21 Jan 2021

Witnessing the aftermath of a horrific crash

 I left home early to get to Yorkshire in time for the survey I was due to attend. It had snowed the night before but though the garden had looked pretty in white at 11pm it had almost all melted by 7am. At 8am I was in my car, heating on, heated seat on, windscreen cleared. 

I reversed out of my drive and drove slowly down the road which was still covered with a patchy layer of white. It's a long cul de sac which sees little traffic, and slopes downhill to the end so whenever we've had snow or ice you have to be careful not to slide inexorably towards the scene of a collision.

Safely out of the village I hit the busy dual-carriageway A-road which took me eastwards. The sky was grey and the dirty water on the road was being kicked up by HGVs and large SUVs piloted by small people. 

Unavoidably two abreast at 50mph there were a few occasions when the sheer volume of spray caused by the intersection of juggernauts and Audi Q8s temporarily reduced visibility to nought. You hold your breath, slow a little - but not so much that the car behind panic brakes and causes a concertina crash - and cover the brakes. 

The journey continued in this vein until I reached the motorway. The M56 east and then the M60 heading past Stockport and eventually north around Manchester and towards the M62.

The skies were clear but the spray continued to impede vision. I would avoid the SUVs and HGVs wherever possible. Some people drive right in their wake, seeing nothing but giant tyres and a dirty cloud of spray. I hold back, wait for my chance to pass. Visibility is key in these circumstances. You need to understand what other drivers are doing, what you think they are going to do, where they are going, whether they are on their phone, in a temper, in a dream.

One large woman in a red Fiat 500 with wheel trims sat on my bumper for a mile. I could not move over due to traffic, would not speed up due to spray and could do nothing but keep my eye on her and anticipate what she might do and what I could do if a hazard ahead caused an emergency brake. Eventually I moved left and she passed, her eyes looking down at something on the dash instead of the road, to do the same to the next driver.

We were all happily moving along at pace when I saw a disturbance ahead and to my left. I was in lane four and something was going on. I could detect it in the micro-movements of vehicles around me

I slowed a little to avoid debris in the road, a piece of black plastic. Then an articulated lorry moved across from lane two and went to stop, blocking lanes one and two. Everybody was slowing. My mind was in emergency mode. Time slowed.

I saw a car, a white or silver Honda I think. Only its passenger side still existed. It had hit been hit at an almighty speed by something unstoppable. It was stationary and facing towards me on the hard shoulder. The HGV that had swerved had been blocking the road to stop traffic from getting close. This was deadly serious. Whoever had been in the Honda must be dead. I knew it.

Maybe five cars were stopped by now. People were racing to the remains of the Honda. There were enough on scene. Me stopping wouldn't help anyone. I carried on.

I couldn't get the thought of the Honda out of my mind. I thought about all the people impacted by losing a loved one. I thought about a pet dog waiting for its mum or dad to come home. I thought about children who did not yet know a parent had been killed.

I forgot the name of everyone I was at the survey with. I kept having to look at my notes. My brain was numb. I've never seen anything like that before.

I drove home in the afternoon in even worse conditions. The stupidity and arrogance of dozens of drivers in sleet and freezing rain amazed me. I beeped my horn at several who just drifted across lanes because they were on the phone.

And all day I thought of that Honda. 

I got home and checked the North West Motorway Police twitter account. They mentioned it briefly. People who had seen the crash were distraught. One lady and I who had seen it comforted each other. Another lady said her son was in the car and she was worried how he would be at school after having seen it. One man wrote "Went past just after it happened. Loads of public literally ripping the roof off the car. Hope everyone is OK."

Literally ripping the roof off the car.

As with everything I will eventually forget what I saw, but the family of the victim(s) won't. And neither will their pets.

By Matt Hubbard

10 Jul 2020

Automotive Simplicity

I've always valued simplicity in a car. Give me just what I need and no more. More equals weight and weight is bad. You have to put more effort into going forwards with more weight. You have to build bigger brakes and suffer stiffer suspension with more weight. This adds more expense, more complexity and yet more weight.

Yet complexity for the sake of complexity seems to be the way we are heading. As well as valuing simplicity I also value space, comfort and speed. I like a car to carry me emotionally as well as physically. I once drove a Toyota Yaris to Sussex and arrived at my destination brain dead. It was a hollow experience.

Balancing all these values brought me to buying a Mk7 Golf GTI. I've owned it a year and love its combination of speed, comfort and relative light weight. At 1400kg it's not too porky.

However I have recently discovered it is complex. Far too complex. We had packed the Golf for a long needed week in Cornwall. 250 miles and four hours. It would be a breeze. Adaptive cruise control set to 79 and a couple of editions of the Talking Sopranos podcast and we'd be in Perranporth in the blink of an eye.

Only it didn't turn out that way. Within half a mile of leaving home the coolant warning light came on. I got out, observed the trail of fluid we'd left behind and turned back for home.  I opened the bonnet and found that whatever fluid I put in the header tank was escaping at speed through an unspecified location amidst a mess of wires, pipes and something called camshaft adjustment actuators at the back of the engine. We unpacked everything from the Golf and repacked it in my son's Seat Mii - a sibling to the VW Up! - and set off for Cornwall.

I had previously ignored the Mii for anything other than local journeys. It is a fabulous little car. Small outside, spacious inside, comfortable and simple. The driver's seat has far less support than the Golf's, there is no cruise control, no arm rests, no cubby spaces for storage.

Yet the seat was comfortable, there was enough space, we crammed everything in the Mii that had been in the Golf. It cruised along at motorway speeds with nary a complaint from any occupant. My phone provided satnav and the Talking Sopranos podcasts through the car's stereo. It has electric windows, which I consider an essential, and it has heating and A/C, also an essential. What it lacks is cruise control. That's the only thing I really missed.

Despite only having a 1 litre engine with 60 bhp the Mii delivered us to Cornwall in a relaxed and happy state. The Golf would not have been any faster over the entire journey.

And when in Cornwall the Mii continued to delight. Its low weight means the suspension is soft and this was perfect for trekking round awfully paved roads and gravel tracks to find beach car parks. The car's small dimensions, neutral steering and light clutch made Cornish lanes easy to navigate and the tiny brakes were plenty enough to stop us quickly when faced with oncoming SUVs at mighty speed around blind Cornish bends.

And finally when we drove home I was quite tired after three hours driving so we pulled into Leigh Delamere services and my son was able to drive the rest of the way home. He isn't insured on the Golf because it would cost about a million pounds.

When we arrived home my mechanic friend came round and showed me his investigations into the Golf's coolant loss. It could be anything from a blown head gasket to a simple pipe failing. But because it is in a location surrounded by technological gubbins he would rather a specialist look at it. So I've booked a mobile Volkswagen specialist to come and investigate. The bill will potentially be ruinous.

I have learned over the course of the past week that despite the Mii producing around 170bhp less than the Golf it is far more its equal than I had imagined. You really have to drive the little car. You use the gears to overcome the lack of power and you hustle it round corners to keep the speed up. It is a fun car to drive and it engages you more than many a faster, more expensive, more luxurious, heavier and more complex car.

The Golf is still a better all round car than the Mii but not by the margin I expected. Once the Golf is fixed I am seriously considering swapping it in for a simpler, lighter machine. But it must have cruise control and electric windows.

By Matt Hubbard

23 Jan 2020

Cars - A Manifesto

The car is under attack. Politically, socially and environmentally it is hated by a certain type. A certain type that is vocal and has people in power and the mainstream media on their side. The bureaucrats, the cyclists, the zealots and the Followers Of Greta. People in positions of power look down their collective noses at the plebs in their tin boxes. Ordinary people should take the train they say. Ordinary people should cycle they say. Ordinary people belong on buses they say, as they tap their chauffer on the shoulder and are whisked off to yet another meeting about how to stop the masses thinking for themselves.

The printing press allowed people to be educated. Before the printing press only monks and scholars would read. Books were written but copies could only be created by hand, painfully slowly. Johannes Gutenberg’s printing press in the 15th century allowed information to be shared and ideas to be spread amongst the general populous. It provided for a step change in human evolution and ushered in the Age of Enlightenment which in turn provided the foundations for modern society.

