Original subtitles

I remember when you worked at...

You were in different rally teams.

You let me drive the car as a kid.

You opened the door and let me.

If there was a helmet, I could wear it.

Now my feet can reach the pedals.

I could really hit it.

Yeah.

I was so struck by the

emotion you spoke about it.

I was still a kid.

Somehow, by some chance,

we found this car over here.

I'm already tearing up.

A living legend.

Some folks don't understand rallying.

What strange people,

they go into the woods

where it's hard to even ride a bike,

drive cars at such a speed

that you're shaking with fear.

When you fall for racing,

as I did in the early 80s,

it starts small

but ends up consuming your life.

Eedo, how was it?

Not too bad. Pretty good.

100 meters, jump, uphill.

Right, keep going.

As early as the 1960s in Estonia

they were making rally cars in Vihur.

The USSR classifications changed.

It used to be just Moskvich and Volga,

or Pobeda,

but then we got Group B cars.

These cars were built

specifically for racing.

Racing became a speed competition

around the 1970s.

My story begins in the 1980s,

when I was young.

Pepsi was the hottest drink then,

you had to wear a headband

and in a sixth of the world,

Lada VFTS was the fastest rally car.

Not Audi or Toyota, but still the best

on this side of the Iron Curtain.

It was the only Soviet-made rally car

compliant with international standards,

lovingly called „Cannon“.

And it was also pretty.

Especially when driven by

our own brave young lads.

But time takes its toll.

All beauty fades and

and most of the old four-wheelers

are now scrap metal.

Still, there are happy endings.

Four former beauties

that Estonians drove to great fame

have been pulled out of oblivion.

I'm very glad to see that

they're getting a new lease at life.

Let me show you a great picture.

This was racing Volgas.

The Ants Rüütel Cup.

They had their own scoring system.

I'm the only man, who has

won the Rüütel Cup with Volga.

I beat the Ladas in my Volga

before I started driving one myself.

The winner is Hardi Mets.

Standing on the podium,

the two-time USSR champion on Lada VFTS

with two silver medals from

the Eastern Bloc Cup, Hardi Mets.

The Mets brothers were great.

Udo was very calm and.

Hardi was talented behind the wheel.

The best jobs during Soviet times

were taxi driver, waiter and doorman.

We were taxi drivers.

The Tempo club at the taxi park

was a USSR champion before our time.

They said to pick a co-driver.

I didn't know what that means.

We drive together and he reads to me

and I must drive fast.

My brother was my first pick.

And we stuck together until today.

All these years.

The USSR rally champions with Volga.

Hardi and Udo Mets,

drivers in the taxi park.

What must co-driver say to the driver?

Lots of things.

Read the pacenotes and follow the route.

A lot depends on the co-driver.

If the pacenotes were poor

or the curve was misannounced,

it can lead to serious mishaps.

It was funny at first.

They gave us a pacenotes,

someone else made it the first rallies.

I didn't know what to do.

What the hell is that "left and right"?

"Blind" and so on...

The last stage brought us the win.

We got to the finish line somehow,

I don't know how.

The taxi park didn't have rally cars.

They had taxis you drove for work.

35 in Baltic Station.

35 goes to Pikk Street 37.

Commission Shop and Yakovleva.

Sometimes the work day ended at 10 pm,

and the start was 12 noon.

A night in the workshop,

install the rollcage, the engine is already in,

take out the seats

and rally started at noon.

With Volga.

Just shut down the taximeter.

Some drivers have natural talent.

The stories say

that Vello Õunpuu was a real legend,

he did miracles at the wheel

as a bus driver.

Old ladies used to check

who's driving the bus.

With Õunpuu they didn't get on.

He made them fly.

On Lada VFTS,

the gold- and silver-medalist

in the Eastern Bloc Cup and the winner

in his class at the European Rally Championship event

Vello Õunpuu.

The media was saying

there is race coming in a hippodrome.

The Estonian elite, from the USSR team, are there.

I took my day off

and came in my Moskvich truck

to see how it's done.

I had never seen it before.

I didn't get a chance to try the track

and see how slippery it is,

but driving over from Saaremaa for three hours

the road was slightly slippery.

I got a bit of a fright after the start:

did I make a false start?

I heard a lot of noise,

but the others didn't get going.

In the Tallinn hippodrome,

the bus driver from the island of Saaremaa 00:08:58,880... > 00:09:01,160 took the overall championship.

I took the win.

He was an extremely talented guy.

Many people didn't like him

because he just came and won,

with some old clunker from Saaremaa, bam!

Laughed in the faces of the aces.

Who would like that?

They weren't weaksauce.

They drove in the West, with Avtoexport.

And suddenly, in front of thousands,

they were just shat on.

Some old Moskvich truck comes

and showers them in dirt.

His first victory was special

as Vello Õunpuu drove

an ordinary Moskvich cargo truck

against famous ace drivers

and fast Ladas.

I was at that race.

Got schooled like a naughty cat.

I even scared myself.

Here comes two-time Estonian champion,

two-time USSR champion,

Eastern Bloc gold- and bronze-medalist.

Vallo Soots in Lada VFTS.

Vallo Soots was a great driver,

but he was also a very good mechanic.

My rally career started after the military service.

My long-time co-driver

was Toomas Putmaker.

I know Vallo since 1955.

We were both studying

in the Second Tallinn High School,

together since first grade.

He came from the military service a year earlier

and several of us classmates ended up

in the Kalev Motoring Club.

They had a racing department.

They were all there, so I went too,

although not to race, I didn't have a car.

I thought I'd help build engines.

His dad taught him well.

He was blinded in the war

but he knew the physics of it so well

that even blind, he could teach his son.

Soots is still a great authority

when it comes to building cars.

There was a rally and someone couldn't go

so I went in his stead

and it turned out so well

that I got a car and could start racing.

Ruling champions Vallo Soots

and Toomas Putmaker,

how does it feel to open the road?

It's a lottery.

It can be good or bad.

In a blizzard, it's bad to race first.

Being first is an advantage

but also a burden of expectations?

Of course.

It's always difficult with a home crowd.

Starting the competition,

USSR gold-, silver- and bronze-medalist,

four-time Estonian champion,

Eastern Bloc Championship medalist.

Ilmar Raissar in Lada VFTS.

I would have given my life

to somehow get to a race.

If I could make some kind of deal

to get a chance

to compete on a racetrack

with Endel Kiisa and Lembit Teesalu,

I was ready to die racing.

I would have been willing.

Ilmar Raissar drove the Volga

in some kolkhoz in Aravete.

As soon as he joined the Harju KEK rally team,

he was the USSR champion.

A very creative

and extremely intelligent driver.

Near my home,

they held the Tartu championship

in uphill racing.

I went there on my bicycle.

I was begging the taxi park boys

to let me drive a Volga uphill.

They said their roster was full

and there was no place for me.

Fortunately, Toomas Olbrei

was racing a Volga for the taxi park.

He knew a guy who had a Gaz 51 truck. 00:13:41,840... > 00:13:46,360 Several dozen were there.

I jumped into the Gaz 51

and blazed up the hill.

I ended up fourth.

I was full of bluster then.

I went back to the taxi park boys,

I begged them for a Volga again.

They felt sorry for me.

Fair enough, they found me a place.

"You can take the oldest car."

I took first place in that Volga.

All the Ladas, Moskviches and Volgas

got a beating from me, so to speak.

This is my first Volga

that I started my career in.

The one to the side

should be my Volga.

That's all I have left of it now.

No more photos.

The gang decided

that this guy should be racing.

During the award ceremony...

I'm tearing up again.

They handed me the diploma

and the keys to the Volga along with it.

And that moment...

that brought a tear to my eye, like now.

Right.

The Soviet era rally cars

have nothing in common with modern cars,

but Estonians loved rallying

as much as they do today.

Their interest in rallying

wasn't born out of thin air.

The Paide Rally of '84

brought the country's elite

to Central Estonia.

Rally is one of the few sports

that draws a decent audience.

This competition

was a clear sign of its popularity.

The efforts of 69 crews

were cheered by a plethora of fans

from the midday

up to the next morning.

