In many car racing computer games your entitlement to drive particular classes of car has to be earned through proving your driving skill, rather than just the accumulation of money.  It strikes me that actually this is a fair and sensible approach, and one that highlights just how inadequate and antiquated our current system is.  At the moment we only have one driving test, which is a simple yes/no answer to the question “did this person meet the minimum requirements on the day of the test”.  The same driving test entitles someone to drive a rusty old Vauxhall Corsa, or a Bugatti Veyron.  There’s something wrong there, methinks.

And so, as I drove along in my Ford Escort, I worked out the finer details of my idea to revolutionise driving tests, licences and car manufacture.  To my surprise and delight, it looks like it might actually be a good idea!

The aim of this system is to ensure that people do not end up driving cars that they are not capable of controlling safely.  Take, for instance, a 17 year old driving a Focus RS.  Or an elderly man erratically towing a caravan and taking up all three lanes of the motorway in the process.  Somehow our society believes that it is our human right to be allowed to drive whatever car we like, which I’m not sure I agree with.  It certainly doesn’t tally with other areas of life; a GCSE grade E does not entitle you to the same standard of job as a First level degree.

This is not intended to be a practical limitation to people, nor a discrimination on those with expensive taste; all types of car should be available to all people (within reason), and people with deep pockets should still be able to drive in a luxurious mobile hotel if that’s what they want.  My point is that money alone shouldn’t buy performance.  A wealthy businessman can buy a Mercedes if he wants, but it’s conceivable that he might not be a great driver, so shouldn’t be let loose with millions of horsepowers.

My idea would be to split cars into four categories, or levels, each one accessible only by passing a further driving test to prove your driving ability.  Before I go into the details of how to achieve all this, here is a breakdown of each level.

Level 1

This is where every new driver would start off, and is where they would stay if they were over-cautious, nervous, or unskilled.  Think of it as a ‘beginners’ class, for people to whom driving does not come naturally.  Or for people who just can’t be bothered to upgrade because the higher levels hold no attraction for them.  The driving test would be pretty basic, just making sure drivers were safely able to control the car, so not too dissimilar from the current test.

At this level you would be entitled to drive cars with a low power to weight ratio, like a 1.2L Fiesta or a 1.6L Focus.  Pretty much all type of car would be found here, including superminis, hatchbacks, saloons, estates, people carriers, small pickups, small 4×4s and small vans.  The low power to weight ratio ensures that the car is safe and easy to control at all times.  Further limits would include no towing of trailers or caravans, and no rear wheel drive.

Level 2

This level describes an ‘average’ driver, and is where most drivers would probably sit.  It could also be described as an intermediate qualification, for people who are fairly confident in their driving ability and able to demonstrate some maturity too.  The driving test would be a little more advanced, a bit like the existing Pass Plus test, making sure that drivers not only met the minimum requirements but were also reliable and effective in their driving, showing themselves to be able to control the car in all weathers and have some basic car maintenance knowledge.

All previous car types would be available, plus large pickups, large 4×4s, large vans and minibuses.  Cars with a better power to weight ratio would be allowed, like a 1.6L Mini or a 2.0L Mondeo.  Towing and rear wheel drive would be allowed, as well as the option of a turbodiesel engine.

Level 3

This level is for the more advanced driver, the driving enthusiast.  The driving test would show the driver to be more skilled than average in their car control, and might include a outing to a skid pan, a demonstration of cornering ability, clean and efficient gear changes, and a good general knowledge of basic engine functionality.  Very few people would need this level, so its only purpose really is for enthusiasts, those who want to use the achievement as a status symbol, and people who relish the thrill of driving a sports car.  Because experience also comes into play at this point, we might introduce a further limit whereby you must have at least 5 years driving experience to even take the test.

Cars at this level would have a higher power to weight ratio and would introduce sports models like a 2.5L Focus RS or a 4.0L V8 BMW M3.  These are cars that in the wrong hands could be difficult to handle and potentially dangerous, hence the need to prove yourself capable.  Petrol engines would also have the option of being turbocharged, even supercharged, and you’d be able to vary the level of traction control (i.e. turn it off for track days).