Similarly the industrial revolution, the invention of the aeroplane and air travel, the creation of the internet and, of course, the automobile provided similar Gutenberg revolutions.

It was the creation of the automobile which allowed society to move beyond the physical restrictions of their origins. The farm and factory workers of the 19th century could only travel overland by walking or by horse for their work, to visit relatives, to explore the world outside their immediate environs. The introduction of the train in the latter part of the 19th century allowed for faster travel but it was incredibly restrictive in terms of where and when the trains ran.

Humans have to work around the train network, while cars work around the humans who drive them. Trains start and stop in predetermined locations at predetermined times - even if that is inconvenient. That has always been and is still the main issue with trains. I can drive the 20 mile journey from home to work in 30 minutes outside of rush hour and 45 minutes during rush hour. Using public transport would involve a one hour walk to the train station followed by a 53 minute journey on one train, a 16 minute journey on another train and a 10 minute walk from the station to the office. 45 minutes in the car versus 2 hours 20 minutes on public transport.

The car revolutionised society in terms of where we live, where we work, where we shop, the shape of our houses, the shape of our roads, the size and shape of our towns and villages. The car improved our lives beyond the imagination of the most forward looking Victorian. It changed how we dress, how we meet partners, how we spend our time, how fast we can access medical facilities. It made every single aspect of our lives better.

And yet we are told in the 21st century that cars are somehow bad. That cars are killing us. That we should move away from the car and into the various forms of mass transit that are provided for us by the benevolent state. Mass transit, don’t forget, that can’t even pay it’s own way. That is massively subsidised by people who don’t use it for those that do. Car drivers are paying for train users. The local butcher driving to work in a village in Lancashire is paying for the London banker, who earns ten times more than him, to take the train to work.

Why do the anti-car crowd adopt this mindset? It’s been coming for a long time. It wasn’t long after the invention of the car that someone was killed. In 1869 Mary Ward was riding in a steam car built by her cousins when she fell out on a bend and was run over. She died immediately. Nowadays around 1.25 million people per year die on the roads. In the UK it is around 1200 a year. This is a seemingly intolerable number, until you think about the benefits that cars bring to society and how many lives would be lost were cars not to exist.

Yet cars are becoming ever safer. Crashes become ever more survivable. In 1973 a journalist called Richard S Foster could see the direction that safety legislation was heading and wrote a short story called A Nice Morning Drive, published in Road & Track magazine. It was a prescient piece which described a society where cars had become 2700kg MSVs – Modern Safety Vehicles – which were designed to withstand 10mph head on impacts undamaged. The drivers of these MSVs become lazy and stupid and the crash rate increased by 6% every year, to which the legislators decided that shortly in the future MSVs would have to withstand 110mph head on impacts undamaged.

When asked why modern cars are so big and heavy a VW executive is reputed to have said that if you were to remove the entire safety and emissions components from a Touareg and place them on the floor next to it you would have something of the same weight and cost as a VW Up! Modern cars aren’t becoming MSVs, they already are.

Legislation drives safety regulations. It dictates the shape, height, weight and cost of our cars. It bulks them out and it beefs them up. Small cars have to be designed to withstand the impact of a 2.7 tonne Range Rover Sport. So they become less small and less cheap and more ugly.

All of this is done in the name of safety yet the humans who drive these increasingly huge and heavy cars receive no training and are not penalised for antisocial, dangerous driving. We are increasingly policed by camera and computer which catches only those who don’t pay their tax and drive a little too fast. Meanwhile the drunk, the drugged up and the frankly stupid get away with it.

In August 2019 Harry Dunn was riding his motorcycle when an American diplomat called Anne Sacoolas, driving on the wrong side of the road, smashed into him head on in her Volvo XC90 SUV. The XC90 weighs 2300kg and is pretty much the safest car on the road. Unless you’re outside it and have been smashed into by it. Then it is absolutely, catastrophically deadly. Sacoolas fled the country and escaped justice.

But what punishment would she have received? On 8 March 2018 the journalist Henry Hope Frost was riding home on his motorcycle when he was hit head on by a taxi driver called Tahir Mehmood who was driving his Toyota Prius on the wrong side of the road. Mehmood was found guilty and received a £670 fine and sentenced to 200 hours unpaid work.

The state controls every aspect of cars and car safety but allows complete idiots to drive cars on the public roads and when they kill other road users they get away almost scot free.

We need a government-led campaign of compulsory education and training. Driving should be a privilege enjoyed only by those competent enough to engage in it without endangering the lives of others.

And then we turn to the other issue of the modern age. The environment. Cars are bad for the environment, they say. Therefore cars should be banned. I tend to the persuasion that I will listen to arguments on all sides before forming an opinion. Some people are unable to do this. In the 21st century we in the West live in secular societies. Religion, which once bound the populace together and formed our structures, laws, meaning and entire reason for being, is gone.

Some people are simply unable to exist without a belief system that guides them, leads them and tells them how to think, behave and organise their lives. These people have been looking for a new Messiah and they have found one. In fact they’ve found several. The teachings of Marx, Greta Thunberg and political organisations such as the European Union as well as an ideological view of the world where people are designated good or bad by their race, sexual orientation, class, heritage and thoughts. Let’s call them Lemmings.

Let’s digress for a moment. Back to New York in the 1870s. Just as the car was being invented, but hadn’t yet become popular. New Yorkers were taking over 100 million trips a year by horse and by 1880 there were 150,000 horses in the city. Each horse would excrete 10kg of manure per day. That’s over 100,000 tons of manure and 10 million gallons of horse urine per year on New York city streets. Whatever we use for transport is polluting in some way. It is unavoidable.

Back to the present and in 2019 a man called Harry Miller was visited by police at his work place. He was told he was being investigated for transphobic hate crimes in the form of a tweet he had written which contained a limerick. When asked if this was actually a crime he was told it was not. The police then told his co-workers he was ‘dangerous’.

This Lemming mindset has infiltrated all aspects of the establishment. The police, the academia, the civil service, large and medium corporations, HR professionals, the press, silicon valley and the heads of all quangos and government organisations. And it is an inherently anti-car mindset. Cars represent freedom and individuality of the individual. In a car you can go anywhere you want at a reasonable cost.

The Lemmings do not like this. The EU bureaucrats, the Whitehall mandarins, the cyclists, the Cult Of Greta and the Town Planners say that cars emit so much CO2 that it is causing the earth to warm at an unprecedented rate and that because of that all cars need to stop polluting immediately or else the earth and all life on it will die (despite the fact that 400 million years ago CO2 levels in the atmosphere were five times higher than they are now).

And so the Lemmings who are in charge of writing the regulations that we must abide by have created a system of laws where in order to meet their stringent, legally binding, emissions targets cars are becoming yet more large, heavy, expensive and boring. And small cars are, perversely, persecuted even more so by the Lemmings and are being subject to such massive fines that each VW Up! sold in the EU in 2020 will be subject to a £2,400 fine.

So the buyer of a 950kg car with a 1.0 litre engine is punished far more than the buyer of a 2700kg car with a 3.0 engine, and a hybrid electrical system - which pays no fine because it can travel 30 miles on electric power.

Meanwhile standard petrol and diesel cars are becoming cleaner and cleaner all the time, without the ‘help’ of the State and its Lemmings. Each car would require less energy and less material to create were it not for having to fulfil safety and emissions regulations which mean that each car that is created uses a whole lot more energy, materials and rare earth elements.

It is as if they are doing it for political reasons rather than for safety and environmental reasons. The socialists in plain clothing who create our laws are moulding a society where the car is becoming so expensive, so vast, so ridiculous and so technologically advanced and therefore disposable (just like all other modern tech) that they can then criticise cars for being vast, ridiculous and polluting. They can demonise the car for being the thing that they created.

And think of all the other areas where cars have been marginalised. Town Planning creates towns and cities that are so car unfriendly that cars become stranded in islands, trapped between red lights, ultra low emission zones, single occupancy lanes and fast disappearing car parking spaces. New houses are built with too few spaces and more and more new houses are built with allocated parking. Allocated parking is a hideous modern invention which removes the car and the house from each other so that the car is emotionally removed from the occupant. It is out of sight and unloved. Bought as a commodity to provide cheap, convenient transport, then left out of sight and out of mind. It's almost as if this is done on purpose by the people who design our housing...