There was less entertainment back then,

but I'm convinced

that the masses were attracted

by the amazing performance of our drivers.

We had more ace drivers at the time

than the cars had gears.

In the 80s, all men in the USSR team...

Everyone knew them.

Our generation was as famous in Estonia

as Ott Tänak and Markko Märtin today.

And there were lots of them.

Estonian drivers were like astronauts.

At the time, certainly.

They stood out

and they were paraded, interviewed.

Rally Estonia '84,

the opening ceremony in Tartu

at the UT stadium.

An audience of thousands saw a lineup

of 74 crews in four categories,

competing in the Estonian championship.

People are commenting,

You show off, you know they're looking.

"Look, Rüütel's coming."

Rally drivers were popular,

we were discussed, we traveled abroad

for all sorts of rallies.

No one else did that.

Basketball players and a few others.

There wasn't any tennis.

We were the center of attention.

There he comes, our ace driver.

What an artist! He's the one who competes.

"Mati!"

The mechanics had their costumes,

brought from abroad,

with logos on the back.

What could it have been? Pirelli.

Finland. Something like that.

You could wear these to a party.

Rally was religion number two.

After basketball, of course.

No competition there.

A measure of the highest level

was getting into the USSR team.

That was every driver's dream.

We mainly dreamed about

peeking behind the Iron Curtain.

More than 140 cars came to Valga stadium

for the opening ceremony

of the USSR rally championship.

Almost all the Soviet aces are here,

Only Raide and Valdek are missing,

they are racing in the Rally Spain.

It's no wonder

that every season the USSR team

had several rally crews from Estonia.

We had a reason to put pedal to the metal.

Even getting to Finland

was seeing the free world.

That was one reason.

To get into the USSR team

meant to get to the free world.

Racing for the best teams in the world

like Ott Tänak and Markko Märtin

was an impossible dream

for the athletes of the time.

For them, the peak was

getting into the USSR team.

They couldn't get further

due to the Iron Curtain.

No point dreaming about it.

Such was our fate.

That's actually

an emotional picture for us.

The 1984 Rallye Tatry.

It was at the time when...

the first year we drove the Ladas.

Our first start

in the USSR team abroad.

It was a great race.

The beginning of our Lada times.

The rally car project VFTS was launched,

so the Soviet Union team

could compete in the WRC events,

the European Championship rallies and also

the Eastern Bloc Cup.

Avtoexport was an organization

that sold Soviet cars and motorcycles

in the West, since 1956,

to bring in foreign currency.

They wanted the cars to be fast

and driven by trustworthy men,

so the core of the USSR team

throughout the years

were Estonian rally drivers.

A few from Moscow and Latvia,

a few from Lithuania,

but the most guys from Estonia.

Our overall level was very high,

but the Lithuanians had two aces,

Tamulevičius and Brundza.

I competed the year before last.

In the Prague rally.

Here are my 10 USSR championship gold medals

and 6 more for coaching.

I coached Tamulevičius and a few others.

The other colours mean

that something went wrong.

A burnt piston or a co-driver's mistake.

Or something else.

We lost.

8 times in the Bulgarian Rally.

Different races.

I competed in Finland 12 times.

Our cars were the best Soviet cars.

Avtoexport...

was quite strict about it,

in capitalist countries we had to race

only with cars prepared in Vilnius, Lithuania.

I'll talk a bit about the background.

What was happening in 1982?

The Afghan War had lasted for two years,

taking billions from the USSR's budget.

Rubles or dollars, doesn't matter.

The armed forces drained

the Soviet Union's budget.

They sorely needed

to make more money.

Group B was a way

to sell almost 20-year-old Ladas

all over the world.

We made rally cars based on the VAZ 011 in 1977.

Lada 2105 came later.

Then we adjusted to the 05.

We made the wheel arches for Lada 2105.

Looking inside, you can see many changes.

Starting with the frame.

The suspension was strengthened

to withstand rough roads.

The roads were rough everywhere.

In order to race in Group B,

the FIA officials had to

homologate the car.

The official would measure and check

and confirm that 200 cars were made.

That was the only limitation.

When the homologation began in 1982,

only a couple VFTS-s at best were ready.

When the FIA officials came,

VFTS borrowed similar cars

from all over the USSR.

Rally cars based on Lada 2105.

Estonian rally team Vihur sent a whole bunch.

They look the same on the outside

but they're not VFTS, not by a long shot.

They are so-called other products.

It was showed they had production

and made a certain amount of cars.

In Group B, I mean.

When the FIA official said

that there's twenty cars here,

but where are the rest,

they told him...

I wasn't there, can't say for sure,

but we heard it from FIA.

They said the rest are still in Tolyatti,

a great car factory in Russia.

The French official asked where that is.

"Well, that's in Siberia."

The official didn't feel like going there.

He stamped the papers

and the homologation was done.

I'd say that there never were

200 proper Group B VFTS cars.

Even over the years

they didn't build so many.

What should the car be called?

The doors said "Brundza Tuning".

That was a red flag to the USSR officials.

What Brundza?

It's a Soviet team.

The Vilnius Car Repair Center.

What does that mean?

That they break easily?

It's an official name for the factory? 00:26:07,520... > 00:26:10,080 So we invented something

more understandable.

Well, that's relative.

No one understood VFTS

or the Vilnius Transport Vehicle Factory.

But it made for a good logo.

All the cars were fitted with

Audi pistons made by MAHLE.

It wasn't a special order.

A SACHS clutch, of course.

The Bilstein shocks were also imported.

A Weber carburetor, naturally.

Mostly Weber 45.

Consumer rally cars didn't compete with VFTS.

No foreign currency in the domestic market.

But speaking of the cars

that were built into VFTS's in Estonia,

Brundza's factory

couldn't make them for everyone,

that was mainly and without exception

for the Soviet Union rally team.

The competition cars are in Vilnius,

Brundza is preparing them for us.

After the 25th we'll bring them home.

The management decided

who would compete that year.

They had cars prepared for them.

In October 1983,

Estonian town Põlva was the rally capital of the USSR.

The third leg of the USSR championship

of Group B cars

brought 30 of the most famous crews,

who started competing for the title

in the winter in Russia

and then on Lithuanian roads.

It would be decided in Estonia.

Getting to the Soviet team was difficult,

relentless and serious work on all fronts.

The list of candidates was long.

It was hard to get on it.

Even more complicated back then

than competing at WRC events now.

You had to know people

and get along with them.

No matter how well you drove,

the connections got you in.

To get to the Soviet Union team,

you had to be faster than Russians.

Much faster.

Winning by two seconds wasn't enough.

Winning by a minute gave some hope.

A minute and a half was much better.

Between the rounds

we were ahead of the USSR team.

Their coach came to tell me:

"Hardi, slow down a bit."

"The others need the points more."

I said I don't know how,

that they should be faster.

Be faster if you want to win.

As simple as that.

That's all I can say.

Moscow started wondering

about so many Estonians on the team.

Are there not enough of our own?

The Estonians show great quality

in the USSR championship

and larger competitions,

with quite decent results.

They have won the right

to represent our country in the team.

What do you think, Heiki?

I think the main factor is

their great driving skills.

The Estonians are currently

the most numerous in the USSR team.

Four crews in the USSR team.

That's a big...

Big percentage.

No one wanted us there.

The Estonians were fast.

There wasn't any room.

Yes, no room.

There were 23 crews in the USSR team

and 12 of them were Estonians.

Imagine that.

Out of the 15 Soviet republics,

of those who could be on the team,

10-12 were Estonians.

The rest were from other republics,

including factory drivers.

Who wanted to see the Estonians there?

They cheated in many ways.

Improved the time of their own, Russian boys.

We weren't in the team

but rose to third place.

We were quite fast

and had a shot,

but then came the wise Jewish coach:

"Listen, Soots."

"If you win the next stage,"

"I'll rip up your time card."

"You won't be competing"

"in any foreign races next year."

The best drivers in the world understood

that our Estonian boys did wonders

with these clunkers.

I got the chance in January 2018.

An acquaintance said...

He sent me a Finnish ad,

for a car with the Raissar name.

Me and your other son Daniel

went to get it the very next day.

