
anything, I wanted to be like that. Later on we became friends and for a long time I’d go
cycling with him every year.”

Ayrton Senna

“Ayrton just wanted to be perfect, and that’s how I felt in my career. Not the fastest, but
the best. He had the same attitude and I admired him for it. We shared the same
manager for a while and I’d arranged to go driving with him in an Audi S1 when he had
his accident at Imola.”

The Porsche 911 and Lancia 037

"‘If it’s a road car, it’s the Porsche 911. It always has been, and not because I’m paid by
Porsche. But of all the competition cars I drove, it is without doubt the Lancia 037. That
was a beautiful car to drive, and fitted my style to perfection.”

Rallye-Legende Walter Röhrl feiert heute irgendwo in den Tiroler Alpen 60. Geburtstag
– wie immer abseits des großen Rummels.
Von Dieter Krelle, MZ
ST. ENGLMAR. „Da haben sie 50000 Mark ausgegeben, um dann zu erfahren, was ich
eh schon wusste“, amüsiert sich Walter Röhrl, Deutschlands erster
Automobilweltmeister, noch immer über eine Umfrage während der Rallye Deutschland
2001. „80 Prozent haben sich nur für das Rennen interessiert, weil ich im Porsche GT3
als Vorausfahrer gestartet bin. Die Leute wollten wieder mal ganz hautnah an mir dran
sein.“ Jenen Menschen eine kleine Freude zu machen, „die sowieso nicht viel zu lachen
haben“, das ist die Rolle, die dem eigentlich medienscheuen und trotzdem immer
wieder ins Licht der Öffentlichkeit gerückten zweifachen Rallye-Weltmeister von 1980
und 1982 auf den Leib geschneidert zu sein scheint.

Dabei gibt er sich noch immer scheu wie ein Reh und begeht seinen 60. Geburtstag am
heutigen Mittwoch irgendwo in der Einsamkeit der Tiroler Alpen abseits jeder
gespurten Loipe, gemeinsam mit „meinem Freund Heiner“ auf mit Fellen bewehrten
Langlaufskiern. Es war schon ein Zufall, den Regensburger, der sich längst an einem
der schönsten Fleckchen in Deutschland eingerichtet hat, auf ein paar ruhige Stunden im
Haus in St.Englmar im Bayerischen Wald anzutreffen. Dass kurz vor seinem Ehrentag
ein Sportfahrerlehrgang am Polarkreis abgesagt worden war, half dem seit 15 Jahren
Porsche repräsentierenden Asketen, „in meinem Refugium“ gegen eine Erkältung
anzugehen. Und Ehefrau Monika kümmerte sich beruhigt um die Geschäfte in
Regensburg, wohl wissend, dass die sanfte Katzendame Lisa den Walter leicht in ganz
positive Stimmung versetzt.

Doch auch sie verhilft Röhrl nicht zu dem, was er in seinen stressigen Rallyefahrer-
Jahren einfach deshalb fand, weil er nach irren Strapazen abends todmüde ins Bett fiel.
„Ich war schon im Schlaflabor. Aber mehr als vier Stunden Schlaf bringe ich nicht
zusammen“, sieht er den einzigen Nachteil in dem noch fast unmerklichen Rückzug aus
dem automobilen Hochleistungssport.

25 Jahre hat er nicht nur in 75 WM- Rallyes oder auf der Rundstrecke, wo er 1979
nebenbei mit Lancia Tourenwagen-Markenweltmeister wurde, die Herausforderung
gesucht. Als ihn 1968 sein Freund Herbert Maracek zur Teilnahme an der Bavaria
Rallye überredete, steckte der Renn-Bazillus noch nicht in ihm. Den Klasseauftritt im
Fiat 850 Coupe beendete die defekte Lichtmaschine. Pech bei Bavaria Nummer zwei:
Das Duo übersieht eine Zeitkontrolle. Platz zwei ist futsch. Einer von vielen
Rückschlägen, die den Rallye-Europameister von 1974 (Opel Ascona) nur stärker
machten. Ob es 1973 in der mächtigen Schaukel Opel Commodore bei seinem Debüt
auf der Rallye Monte Carlo gegen die Werks-Alpine ging, ob er 1982 im Opel Ascona
gegen die übermächtigen Lancias zum zweiten Mal die Monte gewann und im selben
Jahr sogar zum zweiten Mal Weltmeister wurde – immer beherrschte er, den Niki Lauda
respektvoll „Das Genie auf Rädern“ nannte, das Übermaß an ungebändigten
Motorkräften, steuerte mit geradezu außerirdischer Präzision. Und das, obwohl er
wegen der 1,96m Größe quasi in einer unbequemen Rundrücken-Sitzposition das
Lenkrad feinfühlig dirigieren musste.