Private car drivers are being banned and priced out of towns and cities whilst the rich and the Lemmings are happy that the roads are quiet so they can let an Uber take the strain whilst a white van delivers their new kitchen, fresh scallops to their favourite restaurant and huge, polluting HGVs build the massive, dehumanising, concrete and steel skyscrapers which make metropolitan liberal elite even richer and happier.

So now cars cannot fit in standard parking spaces because they are too big and cannot be driven on roads in cities because for years transport planners have spitefully created a road network which penalises cars.

Reducing CO2 is a reasonable aim and one that can be achieved with proper planning and regulation but because those who have created the regulations hate the concept of the private car they have created a system which will destroy it if it goes unchecked.

CO2 can be reduced by making cars smaller and lighter and more efficient. Safety can be achieved by technology other than airbags and crash structures and more and more heavy steel. Carbon monocoques can protect occupants and education can prevent crashes from happening in the first place rather than making all cars withstand all crashes.

People will not be able to afford cars. They will not be able to insure cars because the car insurance industry is a corrupt scam. They will not be able to fuel cars because 65% of the price of fuel in the UK is tax, which pays for trains and buses. They will not be able to drive cars in places where they need to because they will be banned or priced out. They will not be able to park cars because they will not fit in the spaces available. Cars provide social mobility because they are cheap and convenient.

We are told electric cars are the future. But electricity storage is hopelessly backwards in terms of energy intensity compared to fossil fuels, and to hydrogen. Electric cars are even heavier than conventionally fuelled cars yet have tiny ranges and hopelessly long ‘refuelling’ times. 75% of the mass of the entire universe is hydrogen. And if used as a fuel it emits nothing more than water vapour from the exhaust pipe. Yet as a fuel it is marginalised. Hydrogen should be the future of transport but is ignored by the Lemmings because hydrogen is too conveniently ‘good’.

Motoring journalists are, one by one, being stricken with Stockholm Syndrome. They are starting to revere and praise the very thing that will kill off their profession - the electric car. They are given electric cars to test and they report back that this week's model is fast, refined and comfortable and, yes, the range is small and, yes, it takes forever to charge and, yes, a lot of the chargers don't actually work and, yes, costs twice as much as a petrol car and, yes, could be seen as impractical but as petrol and diesel cars will kill us all then we'll all learn to love them.

It’s a war being waged by them against us. By those with an ideology that favours their belief system – that of a weak mind – over yours and mine. They despise us and they do not want us to have the freedom that the car provides. They want to price and regulate the car out of existence for their own political ends.

For the first time in human history we are being told to go backwards. To devolve instead of evolve. To travel less and to do less. We are being told to take the bus when there is no bus available from where we are to where we want to be, and we are told to take the train when the train costs five times more than the car for the same journey.

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The people are fighting back. The people are getting sick of the bureaucrats and the Lemmings and the elites. The people are voting to rid themselves of the EU, to reject Marxism and to embrace a new, populist capitalism. We need to make clear to our politicians what we think. We need to keep a check on them and make sure that they continue to support the car. To spend billions of pounds on roads instead of railways.

The car is the device by which people were freed from the chains of poverty. And long may it continue. Because if it doesn't we will all be in trouble.

Footnote - The song Red Barchetta by Rush is based on A Nice Morning Drive

By Matt Hubbard

26 Sept 2019

A Tale of Golf, LSD and Chinese Rubber

A couple of years ago I owned a Golf R with the DSG gearbox. I sold that and bought a BMW for a few months as an interim measure, and then in spring this year bought a 2013 Mk7 Golf GTI with manual gearbox. The GTI is a Performance Pack model and comes with a limited slip differential and a few extra hp over the standard GTI.

It has 230bhp and 258lb ft of torque which is more than enough for a front wheel drive car. I've done several thousand miles in the GTI, and did Land's End to John O'Groats in one day in it. 852 miles in 15 hours. It proved itself fast and comfortable.

Despite being less powerful than the Golf R, and only being front wheel drive rather than four wheel drive I've enjoyed driving the GTI far more than the R.

The cars are almost identical inside, though the GTI has leather seats where the R had cloth. The ride is very similar - well damped if a little harsh on bumpy surfaces. Driving at pedestrian speeds you'd struggle to find any difference in the cars aside from the gearbox.

But put your foot down and the differences between the cars show themselves. The R was insanely fast and gripped like a limpet. It was fitted with Pirelli P Zeros and would corner well with little slip. It would understeer under power but this was controllable. I toured all round Europe in it and it was never less than fast and fun.

But when I first drove the GTI I realised what the R was missing. Soul.

The GTI has more power than grip available. This means you have to work with the car to apply the power so it's not lost through slip and spin. In the dry you can be quite rough with the throttle. It would wheelspin in first and second gears. In corners you could feel a tiny slip of the inside wheel before the LSD locked the axle and both wheels would pull at the same speed.

Combined with the precise manual gearbox it was an absolutely involving joy to work with.

Until it rained. In the rain it was a menace. And this was because when I bought the car it was fitted four brand new Chinese tyres, or ditch finders. And when the roads were wet their ability to clear water and find grip was found rather lacking.

In the wet you could spin the front wheels in third gear. I've had wheelspin, and sideways slip, on an open Scottish B-road at speeds in excess of 70mph. Exhilarating and scary at the same time.

It got to the point when it just wasn't funny. On a motorway roundabout I poked the throttle on a wet day and, because the locking diff did its stuff, both front wheels just span and caused the car to understeer halfway into the next lane.

So I finally got round to fitting some decent tyres and what a difference they made!

Last weekend the GTI was treated to a fresh set of Goodyear Eagle F1 Asymmetric 5s and, by heck, they're an improvement. It's rained almost constantly since and I've driven around 100 miles largely on the country lanes between home and the office.

In the wet the Golf is now an absolute joy to drive. You can feel and control sideways slip. It still spins and first and second gear but in third it holds on to the road. You have to ease the power on, be careful changing from first to second and concentrate hard as you reach the red line - a small crest or patch of shiny surface can cause wheelspin.

But it's predictable now whereas with the ditch finders it would just be hopeless. In a corner when you push on the power you feel the LSD engage and you use it's action to pull the car round the corner. It'll still understeer if you're brutal with the throttle but that's the point. It is involving and you have to use your skill and ability as a driver to get the best from it.

The R is sold as a more prestigious model than the GTI but the R is digital whereas the GTI is analogue, and I prefer analogue.

By Matt Hubbard

3 Jul 2019

Why You Need A Motocross Bike As A Second Bike

Us bikers are never happy with just one bike. We covet our bikes in a way that car owners rarely do.

Some of us ride regularly for work and for fun, others for weekend scratching, and some even ride motorcycles for a living. Bikes are becoming ever more specialised. Yes you can buy a bike that will cover a lot of bases but it’ll be compromised in one way or another.

I love my Triumph Tiger 800 XCX. For me it’s the perfect do-it-all bike. It carries luggage, is comfortable, has cruise control and heated grips and looks fantastic. I use it for work and for pleasure.

But it would be no good on the track. It has enough power but its weight is too high, its suspension too squashy and its brakes would start to overheat after a couple of laps.

For track use you want something a little lighter, lower and with better brakes. More power would be helpful but its more important that the bike has a good balance. On my one and only motorcycle track day I used my Triumph Street Triple 765 RS.

The Street Triple is a beautiful looking machine. It sounds good too. For that day on that track I felt amazing. Man and machine in perfect harmony. Whilst out on track I couldn’t have been happier. I could have run on and on for hours more.

My only concern was how much it would cost if I crashed it. The 765 RS is a ten grand bike and you aren’t insured on track.

I eventually sold the Street Triple because it was too focussed, too hardcore for the road. I didn’t find it comfortable in terms of the ride and riding position. In certain circumstances it was absolutely amazing but for more than fast road riding or track time it was too narrow in scope for me.

After the track day I went on a completely different kind of motorcycle experience day. I attended an off-road school. It was the Yamaha off-road school in Mid-Wales.