Level 4

This is where the serious drivers live, with skill levels almost at semi-professional.  These are expert drivers, with a true passion for motorsport and a natural aptitude for precision driving.  The test would therefore include advanced driving techniques such as controlling powerslides (drifting), choosing the best racing line, heel-and-toe and double-clutching, left foot braking, and some experience both on a racing track and offroad.

The cars you’d expect to find at this level are the best of the best.  The supercars.  Vehicles with a very high power to weight ratio, like a 3.8L Porsche 911 Carrera S or a 4.5L Ferrari 458 Italia.

Now for some further details and caveats.

Obviously there are some people who are not going to like this idea.  For that reason, I’m happy for the government to steal my idea; I don’t mind not getting official credit for the idea, because it means I won’t get the hate mail as well.  I’m fully aware that there are car enthusiasts out there who love cars, especially the powerful ones, but are not competent drivers, who will feel that they are being unfairly discriminated against.  They will no doubt argue that although the car has a big engine they don’t ever use all that power so it’s no more dangerous than a Prius.  My argument, however, means that it is not illegal to own sports cars without a suitable licence, just to drive them on public roads.  If you want to own a sports car and drive it on a track or private land, you go right ahead.

Then there is the modifiers community, who love to take ordinary cars and pimp them up with bodykits and massive engines.  Well, I have nothing against you modifying your cars, in all honesty I’d do the same if I had the time and money.  But the classification of your car may have to change as a result of the modifications you make.  With this in mind, we would have to introduce further tests as part of the yearly MOT to make sure the power to weight ratio hasn’t been changed too far for it to need reclassifying.

I’d also like to clarify why I keep going on about power to weigh ratios instead of horsepowers.  Remember that the amount of power an engine develops only makes a car powerful in comparison to its weight.  A 100hp engine in a tiddly little Saxo will be pretty racy, while the same 100hp in a hefty 7-seater people carrier might not really be enough.  So classifying cars on their power to weight ratio ensures that we are dealing in the effective power rather than the crankshaft power, which makes it more relevant.  In the MOT, cars would have to be put on a rolling road to test their power and then weighed to get the necessary statistic.

This also has implications for insurance companies.  Drivers with a high level licence who choose to drive a lower level car could be given discounts, having shown themselves to be safer behind the wheel; I’d see that as a much more reliable judge than a person’s no-claims bonus.  In the event of an accident, if the driver was found to be driving a car in a higher class than their licence permitted, their insurance would be void and null; police could also impose fines if they found people driving cars they weren’t authorised to drive, maybe even taking them down a level.

When it comes to those additional tests, this ties in with something I’ve thought for many years – I think compulsory retests are a good idea.  They could be introduced gradually, but it would be great if we could make sure that everyone was retested at least once every 10 years.  A lot can happen in 10 years, after all.  Further tests would all be optional, of course.  People who drive for business may be required to have at least Level 2, but that shouldn’t be difficult to achieve for most people so that’s not going to be a problem.

A quick word about turbos.  My dear friend Phill commented on a previous rant of mine saying how he has justified choosing a car with a turbo fitted.  This is not a direct get-back at him, I must stress.  And it must be understood what the difference is between a turbo on a petrol engine and a turbo on a diesel engine.  These days, turbodiesels are commonplace and do not represent a sporty or excessively powerful engine.  A normally-aspirated diesel engine (i.e. one without a turbocharger) has a narrow power band, poor efficiency, lumpy power transmission, excessive CO2 emission and is pretty noisy.  Adding a modern turbocharger transforms the engine into an efficient purr, and has made it very popular in many saloons and even some sports cars.  I therefore see no reason not to allow a Level 2 driver to have a turbodiesel vehicle, because it doesn’t present a particularly high risk or require additional skill to control.  A turbocharger on a petrol engine, however, is an entirely different monster.  A normally-aspirated petrol engine typically has a wider power band, revs happily and develops a good amount of power, and still manages to be relatively efficient.  Adding a turbo massively increases power output, often makes it quite wild and harder to control, and usually negatively impacts fuel efficiency too.  Giving an everyday driver access to these sorts of turbos is not a good idea, hence why Level 2 allows turbodiesel but not petrol turbo.  There is method to the madness.