Autos wie Skier zu steuern, das hatte Walter Röhrl schon mit 18 gelernt, als der
kaufmännische Lehrling den unerschütterlichen Oberfinanzdirektor Dr. Heinrich
Zenglein im Renntempo durch die Diözese Regensburg von einem Ordinariats-Termin
zum anderen chauffierte. „Damals konntest du auf der Landstraße noch in zwei Stunden
von Regensburg nach Würzburg fahren“, beschreibt Röhrl die autodidaktische
Fahrerschulung Ende der 60er. Dass er aus dem bischöflichen Büro-Job ausbrach, sehr
zum Entsetzen seiner Mutter, war letztlich auch Produkt dieser Ausbildung. Und dass er
in seinem Beruf unvergessliche Spuren hinterließ, wie einst die Sonderprüfung im
Nebel bei der Rallye Portugal, als er der Konkurrenz auf 40 Kilometer fünf Minuten
abnahm, war einem jener Zornesanfälle geschuldet, mit denen der unverbiegbare Profi
auf seine unnachahmliche Art Grant bewältigte.

Mit solchen Fahrten strickte der Regensburger immer wieder an seiner Fahrer-Legende,
die ihm die Hochachtung der Konkurrenten wie Sandro Munari, Marku Alen, Björn
Waldegaard, Ari Vatanen, Stig Blomqvist und Timo Salonen einbrachte. „Auto fahren
konnten die alle wie Hölle. Aber damals habe ich noch nicht gewusst, was die nebenbei
geschluckt haben.“ Das hätte einen Walter Röhrl, der 60 Stunden am Stück am Steuer
ohne jede Tablette durchhalten konnte, umgeworfen.

Schneller sind mittlerweile nur die Autos geworden, und Röhrl ist heute schon
zufrieden, wenn er den von ihm maßgeblich mitentwickelten Porsche GT3 RS, mit dem
er unter 7:42 Minuten (schneller als die Formel 1 zu Lauda-Zeiten) die Nordschleife auf
dem Nürburgring bewältigt, auf der Autobahn mit Tempo 160 bewegt. Für ihn ist das
ähnlich umweltschonend, wie wenn er von St. Englmar nach Regensburg radelt, was er
sehr häufig tut, um sich die Fitness zu bewahren, die ihn in seiner großen
Rallyefahrerzeit hoch über die Konkurrenz erhob.

Natürlich weiß er um den Zwiespalt zwischen seiner automobilen Passion und seiner
eigenen Naturverbundenheit und versucht deshalb seine CO-Bilanz als Privatperson so
gering wie möglich zu halten. „Ich predige immer, die Autos könnten viel leichter sein.“
Und in Kolumnen gibt er ständig Tipps zur Vernunft am Steuer. Dass da nicht mal sein
Vorbild viel bewirken kann, weiß er selbst.

The most famous Flying Finn of them all - Hannu Mikkola - is the driver Audi
chose to develop the first quattros. It was the start of a now legendary
championship-winning partnership. Here, Tony Howard talks to Hannu during
the 1000 Lakes Rally and later as he relaxes at home...

FOR A superstar, Hannu Mikkola is very unassuming. It's a breathtaking

privilege to sit beside him at speed, witnessing masterful car control that has
made him the most successful rally driver of all time. Yet, for him, it's nothing
special. And the rest of his life appears just as relaxed, well balanced.

He has a rare gift-time to communicate - whether you talk to him in the quiet of
his own home or amidst the high drama of a rally which may be going superbly
well, or terribly wrong.

He was even approachable when walking down a rain-lashed special stage,

after crashing his car into the trees of Finland not two hours after the start of the
1000 Lakes Rally. With months of hard work down the drain, wasn't that a
terrible anti-climax?

"Yes," he says, "but not immediately. Everything has stopped and you are just
relieved that you and your partner are in one piece. A few hours later, it gets to
you.
 "If the car breaks or somebody else makes a mistake, it doesn't hurt me very
much. But when I do it, I really hate that.

"I don't really know what happened this time," he reveals. "The fact is that the
roads chosen were very narrow this year, and it was very slippery. There was a
flat-out kink with trees on both sides, and the car moved 20 or 30 centimetres
too far to the left.

"The door handles brushed a tree, and I think the rear bumper caught on it,
putting the car sideways. I thought we were okay - I never realised we were in
trouble until we started hitting other trees."