These bikes aren’t sleek and low and powerful. They are tall and narrow and run comparatively small engines with just a single cylinder, a handful of horsepower and knobbly tyres.

And they’re an absolute hoot to ride.

You still have to wear specialist clothing such as boots, helmets, gloves and suits, all of which you can buy from 24mx. The gear all has a purpose. Motocross boots are rigid and prevent you damaging your foot in one of your frequent spills. The clothing also needs to protect you from the elements because motocross riding is messy and muddy and wet.

The fun in motocross comes from the type of roads, trails and tracks you ride on. I’d never ridden off road before but by mid-morning was riding my 250cc beast around a forestry track that was so churned up it looked impossible to walk over, never mind ride a bike through.

You stand on the pegs and mostly ride at low speed, using extremely fine throttle, brake and clutch control. The bike’s front wheel is narrow and tall and spoked for strength. You can aim it at impossibly steep inclines and the smaller, fatter rear wheel will drive it forwards.

Unlike on a track bike if you do crash a motocross bike it will probably be at low speed and the likely damage will be minimal. In fact it would be amazing if you didn’t crash on your first few tries at it. You’ll pick yourself up, analyse what you did and try not to do it again.

Motocross is so much fun that were I to buy another bike I’d seriously consider one over a track focussed bike. You can buy motocross bikes for the road so that as long as your nearest green lane or off road track is not too far (they’re not very comfortable on a long journey) you could ride there.

By Matt Hubbard

2 Jul 2019

Land's End to John O'Groats In One Day In Three Epic Cars

I had been driving for three days non-stop and had covered 1500 miles. On that third day I had left the northern coast of Scotland at 9.30am. I only crossed back in to England at Gretna at 5.30pm. I was completely worn out but still had three hours driving that day, and four more hours the next day...

Scotland is huge. Far larger than you imagine. I've visited it many times and you can get really lost in the place. You do see other people but not very often. Unlike most of England northern Scotland is not flat. In fact it undulates quite a lot.

The result of this is that the roads are half empty and twist and turn with the scenery. And because Scotland is an exposed, windswept place and wasn't part of the UK when the Inclosure Acts were in place farmers weren't forced to create small fields with high hedges around the outside.

And this means you can see where you're going. Which means that driving round Scotland for fun is a really enjoyable experience. If that's your kind of thing.

I don't need much of an excuse to head to Scotland for a drive. And neither does Hannah, a friend who would visit regularly in her Porsche, and then decided she would actually move there earlier this year. So she sold her house in the Home Counties and bought a converted church in Moray.

We had both previously driven from John O'Groats to Land's End in one day and thought it would be a good idea to do the trip again, but the 'proper' way round and in the summer. And this time we would do it in convoy.

So we set a date - the last weekend in June - and asked if anyone else would like to do the trip with us. One person answered the call. A chap called Pete, from Hull.

Hannah organised the accommodation and I organised the route (it wasn't hard, there really only is one way to do it) and we drove down to Cornwall. We met Pete and headed to the excellent Old Success Inn in Sennen Cove for dinner and a pint. We all gelled and discussed the day ahead.

I suggested we start at exactly sunrise - 5.16am - and attempt to get to John O'Groats before sunset at 10.24pm. We all agreed. With an early start ahead of us we headed for an early night.

Land's End

Through thick fog the three of us met at the Land's End visitor centre. We took a photo at the famous sign post and drove the cars around to the front of the centre, under the big sign, for photos and the start.

All three of us are petrolheads and our cars reflected this. Hannah drives a Porsche Cayman GT4, Pete a BMW M2 and me a Golf GTI. My GTI is a 2013 model with 230hp and a limited slip differential. The other two have a lot more power and are rear wheel drive!

I've owned the Golf since March and have really grown to like it. The LSD makes a huge difference and the power feels plenty for a front wheel drive car. The dealer who sold it me fitted it with brand new tyres which is great but they are a cheap Chinese brand which are not great. They're fine in the dry but in the wet are about as effective as Diane Abbot in a maths exam.

At 5.16am precisely we started. We were all absolutely buzzing. Despite the fog visibility was reasonable and we enjoyed careening round the Cornish lanes. Within a couple of hundred yards you are on the A30 but at this point it is a single lane and very twisty. I led and drove as fast as felt safe.

After the rush of the lanes we arrived in Penzance. At this early time the roads were almost deserted and we made good progress. I was in the lead and was taking the racing line where possible - white line to white line, cross the middle line where visibility allowed - to keep efficiency up.

We passed urban areas of Cambourne and Redruth where the A30 is more dual carriageway than motorway with roundabout after roundabout. 

That this trip was a convoy meant I had others to keep an eye on but it was apparent after a very short amount of time that Pete and Hannah were expert drivers. We were flowing well. We all indicated when necessary, kept appropriate distance without lagging too far behind and had good lane discipline. 

I had created a 22 hour, 291 song playlist and as we hit the open countryside - hardly visible in the fog - Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones was playing at max volume. My eyes were on stalks, checking for any hazard. 

Hannah was running in the middle of the pack and her GT4 looked epic in the mirror.

We had been messaging each other before the trip on WhatsApp and I thought I'd see if we could use the app to make a three way call. It worked and we chatted away about the roads, how happy we were to be finally underway after talking about the trip for months and about when we'd need to stop. 

None of us had set off with a full tank of fuel. From full my Golf will has a range of 400 miles on a good run but the Porsche and BMW would only manage 300 miles, and probably less at a decent pace.

As we passed through Cornwall and into Devon the fog lifted and we were greeted by fantastic views and open roads. We decided to by pass Exeter services, which are bloody awful and very expensive, and stop at the next.

Which turned out to be Cullompton. We fuelled up, bought food and drinks and left again at 7.20am.

I have never in my life travelled the length of the M5 and M6 without being stuck in traffic at least once but the next few hours were a dream. We saw other cars but the roads weren't busy. Amazingly the other driver's lane discipline wasn't too bad either.

We continued driving in tight formation, taking it in turns to lead, to be in the middle and to hang at the rear. Both the M2 and GT4 looked great in my mirrors and through the windscreen.

I was still on a high. Energy levels right up there. The road beneath my wheels was rendered smooth by the Golf's chassis. Music pumping. Big smile. Moving high and moving fast. Machines clean, so sweet and mean.

The sun was out and parts of Europe were enjoying the hottest day on record. England was warm but not scorching. I sat low in the seat, enjoying the buzz. Sunglasses. In the zone. Keep us on the road.

We chatted some more. Hannah and I knew each other only through social media before the trip. We'd spoken and messaged but only met once, at the Sunday Scramble at Bicester. Neither of us had met Pete in real life before the trip.

So we talked and talked. About our jobs and cars and life. Pleasant and enjoyable. Good company and good cars.

Charnock Richard

It was 11.15am and we had travelled 371 miles. The cars needed fuelling and we all needed a stretch and a refresh. We parked up and rolled out of our cars - Pete and I almost literally. Hannah, who's car was the most extreme of the three with bucket seats and harness seat belts was much more limber.

We swapped stories of what we'd seen and how we were doing and how we were all amazed at how little traffic we'd encountered.

It was good to walk around awhile. I bought a sandwich and we were robbed blind at the petrol station (£1.49 a litre!)

And then after just a short stop we were off again.

And after a few minutes we stopped. There was a crash on the M6. Arse. Hannah and I were using a satnav app called Waze which didn't suggest any alternative but to sit in the traffic but Pete was using his BMW's satnav and it reckoned we could save twenty minutes by turning off, so we did.

We followed a few local roads and then were stuck in urban dual carriageway hell. It took fifteen minutes to get out of a particularly busy junction, along with half the M6.

But then we found a quieter route and trundled through a place called Bamber Bridge which had some fairly interesting shop names. We all giggled at the Exotic Sunbed Lounge, guffawed at the Pump and Truncheon pub and laughed at the Blonde on Top - a hairdressers.

After a queue to get back on the M6 we were finally back on our route and up to speed.