Their older brother called me.

"They found your car in Finland."

Honey, let's go home.

We'll help you out of your coma.

It was with us almost two years,

until Juss...

Juss Roden heard about it.

I still worked in.

Juss Roden and Markko Märtin's rally team.

Juss heard about it,

He heard about the car.

- Is it coming?

Just like I used to drive.

It should be renovated.

There's lots more room on this side.

Mr Ilmar's car.

It has seen many races and victories.

One of the few with real history.

One of the few surviving cars in Estonia.

Let's get to work.

Let's breathe some life into it.

Let's give the car another chance.

That part of history is seldom restored.

It's still possible today.

The men remember how it was.

I wouldn't take such a shabby wreck,

but when llmar said

it's a good move, the real deal,

I knew it was worth it to try.

Here's the real car in action.

That's what it originally looked like.

I hope to one day

restore this image.

My blessing is

that I managed...

to race during the Lada VFTS era.

With all the famous drivers of the time.

And I sometimes managed to beat them.

An exciting victory in class 8

to Raissar and Talvar from Harju KEK,

beating Hardi and Udo Mets by 26 seconds.

The car that's being restored

is very special for us.

We have won many medals with it,

two USSR medals and Eastern Bloc Cups.

Amazingly, this number

has been very close to our hearts.

I hadn't driven a Lada for 20 years.

I happened to move one in the parking lot.

When I drove across the yard,

I thought I must have been crazy

to drive it on two wheels

on the edge of a mountain chasm.

That's where me and my team lived.

The first thing I notice

are the original workbenches.

When the VFTS came on the market,

Vihur went over to consumer rally cars.

They built for the domestic market.

They couldn't use any parts

you had to buy with foreign currency.

A simple example,

the VFTS was equipped with.

KONI or Bilstein shock absorbers,

sports shocks, so the car wouldn't

land on its belly after a jump.

The shocks did their job.

To get the same out of Soviet shocks,

Vihur installed double shock absorbers.

Vihur had eight of them.

That's a consumer rally car.

I built the engines.

Back then,

Soots had the most powerful engines

with the best stats.

Back when I raced,

Soots's cars were the most fun.

His fingers feel the metal,

he can tell whether it will break.

Vallo's engines didn't break.

Vallo built actual quality.

Some other guys were fine too,

but when it came to engines,

Vallo Soots was undeniably the best.

Developing an engine

isn't like developing software nowadays,

it's something else entirely.

It was handicraft back then.

Just handiwork and intuition,

some knowledge from journals.

I had a colleague in the building who read

Czech and Finnish motor sports magazines.

He happened to get a Finnish magazine

with exact specifications

for Weber carburetors,

down to the basics, what parts to pick.

These were the best carburetors,

for competition cars.

They clicked together like a Lego.

You had to pick the right parts.

We had the tables from the magazine,

so we put the right stuff.

Our competitors' cars spat and sputtered,

didn't run on neutral,

but ours worked like consumer cars.

I was the only one to know some things.

When adjusting the carburetors,

I knew that with one part

you had to add this and that one.

I knew the theory and the system.

The others did what they could.

It was a bit different in Vihur.

You could just walk in

and stand behind Soots for five minutes,

look at him work on a cylinder head.

Then you finally broke and asked:

"Vallo, why do you do it like this?"

"I don't think that's right."

And Vallo would cover it up and say:

"What? How did you get here?"

I also helped sometimes.

Here we have a Lada 1600 cc engine

for a Lada VFTS.

Everyone had a somewhat unique style,

but we all did the same thing.

Whose was better?

Hard to say,

because drivers were different too.

By and large, these cars

were all equally powerful.

Now we install

the so-called chain tensioner shoe

that is no longer a shoe.

It's ball bearings and gears now.

I'll show you the original,

just a shoe the chain drags over.

There's no dragging any more.

Just a rotating bearing

that tightens the chain with a gear.

The sprocket has been lightened,

these parts have been planished out

and turned a bit thinner

to make the rotating mass lighter.

Depending on the rallies of the season,

engines wore out differently.

The engine lasted about

a thousand race kilometers.

Rallies were longer back then.

During one rally,

they drove as many kilometers

as in the Estonian championship

during the whole year.

About 450-500 km

were an average special stages.

An engine lasted about two rallies

before it had to be replaced.

The economy advanced with the sport,

the Estonians got a good handle on that.

I didn't see it anywhere else.

We heard about guys in Odessa and Latvia,

each doing their own thing,

but we had strong teams pop up

and the competition ensured

the high level of Estonian drivers.

A world apart

from the Armenian or Ukrainian team.

The car design was clean and proper,

our boys were well-dressed

and very classy

compared to the other Soviet republics.

I don't want to belittle anyone

but it just stood out.

Estonia had an amazing rally culture.

There were lots of rally clubs in the 80s.

It's hard to estimate the exact number.

In every corner of the republic,

men tuned up their cars in garages

to face off in the weekends

and in every larger rally club

there was someone like me.

The biggest rally teams were.

ERF-Mobile, the Karksi kolkhoz club,

Sõprus, where the guys from Vihur raced,

Mõigu KEK and of course Harju KEK.

Harju KEK was especially great,

it stood out from afar.

Two best sportsman pennants

were awarded in November.

The winners were our rally crew

Heiki Ohu-Toomas Diener. Congratulations!

You have raced in Cypros, Greece,

Sweden and Finland.

We share a car since 1976.

Together we have competed

in 51 rallies, by my reckoning.

You need a calm disposition.

Everyone loses their nerve in our business

but you have to recover fast.

Heiki Ohu-Toomas Diener set the pace.

Toomas devoted himself

to building up Harju KEK rally team.

It's his life's work,

a great achievement.

I got the idea in 1979.

The director of Harju KEK told me:

"Toomas, we should build a house for you."

There were no other houses like that.

It was on another level.

The whole Soviet Union

didn't have a team at such a level

as the one Diener built.

Heiki Ohu and Toomas Diener

were the biggest media stars of the time.

They raced with Avtoexport

in foreign countries.

The Acropolis Rally Greece is in June.

We're leaving around mid-May.

Second place in class at the WRC event

is a decent result, we can be happy.

Soots had the most powerful engine so far.

Now we beat him by four horsepower.

The best car in the republic.

It was clearly a great club.

The best gear and VFTS-s from Vilnius.

I wanted to get to a decent club.

Hi, Tom.

Hi there.

We found each other.

What year did you come here?

In 1984.

The 1st of April, in spring.

For that time,

it wasn't the worst.

In my eyes and for that time,

it was a great house and a great team.

Yes, it was.

Good mechanics and engineers.

Working conditions were ideal here.

I don't know what I thought,

that I'd just knock on Diener's door?

I kicked the door open

and said: "Here I am."

"I want to drive fast,"

"but can't get an opportunity."

The stairs are the same.

I said, now here's a man

who gets you as many medals as you want.

But you have to be a great organizer

who can get me the tech

to bring home victories.

The 1984 USSR championship gold

goes to Ilmar Raissar.

Ilmar Raissar won the Tehumardi rally.

In the USSR championship of 1986,

in class A2,

Ilmar Raissar won silver.

Ilmar Raissar returned from Germany

with silver from the Pneumant rally.

Ilmar Raissar is again the USSR champion.

At the Chechoslovakian Rallye Tatry,

Ilmar Raissar won his class

and rose to second place overall.

What a great achievement!

The Eastern Block rally Sojuz 89

was overwhelmingly won by Ilmar Raissar.

It's near and dear to my heart.

Seeing these rooms, the territory

and the buildings, brings back everything

that happened 40 years ago.

Nothing has changed.

Like coming to work in the morning

to start building the car.

There were no pro athletes in the USSR, but

we worked for the enterprises that owned the rally teams.

Our workplace helps us a lot,

the chairman of the construction enterprise

and the head engineer

support us completely.

This is a sport you cannot do

with whatever you have at home.

You need a strong technological basis.

I have given a signature

in the DOSAAF Central Committee

acknowledging that I am a worker,

not a professional athlete,

and I haven't been paid for competing.

I was employed as a mechanic.

A mechanic or a repairman.