So what happens if you take a routine retest and get downgraded to a lower class?  Naturally, you wouldn’t be expected to walk home, so I imagine there would have to be a suitable amount of time between your reclassing to allow to you sell your car, or take another retest.

There are also implications for the car manufacturers, who would be encouraged to make sure they have models in each category.  This means making a luxurious Mercedes Benz that can be graded in Level 1, so that Mr Director can turn up to his business meetings looking the bee’s knees despite his inability to qualify for a Level 2 licence.  Obviously, there are limits to this; no purist will be happy to see an Aston Martin fitted with a teensy weensy 1.6L engine.  Also, it’s clear that it would be unfair to apply these classifications to cars already on the market, so it would have to be something introduced to new cars.

Finally, I want to make it clear that I’m not out to make life more difficult for everyone.  I just want to make the roads safer, by ensuring that those people driving sports cars are actually capable of controlling them.  This new system doesn’t cater for farm or heavy machinery, heavy goods vehicles or motorbikes, incidentally; they’d have to have their own rules, as they do already, so in all likelihood they wouldn’t be affected by any of this.

I’d be interested to hear your views on this idea.  Do you see potential flaws in the system?  Is there anything else you’d add?  Leave your comment.  Drive safe.

And the A303 is a fantastic road to experience that reality.  I’ve been driving on it a lot recently, and each journey has built upon the last my love and appreciation for what, for many, is just a road.  You see, the A303 isn’t like a motorway.  It’s slower, certainly, but it’s more scenic, more interesting to drive, and requires more skill to navigate effectively.  Now, I’m not saying that you have to be a qualified driver to make it all the way down the road, it’s not exactly precarious, but being a Driver means I can appreciate and embrace all the twists and turns, the adverse cambers, the ever-changing gradients, the varying speed limits, the wavering lane widths, the unpredictable surface quality.  For someone trying to get from A to B, the A303 is an inefficient pain in the neck that urgently needs resurfacing and making dual-carriageway the entire length of it.  And that’s why I love it so.

On Friday we went to Exmouth to visit my grandparents.  We took the A37 from Shepton Mallet down to the A303, which became the A30 before joining the M5 for a single junction, and then peeling off onto another A road that took us to Exmouth.  And in the evening, after much chat and a lovely lunch, we came back.

Then, on Saturday, having discovered that the puppet workshop that had prevented us going to the family party that afternoon had been cancelled at the last minute, we drove to Exmouth again.  It was an unexpected joy to be able to join the family for Grandpa’s birthday, and it was wonderful to see everyone.  It’s been a while since their front room has been that crowded!

And in the evening, instead of repeating the journey again, we turned left at the M5 and headed down the A380 to Paignton to stay overnight at my parents’ house.  We went to church with them on Sunday morning, said hello to lots of old friends, showed off our Samuel, and after a Sunday roast we headed home, back along the A303 again.

So you might say I’ve had more than my usual helping of A303 this weekend.  And despite an aching lower back and very tired eyes, I loved every minute of it.

There are some high points that I’d like to share with you, but I’d actually like to start with a particular favourite that happens to be on the A30, heading away from Exeter.  Once the noisy concrete dual-carriageway melts away into country lanes and we begin the climb into the Blackdown Hills, there is a beautiful stretch where the trees envelope the road like a tunnel, wrapping you in a warm, dark blanket of leaves and dappled light in the summer.  And in the winter when the trees are bare you can peer through the gaps and see out over a wide and glorious valley, with houses nestled in the hills on the far side.

Then the A30 melts into the A303, and the thrill continues to grow.  The hills come one after the other, with not a straight bit of road to be seen.  At one point there is a tight corner, signposted at being 25mph maximum.  With an empty car, with firm suspension and precise balance (like a Mini, for instance), this corner can be taken at 40mph at least by someone with skill and guts.  I know.  It doesn’t take a car with an enormous engine to enjoy good handling, I did it in a 998cc Mini City.