Lancashire turned to Cumbria turned to the beautiful Lake District. And then we were in Scotland. The scenery didn't change dramatically. The motorway is a thin ribbon of tarmac cutting through massive, open, rolling scenery. Green from plenty of rain and just enough sunshine.

Happily the sun was out for us. The weather had been kind. After the fog burned off in the early morning we had only seen sunshine. But as we stopped again in Hamilton there were warnings of rain ahead.

It was 2.30pm and again the cars needed fuel and the drivers needed a break. We had covered 551 miles and were all beginning to feel a little weary.

We had continued to talk during the trip and all of us felt like it was the evening, even though it was early afternoon. It was almost a surprise that it wasn't. It was a kind of jet lag caused by a very early morning and nine hours on the road.

We got going again. Almost 300 miles to go but miles covered on Scottish roads. Our blistering pace would be slowed a great deal. Our sat navs said we would be at John O'Groats by 8.10pm - almost six hours away.

It is around Stirling that the motorway finally ends. It peters out from three to two lanes and the blue signs stop and the green ones start.

And then you are on the A9 and in average speed camera hell. The scenery is great and the road quite lovely but the average cameras castrate what could be a good drive. Drivers on the A9 don't think. They just comply. Cruise control set to 60 or 70 depending on whether it's single or dual carriageway and drone on and on and on.

Finally after two hours of this rubbish we were free. We passed through Inverness and our pace picked up.

Our energy levels picked up too. I had listened to an audiobook through the speed cameras but that was turned off and huge slabs of Metallica pumped through my speakers as Pete took the lead and I gamely followed, Hannah's Cayman in my mirrors.

The weariness and aching bones were gone and we developed a second wind, invigorated by the scenery, the roads and the Scottish air. We passed through a town and saw several people wearing kilts and tam o'shanters. Hannah and I argued on the phone whether a chap we had seen was a full ginger or a strawberry blonde.

The M2 and Cayman GT4 sounded awesome. I could hear both of them under acceleration. Throaty, growling roars. They also handled better than my Golf. They cornered flat and true whilst I had to be creative with the width of the road and aware of my grip levels.

The road became more winding and challenging. These were the drivers roads we had been seeking, We stopped for a break and photo op on the Dornoch Firth Bridge and that would be the last time we would stop. It was 6.30pm and we still had almost two hours to go.

The rain which had been threatening decided to set in. Sometimes drizzle, sometimes heavy. It affected our visibility and our grip levels. Hannah's rear slid a little and my front end slid a lot as I powered out of a corner and the tyres lost grip.

Teeth were gritted and eyes were on stalks. The drive was good and the cars looked, felt and sounded amazing. I don't think we could have picked three better cars for the job.

As the miles counted down so did the anticipation. We drove fast and we drove well. Everyone within their comfort zones. Everyone enjoying themselves.

John O'Groats

After a particularly intense final half hour we were finally there. John O'Groats. We parked up right next to the sign and hugged and high fived and jumped around. We took photos and savoured the moment.

And then it was over. We had driven 842 miles and we had arrived at 8.08pm, more than two hours before sunset.

We three had essentially been strangers before we started but we had bonded during our trip and after we dumped our stuff and met in the local pub for pints (and wine) and dinner we felt a mutual sense of satisfaction. That we had done something adventurous and extraordinary.

The next day we set off to our various homes. We met for coffee in Perth, hugged again and went our separate ways.

I decided to add an hour or so to my journey and avoided the dreadful A9 and took the incredible Old Military Road through Braemar where my car received a damn good thrashing and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I drove the entire day and arrived at my brother's house in Cheshire at 8pm.

As I said at the start Scotland is huge.

When I finally arrived home on the Monday I had covered 1655 miles, been in the driving seat for 30 hours 17 minutes and averaged 34mpg. And made two good friends.

By Matt Hubbard

25 Jun 2019

4 Old In-Car Features that the Younger Generation Won’t Quite Be Able to Comprehend

Every generation goes through a significant amount of change as new innovations or social attitudes replace those that have come before. However, the speed of which society is evolving seems to be increasing exponentially due to advances in technology and continuing globalisation.

In the motoring world, we haven’t quite reached the stage of having flying cars as we were promised in ‘Back to the Future’, but vehicles have changed significantly over the last few decades. Here are a few features of driving that the younger generation may find it hard to understand. Hopefully, wheels will make it onto this list in the next decade or so!

A to Z maps

Remember having to think about how you were going to get to a location before starting the car? A to Z maps had to be studied in advance and directions written down before any unknown journey commenced. As the internet evolved and home printers became common place, studying the A to Z eventually give way to printing off directions from the world wide web. Now we just tap a postcode into our sat nav or smartphone and off we go. They say in-car technology distracts us from the road, but trying to look at a map or reading scribblings from a piece of A4 on the passenger seat didn’t make driving particularly safe in the old days!

Wind-down windows

Now-a-days, everything from opening a garage door to a can of beans can be done at the push of a button. This also includes car windows. However, not that long ago, all four passenger windows and, sometimes, even the sun roof had to be manually opened using a crank handle. This made it particularly awkward for drivers when they were pulled over, as the police officer had to patiently wait whilst the offender slowly struggled to wind down the window.

This eventually evolved into buttons in the front and crank handles in the back (maybe because kids have more energy!), but in most modern vehicles all passenger windows are controlled by the simple press of a digit. No wonder we are getting fatter as a nation!

Cigarette lighters

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that long ago that smoking cigarettes was so socially acceptable that you could light up anywhere, including inside public venues such as cinemas and restaurants, and cigarette lighters were included as standard in most vehicles. The lighter its self is no longer a feature in modern cars, but the power socket still remains. It is also still referred to as the cigarette lighter by those of a certain age, but it is mainly now used to charge smartphones.

A cigarette lighter did, however, make an appearance recently in a modern movie. In the first Deadpool film, the Marvel anti-hero dispensed of one of his adversaries in an in-car fight by making him swallow one whole. Anyone under 30 must have wondered where the glowing metal stub came from!

Cassette players

Currently, CD players in cars are slowly being phased out as more and more drivers connect to Spotify through their infotainment systems via Bluetooth. Therefore, the days of raffling through every CD case in the car to find the desired album (because every disc has been put into the wrong sleeve) are almost behind us.

In-car Mini Discsplayers came and went quicker than Usain Bolt over 100 metres, but prior to this came the in-car cassette player. Young people will never understand what it is like to have to flip over a cassette half way through an album or to drive whilst wrestling with an 80m magnetic tape worm!

About The Author:

Flexed Car Leasing are specialists in 28 day car leasing. To lease a car with all the mod cons from 28 days up to a year, please visit the Flexed website!

1 Apr 2019

Somebody Almost Killed Me On My Ride Home Today - By Not Being Observant

I'm a very experienced motorcyclist. I only passed my test when I was 32 but I've spent the following 16 years riding on average 8,000 miles a year.

I ride in winter and in the rain. I commute and tour and ride for fun on a weekend and summer evening. On the bike I constantly think about my skills and how I can improve them. I know my limits and I enjoy pushing them so I can understand more about the bike and myself.

I'm a fast rider and, I think, I'm a safe rider. I concentrate and think and observe and react according to conditions and hazards and other road users. But sometimes you cannot prepare for an event and it just smacks you right in the face and you have to deal with it there and then.

On my commute home today somebody almost killed me - and he didn't even know about it until it was too late.

My commute is 15 miles of roads that are tree lined, winding, poorly paved and with elevation changes. I'm often stuck behind people trundling along at 40mph in a 60mph limit. I will overtake as soon as is safe. When the traffic comes to a stop for a set of lights or roundabout I will filter past them.

I'm confident and happy to ride quickly if conditions allow. On the way into work this morning I overtook a car who was ignorant of his surroundings, and the fact I was in them until I appeared in front of him, and beeped his horn in anger. I ignored him in his ridiculous Audi Q8 and sped off.

This kind of thing happens often. Car drivers in their steel safety cages - unaware and detached from their environment in their own little bubble. They look down at their phones - I see dozens of them every day - and rely on peripheral vision and driver aids to steer them right. And if they do crash their cars are safe enough to save them from major damage.

We bikers have to be on red alert at ALL TIMES.

