Motoring
Everything comes in threes
Alan Judd Iwound up the old Rover the other day to take her for a spin. In fact, she's not mine but my uncle's and, being a 1973 P6 3500S — the 1960s shape first known as the Rover 2000 — she's not old as Rovers go. Nor does she really need winding up because the rebuilt V8 starts very easily. Nor did we spin very far. My uncle wants to sell her, having lost his garage, so she lives in our barn and I take her out every week or two.
Each time I do I'm struck by how much cars have changed in the last quarter of this century. Without power steering, you need that big wheel and you need to treat cor- ners with respect. There's no lack of power — rather the contrary — but you have to drive these cars all the time. You can't fling them carelessly about or trot around absent-mindedly, trusting to modern brakes and suspension to do your thinking for you. They'll put you in the next ditch if you do, and that's why I think it's good for learners to learn on older cars. You can feel there's a road and you know you're clinging to something heavy that might not go the way you point it or stop when you want.
That's what happened to me in the Rover. Fortunately, I wasn't going for any records but was pulling slowly out of our drive on to the road, facing downhill, when instead of the usual solid feel to the brake pedal there was a startling degree of travel, a full extension of my arilde and the unmis- takable feel of floor. There were no brakes at all but there was a steep hill and a dis- tinct sensation of gathering speed. It's curi- ous how irrationally one acts sometimes, even when you know you're doing so. My first — useless — reaction was to press harder on the floor. After that I pumped the brakes a few times — no result — then, with handbrake full on, steered gently into the bank. No damage, fortunately, and no other cars to witness my reversal up hill. Next, a careful run down our steep drive and a delicately negotiated return to the barn, where she has remained, silent and rather sorry for herself, ever since.
The P6 Rovers were a radically new design in the early Sixties, elegant, safe and practical, and even now they seem curious- ly undated. They are dated to drive, of course, but enjoyable and comfortable. Police forces liked the 3500S and they'd have liked this one particularly because my uncle fitted the later, five-speed SDI gear- box. No one has been to fix the brakes yet but my guess is it's a seal cracked and dried out through lack of use. The reservoir was empty of fluid.
These things come in threes, though. I was driving my Land-Rover on a frosty morning, taking it very easy because there was black ice about. I entered an S bend with almost maternal gentleness, light throttle, just touching the wheel, not touch- ing the brakes at all — and lost it com- pletely. Quite suddenly we were broadsiding along the other side of the road, heading for the next sweep of the bend. I steered into the skid and came out but, as usually happens, I'd over-compen- sated so we careered on, broadsiding the other way towards an immaculate drive, lawn and gateposts. All this took about three and a half seconds and felt like a fortnight. At some point during the fort- night I decided to go all the way round with the skid rather than against it, in an attempt to avoid ramming the brick posts. Luckily, it worked and we glided backwards between them, like a well-handled liner docking, and came sedately to rest in the middle of the- drive without touching a blade of the immaculate frosted lawn. I felt I'd just discovered I could do ballet, but didn't wait to be congratulated by the householders.
I now think I may have caused the skid by too great an easing of the throttle as I entered the bend, thus reducing the for- ward drive of my four driven wheels. As for over-compensating when you steer into a skid, it seems almost inevitable in a short wheel base vehicle that, if you wait to feel yourself coming out of the skid before straightening, it's too late to stop yourself going the other way. You've therefore got to act as if your tactic has worked before you know it has.
I once spent an enjoyable couple of hours on the Road Research Laboratory's skid-pan, but there's a big difference between what you can do with acres of space around you and what you manage in three and a half seconds on a narrow coun- try B road. However, I hope next month to be able to report progress in this respect.
Given the tripartite nature of things, I thought I'd anticipate my third loss of con- trol in this current series by doing it delib- erately. I've booked a day with Paul Ripley's Driving Courses in Yorkshire in which you're given an old aerodrome and a number of toys, including an AMG Mer- cedes E55, a Sierra Cosworth, a Formula Ford single-seater racer and — long my secret yearning — a double-decker bus. Hold on tight, please.
Previous page