A mechanic.

They were the highest-paying jobs

you could register at the time.

I was employed as a welder.

We were well taken care of.

On a paper we did a lot of work,

so we got a high salary.

Moscow cursed us

for our unbelievable salaries,

the whole payroll went to Estonians.

We had a lot of audits.

We made 380 rubles,

but the brothers Bolshihh in Moscow

made 140 at first and 180 later.

We got 380.

Nowadays, buying a car is no problem,

just walk into a shop

and choose a model.

Either pay immediately

or over several years.

If you're struggling financially,

you can buy a used car.

But in the USSR, getting a car

was almost as complicated

as an Estonian getting into the NBA.

The kolkhozes, sovhozes and other enterprises

could get cars with a distribution plan,

but regular people had to

apply for a permit in their place of work

and wait in line for years,

until fortune smiled on them

and they could take their vehicle home.

Ten years. 1975 is still waiting.

Those who got in line at the end of 1975

are still waiting.

If I hadn't seen it myself,

I wouldn't believe it.

There are all sorts.

Some have waited for a year

and are very upset.

Others have been here 7, 8 or 10 years

and inquire very calmly.

As the permits were few and far between,

it was no wonder

that used cars sold on commission

cost more than new ones.

Cars for racing were distributed

according to the DOSAAF distribution plan,

but they only got a few per year.

Most people raced with their work car

or a personal vehicle.

But it was a different story

if a rally club had its crews

in the USSR team.

It was totally natural

that kolkhozes and other enterprises

maintained a useful connection

to a successful rally teams

with financial support.

That solved the problem

of where to get cars from.

It all benefited Estonian rally culture.

We didn't have a distribution plan.

If I wanted new cars, I asked.

I got along well with Avtoexport.

We got almost all our cars from there.

During these 10-15 years,

we got maybe a couple from Vihur

and a few VFTS-s from Brundza.

But mostly you'd go to Lada factory in Tolyatti

or the Volga factory in Gorky, Russia,

to get a Volga truck.

They were needed for fast service.

We counted them one time,

we got over a hundred cars

for the Harju KEK.

And KEK supported us thanks to that.

Everyone sighed with envy.

And these cars were cheap too.

If the car cost 5500 rubles in the shop,

the government price was 2000.

I had 18 cars on my account.

The accountant asked me to show

where the cars are. How should I know?

Check the yard.

What did we do with them?

There was nothing to do.

Some were training cars,

others were service cars

and some were competition cars.

We sold the old ones to the Soviet public.

Our milking brigadiers

drove my cars.

After all, the buyer was...

Even though they were cheap,

maybe 2000 rubles a car,

the buyer was the Karksi kolkhoz.

Enno Puks was the headman there.

Multiply that by 80

and it's going to hurt a bit

if you spend that much money.

But he kept all the cars.

They got him a decent milker.

Getting a worker at the time...

The farmers have trouble today,

and did back then, too.

You couldn't get anyone.

Most of them drank.

If he needed an agronomist,

that guy got a proper Lada.

A Lada as a work car

to drive between the fields. God.

We must transform farm life

so the young people want it,

it shouldn't be a place

that drives the youth away.

In foreign lands, a Zhiguli

was called Lada, short and catchy.

It was one of the few Soviet things

that, it was believed,

the other countries wanted to buy.

To sell the Ladas abroad,

they spend great sums.

As a part of the promotion,

the rally crews of the Soviet team

were sent to compete in countries

where Ladas were sold

to show off the car.

In addition to that,

they even paid large sums

to hire foreign drivers.

It must be said that Lada found

a small niche across the border.

Cheap and electronics-free,

they could easily be repaired by hand.

Welcome to the VFTS sanctum.

I appear to be the only one in Finland

who has any idea about the VFTS business.

Avtoexport led the whole thing.

All the resellers and representatives

had to take part in the sponsorship

and finance the operation.

I can show you the documents,

these were significant sums.

And Avtoexport...

All the importers had to participate

and in Finland that was Konela.

Konela and Avtoexport were Russian-owned

and Konela was part of the chain.

It just had a Finnish name.

They also imported other cars,

not just the Lada.

This is all factual data,

these are original documents.

Here's a strange thing,

Brundza's papers about engine pricing.

Sent to Lassi Sevón

at Konela-Auto, Helsinki, in 1981.

The engine cost 28 350 marks.

They used marks back then.

What could you get for 30 000 marks?

Maybe a studio apartment.

More or less.

Russian technology.

Speaking about rally cars,

the metal came from Russia,

but we almost made it into

an Europe-adjacent car.

What did we do? The bolts were screwed,

the mistakes in the planning

were rearranged.

What didn't work was replaced.

We welded over the whole car.

To hide the additional welds,

we drilled holes

in the welding spots.

That hid the marks.

But like they do it now,

welding a hole shut

and just letting it show,

that wasn't allowed.

You had to hide it.

We could only strengthen the suspension parts,

like control arms,

front axle mounts, that stuff.

That could be shown,

but nothing else.

Do you have the brackets here?

Were there brackets on this side?

No.

It had to look like a new car,

off the factory floor in Russia,

just come and drive.

Check the angle of this bolt.

It's like that.

Now look through here...

The other bolt comes up here.

You think it'll touch?

We did everything ourselves.

It wasn't like nowadays,

the driver points and they get it done.

We had to do everything ourselves.

We had mechanics helping too,

but I built all my racing engines

and gearboxes.

Every team tried to

hide their technology.

They didn't want to reveal it.

Toivo Rühka did ventilation for the breaks.

They competed in Europe

and saw how it was done on Lancias.

Our guys for example...

We were the first in Estonia

to put ventilators inside the hub.

A ventilator inside the wheel.

As the car moved,

it created a drought, cooling the disc.

The discs were red hot.

After a race,

the car glowed like the sun.

Brake fluid could boil.

That had to be avoided.

We installed ribbed ventilation discs.

We worked hard to invent that

and didn't want to show the others.

The biggest secret was the camshaft.

You didn't just pass that on.

Showing it isn't much use,

looking costs nothing.

That needed a precision workbench.

Even Vihur had

a bench for copying camshafts.

You brought out your caviar

and god knows what else

to buy a Bulgarian or Czech camshaft

and copy it over here,

make a copy of the camshaft.

I didn't sell that to anyone.

Our camshafts came from Brundza.

We made all the cars the same.

The engineers, mechanics,

or everyone else who built the cars,

they didn't know where the car goes.

Everything had to be done

so it drives well.

Brundza's camshafts were all numbered.

Different models.

Maybe five or six different ones.

We started with camshaft no 6

and ended our career

with camshaft no 3.

As for number 1 and 2,

it's easy to guess

who had those.

Number 1 was definitely Brundza's own

and number 2 was Eugenijus Tamulevičius.

Did you just invent by yourself?

We did it by trial and error,

lightening all the details.

Can't make it too light

or something might break.

We used duraluminium and titanium,

extremely expensive by today's standards,

but during Soviet times

it was quite easy to get these materials

from the factory.

They filed things down.

They used other materials.

Even the caliper pistons are titanium.

All the switches we put back

are placed just like he did it,

they're all the same.

This is the auxiliary lights panel.

It should be under the handbrake.

This way.

This sheet metal is original,

built in Harju KEK at that time.

The same guy who made the original

built this new cover.

Ilmar Raissar has found these switches now.

Phosphorescent white dots.

They glow in the dark.

Starter and ignition.

They're just how Ilmar made them.

Ilmar got us period-accurate tape,

the wires are bundled

exactly as it was before,

to look authentic and original.

The wires have almost all survived,

almost original,

like it came from Lithuania.

With the wires, we tried to use

as much old Lada wiring as possible

to keep it authentic,

like it was back then.

As much as we can...

Brundza's schematics are a bit primitive,

not everything is specified.

As much as we could discover,

we tried to build it exactly the same

as it came from the factory.

The aluminium hood is original.

The doors were hollowed out to the max.

We even drilled holes in the bolts

to reduce the mass, imagine that.

That was not allowed,

but we had to make the car lighter.

All the partitions were lightened.

We took off what we could.

Like sitting in a tin can,

it dinned and boomed.