Unfortunately on the way home I wasn't quite on red alert. The road was clear and dry and the light was good. Perfect riding conditions. I was happy and I let my mind wander just a little. I was thinking of things other than my immediate surroundings.

I was travelling at 60mph and there was nothing ahead of me except a junction on the right and a parking area on the left - the one in the image above. I observed that there were no cars parked on the left and no-one was waiting on the right.

But then all of a sudden there was something. A grey Honda CR-V. It didn't stop, pulled right on to the road ahead of me. I was travelling at 27 metres a second and he was pulling out of the junction at 5mph.

I first saw him with about 70 metres distance between us. Me doing 60mph and him slowly pulling across the right hand carriageway and into mine at walking speed.

The following three seconds happened in slow motion.

My brain allowed me to think and do several things at once.

The first - pull the brake lever HARD. But not grab it - it has to be progressive. My tires are in good condition and are a good brand but 300kg of bike and rider being pulled to a stop with a contact patch the size of a credit card means no matter how good the rubber the way you brake counts as much as how hard you brake.

Get the initial bite right and then you can pull as hard as you like. Grab at the lever and you can lock up, skid and fall down. If I did this I'd probably die.

Once the tyre was engaged with the road and started to compress - half a second at most - I pulled at it for all my life.

And it did feel like my life could be stopped short. The driver was totally unaware and was not giving me space either side. By the time I arrived at him he would be diagonal across the lane, just short of fully straightening up.

I thought about heading to his right but then if I did go down I could be hit by an oncoming car - and that would certainly be fatal.

I thought about heading to his left but the bank was steep and dusty and this would affect grip. I would certainly fall down and may end up overtaking him whilst falling over and possibly ending up under his wheels.

Instead I opted to stay in the middle where the grip would be at its highest. And it is most efficient to brake in a straight line.

As all this happened, as I hurtled toward the rear of the Honda, I thought about my son at home. What he would think and how he would react if someone called at the door and told him his Dad had been killed. I thought about my dog and what would happen to her if I wasn't around.

All of this happened in three seconds and 75 metres. My teeth gritted, my eyes on stalks I came within 12 inches of the CRV's rear bumper.

Immediately the "emergency mode" my brain had been in turned to "red mist". I overtook the Honda, by this point doing 40, and gesticulated at him. The driver, a middle aged Asian man, had obviously not seen me. He had no idea why I was waving my arms and ranting at him.

He had pulled out of a side road and not looked to see if there was anybody coming. Attempted murder by total ignorance.

After forcing him to slow to a crawl, further arm gesticulation from me and blank and bewildered  faces from him I realised he really had no idea what was going on. I sped off but after half a mile found somewhere to pull over and stopped for five minutes to compose myself.

He passed me and I waited a while. By then I'd calmed down and thought I ought to put some distance between him and me.

I reflected as I rode home. I take risks every time I go out on the bike. You can be the best and most experienced motorcyclist in the land but there will always be someone waiting to kill you with their ignorance.

All you can do is be as prepared as possible. I'll never stop biking just because of uneducated ignoramuses. I just have to resolve to manage my response to them as best as possible.


Matt Hubbard

27 Mar 2019

Seat Mii Review

My son turns 17 this year and in the UK this means he's eligible to drive - once he passes the test. In anticipation of the big event I've been taking him to Mercedes World at Brooklands for under 17s driving lessons. 

He started at age 14 in a B 180 CDI and has since driven an A 200, ML 350 and, most recently, A45 AMG. All these lessons took place within the confines of Mercedes' own tracks at Brooklands. The ML drive was at their off road circuit and the A 45 AMG was at their fastest track and on the drag strip.

So I'm the kind of parent who wants their child to be ready to go when it comes to driving. Fact is I wanted him to be able to drive a car before he turned 17 so that during his lessons on the road he'll be able to focus on road craft and hazards. In over 30 years of driving I've not had a single crash. I'd like to do my best to ensure my son has a chance of having a similar crash-free record.

As a petrol-head I wanted to buy him a decent car in readiness for his birthday. In 2016 we went on holiday to Ibiza and hired a Fiat 500 convertible. We razzed around the island in this thing and had a ball. We loved it. The steering was light, the driving position bloody awful and the entire experience fun.

So we decided his first car would be a Fiat 500.

In 2017 we holidayed in Majorca and hired a Smart ForFour, the one based on the Renault Twingo with the engine under the boot floor, and it was awful. We definitely weren't buying one of those.

So I spent every moment looking at Fiat 500s. I wanted to spend £2,000 and there were lots in budget. Trouble is every single one I looked at had a long list of MOT advisories. Frequent issues were rusty springs, bodywork issues, loose ball joints, failing brakes and holes in exhausts. We went to see a couple and they were dreadful.

And the dealers selling them (there were almost none for sale privately) were gormless idiots who seemed not to think that a service history was important. They thought polishing the tyres and the dashboard was more attractive than the engine being looked after by a decent garage.

Eventually I gave up and started to look at VW Up!s. I had to up the budget to £3,000 and even so there weren't many around. I found one local to me at a car supermarket. It had a history - though it looked super dodgy with the same hand writing in the service book - and the price was OK. Then when I said I'd buy it they added £200 on the price as an 'administrative fee'. 

I baulked at this and tried to negotiate but they came down real heavy. We went to see the manager who sat at his desk trying on all the usual bulls*t tactics, stroking his handlebar moustache as he looked at his computer, typed some stuff, looked at me, sucked his teeth and said he couldn't remove the fee.

We walked, They phoned and tried to talk more. I'd had enough. We stayed away. Cowboys.

Then I found a Seat Mii at a dealer down in Sussex. It was new enough and had highish mileage but a service history to support it.

I went down to Horsham to see it. It was lovely. It drove well and seemed an honest car. Hallelujah! I had found an honest dealer selling an honest car!!!! I negotiated £200 off the price and told the dealer I would get the car picked up, at which point he offered to deliver it for £100. I agreed.

Since then I have driven the Mii several hundred miles and enjoyed every single one of them.

It is black and is an SE. It's very important not to buy the base model.

The Seat Mii, VW Up! and Skoda Citigo are identical with the exception of front grille and badges - and colour schemes. The base model for all is very basic. No alloy wheels, no electric windows, no ESC, no split rear seats, no air conditioning, no central locking, no remote entry and no seat height adjust. The SE trim has all these. The base model also has a plastic steering wheel. Urgh, no thanks.

Our SE also has a predominantly white interior with black and grey inserts and looks very cool. It reminds me of a 1970s sci-fi palette. The materials are hard wearing and the plastics look and feel good. I particularly like the white dash trim which is hard and smooth and doesn't feel scratchy and cheap.

The dials are clear but when you adjust the driver's seat to suit you cannot see the top of the speedo. Apparently this is common to all three models.

The steering wheel adjusts for rake but not reach, and it could really do with it. As such the driving position for anyone of normal dimensions is compromised. Your knees and ankles bend a little too much - but not as much as in an Alfa Romeo.

The interior is spacious and is well designed with deep door pockets and a shelf to put your phone, out of the way of temptation for the youngsters who would normally drive it.

The stereo system is clear and powerful enough. It has an aux-in which means I've been able to fit a cheap but good quality bluetooth.

The Mii, Up! and Citigo only come with one engine - a 1-litre, 3-cylinder - and four different power outputs. Ours is the most common, the 60PS (59bhp in English). It produces 70lb ft of torque and has a 5-speed manual gearbox. The car weighs 929kg and it does 0-60mph in 14.4 seconds.

This is only half the story.

The Mii doesn't feel so slow. The engine sounds buzzy and rorty and is eager to rev. It has real character - a rarity in this day and age - and pulls nicely until 5,000rpm when it starts to run out of puff. The gearbox is light and slick.

Turn a corner and the Mii doesn't provide class leading feedback but it is sharp enough. You get a smidgen of body roll - it may be light but it is relatively tall - but it is fun to hoon around a series of bends.

And you can do all this without using seemingly any fuel. Official combined fuel consumption is 63mpg and it achieves this effortlessly. The needle on ours hardly moves and I've only filled it up once in a month despite almost daily journeys.