It was only the second time in seven seasons with Audi Sport that Mikkola had
seriously damaged a car.
Reputation

"In 1985 we were doing some high-speed testing for the Safari Rally, and
suddenly the road wasn't there," he recalls. "So it wasn't really my fault. I
haven't done this sort of thing too often, but I guess it has to happen some
time."

Although he clearly takes such things to heart, his reputation could easily
withstand a few more dents.

Flying Finns and Speeding Swedes have dominated rallying for decades, but
Mikkola's record 18 World Championship rally wins are unbeaten. He won the
title in 1983, and has completed five other seasons in the top three.

Now, 45, he shows no signs of peaking out. He won Kenya's demanding

Safari Rally for Audi at Easter.

His first event was in a second-hand Volvo, bought clandestinely when he was
a 21-year-old engineering student. Winning his first 1000 Lakes Rally in 1968
made him Finnish national champion. But he became an international
household name two years later when he won the Daily Mirror's 16,000-mile
epic London-Mexico World Cup Rally. He celebrated his 28th birthday en route.

"When I can't be the best any more, I'll do some proper engineering work," he
said at the finish. But we're still waiting.

Genius is one element of his durability. His temperament is another. Audi

Sport team boss Herwart Kreiner puts it in a nutshell: "Hannu is different. All the
time, he thinks for the factory and for the mechanics."

Nordic prowess in rallying begins with climate and terrain. Car control is sharp,
thanks to half-a-year of ice and snow, which eventually melt to reveal thousands
of miles of near-deserted gravel roads.

"Rallying's at a very high level here in Finland," Mikkola says. "It's a modern
sport so it creates a lot of interest and attracts plenty of youngsters. Also, we
tend to be good when performing on our own - things like running, jumping and
skiing. But put Finns together in a team for football or ice hockey, and they're
awful."

Mikkola has trouble explaining his own dexterity further. "I'm not the kind of
person who thinks first about the solution, how to drive. For me it's been quite
easy. I just sit in the car. I feel it. And that's it.

"I've never really been able to describe why I did this or that. Sometimes you
meet people who can tell you exactly how or why they went off the road.
Maturity

"Always I say, 'If you had so much time to think about it, why didn't you save
the car?' Because it normally happens - snap - like that for me. And I haven't
got time to analyse: If I do this, it will go there. It just goes off, and that's it."

Maturity is a major asset in this game, he believes. "Youngsters don't have the
experience or the eye for the right lines to drive fast. You have to get the speed
somehow, and that's when you make mistakes.

"A young driver may be quicker than I am, nine times out of 10. But the tenth
time, he makes his mistake, and I catch up with him again."

Mikkola ranks alongside grand prix racing's best, such as Alain Prost, Nigel
Mansell, Nelson Piquet and Ayrton Senna. But, although Formula 1 money is
required to contest a World Rally Championship, the atmosphere of the rallying
circuit is less self-obsessed.

"Rally drivers are quite good friends," says Mikkola. "Here in Finland, we see
each other quite a lot - not just rallying, but boating and so on.

"It seems to me that, in Formula 1, the drivers are not so happy with each
other. But, in our business, we don't drive against each other physically - you
drive your rally over the stages. You don't have the situation in Formula 1 where
you can blame another driver, complain that he was blocking you. That makes it
easier for us."

Ironically, however, rallying is in many respects much more of a team effort

than grand prix racing. For a start, there are two people in the car, not one, and
this demands a continuous act of faith between driver and co-driver who
depend on each other for their lives.

The remarkable symbiosis between Mikkola and his partner Arne Hertz, a 48-
year-old Swede, has kept them together for 11 years. "You learn to know each
other," says Mikkola. "And I'm very happy with him because I like the way he
reads the pace notes. He knows exactly what I like to have, and I don't have to
double-check anything."
Strenuous
 The pair will no doubt continue working together, one way or another, for a
considerable time once they cease competing. Meanwhile the pace of Mikkola's
life continues unabated, even though Audi has curtailed its rallying programme
while deciding which way to go in the face of precipitate rule changes that have
wrong-footed most manufacturers active in the sport.

Contesting a full world rally series is a strenuous business. "It's a hell of a

thing to do because it takes up 300 days of your year," says Mikkola.

"Each rally takes one week and you practise 14 hours a day for two weeks
before that. There are 12 rallies - one a month. Add to that the travel, some
testing and a bit of PR work, and you don't have many days off. Most drivers
who do it say they've had enough after one or two years. It really isn't an easy
job, believe me."

Mikkola would happily settle for a season of his favourite events - Monte
Carlo, Portugal, Safari, Acropolis, 1000 Lakes and Britain's Lombard RAC Rally.

