MOTORING
Tail-Lights for Cyclists Among the expected recommendations in the report of the House of Lords' Select Committee about to be published, I gather an important one will be compulsory tail-lights for cyclists. This has always been an extremely vexed question, and for years gave rise to the most passionate discussion, the various bodies representing drivers of cars of all types de- manding legislation and the cyclists, whose numbers run into millions, objecting on various grounds, the chief of which have been understood to be principle. Other reasons against any regulations compelling them to carry tail-lamps have included the, to my mind, not very sound one of the problem of making a lamp which would stay alight on ordinary rough roads. It is difficult to believe that, should tail-lamps be made compulsory, the electrical accessory- makers of this country would be unable to get over this difficulty.
The Case Against Compulsion In this connexion there was an interesting letter last week in the Daily Telegraph, signed by representatives of the Cyclists' Touring Club, National Association of Cycle Traders, National Cyclists' Union, the chairman of the National Committee of Cycling and the National Clarion Cycling Club, quoting figures from the last report on the 71,622 road accidents reviewed in Great Britain during the year. Of these 8,294 were accidents caused by collision with the back of a bicycle; only 3,509 occurred during the hours of darkness ; and only 8o arose from the ineffectiveness of the cycle's reflector or the lack of that and any other rear warning. The signatories, in pointing out that in no case was the absence of a rear light the cause of an accident among the 71,622 reviewed, concluded that there is no evi- dence for compulsion in the interests of the cyclists' own safety.
A Natural Obligation Here is indeed a superb example of figures proving nothing useful. If these prove anything it is the extra- ordinary care shown by the average driver of a motor vehicle. Nobody who has had the nerve-shattering experience of narrowly missing collision with an unlighted bicycle—in most instances, I should imagine, due to the black-out, mechanical or visionary, which is produced by some of the dip-and-switch systems—is likely to agree that on these or any other figures there is still no need for rear lights on bicycles. There might in some cases be hardship in that the lamps themselves would add to the price of the machine (though as soon as regulations were put into force, obviously every new machine would be equipped with one, as cars have to be with unsplinterable glass and other safety devices) but that does not seem to be any reason why so large a body of road users should be exempt from the obligation accepted by every other form of mechanical transport to make their contribution to the general safety.
The 16 Humber There were some telling points about the 16 Humber saloon I tried a few weeks ago, points which should make an appeal to that increasing body of motorists who like power and size, at a moderate price. To begin with the six- windowed body is really roomy, capable of carrying five people and luggage up to five suit-cases outside the car itself. The rubber-stuffed upholstery is comfortable, the seats pro- perly raked, and one can arrange to get fresh air without draughts by controlling the hinged quarter-lights at the back. The back seat has a dividing arm-rest and excellent supports are provided for the elbows of the two front passengers as well as the back. A feature I have never met before is the choice of a single bench front seat, at an extra charge. The car is nicely finished inside, the instrument board well arranged, with a lock-up cubby. The steering column is telescopic, as it should be in every car.
A Practical Car The six-cylinder engine is of the familiar design, side- valved, bore and stroke 67.5 by 120, giving a cubic capacity of 21 litres and a tax-rating of Liz is. The four-speed gear-box is synchromeshed on top and third and the ratios are 4.8, 7.1, 12 and 18 to one, generally speaking an effective calculation and, in the two higher gears, refreshingly high for a Six. On top and third I was able to achieve over 70 and over 50 miles an hour and on both I thought the com- bination of acceleration and flexibility commendable. Third is a really useful climbing speed and on second I was able to climb a very steep hill in the same time as the 31-litre Hum- ber of three years ago. The other good points that struck me were the steady steering, not specially light but eminently trustworthy ; the quite first-class brakes ; and the silence and smooth running of the engine. The only criti- cisms I have to make are on the rather low roof and the shallow windscreen. It costs £345.
The Green Woodpecker The road ran grey before us, a straggling line Of tarred chalk between the wind-bent clumps. We could not see over the last rise and the horizon of the Hampshire downs just here is disappointingly close. Vaguely we knew that we were fairly high up and that there should be a view before long. And then a flash of all the most violent colours the sunshine can make, and the dull road came alive. A green wood- pecker shot down from the trees, alighted for a scared second five yards ahead of the car and flew in front of us. While he fluttered radiant, incredible, something from a Brazilian jungle, wholly impossible in that pale English landscape, oddly reminding me of the shrill, feathery flight of parrots, he filled the place with tropic sunlight. Even against the sober green of the firs and larches he dazzled one's eyes. Looking like a handful of amber and emeralds thrown into thz. air, he shot out of sight and into the beeches that stand about Stoner Hill.
Stoner Hill The woodpecker belonged in that instant of clear sun- shine to glades ten thousand miles from these Hampshire spinneys. With his gleaming disappearance the homely sky came close again and we topped the rise of Stoner, a shoulder of the downs in the most English of counties.
English Jungle It is a hill you must both climb and descend. As you creep up from the Portsmouth Road, near Petersfield, you enter dense woods, impenetrable on your left where they come down from the invisible sky, broken with windows on your right. There are one or two generous bends in the road and from these you get glimpses of the countryside below. Darkness and light together, as one is led to under- stand happens in jungles where jewelled birds are much commoner than English green woodpeckers. By reason those bends you get entirely different views over the gra landscape, established, unchanged these thousand yea. when you turn round at the top and come down again. Ms the Brazilian forest is on your right now, the tree-framei. pictures in that matchless gallery on your left.
JOHN PRIOLEAU.
[Note.—Readers' requests for advice from our Motoring Correspondent on the choice of new cars should be accom- panied by a stamped and addressed envelope. The highest price payable must be given, as well as the type of body required. No advice can be given on the purchase, sale or exchange of used cars.]
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