There was no way

to go to the shop

and buy materials.

It came from Leningrad,

from a military factory.

These materials were made

for planes, tanks,

ships and who knows what else.

You could get decent aluminium

from the local pilots.

Propellers, excellent material.

These are wheel hubs.

Later, they used aluminium hubs,

these were pretty light,

plane aluminium.

It must have been good material,

a plane propeller after all.

We cut pieces out of the blades,

planished out the details.

Copied from the original,

just using a propeller.

The chain tensioner in the engine,

the generator bracket, front wheel hubs.

An AN-2 propeller was shaved down

to only a few chips.

We used all the pieces.

Valve plates were made of propeller.

I won't say by name

who went to the airfield to pick them up.

Of course, Junior! I was called Junior,

old friends do it to this day.

Like all the youngsters,

I got the tasks the others didn't want

and I had nothing against it.

I did it all.

I remember him well.

Harju KEK suddenly had

a strapping young lad, Ivar Raidam.

He started out

as an errand boy and underling,

but fortunately they allowed him to drive

and he immediately found his calling.

At first, I used to

wash and fill up the cars of the bosses.

There's no harm in that.

That was an education in itself.

I was really glad

to be right about Raidam.

He ended up an 11-time Estonian champion

and before the fall of the USSR,

he went to their championships

and snatched two gold medals.

In Group B cars the pace was set

by Ilmar Raissar-Rein Talvar of Harju KEK,

number 6,

Ivar Raidam-Maano Mardisalu, number 44.

For Raidam and Mardisalu,

it was the first race together.

Ilmar was the lead driver.

I got a pat on the back,

you've got time, they said.

22 was really young at the time.

It feels normal today,

but in all sports at that time,

in rally and formula racing,

the top guys were over 30.

We happened to arrange

that he'd get an amortized propeller.

As with all planes

and racecars,

each detail has a lifespan.

Once the flight hours reached their limit,

the propellers were smuggled away.

But time wasn't up for the propeller

we were supposed to get and

the warehouse man brought a brand new one.

Seems like complete insanity now.

Just regular smuggling.

You found the right people

who snuck it away for you.

I especially appreciated

that when the USSR dispersed

and the Estonian top teams along with it,

then after Diener quit,

Raidam officially founded

the Harju KEK rally club

and registered it

in the restored Estonian Autosport Union

as the first member club.

Everything used to work

under the Harju KEK construction group,

the rally team didn't legally exist

as there were no professional sports in the USSR.

I have always thought

that nothing is impossible

but people are incompetent.

If there is no way,

there must be some way.

Does the warehouse have

details no 50, 420, 20, 46?

Not at the moment.

Thank you, I'll inquire with state base.

Everything was a deficit:

tyres, rims, clutch.

Everything.

You couldn't buy piston rings.

Not even gaskets, nothing.

But connections got you everything.

Bolts came from the Leningrad rocket factory.

Karl Lell brought them in a plastic bag.

Ready-made rocket bolts,

made of titanium.

They were made there.

Titanium is near impossible to shape,

but they had the technology

to make titanium bolts.

I had access to the dockyards.

I needed beryllium copper.

I went in with a bottle of vodka

and came back with two bars.

Money got you nothing.

Vana Tallinn liqueur, smoked chicken

or smoked sausage.

That was normal.

One bigger example

that was brought from Estonia

was the Standard furniture set "Director".

That was very valued in Moscow.

Every important boss's office

had to have this modern furniture.

For smaller officials,

the red dry goods cans with white dots.

Life was interesting, but complicated.

As you couldn't buy alcohol

with a state money transfer,

the council of ministers developed

the souvenir set "Tallinn"

for companies and certain citizens.

That included Vana Tallinn liqueur

and Viru Valge vodka

but wasn't marked as alcohol.

Never-ending organisatorial work.

We went to Kaunas, Lithuania,

where they repaired BTR armored vehicles.

Got their axles

and made something out of them.

One time I went to Lithuania,

they told me:

forget about the axles,

buy the BTR, we'll dismount the cannon

and bring it to Kaunas hill.

They keep track of the cannons

but you could get a BTR.

If you knew someone,

you could have bought a submarine.

Many titanium parts came from Estonia

and almost nothing out of Russia.

Engine protection shields and stabilizers,

a lot of handicraft.

Not much remains of the original Lada,

if you think about it.

The body, lights and windows

and that's almost it.

Gearbox frames of course

and other similar things.

Exchanged for Western currency and goods,

whatever someone needed.

You couldn't get anything over here.

Always through Finland.

Finland supported us a lot.

Our law enforcement at the time

said quite publicly

that they know what we're doing,

that we take out titanium

and bring back rims and tyres,

but they won't throw rally drivers in jail for it.

To race at the highest level in the USSR,

you had to fight all sorts of absurdity.

Using connections and tricks

to get what you need

and building a spacecraft

out of nothing, as they say,

was understandable to an extent,

but sometimes life could be

like a drugged-up horse's dream.

Unlike the drivers, I managed

to stay out of this absurdity.

There were competitions

with training camps like this:

we wake up in the morning,

go to "a red corner"

and choose crews

who read Soviet propaganda newspaper aloud

to all the team members.

Estonians had to speak Russian.

When we went abroad with the Soviet team,

two Estonians sitting alone at the table,

just me and Eedo,

we had to speak Russian.

During Soviet times,

all the technical sports

like underwater swimming, shooting,

gliding, building model cars

and motor sports like motocross

and all sorts of car racing

were so-called national defense sports.

These were overseen by the DOSAAF,

the Volunteer Society for Cooperation

with the Army, Aviation and Navy.

That was a military organization

led by the USSR officers.

Next to speak was

the chairman of the Estonian DOSAAF,

Colonel Eedu Pallase.

Our DOSAAF has

over 540 000 workers and students

in over 2000 sub-organizations.

The all-powerful abbreviation DOSAAF

also managed Soviet rally drivers

and sent the crews they deemed suitable

to compete in races

in friendly socialist countries.

All these different rallies formed

a sort of Eastern European championship.

International rally "Russian Winter 81"

was opened in Moscow

in the Krolatskoye olympic channel.

The five best crews of each country paraded,

the USSR team had our own Vello Õunpuu,

Aarne Timusk, Eedo Raide, Georg Valdek.

For them it is the seventh and last leg

of the Cup of Peace and Friendship.

Cup of Peace and Friendship was sacred,

it was curated by the DOSAAF.

It was quite curious

that before each rally

we went to the DOSAAF in Moscow

to a reception with the generals,

and again after the rally.

Until the bosses at KEK

started paying for plane tickets,

we would sit in this car at 8 PM,

drove 1000 km to Moscow.

We left Tallinn at 8 PM,

got to Moscow by 8 AM.

Even a little sooner.

You could drive 160 km/h the whole way.

We only slowed down at the militsiya checkpoints

and not even for long,

you handed over the booze and carried on.

Naturally.

The speed limits came in 1984.

It felt like the end of the road,

no point driving a car now,

a bicycle would be faster.

Attention! Please present tickets

and baggage for flight no 8367.

The shortest reception was like this:

the general came and an aide said...

The general asked who we were.

What kind of a gang.

The aid said they're going to compete.

The general said: "Get to it, boys."

Said goodbye and left.

We had to go to Moscow and back.

Suits and ties, a reception.

We promised medals.

They asked if we needed anything.

That was the lamest question.

We knew you could ask,

but you never got anything.

A bold race from the start

from Eedo Raide and Georg Valdek,

car number 12.

Valdek was content in the checkpoint:

a solid basis for an eventual victory.

One time we asked for MAHLE pistons.

The general asked if the car had pistons.

We said we got pistons,

but the next rally is coming,

we're lowering the cylinder heads,

raising the compression ratio,

that's why we need other than Soviet pistons,

they break between the rings.

We need new MAHLE pistons,

these are stronger and better.

He listens and says:

"But you got the car with pistons."

"What happened to them?"

We said it's for the next race,

to put in the next car.

He tells the aide to write down

that we won't compete anymore abroad.

Then there's no need for new pistons.

I often thought

it's better to keep quiet,

I didn't dare say anything.