But that still wouldn't leave him much time to relax with his wife Arja and their
young sons Juha and Vesa, the latter summarising his father's main pre-
occupations as "reading Donald Duck and going to the bank for money."

Typically, an event like the 1000 Lakes involves driving flat-out for 1500 miles
of testing to set-up suspension and brakes. "You should always remember that,
first, the car has to be easy to drive,” Mikkola says. “You have to have
confidence in it. There may be some adjustment that makes it a little bit quicker.

"But, if this makes you afraid all the time about what it's going to do next, you
can't drive like that for long periods. So, ultimately, you'll he slower."

Next comes 5000 miles of practice, followed by the rally itself - this year's
1000 Lakes was 1058 miles long with 52 special stages totalling 307 miles.

When he's not in a rally car, Mikkola spends much of his time travelling the
world to fly the flag for Audi. September alone saw him at the Frankfurt motor
show for six days, driving dealers round the 13-mile Nürburgring circuit for five
days, and in Los Angeles for another five days with dealers from North and
South America. During one three-week stint in Japan last Autumn, he
demonstrated an 80 quattro to no less than 560 people - everyone in the
country directly associated with Audi.
Sunshine

Scandinavians have a reputation for prodigious thirst. Mikkola used to be no

exception, and by the rind-1970s he'd become a trifle paunchy. Now slimmer,
he smiles: "I haven't had a hangover for more than 10 years, but I still have to
watch my diet."

Perhaps surprisingly, all that high-speed driving is insufficient to keep him as

fit as he needs to be, so he jogs. "I hate it," he grimaces. "But I have to do it,
and the only enjoyment I get is from sort of winning over myself. My doctor told
me at least 30 minutes - about four miles - say three times a week.

"When I started, I wasn't in condition, and it was very nice to see how quickly I
improved. After a few months, you notice that you're thinking about other things,
which means you're no longer having to fight just to run.

"If you travel a lot, jogging is the only thing you can do - all you need are the
shoes, and you can do it any time, anywhere. For a game of tennis or squash,
you have to find a partner and a place to play."

Golf is Mikkola's other sport, but it's less of an obsession than it was. "It was a
terrible sort of disease. I played a lot - every day for the first two-and-a-half
years - and that was a big problem. Luckily, I'm slowing down now."

The family divides its year, living from May to September at home in Espoo
just outside Helsinki, and the rest of the time in Florida. The reason is more one
of sunshine than tax exile. For enlightened Finnish tax law means that, if you
work more than six months a year for a foreign company and spend no more
than 70-80 days in the country, you don't get clobbered.

"It's a long winter here," Mikkola says. "And, with young kids not yet in school,
we are free to make a choice. But we've decided to give them an education in
Finland, so we'll soon have to stay here in winter too."

The Florida connection goes back to 1979 when Mlikkola's father retired, and
his parents wanted a warm escape from the near-Arctic winter.

Almost all Finns grow up close to water, whether on the coast or next to one of
the 62,000 inland lakes. So the family's life-style is much the same in both
homes, and a boat is indispensable.
Time saver

In this case, it's a 36-ft Nimbus 4000, moored to a jetty on the lagoon at the
bottom of the garden. Power from a pair of 4.1-litre 200bhp Volvo diesels is
sufficient for 30 knots. Cruising at 22-23 knots, safe endurance is 10 hours on
700 litres of fuel, though it may run as long as 13 hours.

Below, there is everything that opens and shuts, and the wheelhouse-cum-
saloon sports the latest electronic navigational aids, including auto-pilot.

"This is still the size of boat we can handle as a family," Mikkola says. "I don't
need anybody helping, although it's nice if you have somebody else who knows
what to do, and my wife's pretty good at that.

"It's very handy for us because it has two cabins - one for the kids, and one for
us. And it has this small shower which is fantastic. None of my previous boats
had one and, after two days, I used to feel terrible."
 Mikkola took delivery personally in Denmark, and the 650-mile voyage home
took him three days.

A real time saver in everyday life, the boat takes just 20 minutes to reach
Helsinki's shopping centre by sea, instead of an hour by car.

But the most important role of the Nimbus is as the ultimate get-away vehicle -
to a 10-acre island, 100 miles away. "It takes four hours to get there," Mikkola
says, "and we're never in the open sea. We just pass between lots of islands all
the way, and it's very beautiful.

"We've now built a small cottage out there - it's in the middle of nowhere, with
no electricity and no running water. So it's a sort of sport to go there. But we
cheat a bit because we can go down to the boat for a shower, and I have a
mobile phone there too."