► Passenger ride in 1977 Monte Carlo Rally class winner
► 142bhp
► This or a Skoda Fabia?
Skoda may have been slotted into the more ‘value-focused’ part of the VW Group spectrum, but pre-VAG it had a rich, storied history in motorsport – and every so often it wheels out an incredible piece of machinery to remind us of the fact.
That’s why we’re sitting in a vintage 130 RS rally car just a few moments after we’d been driving the new Skoda Fabia Monte Carlo. Built in ’76 and a class-winner at the 77’ Monte Carlo rally that takes place on the roads we’ve been driving, the 130 RS is a world away from the considered hatchback we’ve been chucking around hairpins for the last 45 minutes.
Sitting in a tent next to a fleet of Skoda’s including the Enyaq, it’s like an insane older relative that’s both unrefined but clearly still full of adventure. After climbing in and donning a co-driver spec helmet, it’s time to meet Matthias Kahle, someone particularly in tune with the car’s limitations.
Light and agile
Rear-wheel-drive and with a plucky rear-mounted four-cylinder the Skoda 130RS is firmly in the lightweight category – and its tail-happy weight bias means should be suited to the hairpins around here. Either way, the torniquet tight five-point harness pinning to the passenger seat suggests it’s got some serious performance.
Fire the engine up and you’d be forgiven for thinking there’s something meatier than the 142hp behind you. Suspended at the rear of the Skoda, it’s mounted in an agricultural fashion – and every decibel it makes is senet directly to my core – it’s more visceral once we’re on our way.
The noise of this thing is electric from the off. Soon the whir of straight cut whir of the race-spec box joins the symphony as Matthias selects the first of four gears – and he tells me a little more about the ‘stage’ we’re doing. It turns out the roads are public, so we won’t be doing silly speeds, and it’s a road already used in the Monte Carlo rally. Thick tyre marks on the approach of our first hairpin suggest he’s telling the truth.
So what’s it like?
In a word, incredibly grippy. A cocktail of 70s’ tech, a dodgy road surface and a sprinkling of rain, isn’t enough to get the 130 RS unstuck at these speeds. Turning at increasingly acute angles, I waited for a loss of traction at the rear, but it never really came. There were a few moments of oversteer, but nothing Matthias wasn’t easily able to collect up and then correct.
At the end of the route, we dip two wheels on the gravel offline, Matthias pulls the handbrake and an invisible hand seems to swivel the car on its axis. It’s the most the car has slid on the entire route, but it feels like the most routine part of the experience.
Rally cars need to be predictable, grippy and easy to drive, and at road legal speeds the composed, adjustable nature of the 130 RS should’ve been expected. Still, an incredible opportunity, nonetheless.