All along there are corners of various tightness, some requiring more concentration than others.  There are plenty of opportunities for making use of the whole width of the lane, clipping the apex as you go round, and taking a series of successive bends as if it were a chicane.  There are hills both steep and long, each requiring a different timing for an effective down-shift.  Changing gear, after all, is not a science – it’s an art; beautiful in its arrangement, flexible in its execution, expressive in its delivery.  You can tell a lot about a person by the way they change gear.  And the A303 is a wonderful road to exhibit all these different driving skills in a safe environment, without the danger of a rally course or race track, without the speed, without the risk to life and limb.  It’s just a road.  It just happens to be a beautiful one, that brings out the true colours of a person’s driving.

And yes, I am a geek, for all that, if only because I know about hitting apexes and think about cars as body parts.  I am, after all, a Driver.

P.S. While writing this post I came across a fantastic road dictionary, complete with cartoon illustrations.  Well worth a read for anyone interested in knowing a little more about our roads.

Now, it may appear from this post that I have nothing better to do with my time at the moment than waste countless hours sat in front of a screen twiddling knobs and tapping incessantly on keys without really achieving anything productive.  And they may be a modicum of truth in that hypothesis.  However, I can assure you that the time I have spent playing has been (for the most part) well-chosen and has not adversely interfered with the normal running of my life.  It has of course been lots of fun.

First of all, I recently acquired something I have wanted for years – a steering wheel.  No, not for my car, but for the computer.  And since all my games are now on the PS2, it had to be one that I could plug into that.  An hour or so on eBay and a handful of reviews culminated in a purchase of a Logitech Driving Force EX steering wheel, which was plugged in and tested as soon as I was able (i.e. the evening of the day it arrived – see, I didn’t skip work for this), driving my current favourite game: Gran Turismo 4.

It took a while to get used to, having learnt all the basics of the game using the standard controller, but it wasn’t long before I was hooked.  The steering wheel provided good feedback, with resistence and vibration like a real car, and actually made the cars a lot easier to drive with precision – which is what that particular game is all about.  More recently I’ve even started playing around with drifting and controlling cars on off-road courses, neither of which I could master with a normal controller.  I’ve also found myself preferring to turn off the traction control systems, opting to drive ‘raw’ and more in tune with the car, and that’s rewarded me with a much more pleasing feel to the drive.  And aching arms.

Unfortunately the Driving Force EX isn’t without its faults.  I soon discovered (and later found others who had found the same) that the “flappy paddle” gear change buttons on the back of the steering wheel don’t work with my version of GT4.  Apparently it’s a known issue with that particular steering wheel and my particular release of the game – in other countries it’s absolutely fine.  I’ve scoured all sorts of forums and suchlike, and the general consensus is that there is no solution.  The error itself is in the wiring of the steering wheel, and the option that would usually remedy the situation is bemusingly disabled in PAL versions of the game.  So I’m left with no alternative really but to keep the game in Automatic transmission, missing out on that final piece of absolute control.  Well, I say no alternative, it seems you can get the flappy paddles to work, but only by unplugging the power supply to the steering wheel and using it as if it were a normal controller, meaning you get all the right buttons in the right places but no force feedback.

Still, I’ve had a whale of a time with the wheel so far, and it’s been incredibly addictive.  I’ve spent many late hours screaming round various tracks, wearing tyres ragged and inevitably smashing into my fair share of walls too, but even so there has been the satisfying reward of some awesome corners and moments of superb and flawless control.  The trick now is in reducing the number of accidents and increasing the occurrence of brilliance.

Meanwhile, up on the Mac, I’ve rediscovered (again) my love for Transport Tycoon.  Or, to be more precise, OpenTTD, which is the open-source version that is still being developed and tinkered with by people who refuse to let the game die.  This all started (or restarted, as the case may be) after a trip to London, and my mind got all creative and geeky looking at train station configurations.  So I downloaded the latest version of the game and started playing again, and after a few false starts I’ve got a rail network going now that’s pretty efficient and elegant too.

Something that’s fairly new in the world of OTTD is the idea of “Path Signals”.  There’s a wiki that goes into a little more detail than I can afford here, but basically it’s a type of signal that allows a train to reserve a route through a section of track.  The advantage is that you can have multiple trains using track that would otherwise be limited to one train at a time with the other signal types.  It’s very clever.  In its simplest form it means you can have a really disorganised mass of track, whack some path signals in the right places, and let the trains sort themselves out without worrying about them crashing into each other.  Marvellous.  Obviously it’s a little more complicated than that in practice, but it does allow for much more elegant track designs, with more crossovers, less track, and fewer bottlenecks.  I love it.  I’d show you some screenshots, but the number of people who’d actually find that at all interesting would be so limited that I’d be wasting my time.  Still, at least I thought about it.

