While a hell of a lot can be said of the Benalla Auto Club's enthusiasm and cheerfulness - I for one really enjoy coming here - the Monaco Grand Prix it ain't!

What's the solution then, other than dirtying your faded denim jeans on the remarkably sticky north east Victorian mud? Well for the locals it's a case of 'bring your own'.

Some of the constructions that scores of racing fans are perched perilously on top of are truly ingenious in their jury-rigged design and robust practicality. Few, however, would meet even Nigeria's minimum safety standards.

One of the more solid structures, dubbed rather erroneously 'The Great Southern Stand' (it's actually located on the eastern end of the circuit), is a particularly impressive setup. Brian, a Benalla lad, owns a mighty Western Star prime mover which spends the majority of the week hauling cargo interstate. One of his drivers, Nev, saw a far more 'practical' use for the 300 hp machine, however.

Nev and Brian came up with the idea of putting a flat trailer on the back of the Western Star and loading up with an assortment of essential creature comforts: three couches, half a dozen deck chairs, a barbecue, and at least eight Eskies (all full, needless to say, with a certain amber-coloured fluid housed in green cans).

The Great Southern Stand crowd were equipped with everything you could possibly need for a day at the races. In fact the boys would have been adequately equipped to survive your average nuclear holocaust as well. Some had even brought along their own sheila, just in case.

"We did the same sort of thing last year with the bloke I drive for part time - well, we borrowed his prime mover and another guy's trailer, grabbed a bit furniture lying around and that was it really." Nev modestly explains. "It's not too shabby, really." Not too shabby at all, I reckon, as I'm offered a seat on one of the couches. I doubt whether I could have found a more comfortable spot to watch a car race anywhere in the country.

And comfortable it needed to be. Most of the people enjoying the view from the back of the Western Star had camped on or near the structure overnight. Winton is not renowned for being particularly mild at night in winter and this weekend was no exception, with rain, wind and mud - inches of it, not to mention one or two minor incidents during the night.

"Yeah, it was a bit of harmless fun - the odd fire cracker going off, cans blowing up. There was a bit of riot happening at one stage, some sort of a fight, but nothing too major. Just harmless fun," Nev explains.

While the boys (and one or two girls) are pretty good mates, there remains precious little interaction between two obvious factions. At the northern end of the trailer Nev sits with his mate Rick, both decked out in the Blue Oval livery of the Ford Motor Company. At the southern end sit Jeff, Simon, Pat and Anthony, firmly rooted in the Holden camp - and never the twain shall meet, it would seem.

"I don't care who wins so long as it's a Ford," says Rick, who is celebrating his 36th birthday over the weekend. "And as long as it's not bloody Lowndes." "If it's going to be a Holden that wins, I'd like Perkins to do it," Nev admits. "I like the older blokes who've been doing it a while, they're fairer drivers, not like the young pricks who are like 'get out of the way or I'll run you off'."

Sentiments at the other end of the trailer couldn't be more opposite. "I like Holdens, hate Fords - don't care who drives them - if you're driving a Ford you can rack off," Simon says.

Not surprisingly Lowndes is the hero at this end, although Garth Tander and Russell Ingall have a reasonable amount of cred too.

"At least they have a go!" Jeff says. "Not like bloody Seto."

Pat is something of an exception. He likes all forms of motorsport, from Indycar and Formula 1 to Supertourers. "These are the best though!" he says quickly, as he cops a bit of stick for mentioning the dreaded 2-litre 'buzz-boxes'.

Splitting the two factions are some of the less committed, including Sonya, Dean and Tracy. "This is my first time here," Tracy says. "That makes me a V8 Virgin."

For most of the day Nev and Rick have had the best of it with Glenn Seton finishing second and first in the first two races. In the third they are quietly confident as the V8 daisy chain, headed by Seton, disappears behind the embankment that hides the new part of the track.

A roar goes up as the cars re-emerge. Ford favourite Seton, along with Tander, has disappeared from the lead and Jason Bargwanna now heads the pack.

"That mongrel Tander has punted Seto off," Rick accuses as he nearly drops his beer and smokes in disgust.

"I told you Seto's a hack," chortles Simon from the other end of the stand.

As I leave the Western Star I am moved by just how civilised the whole setup is. At that exact moment a police car slowly cruises past followed, just out of sight of the coppers, by a WB Holden ute with three young blokes 'mooning' the crowd. A cheer goes up and I shake my head. Welcome to Winton!/P>

If anyone is in any doubt as to who or what these people come here to support, a quick scan through the makeshift car park will dispel any illusions. While a number of so-called experts talk about motorsport personalities, the real heroes in V8 Supercar are Ford and Holden. There are paddocks of Falcons, Commodores, Toranas, Kingswoods and Cortinas, and every one seems to have a spoiler and set of mags. Even a rusty old "poverty pack" XF Falcon GL has a set of shiny 12-slotters. Probably cost more than the car... The earth begins to shudder as the ominous 'Thump! Thump! Thump!' bass of a massive car stereo blares out from a completely overcooked VL Commodore slowly circulating around the back of the circuit. Or should I describe it as 'a car formerly known as Commodore' because there is so much bolt-on fibreglass on the machine that a Holden designer would scarcely recognise it. I chuckle to myself about the quaintness of these people and their prides-and-joy. I am still chuckling as I climb into my EA Falcon with its big rear wing, chrome mags, Ford Motorsport stickers and crank up a bit of Cold Chisel on the stereo.