Finally the Mii is a practical car. The rear seats are plenty big enough and the boot is much bigger than in the Fiat 500. It also has enough space at the top to put a dog in (which you can't do in a Fiat 500), though the floor is very low. I've had to build a boot floor out of MDF and foam for our dog, which is a few inches higher than that in the car when it arrived. 

The Mii has really surprised me. It is small outside but large inside. It is comfortable but it is buzzy and good to drive. It is simple but sophisticated. I think we bought the right car.

By Matt Hubbard

24 Mar 2019

Driving Around the Cotswolds in Classic British Cars

I recently had the opportunity to drive a handful of classic cars. It was organised by Great Escape Cars as a day for journalists and bloggers and replicated their Cotswolds Highlights Tour.

I arrived at 9.30am at Great Escape's unit in Redditch - right at the south end of the Midlands and almost touching the Cotswolds. They're located down a road full of industrial units. You drive past the usual light industrial stuff...and then you see it.

Where most units' car parks are full of Transits and pickups and Corsa vans Great Escapes' is full of cars from the 80s, 70s and even 60s. This is automotive heaven.

If you book a tour with Great escapes you'll likely meet Graham Eason. I've known him for a few years as we hired an E-Type from him for my 40th (an eternity ago. And a jolly 24 hours we had.)

After we had introduced ourselves to each other and grabbed a drink Graham explained their recent change in philosophy. The business used to hire a classic car out for a day or so but now they've realised that what most customers want is a taster of each car. An hour or so in the car of their dreams.

This might sound odd but, trust me, it isn't. When we drove the E-Type it was awesome for the first couple of hours. And then it rained so we had to put the hood up. And that wasn't entirely draft-proof, which old cars aren't. And it was cold, and steamed up a bit. And after a while the whole experience started to become slightly less awesome because classic cars are also old cars and old cars don't have the dynamics of modern cars.

Anyway, back to the present. Graham promised us we'd enjoy this format. We would drive five cars over the course of a day. If you're a paying customer you get to choose which cars but our cars were chosen for us. A few people took the trouble to check out the current fleet (it does change) and put requests in.

You share a car with someone. You can swap around as much as you want but stay with your partner over the course of the day. Happily an old friend had suggested we partner up.

Our first car was a Jaguar XJS V6 in red. Knowing we'd be in another XJS later in the day my friend did all the driving for the for first leg. It was an 80s Jag and as such was clad in leather and wood (none of your modern veneer either but actual chunks of wood) and was smooth and refined as you'd expect. What I had totally forgotten about old cars is quite how small the interiors are.  The cabin was snug and everything much closer than you'd get in a modern car. There was also no storage space.  Like, none. I had a bottle of water which I had to put in the footwell and everything else went on the back seat. Each stage is around 45 minutes and 20 miles and I thoroughly enjoyed navigating using the Great Escapes amazingly comprehensive instructions.

After a tea break (literally, at Broadway Tower) it was my turn to drive and the next car was one of the jewels in the Great Escapes' crown.

The car was the mighty HMC. This is essentially an Austin Healey 3000 MkIII. You would imagine it's from the 1960s or 70s but in reality this car was built in 1999. You'd never know it though as it's a faithful replica of the original car.

You climb in to the cramped cockpit, all tan leather and wood and the steering wheel is in your lap. You move the chair back little but the wheel is still in your lap. The A-pillar is also far closer to your face than you're comfortably used to in modern cars.

Everything is at hand. Behold! There is a small recess in which you can dump your mobile but that's it. Insert the key and fire up the engine and...WOAH!
HMC interior

This HMC isn't fitted with the original Healey 2.6 or 3.0 inline-6. Instead it has a modern(ish) Rover 3.9 V8.


Blip the throttle. More fabulous. Engage 1st and ease the clutch and feel the grunt. I used to own a Discovery 2 with this exact same engine and it was far quieter and more refined in the Landie. In the HMC you feel it, you hear it and you engage with it.

The gearbox is remarkably good. The throw of the gearbox is short. It's nothing like as smooth as, say a modern Fiesta or Golf, but it is comfortably mechanical.

The HMC is great fun to drive. There is no room for your right arm so it sits atop the door. The sound and grunt of the engine carries you along on a wave of enthusiasm. You laugh with your passenger at the experience of barreling along in the thing. People look at you, you acknowledge them with the briefest nod of the head. You enjoy.

After a decent drive in the HMC we stopped for lunch at the relatively new Caffeine and Machine cafe and gawped at the machinery coming and going in the car park. They've really found a niche and have located their premises perfectly. Engineers from JLR and Aston Martin turned up in amazing machinery and someone turned up in Ferrari Daytona to go get a coffee and watch people gawp at his car.

After lunch we were given the keys to a Mk2 Jaguar. Now this would be a far different experience to the HMC. The Mk2 was manufactured in 1965 and was powered by a 3.8 litre inline-6 engine.
Jaguar Mk2 3.8

The Mk2 was designed in the 1950s and it feels it. You climb in and it feels like you're sitting in a museum. It's relatively spacious but there's still no cubby space to put a phone or drink.

Leather and wood abound. Great planks of wood, hewn from logs and planed, sanded and varnished by craftsmen. The colours are beiges and tans, natural in look, feel and smell.

The driving position is OK. The chair is comfortable but a bit too upright. Adjustment is minimal. The steering wheel is large, wooden and thin. The engine fires up from a Bakelite button in the middle of the dash and is incredibly smooth.

The getaway is anything but smooth. It takes quite some time to get used to but you kangaroo away from the off the first few times you try. On my first ever drive - from a fuel station on a main road - I hadn't shut the door properly so as we lurched down the road the door flew open and I cursed and almost fell out of the car as I grabbed the door to pull it closed. My passenger and I laughed so much it hurt our ribs.

Having driven one before I know the Mk2 has pretty vague steering but this one was quite good. You don't want to drive too fast in it but it surprised.  I enjoyed our spin in the old girl.

Next up was my turn in an XJS. In 1985 I was 14 and that year a film called The Supergrass was released. It was a Comic Strip film with the usual Comic Strip cast and featured Adrian Edmonson and Jennifer Saunders driving down to Cornwall in an XJS. Ever since then I've loved the XJS. It was cool then and it is cool now.
Jaguar XHS V12

Only now it is an old car. 'Our' XJS was a blue 5.3 V12 built in 1988. Back then it was rivalled only by the 911 as the ultimate sports coupe.

They say that you shouldn't meet your heros. In this case I was glad I did.

The XJS' cabin is cramped. Once in the comfortable seat you could touch the windscreen with the palm of your hand (please don't, I have a thing about fingerprints on windows). The pedals and wheel are perfectly placed.

The controls are pretty basic and are formed by big switches and dials. Each side of the cockpit has their own ashtray and the glovebox opens down to form a perfectly flat surface with a mirror which I cannot for the life of me imagine would be useful to a yuppie in 1988...

Fire up the engine and... Is it on? Yes you can feel it. Blip the throttle and you can feel it twist. This is an engine with modesty. It has power and it has torque but it does not feel the need to shout about them. They can be accessed when necessary but it prefers smoothness and effortlessness.

Slip it into drive and and the steering feels oily smooth. The Jaguar virgin might think this is simply too much lightness but it is a feature that dictates the feel of a true Jag right up to the present day.

Slip and slide along at speed and the V12 XJS simply glides with your steering inputs minimal.

The bonnet is as massive as the windscreen is close. All in all this was one hero I was glad to meet. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with the XJS.

Our final drive of the day was a Triumph Herald. This was a stand in for the Morris Minor Traveller who's dynamo gave upon the ghost.
Triumph Herald

People who knew about these things did not give us good feedback on the lowly Herald.

With some trepidation we clambered aboard. It was tiny and open. The day was overcast but dry. If it had started raining I'm sure we could have pulled up the hood but I'm not sure how.

We pulled away and were surprised. Sure the tiny Herald is a tiny car with virtually no room for anything in the cabin, but the engine was sprightly. It's the 1400cc from the Spitfire and sounded great, especially as you cruise along on a trailing throttle.

The steering was pretty vague and the gears were...not always easy to engage. Third was a particular challenge. But my co-driver and I found the whole experience charming.