EDIT: Due to popular demand (okay, one person, yay Phill), here are some screenshots of my current OpenTTD game.  I’ve hidden the trees to make the track a little clearer.

[View with PicLens]

And yes, I am a geek.  Thank you for noticing.

(Sorry this post is a little belated, I’ve had a lot on and haven’t got round to writing this up).

Ahead of our cross-country migration at the end of this month, I’ve been having to schedule in some goodbyes.  Significant amongst my friendship groups is the Colchester Mini Club, both the cars and their drivers.  I’ve been a member of the club for as long as I’ve owned a Mini, which is several years, and last Wednesday was my last opportunity to go to a club meeting.  It was a night of fun and excitement, even if it was tinged with sadness.

Something else that made that night a little more difficult was that my Mini was going to be there.  I’ve been going to the meetings each month in the Escort for a while now, while Neddy was off the road for the winter, but there was a very different feel on Wednesday evening driving there knowing that I was no longer a Mini owner, especially given that the car was going to be there anyway, belonging to someone else.  Selling a Mini really is like selling a close friend, and there’s a lot of emotion surrounding it.

I was pleased to see Neddy sitting in the car park though, still in more or less the same condition I sold it in.  Inside the pub there was a fair-sized group present, all cheery and chatty as usual.  I put a brave face on it and settled down with a pot of tea (which amused them all no end).  Before too long James stood up to do the announcements, or so I thought – the only announcement at that point was that we were all going for a drive as a final farewell for me!  And to make things even better, Rod gave me the keys to Neddy and let me drive!  Woohoo!!

As much as I often complain about the sub-standard quality of countryside in this part of the country, the lack of hills and the timidity of the country lanes, there are actually a lot of very nice roads in the empty wastelands north of Colchester.  Not hugely interesting on their own, perhaps, but as we drove along in convoy none of that mattered.  Most of the time I couldn’t even see the Mini at the front, there were that many of us!  I drove with the window down so I could hear the engine roar, threw it into the corners (enthusiastically yet cautiously – it’s not my car any more, after all), and had a permanent grin plastered across my face.

I’ve no idea where we went, but we saw very little in the way of civilisation.  The pace was a little quicker than our usual club runs, which was good fun, though a couple of people ‘commented’ on it afterwards – not everyone likes to thrash their cars.  The B-roads were good fun though, plenty of bends and the odd pot-hole to avoid, and it was warm enough that I didn’t freeze with the window down the whole time.

Neddy thoroughly enjoyed the ride too.  All those little changes I’d made over the years came together, holding the car on the road, providing perfectly adequate acceleration, making a very pleasing noise.  It bounced along the uneven roads, leaped over a hump-back bridge, and squealed round some corners.  So much fun!  It reminded me once again of just what it is that sets the Mini apart from other cars – it’s retained its inherent simplicity from the early days, so even the newer models still felt like go-karts.  It’s not an uncivilised ride, nor is it filled with computer wizzardry, it’s just simple fun.  And when it’s that simple, there’s not a huge amount to go wrong.  Driving in a Mini you feel everything, you know exactly what each wheel is doing and you learn to refine your driving technique to get the most out of the car.  Very different to my Escort, where everything is so detached I feel almost like I’m having to control it via telekinesis.

When we got back we carried on chatting away, and I got to know a couple of new girls who had just discovered the club.  It was good fun, even though of course I’ll never see them again.  Still, it made them feel welcome, which was the main thing.  The club also gave me a big ‘good luck’ card which a lot of them had signed, which was very touching, and James formally thanked me for my input in the club over the years.  I had to hold back the emotions somewhat, I have to admit, because going round hugging everyone just isn’t the right thing to do amongst car enthusists – people who are more at home under an oily car than expressing themselves physically in a non-sexual manner.  So I said thank you and left it at that.

