It is difficult to imagine a Stage Rally in the early seventies without the Mk 1 Ford Escort.

Those of us who put up with the really early morning starts and the trudge through dank woods over ankle-twisting tree stumps in order to get as close to the action as possible were often rewarded with the sight and sound of Escorts doing what they do best.

You could hear them way before you saw them, the cacophonous howl of a BDA at 10,000 revs screaming for more cold air, would echo up through the pines and then, suddenly, a pair of bright headlights on the outside of four 7" Cibie Oscars would burn a hole in the mist and then past, only inches away, the exhaust resonating in your chest as your internal organs vibrate in sympathy, and if you were really lucky you would get showered in gravel as well.

Addictive.

Ford had, for a number of years, used active participation in motorsport as a means of getting their showroom doors swinging on a Monday morning, and the new Escort was to prove ...