Last year's best crew in Soviet Estonia,

Eedo Raide-Georg Valdek,

just made it back from the Rally Spain.

You brought fame to Avtoexport and Lada

in several international rallies.

How do our cars hold up

among the world rally elite?

Looks like with each year,

the car gets better.

But others also improve new models

and the competition is quite fierce.

All my medals are in this box.

Soviet Union championship medals.

That's what they looked like.

How many do I put?

These are all Soviet Union medals.

Of course you take pride

in winning ahead of others,

it makes you proud.

One of the most emotional moments was a rally

in Czechoslovakia at the end of the Soviet era.

Second place overall, first in my class.

And during the award ceremony...

they played the Soviet anthem.

That brought a tear to my eye.

Because I didn't hear the Estonian anthem,

and didn't see the Estonian flag.

Yeah.

The competition was tough.

You had to work hard,

couldn't underestimate anyone.

Haven't seen Hardi for a while.

Haven't seen him for years.

We got along great.

He was one of my toughest competitors,

definitely my number one rival in Estonia.

Sometimes I beat him, sometimes not.

That's how it tended to be.

Hey, old-timer.

Hi, Hardi.

How's it going, hero?

Haven't seen you for ten years.

Maybe more.

Ready? We have a new team,

we're still young.

You always were my biggest rival.

Right back at you.

The others just hung around.

I can't say more.

We had a good physical form.

So we were a bit faster than the others.

Everyone was fast,

but we had more speed.

You did sports before.

Even now. I try to stay in shape.

I've gotten lazy.

Stop it! You look great.

I'd like to drive it.

At least try it out.

Go ahead.

Let's get going to Saaremaa rally,

you're coming too and that's that.

Let's do it.

Would I like to race again? Not any more.

My time has passed.

Yes, everything has passed.

We only live once. I'd do it.

Nothing to it.

Go ahead.

It won't kill me.

The car is a bit heavier than 30 years ago

because of me.

Looking at the car I used to drive,

it gives me a headache.

Dear god,

how stupid can someone be?

It smells like a drive.

It does. That's why I'll go drive it.

Not four gears, but five gears.

Yeah, five gears.

That could hamper you,

can't get in first gear.

I'll get in, if you allow.

Of course.

Did fifth gear also get stuck for you?

Because of the shift fork?

It happened in several races.

It only happened once, after

I started building the gearbox myself.

It was a shift fork problem.

Yeah, a linkage problem.

The shift fork, the crankshaft.

I tried it once,

it's very smooth.

And quite sharp.

Brings back memories.

Looking at your car right now,

it's basically exactly the same.

The winning car of the 1989 Sojuz rally.

Did you also brake with your left foot?

Very rarely. Mostly not.

I did it sometimes

when hitting a jump at speed

so as not to slow down.

You had to be fast.

I thought I shouldn't kill my speed.

I once sat beside Hannukainen in Finland,

saw how he drove.

He always braked with his left foot.

Their pedals were the same height.

The foot moved from left to right.

I told him too

that Lada isn't that kind of a car.

Not enough power

for a left-footed brake.

But about Ilmar,

he was always so calm and quiet.

Before the race started,

we all stood in line

and Ilmar slowly got moving,

inching toward his car.

Not a word, just listened.

Got in his car, put his helmet on

and then you saw taillights.

That was amazing.

Amazing indeed.

Over a whole year,

looking at the practice car's speedometer

along with technical equipment,

we get around 100 000 km,

with training and driving to locations.

In less than a month, Tallinn hosts

the best drivers from socialist countries.

During February 11-12,

the roads of Harju and Rapla

are the stage of rally Baltica 84,

the opening rally of the Eastern Bloc Cup.

The USSR team arrived yesterday

and this is their morning practice.

There were two kinds of foreign races.

Some crews from the Soviet Union team

raced through the DOSAAF

in socialist countries,

but a few lucky men

got to compete

in capitalist countries

in the European and World Championship rallies.

The lottery for getting to Western Europe

was held by Avtoexport.

No one knew for sure

how those going abroad were chosen,

neither then nor even now.

Capitalist countries were the draw

that everyone fought for.

It was financially profitable.

Daily allowance was in Western money.

We got 18 dollars per day.

A two-week competition

brought in a good sum.

You could bring one portable radio,

one stereo system.

Sell that and you got a year's salary.

We played a lot with the numbers.

I don't dare say much about it.

Even now.

We increased our daily allowance with gas.

Turned up the speedometer.

You were really privileged

if you could go abroad.

Competition for a spot in Avtoexport

was actually very serious.

These were the final standings.

Rüütel first, Raide second,

Heiki Ohu placed third.

Overall the competition was friendly,

but there was also a lot of backstabbing going on.

Someone always had to watch the car.

Keep an eye on it.

All the races are quite difficult.

Romania was one of the hardest.

Drove the second night without a clutch.

Then the rear axle came loose.

The three of us had to drive.

For the team.

"The Russian winter" had surprises in store.

We hit the stage,

the first day, the first stage

in the mountains of Thuringia.

We get to a descent.

Vello says: "Aarne, there's no brakes."

The brake hoses were both broken.

We drifted in the corners,

changed sides on the counter.

We got down the mountain like that.

Otherwise we would have

crashed into trees or houses.

We later saw the knife marks in the brake hoses.

We pulled ourselves together

and managed to get here.

Due to technical issues

we almost had to forfeit the race.

The spare windows were up there.

Axles and gearboxes

were mounted on the sides

and the back wall.

All the parts you could get at the time

were inside, at least one car's worth.

We have no photos of that side.

We put in a set of spare tyres,

the others go on top of the cabinet.

Some on the trailer and under the car.

We got authentic tyres and rims

that were used for racing.

We made this wall lower,

so you could see some stuff.

When going in and out,

you can grab the wall

and use it as a handrail.

They moved the ehxaust pipe up.

I was usually at the location

before the drivers

and I was pretty fast too, I thought,

but they never let me compete.

The wheel is as crappy as before.

It should be more this way.

It's very hard to drive in the mountains.

Getting to other countries

wasn't a problem for me,

but the drivers often found it

more of a challenge than the race.

Being faster on the rally

and part of the team didn't guarantee

that the gates would open for you.

You could drive like a young god,

but if the USSR state security committee

or the infamous KGB

didn't give you permission,

you couldn't get a visa

and had to be content with

showing off to a sixth of the world.

The tensest moments were

filling out the KGB applications

for a foreign passport each autumn.

A foreign passport for the "near abroad".

Even the names are in Russian.

You wrote your life story each year,

five copies by hand, without copy paper.

Maybe a dead relative had come back.

You had to write "dead and buried".

We sent 40 passport photos each year.

Once the application was submitted,

it was time for worrying:

do they accept or not? You never knew.

I learned to keep a copy for myself

to avoid mistakes next year

and keep it mostly the same.

Open the trunk, please.

Couldn't get to Sweden for three years

despite being in the main team.

We had to go to Sweden

so we took the passports to the embassy

to get a foreign visa.

All the passports were returned,

but they lost mine.

Three years in a row.

Where did it go?

No passport, no trip.

Another crew went in our stead.

They put in the backup crew,

Eedo Raide and Georg Valdek.

They went in our stead.

Once the team had left,

they found my passport. They called

and told me to pick it up.

We later found out

that their coach Aleksander Tõkke

was a KGB man. The names were made public

after the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Then we realized why that happened.

There were of course some...

stories and sayings that

there are too many Estonians in the USSR team.

Don't worry, we don't have to do anything,

you'll push each other out.

You'll kick each other out of here.

In addition to Moscow trying to

set men against each other,

you had to watch your step

when competing abroad.

When a Soviet citizens went abroad,

you had to keep an eye on them.

For this reason,

the KGB sent their agents to the rallies.

I was surprised they didn't put an agent

in the back seat during a stage

as the men could be talking about

forbidden things during the race

or planning to abscond with the car.

There were some guys in leather coats.

Even during the races,

in the Soviet Union championships.

I don't know who.

But we were watched constantly.

Just a fact of life.

It's normal with these regimes

for everyone to suspect everyone

and be kept on edge.