So that’s the close of another chapter in my life.  I’ve promised to keep in touch with them all via the forum, and to pop in if I’m ever in the area.  Hopefully I’ll see some of them at future Mini events too.  Co-ordinating meeting up might prove difficult though, simply because of the number of different groups of people I’d have to see in one go – I’d have to go to St Margaret’s on Sunday to see them, see other friends in the area during the week, and get to a Mini club meeting on Wednesday evening.  It’s possible, but not easy.  We’ll see.  But that’s thinking way off into the unforeseeable future, so I’ll stop there.

A big thank you to everyone at CMC for all the help and friendship you’ve shared with me over the years – I’ll miss you guys!

So it comes as an enormous sigh of relief that Ellie and I have found a lovely new house to move into in a few weeks time!  This week we travelled down to Bristol to stay with my grandparents for a couple of days while we scoured the locality for potential places to set up residence.  We’d spent a fair amount of time reading through the results on RightMove.co.uk, and found a few we thought looked promising, and when we arrived in Bristol on Tuesday evening we had three houses we particularly wanted to look at: one in Peasedown St John, one in Evercrecch, and one in Bedminster.  Grandma quickly told us that Bedminster wasn’t a great area, so we weren’t too disappointed when the estate agents never got back to us about getting us a viewing.

The first house we looked at was in Peasedown St John, which is a pleasant little village between Bath and Radstock.  The house looked okay from the outside, but inside it was somewhat uninspiring.  The rooms were rather small, the third bedroom didn’t look like it was big enough to get a bed in (let alone my enormous desk and umpteen computers), and the dining room was hardly big enough to get a coffee table in.  In short, we decided it wasn’t for us.  Not least becaxuse it was already well out of our budget.

So that left everything hanging on the house in Evercreech.  We’d actually seen that house on the web several weeks earlier, and liked the look of it, but we did wonder why it was still there and why it hadn’t already been snapped up.  So when we got back from Peasedown St John (via Crib’s Causeway for a spot of shopping) we had another look on RIghtMove and found a few more houses to go and look at, and rang to sort out viewings the next day.  My personal preference was still Evercreech, partly because the name sounded funny, and partly because I was already suffering the effects of having driven a lot of miles recently (we also did Spring Harvest in Skegness the week before).

First thing in the morning we left for Evercreech.  And for once I really do mean ‘first thing’ – we had to be there for 9:15am, which meant leaving Bristol at 8am to take into account rish hour traffic, which meant getting Thankfully there wasn’t nearly as much traffic as we’d anticipated, and we got to Evercreech in good time.  Evercreech is a lovely little country village, not far from Shepton Mallet, full of character and surrounded by rolling hills and lots of fields, and not a main road in sight for miles.  Nice.  We found the house fairly easily, and from the outside it looked really nice.  As it turned out, inside was even better.

Ellie and I fell in love with the house almost immediately.  It’s a really good size, with a cozy lounge and a modern kitchen, and although there isn’t a separate dining room there is a nice little alcove in the kitchen where we can have a small table and a couple of chairs, and there’s room to take the table into the lounge if we need to seat more people.  There’s a downstairs loo, a nice big hallway, and upstairs there are three good sized bedrooms and a family bathroom.  We even have access to the loft, which is a first – previous landlords haven’t given us access to that.  Outside there’s a nice little garden area, with two patios, a shed, a compost bin, an outdoor tap, and then we have a garage and two parking spaces.  And all for less per month than where we are at the moment!

We couldn’t quite believe how right it was for us.  It felt like home, and we’d only been there a matter of minutes.  We loved the area, we loved the house.  God really answered our prayers on this one!  In fact, that was our overriding feeling throughout our visit to Threeways (that’s the name of the house, very appropriate we thought) – God had kept this house on the market for weeks and weeks with no interest whatsoever, keeping it specially for us.  The landlady even dropped the price by a significant amount because no one was interested, making it even more affordable for us (which is good, because we’ll have to buy some white goods when we get there).  It’s within reach of a lovely church in Shepton Mallet, which looks like it should suit us both very well, it’s away from the busyness of the town but close enough for us not to feel cut off (7 minutes drive from Tesco), it’s within reach of all our parents (being equidistant from Torquay and Gloucester), and just south of us is Castle Cary, giving us a good train route into London.  It’s fantastic!!  Thank you God!!!!