We found that the top speed of the Herald was around 50mph, after which the engine and gearbox felt stressed enough, and the brakes' capacity to come to a safe stop was about as much as was safe.

But stay under 50 and it was a hoot.

We'd set off from Redditch at 10am and at 3.30pm eased back in to the road leading to the unit occupied by Great Escapes.

The day had been fabulous fun. The cars were brilliant to drive and I'd met my hero, the XJS, and had not been disappointed.

Graham had been right to restructure the business towards shorter drives in lots of cars. More than an hour or so in most would be a little too much. Although I could quite happily steer the XJS all day.

By Matt Hubbard

30 Jan 2019

2008 BMW 320d M Sport E90 Video Review

I've owned my BMW 320d M Sport E90 since last June which for me is an eternity! So I thought I'd better get around to filming a video about it.

I've previously written about the car which you can read here and here.

28 Sept 2018

Why I Hated My BMW 320d And Wanted To Sell It - And Then Fell In Love With It Again

I'd bought the 320d. I'd justified it to myself. I was going to keep it. I owned it outright and I didn't want to make any monthly payments. I liked it. So what if it had 200,000 miles on the clock. It ran well and it was comfy and fast and drove well. I'd made my peace with it.

But it had started getting slower. It had started to feel a bit clogged up. All was not well. But I put it out of my mind. I continued using it day to day, short trips and long trips.


Until a light came on the dashboard, between the speedo and the rev counter. And it was accompanied by a bong. Or maybe a chime. Whatever it was it was not good.

I could have Googled it but I took a photo and put it on Twitter.  The answers came back straight away. All the same.

DPF. Diesel Particulate Filter. Uh? What the hell was a DPF? So I Googled that. It was not good. To cut a long story short a DPF is a filter somewhere in the exhaust system that filters out all the diesel particulates (that as a motorcyclist I can feel in my eyes when following an older bus or taxi in London).

This terrified me. What had I done by buying a diesel? Maybe I should sell the car and buy a petrol. This was a sorry state of affairs.

I went online. Halfords promised to clear out your DPF for a mere £85. Phew! I booked an appointment and a mechanic friend took it there to see if he could learn anything. Sadly not, they said it would take 4 hours so he went for a very long and boring coffee. 4 hours later it was done. £85 poorer but the DPF light had gone out. Job done, scare over.

The next day the DPF light came on again.

I did some more investigation. I consulted many forums where many ill-informed people gave many opinions on what to do, or not. Sell it they said. It's knackered they said. Don't buy a diesel they said. A new one would be £1500 they said.

Not helpful. I did my own investigations. I could buy a new one off eBay for £800. Or alternatively there was a company in Maidenhead who would clear it through for £250. This looked a good and sensible solution, but would it work?

I asked my mechanic friend to call them and book an appointment. We agreed that he would remove the DPF - even though we had no idea where it was or what it looked like - and take it there, get it cleaned and then reinstall it. Great theory but would it work out?

Meantime I had started to hate the car. It let me down and I don't like being let down by mechanical machinery. I like reliability. I talked myself into buying a Mk5 Golf GTI. I spent every waking hour searching Autotrader and eBay.

The BMW started driving terribly. It went into limp mode a few times and would only drive at 25% power.

I discounted 95% of GTIs on sale. Wrong colour, too many miles, not enough history, no cruise control, no heated seats, the dealer sounded like a cowboy (80% of them), too far away, weird stains on seats, not clean enough, mods I didn't like.

But I found one. It was 80 miles from home. The seller sold it really hard. I wanted a discount but he wouldn't give one. I pushed, he pushed back. OK I agreed, I'll come see it and will probably buy it. It looked amazing. So one evening after work my mechanic friend and I travelled 2 hours and met the seller and his car.


Earlier that day my friend had jacked the BMW up and removed the DPF in under 2 hours. It was much easier than expected. He drove it to Maidenhead and it was thoroughly cleaned. It had been blocked almost solid. No amount of recharging by Halfords would have fixed it. Only a deep bath and jet clean with detergents could fix it, and fix it they did. It cost £180 (trade rates) and my friend reinstalled it in an hour.
The Diesel Particulate Filter

The Golf looked fabulous. But a little too shiny. A little too clean. I drove it. It was nice but not as spectacular as I'd been led to believe. The timing belt hadn't been changed for 50,000 miles. This was a concern. I actually preferred the BMW's driving experience. I asked that if I bought it would he consider not cancelling the tax until the next day. He refused.

I thought this was mean spirited but I did agree to buy the car. Some part of my mind was saying no but another part said yes. We agreed the price - the price he had asked - he was so confident he could sell it for the full price. I used my banking app and it didn't work. Hmmm? I phoned my bank. The funds wouldn't clear until the next day.

Snap. That was it. There and then I realised I had done the wrong thing. Fate showed me what I should have seen already. I walked away.

We drove home and only then did I start to realise quite what a difference there was in the BMW. It pulled stronger than it had ever done. The DPF had obviously been quite blocked when I bought it and this had only got worse until it got to the point it started to produce warnings.

By the time we were home I decided I would keep the BMW. I actually loved it and I should never have gone to see the Golf.

But actually I should have. It had been a cathartic experience and I learned lessons. I know I have some kind of syndrome. I call it impulsiveness and I've always had it and it's cost me a fortune in cars I've bought and sold and lost money on. Whatever it is and whatever trendy name might be applied to it matters not.

As soon as something went wrong I wanted rid of the BMW. It took the experience of realising the grass wasn't greener with the Golf to realise I preferred the BMW in the first place and that I shouldn't have gone looking for something else. I should have just fixed it and been done but I couldn't help it. It's for this reason I bought a Yamaha R1 and crashed it and it's for this reason I bought a Porsche 911 and lost £5,000 when the engine blew almost immediately. Sometimes I just cannot help myself - no matter what anyone says.

But, whatever. Lessons learned. I had the BMW and I liked it again.

But there were a few things that needed fixing if I was to keep it. It had satnav via a TomTom but it needed Bluetooth. CDs are too 2000s for me. I need to be able to play music from my phone. I had been using the aux-in cable but saw on the Honest John website a review of Bluetooth units. They recommended the Anker Roav Bluetooth Adapter. They gave it 9/10 so I ordered one.

It arrived the next day and was a plug and play affair. It just needed a USB connection for power and an aux-in port and both are under the armrest. Once plugged in I connected my phone and, honestly, I was amazed. The sound quality is fantastic. I get in, start the engine and press the button on the unit and music plays from my phone. Perfect.
The Bluetooth Adapter

The next job was to fix the headlights. They were pathetic. I had replaced the bulbs with upgraded xenon bulbs but they were still pathetic. The lights only lit a short amount of road ahead of the car. I investigated the mechanical adjustment but it seemed to do nothing. It was obviously broken.

Mechanic friend was booked to take the front end of the car apart so he could remove the headlight units and hopefully bodge a repair. This he did earlier today. It took two hours to get the headlights out. Once off the car we could see the adjuster on both lights had been sheered off the actual light unit at some point in the past so that the light's default setting was to point at the floor.

He fixed them by using Q-Bond adhesive. An amazing engineering bodge that has worked. It took an hour to put it all back together and once it had gone dark I took it for a test drive.

Instantly I knew things were better. The road ahead was lit - a little too much. I was headed for a quiet country lane but had to follow a Citroen Xsara Picasso doing 25mph and weaving around the place. He beeped me a few times as my lights were illuminating the inside of his car.

I stopped and adjusted the lights and drove on. A few cars flashed their lights at me so I stopped and adjusted some more. I repeated this a few times and finally was happy I had a setup that worked and no other drivers flashed their lights at me.
Fixing the headlights

And that was it. I finally had a car that did everything I wanted. The DPF had been fixed and thereafter it was reliable. It had a sound system that worked to my liking and headlights that would light the road ahead.

And so we are. I like my car. It may not have cost much and it had a few faults and they have been fixed. It has been made good and how I like it.

So now I love it and I don't want another car.

I hope it stays this way. I cannot say my impulsive nature won't cause me to want to sell it and buy something newer and faster and perhaps not as good but I will do my best not to do so.

By Matt Hubbard