You know you're being watched

but you don't know exactly by whom.

There are some leather coats here.

Everything went swimmingly

until we started winning.

Then the problems started.

One morning we came to work,

preparing for a foreign race

and they didn't let us in.

The doors were locked.

They said the club can't keep us any more.

No reason was given.

All we found was

there was a fictitious complaint

that during the next foreign rally

me and my bro want to escape to a sect.

Someone stabbed us in the back.

Very directly.

It was easy to get rid of a rival.

Just say they plan to flee.

For us, they added a religious sect.

What on Earth? Mom was in church.

I grew up in a religious family.

Someone must have found it out.

It was so easy to get rid of someone.

I recalled that Jüri Kuusk

had a good rally club.

We knew each other from the taxi park.

I went to Jüri Kuusk

and he said okay,

but let's phone Moscow

and ask for an explanation.

So we phoned Moscow.

No one knew anything there.

Our visas were basically open,

no one had thrown us out.

We were still in the team.

It was the local committee's decision,

some internal Estonian business.

Jüri made it his mission,

looked into it.

He took us as his responsibility.

If something happens,

if we get visas

and defect to the West,

it will be curtains for him too.

He risked his neck for us.

Moscow said one other interesting thing:

there's no point in blocking any visas

for the Baltic drivers.

They'll kick each other out.

After 1987 I didn't trust anyone.

Honestly, I was frothing mad.

And we drove with that anger.

A familiar face! Glad to see you.

That's where you picked up speed.

From that lawn to that one.

Got a bit over 100 km/h.

A speed test, as they say.

I often think about these days.

It was a good time.

Of course it was.

I got a new Lada thanks to you.

We were just saying

that a lot of them went to Karksi kolkhoze.

I didn't see those.

The first one I got was a nice car.

Light and fast, strengthened frame.

And then it was 1988.

We got the second Soviet Union medal for Karksi.

The Eastern Bloc Cup race in Southern Estonia.

We got third place

and the major came to us

and said: "Here's how it is."

"We talked with Moscow"

"and you have three weeks to prepare"

"for the WRC rally in Jyväskylä."

Just like I lost my visa,

I regained it overnight.

Hi, Väints.

Listen...

It's all ready. Have at it.

But something is missing.

I see you've got something.

Yes.

The lanterns that light the way.

They belong with the car.

What else did you do here? Fantastic.

We could race right away.

Now it's as it should be.

We did a lot of night racing.

It was mostly nights.

No, really.

A few stages in the morning,

then a lunch break, and in the evening,

we went from 7 PM to 4 or 5 AM.

Especially in summer.

Winter was great, it was dark anyway.

These Eastern Bloc races

that were combined with European championships,

were all in the dark.

Poland, Czech Republic, Germany, Romania.

Two nights in a row.

Not a care in the world.

How long did you drive for?

The first leg was basically 38 hours.

There were two small breaks,

about half an hour,

to have a snack and eat something.

The second leg was a bit shorter.

We got some rest that night.

The second leg was 28 hours.

Now there are service breaks

during the day, but not then.

Only at the end of the day

you had a few hours for repairs.

Or the next morning, before the start.

During the day, we made repairs on the go.

The mechanics rode along.

There were no pit stops

on the side of the road.

There wasn't much time anyway,

the races were fast

and the liaisons long.

Bring back the manometer.

Hold down the brake!

Hold it!

I have to admit the men spent

more time with me than their families.

Bring me the tyre.

We were away from home

more than a couple hundred days a year.

Turn a bit more.

You hold down the brake.

Come on, come on!

Faster!

Why did you bring it here?

In addition to long racing periods,

there were training camps

all over the Soviet Union.

How much did you put? – 1.8.

How long do we have? - Five minutes.

Stop staring, bring the canister!

It's excellent under the hood.

Like it should be, like it used to be.

That's good.

The stick stays in place.

You know how the first gear...

Yes, the first one is up there.

I remember. Great.

Ignition and starter are there.

All right then.

Good luck across the sea.

We'll do our best

and try out the car.

I can already see it's good.

Maybe better than back then.

All the Estonians in the Soviet team

could have easily risen to the top

in different cars.

The Estonians are crazy.

Vello Õunpuu was the most talented,

he had a feel for the car.

He was of the same caliber

as some of the guys today.

Yeah, correct! Õunpuu!

Õunpuu was from my generation.

Rüütel was younger.

Õunpuu was practically my generation.

Some younger.

I got along great with him and his co-driver Aarne,

especially with Aarne Timusk.

We were friends.

They were great.

We competed together in Germany.

You got that right.

One event that drew crowds

and was appreciated by drivers

was the Saaremaa rally.

The races spread out over the summer,

some competed in the Eastern Bloc,

some in the WRC events.

The season ended in autumn, in Saaremaa.

Everyone wanted to go the island of Saaremaa.

And it brought the crowds.

The small ferries worked through the night

to bring people to Saaremaa.

I have a famous co-driver,

Simo Koskinen.

My brother's health is not the best

so I have the honor to drive

with a co-driver

who already has good results in Saaremaa.

It's a great honor.

The honor is mine.

My first Saaremaa rally was in 2004

in a Lada VFTS.

With Rainer Aus.

Means a lot to me too.

I'm happy to get this opportunity.

That's the right car for us.

Brings back good memories.

Right?

You get in and that noise, that smell...

Exactly like 35 years ago.

Smells like petrol?

Exactly the same smell.

Petrol, you said.

The smell of sweat and gasoline.

Sweat!

You're tired and sweaty after the race

and then some gasoline.

That's the buzz.

Welcome to the 80s.

Õunpuu was one of my idols.

Same here.

I never managed to race against him.

He finished a bit early.

A bit early, yeah.

I retired for a little while

when my health failed.

At the end of 1984.

I collapsed in England.

A bout of epilepsy,

although I had no official diagnosis.

But it started to come out.

We were disqualified in England.

In autumn 1984, in November.

At the stop sign in the checkpoint,

we just blazed through.

Timusk shut off the engine, held the wheel

and we didn't hit anyone.

We stopped further along.

But we were disqualified.

For not stopping at the checkpoint.

It was a closely held secret,

the problems Vello had.

I have to say that Aarne Timusk,

a former pro skier,

was a foolhardy man

for racing in the same car with him.

I was a bit scared

that it might happen during a race.

I was warned and scared

by my rivals,

but nothing ever happened.

I was invited to Moscow

to a sport institute.

They took some tests and said

that I have epilepsy

and I should forget racing, it's over.

Our Estonian friends ratted us out.

I don't want to see them even now.

They told on us out of envy.

They were scared of us, we were better.

There was an interview with Vello.

"Second by second".

He talks about the Soviet team.

For instance...

He was asked...

"A moment of doubt in braking"

"and you can still stay on the road."

"Another mistake while braking"

"and you end up in the woods."

"So drivers are calm characters."

"I appreciate straightforward"

"and honest people,"

"although in everyday life,"

"they are very hard to find."

"Such are Ohu, Soots, Raide,"

"the Mets brothers. Outstanding drivers."

He's praising me for some reason.

"Hardi Mets has the best feel for the car"

"and he's in great form right now."

"Head and shoulders above the rest."

I'm ready.

It fits you quite well.

The racing shoes were in the bag for 30 years,

Greek dust still on them.

And the size, forty...

46.

That's why you were fast.

There was no other choice.

And the balaclava? - From the same time.

Vello was one of the coolest drivers.

The most talented.

He was born to race.

It feels good.

First, he's a decent person.

You could always talk to him.

He was never jealous,

he taught others.

It's too bad he didn't get to race much.

Not against the grain.

Very nice. - Start, right three.

I couldn't find a place in life.

I had been racing for 12 years

trying to get somewhere.

I kept away completely for years.

Didn't watch or read anything.

When racing was discussed,

I changed the channel

or turned the page in the paper.

That lasted for years.

I don't want to name any names,

they don't bring me joy.

Even when we do meet,

I just nod and say hello.

There was a get-together in Estonia.

100 years of auto racing in Estonia.

A couple of months ago.

They were there, all preened up.

Let them be.

All athletes start and stop somewhere.