I’ve put some photos up on my new Flickr account for those that are interested, though for privacy reasons they’re not public – if you want to see them let me know and I’ll give you a special link so you can take a look.  We’re both really excited about it, and can’t wait to move in.  I’ve got some bits and pieces to sort out today, doing my tax return form so I can send them up to date info about my earnings so they can credit check me and soforth, and we’ll need to start looking into removal services too at some point.  But for now we’re smiling from ear to ear, albeit a tired smile from all the driving.  It’ll be such a shame to be moving away from all our friends, but on the other hand for the first time ever I will be able to say that I have specifically chosen where in the country I’m living!  Bring on the hills!

I know it’s Easter Sunday, and I really am excited and thrilled to know that Jesus rose from the dead, but there’s more – Neddy lives too!  It’s clearly the day for resurrections.  After several months of being garaged, my lovely Mini is now back on the road, healthy and alive and really loving it!

I was actually hoping to sell Neddy way back in November, when we bought our Ford Escort Ghia X, which was intended to replace our little Mini.  Unfortunately I couldn’t find a buyer at the time, what with the credit crunch driving car prices down, so Neddy sat almost completely forgotten in the garage, not seeing the light of day or feeling the tarmac under his tyres.  I did make sure the car was MOTed before Christmas, but due to lack of buyers I opted to SORN the car rather than renewing the tax disc, with the intention of getting the ball rolling again in the spring, by which time hopefully the car market would have improved.

A few weeks ago I got the insurance sorted, got the car taxed again, and had every intention of getting the car back on the road.  Unfortunately I just never got round to it, what with everything else getting in the way, so Neddy stayed in the garage.  Yesterday afternoon I decided enough was enough and I just had to get Neddy up and running again, hopefully so that he can be sold before we move.  I pushed the car out of the garage and tried starting it up – not a sausage.  A trip out to Halfords equipped me with some jump leads and a battery charger, so I connected the Mini to the Escort and tried to jump start it – again, no joy.  The starter motor kicked in and turned the engine over, but it refused to do much more than that.  It spluttered and gave very faint signs of trying to start, but nothing more.  Not good.  In addition, I noticed a small waft of white smoke coming from the engine bay, so stopped what I was doing fairly sharpish.

On further inspection the cause of the smoke appeared to be a wire connected to the fuel inertia cut-off switch (which stops the engine in the event of a crash).  I touched the wire and it literally fell apart.  No wonder the engine wasn’t keen to start.  The insulation around the wire had worn through, by the looks of it through years of rubbing against a nearby bit of plastic in the engine bay, and the wire inside had rusted through.  That left the Mini stranded outside the garage, with no clear way of getting it back in (it’s on a slight hill, so pushing it was out of the question).

This afternoon I went back with a little more time and significantly more determination, and set about putting right as much as I could.  The wires leading to the switch were my first concern.  The wires are actually connected to a plug in the bottom of the switch, so I was able to unplug that end and a gentle tug snapped the other wire too, which apparently was in almost the same condition.  A little poking around showed that the wires had rusted along inside the insulation, which means there’s no way of stripping the wires and reconnecting them – the plug can’t be taken apart, so I’m going to have to order a new one.  In the meantime I’ve simply connected the two wire ends together, bypassing the switch altogether.

While I was at it I fitted the recharged battery, and tried to resolve an issue I’d had before with the negative battery lead not doing up tight enough and popping off the battery terminal.  I eventually got the bolt undone and pinched the ring with a pair of pliers to make the whole thing a tighter fit, and (after accidentally putting the battery in the wrong way round first time and causing a brief spark – oops!) put it all back together without complaint.

So that just left trying to start the engine again.  If it still didn’t work my next stop would be to check the spark plugs.  But I turned the key, and after a little persuasion the engine lumpily kicked into life, stuttering badly to begin with but levelling out after a minute or two.  That’s to be expected after a long time of rest, so I wasn’t concerned too much about that.  What joy!  Neddy was running again, and my face was beaming!  I was standing in front of it, looking lovingly into the engine bay, talking to Neddy again just like I used to.

