Welcome to the Homepage of Endaf Owens Racing

    Rarely has a driver arrived in the Mini Challenges and so quickly become and integral part of it. Endaf Owens took the plunge in 1998, buying Ian Gunn’s Mini Miglia, the car that had won the championship in 1993 and has consistently been a frontrunner since. Endaf had already enjoyed Motorsport success,  Autograssing between 1994 and 1997 in a Class 5 Mini Pick-up and later in ultra-rapid Class 7 bike-engined saloons. He quickly consolidated he skills and reputation.

            Stepping into circuit racing the initial indications were good. He had acquired and excellent competitive car, had learned how to race and win, and grass racing had installed the confidence in driving a car on the very edge. Furthermore, as a borne and bred (and proud) Welshman, he was already integrated into the group of Mini Challenge racers hailing from that part of the UK – principle among them that sprawling Hayman, and Grayer outfits.

            It didn’t take long for Endaf to show his hand. The driving skills were immediately apparent and his infectious enthusiasm, optimism, and warmth made him a hit in the paddock. Instantly he belonged and, very quickly, the established operators in the formula were lending help, advice, even parts and labour. I’ve always said the Mini Se7en Racing Club is a friendly environment but never had it been demonstrated more clearly. It took him until 2001 to start winning races, but his characteristic last-minute preparation of the car indicated that it might have been a while longer before he could also achieve the necessary consistency.

            During 2001, still driving the ex-Ian Gunn car, Endaf finished fourth in the Dunlop Mini Miglia Challenge. He won the first race and the last of that year appeared to be on the verge of a breakthrough. Indeed, it looked all set for 2002. A fresh car with crowd-pleasing Cadbury’s livery, under a four-car team banner, promised much but ultimately delivered little, with a seventh in the final standings not matching anyone’s expectations.

            He had a rethink for 2003 and appeared at the Autosport Show at the NEC in January with an all-new Mini. Surely this was the real deal. First pictures of the project appeared in MiniWorld – Endaf and Colin “Piglet” Lewis inside the bare ‘shell, complete with comedy grins. Inevitably, building the car became a race against time and, in the workshops of Rightline Motosport – one of his long-standing supporters – plenty of late nights were endured as Mark Wanstall, Gavin Lane and Endaf built the ‘shell. Next it went to Peter Vickers’ Altered Image Coachworks for painting inside, outside and underneath. Finally it returned to Wales for assembly. Most observers said it couldn’t, and wouldn’t, be done. As usual odds were defied and they made it to the NEC. Seven weeks to get from bare donor ‘shell to complete, ready-to-race Miglia is some achievement.

            So there they were in Birmingham, with a new ca that had never turned a wheel – but this was no static display. The Mini Se7en Racing Club were strutting there stuff in the Live Action Arena, providing two shows on the Friday and five on both Saturday and Sunday when the public attendances are always huge. In the tight confines of an indoor arena, bordered with concrete walls, racing on a shiny painted surface with cold slick tyres, it might have seemed like the wrong place to debut the car, especially one that’s still in need of a thorough suspension set-up. Not to Endaf. He was widely acknowledged as a star,  on occasions, taking his turn at leading and following (as was scripted) and entertaining the masses with “Scandinavian flick-turns”. At the end of the show, the car was intact, undamaged and we were still two and a half months short of the racing season. For the rest of us hoping to challenge for the title in 2003, I reckoned that meant bad news. Surely, for the first time ever, Endaf had finished his preparations early – he wouldn’t arrive at the circuit with his customary list of outstanding jobs, including fitting the arches…

            Endaf and I meet up at Llandow race circuit, near Cardiff, three days before the first race of the 2003 season. My car is still not quite ready, but I’m looking forward to driving a fully fettled machine. I’m the first to arrive at the track – that usually happens hen you’ve travelled 300 miles from home. Endaf who’s travelling just a few miles, arrives half an hour late, unloads the car and … starts adjusting the suspension. Still, we’ve got all day.

            After some last minute finishing, I jump into my race suit and settle in the seat. Endaf acknowledged that this was the very first thing to be positioned when laying out the car, and it is perfect for me. I’m well back in the ‘shell, behind the B-post, with my legs out straight and the wheel positioned high up in front of me and close. This allows the arms to work comfortably, never reaching, but they’re high enough to avoid getting your elbows jammed in your lap. The gear lever sits up high to my left, atop an imposing tower. It is a bespoke installation not featuring any Rover components. My view out is perfect; it’s a cosy feeling, as though you’re just peeping over the dashboard and are untouchable.

            The car fires up, and the race-bred sensation feed through the chassis and into my body. About 20 years after I first started doing this, it still gives me a buzz. There is a raspy bark to the engine and a ring from the exhaust that would stop passers-by in there tracks. Out on the circuit, the unique features of this car a different feel to that to which I am used to. The clutch feels lighter and the shift is ultra short and tight. The ergonomics of the car feel very different to me and, for a lap or two it’s real characteristics are hidden.

            Just when I’m beginning to wonder, I suddenly get it – this is really no different to any other Miglia; it just feels different. Taking the car more by the scruff of the neck, it starts to oblige. Llandow has a fair measure of bumps – enough that you pick the flattest line into the breaking area for the chicane. It feels less than comfortable here, but we’re beginning to get acquainted. In the slow stuff, traction is a big problem, with the unloaded front wheel flaring up badly. This turns out to be caused by a rear roll bar problem that we can’t resolve at the track but, none the less, it illustrates just how important is every part of the package.

            The Engine is a joy. Strong and torquey, working in the 6000-8250rpm range, it is clearly as good as any other in the field. Built by Endaf, Hew Beynon and Hew Scofield, it’s a working example of what can be done with modest components, assembled with care. The head and the cam are bang-on, and it’s these parts which determine the output, providing that everything else is doing its job well. After a dozen or so laps hanging on under breaking and tip-toeing through the tight and twiddly bits, I call it a day.

            Now for the good bit: watching Endaf. Given the traction problem, he could simply head for the workshop. No Chance and what a spectacle. He completes 10 laps or so, probing at the extremities of adhesion and centrifugal force. It’s inspiring.

            You might feel a sense of “if only” where this car is concerned, but then it wouldn’t be the same. Endaf is unique, a born entertainer, a friendly and inviting soul with fantastic fabrication skills and awesome driving technique. Entertainment all the way; isn’t that what it’s all about?

 Words by Bill Sollis for the July 2003 edition of Miniworld.