It was all natural,

no reason to make a scene.

New guys came along.

No one is irreplaceable in life.

New people will come, new stars.

Here's the official ceremony.

Vello Õunpuu relinquishes his seat

to the biker Aavo Pikkuus.

Vello didn't make a big deal out of it,

but he was a little sad.

Me too, but I don't remember much.

Here's Are Eller.

Pikkuus. And I don't remember him.

When Õunpuu left, they didn't want

all the legacy of Mõigu KEK

to be lost.

They were looking for a driver.

Of course I wanted to be the best.

It's totally natural.

You tried to do everything you could

to achieve that.

This year's Rally Estonia

was tense from start to finish,

more than any I remember.

Us and Aavo Pikkuus's crew

were fighting for seconds from the start.

We were tied three stages before the end,

the last three decided the victor.

We managed to win by a couple of seconds,

but it easily might have been Pikkuus.

He drove very well.

The road had no mercy on men nor cars.

We can only imagine

the stages on dusty roads

with tight intervals

and an average speed of 130 km/h.

Such a close competition

has never been seen in Estonia.

It was damn tough with him.

So tough. I don't want to talk about it.

I said: you got two kids, I have one.

Do what you want.

Nothing was left of our car

but the rear bumper on the next stage.

I don't want to talk about it,

But that's how it was.

The best times were

when we were traveling in Europe with Vello,

one country after another.

Many drivers have got ahead

with terribly hard work.

I have never loved it.

Not knowing what awaits on the road

is worth much more to me

than knowing everything in advance.

It enticed me a lot more.

It still does.

It hasn't gone anywhere.

It's in my blood and won't leave.

There's no cure for me.

Only the grave.

I can still see

how he left here, that last time.

I got the call that night or that morning.

We went rowing.

We enjoyed the beautiful weather

and Estonian nature,

enjoyed being in Estonia.

This was at that time with Vello.

He often came to see me.

He was worried about my health.

I later understood why he came so often.

I asked if he had business in town.

He just nodded.

But he really came for me.

It brings tears to my eyes.

But that's life.

You never know how long you have left.

He was the best Estonian driver of all time.

Why did I say goodbye to rallying?

I was still one of the best,

I could have kept competing.

I was already on my second marriage.

When Daniel and Lars-Erik were born,

I understood that my first kids

basically didn't see me at all.

It really struck me

when I had children again,

I understood...

that I shouldn't do that again.

And I quit rallying.

I don't like nostalgia for the old days.

It was beautiful what we did,

but there were also many problems

we had to struggle with.

I think I could still drive,

but I won't, on principle.

That part is done.

I don't want to wreck my nerves.

I might regret it later:

why didn't I do it more?

I could have.

I might get the appetite for racing again.

I might regret

not taking the chance.

And now it's time

to put your hands together.

Several times USSR champion Hardi Mets

comes to the podium with Simo Koskinen.

His original car has been restored.

Hardi participates in the Saaremaa rally.

Hardi, congratulations.

Thanks.

From 31st place to third.

You must be happy.

For sure.

It came as a surprise to me

when I heard about the car.

The same car from 1988,

from our last rally in Võru,

third in the Eastern Bloc rally event.

And now I'm here, 33 years later.

Does it feel the same

as in 1988?

Of course.

Hurry now to the final checkpoint.

Congratulations again.

Thank you.

Let's have a huge applause.

Hardi Mets drives his legendary car

across the podium.

Soon we can see it all in a film

about how the cars were restored

and why.

Such beautiful moments.

Let's check the pacenotes.

Let's do it.

Right, left, long straight, switchback,

straight, left, switchback.

Chicane.

Then left four, then...

right four.

Left, back left six,

then right, right ascent, left...

Gentle left, through the hole,

up the hill, brake, right three, left one.

I'm happy with everything.

It calms me down, the noise of the car

and being able to play with it.

Feel how...

hear the kitten purr.

It gets better every time.

The gearbox works well.

I know what to press and when.

The rear axle is a good combination,

might not even need to switch gears.

That's an advantage.

Start in second, finish in third.

Finish in fourth.

2:34.

Cool!

I'd like to go on.

Turn right from here. Exactly.

I'd do another lap if I could.

Exactly like 33 years ago.

Exactly.

How did it feel?

Cool, right?

The raw emotion is so cool.

I'd like it myself... Straight.

To be able to have a last race.

It's so...

The car was the biggest surprise.

I know what I've achieved with it,

all the victories in our time.

You see, it's...

Bubbling up.

Really makes your heart race.

Unbelievable.

And the crowd... Some must remember me.

Of course they do.

A lot of people from the older generation.

The youth doesn't know.

Straight through.

A nice coat of fresh paint.

I have to thank you.

Exactly.

Many thanks for this idea.

I went to the WRC Rally Estonia,

the service park at the Estonian National Museum,

this car was the first on display.

And I thought, yes!

Estonia had many good drivers in the 80s.

It's hard to say

who was the best and the fastest.

Every driver had their fans.

I'd say it was a cool time.

Many drivers. Because of the era,

drivers often didn't end up

in the same races.

It was hard to evaluate

how they would have matched up.

But for me...

When I got older, I remembered more.

Ilmar Raissar was the one who stood out to me.

I'm really glad

this car found its way to me

accompany the others.

If I had to deal with

any product of the Soviet Union,

this might be the only one

that would be kind of cool.

I remember it from my childhood,

although from a poster.

A poster would have been easier to get.

Few cars are built by the people

who used to drive them.

If I wanted any car, it would be.

Ilmar Raissar's, in Harju KEK livery.

I've worked with Raissar for a long time,

we were mechanics together.

That's where my knowledge comes from.

To be honest, the 80s drivers

were all iron men.

Nowadays we're like pro athletes,

we keep an eye on what we eat,

what we drink and how we drive,

but at the time it was all secondary.

The car had to be the lightest

and the fastest.

Only the stage time mattered.

Everything was done differently.

We finished the first city stage.

The car is great.

We would have risen to the top with it.

Simo sounds exactly like you.

He just needs a 3-D operation,

that's all.

Alright then.

That's all I had,

we'll try it out with you too.

The drivers from the 80s

laid the foundation

for Estonian rally racing.

I started my career in 2003.

Rainer Aus started at the same time.

Right from the start,

Vello Õunpuu trained one of my strongest rivals

during my youthhood years.

So we were more like competitors,

he didn't really support me,

but he helped me indirectly,

Forcing me to do better.

That car has great emotional value for me.

Me and Õunpuu are both from the same island.

In 2019 I fulfilled my life goal

and became a world champion.

And that's why this Lada should be here.

2019 is the key moment

this driver from Saaremaa has reached,

fulfilling his life goal.

It all started at the end of the 70s,

with the start of Vello's career.

He brought us the rally fever.

Looking at the big picture,

I started racing because

my father raced.

Why did he start racing?

Because of Vello, and so on.

It's all connected.

To see this car now,

the beginning of it all,

next to the car

that earned fame for Estonia

thanks to this Lada...

It's an amazing sight.

I have made a decision.

That I will throw away everything old from my head.

Only the memory of you will remain.

And that will also be extinguished soon.

But am I able.

To keep my promise.

Because I will see you again and again.

When the TV screen lights up.

During the breaks, everyone tried

to keep an eye on Avia

so she wouldn't fall apart.

If you haven't realized yet,

that's me - Avia.

A nice familiar view in the mirror.

I can see the tailpipe.

Every era has its cars,

its drivers and teams.

Once you finish with the Lada

and you're over forty,

you have the financial means

to get a powerful car

and you start racing with the young guys,

ticking along in the top ten,

that's not racing.

It's better to leave.

Are you happy with the result?

What did we get?

2.34.

What about the others?

Compared to them?

We were a bit slower.

But we were the fastest Lada.

There weren't any others.

They are back there.

2.34 is a good time.

It's clear the car is good.

It drives fast.

I'm very happy they fixed it up.

Not a bit worse than in our days.

Some details could have been different,

but we're not here to race.

The car is intact, our purpose fulfilled

and I got an emotional high.

You did? - Yes.

That's the main thing. - Thanks.

Thank you.