Of course, that necessitated a quick drive, so I shoved all my tools back in the garage, shut everything up, and got in the driver’s seat.  The gear stick felt very foreign to begin with, and the clutch and brake pedals felt very odd indeed, but I soon got the hang of it again – it all came flooding back with pungent familiarity.  I took it easy to begin with, driving slowly round the block, teasing the brakes back into life and letting the engine slowly work its way up to normal running temperature.  Then it was onto some main roads, trundling along at 30 with an enormous smile on my face and the window down so I could hear that lovely exhaust.  The main road turned into a country back road, and with the national speed limit came the familiar temptation to open the engine up and give it some welly!  Neddy bounced happily along the road, clearly enjoying being back where he belonged.  Back on a main road towards home we met up with a tractor which, at the next available clear straight, presented a nice opportunity for letting loose with the go-juice and doing a little overtaking.  Oh the thrills!

The steering actually felt quite heavy after the power steering in the Escort, and the driving position wasn’t exactly perfect either – it’s the case in all Minis, and something we very easily forgive, but the steering wheel is actually off to the left slightly, as are the pedals, which means sitting at an odd angle to drive.  Still, it was enormous fun, and brought back many happy memories.  The sharp steering, the bumpy ride, the throbbing exhaust, the slight unevenness of the braking, the diddy little windscreen wipers and the pathetic window washer pressure, the amazing ability to stick to the road, the thrill of doing 60 and it feeling like 80.  Love it!

The only fly in the ointment really is that now I have to sell my lovely little car.  I had delayed putting the adverts up because I wanted to make sure the car actually worked, otherwise I’d have a hard time trying to sell it at all, but now it’s back on the road it means I really ought to be advertising it again in earnest.  I shall have to do some research to find out what the going rate is at the moment – before the economic slow-down I would have expected to get around £2200, but I reckon it may be worth nearer £1400 now.  I’ll have to see.  And of course if I can’t sell it before we move I’ll have to drive it to the Westcountry and sell it there instead.  Unless of course I can persuade Ellie to let me keep it for the weekends…

Oh, sorry, you’ll be wanting some context.  Ahem.  Allow me to back up and start again.

I now have a second person on my insurance policy, and much to my wife’s disappointment it’s not her.  My friend Sarah has another driving test coming up next week and wanted to get as much practice as possible before zero-hour, so I put her on my insurance for a week as an additional named driver.  Of course, that’s meant that I’ve had to actually take her out in the car, which was pretty scary, for both of us.

Our first outing was on Tuesday, and was a first for both of us – for Sarah it was the first time she had driving any car other than her instructor’s, and for me it was the first time I had let someone else drive my car.  It took a while for Sarah to get to grips with the car, being larger and heavier and more sensitive than she’s used to.  In fact, that first trip out was pretty hairy, narrowly missing several cars and leaving me digging my fingers into the passenger seat and pressing my right foot firmly into the footwell where the brake pedal ought to be.

Thankfully though today’s outing was much more encouraging.  We went a little further afield, did some higher speeds (on the dual-carriageway), and Sarah was much more confident with her control of the car.  Which was encouraging because it means that a significant proportion of my worries from last time were down to the car rather than her driving ability.  So all is good.

It got me thinking though – could I actually be a professional driving instructor?  I do have a passion for driving, and lots of patience, and I’m usually fairly good at explaining things.  On the other hand, I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to driving, and I’m not sure I could cope with just sitting there and letting learner drivers ruin the clutch and the gearbox.  To be honest, I’d prefer to be in the driver’s seat than the passenger’s.  Maybe I should be a chouffeur.  Or a rally driver.  Or maybe I could sit at home and make pretty web sites.  Oh wait, I already do.

One final thing.  I can’t remember exactly how I stumbled across it, but today I found a YouTube channel that I felt compelled to subscribe to.  I’m not a huge YouTuber, and I’ve never subscribed to anything before, so that just shows how good it was.  From what I can tell it’s just this guy in Bath who films himself doing random things.  It’s absolutely hilarious, just my sort of sense of humour!  He’s got a video about how to make the perfect cup of tea, which (appropriately) I watched while drinking a cup of tea.  So if your randomness levels are on a temporary low, check out charlieissocoollike.  It’s worth five minutes of your life.  It really is.