Up East Lomond

14^th June 2010

With less than a week until Henry & I were due to compete in our first rally together, it was time to get an idea of what he could do.  The 2010 Thistle Rallye was due to take place on Saturday 19^th June and as it did so it would travel across four Scottish districts.  Although Henry had more than proven his ability to cope with distance (see previous article To Scotland With Love), I was a little unsure about how he’d fare over the demanding inclines and numerous tricky corners that are so characteristic of rural roads in Scotland. 

What would Henry make of the highlands and was me thinking him able to compete on these rugged roads against other classic cars unreasonable?  I hoped not for these were the very kind of roads that are appealing to me as a budding driver.  For years I’ve believed that twisting rural roads sum up what driving is all about. Stitched deep into the romance of driving are the many twists, turns and challenges that rural roads possess.  At times, travelling along them is a way of tapping into spirituality - the rural roads somehow able to offer something so much more than the regular urban commute ever can. 

As the rally got ever nearer, I was feeling increasingly motivated for taking on its challenges. However, in the back of my mind, I was wondering if it was all a daunting request to put to an unmodified saloon which was now fifty-three years old and with it’s sixth owner.  Having a pre-rally run in the highlands themselves was too far to travel for an answer so my partner Chris & I decided on an alternative ‘test’ venue in the local area.

East Lomond (1424 ft) is a round-topped hill that can be seen from our upstairs windows.  The peak of East Lomond has long been a familiar sight whilst I’ve lived in Glenrothes.  It was always visible when I stayed at my parent’s house and is still just as easily seen as Chris & I live together on the other side of town.  We were hopeful that a journey up the road leading to East Lomond would show us what Henry might make of the up-coming rally’s demands and so, on a warm June evening, we drove him out towards Falkland just as the sun was beginning to set into the horizon.

A view of East Lomond from nearby Leslie

Henry drove keenly along the A912 between the New Inn roundabout and Falkland before a road sign directed us left and up the slope towards the Mast Car Park - the highest point that you can drive to within Fife. 

East Lomond is the only hill in Fife that has a road winding up the majority of its slope.  Most of the climb can therefore be tackled with a car before walking boots are needed to complete the ascent to the peak.  The road has an average incline of 1:10 and is lined with old stonewall, trees and heath.   I’ve cycled the road and it’s a challenging climb. The last straight stretch, leading to the car park, is especially noticeable as there are no more corners to distract you from the effort you’re putting in to make it to the top.  Henry was now driving slower than he’d done down on the main road but everything seemed well.  Perhaps I wasn’t yet used to the capabilities of older cars but I will admit that I had expected him to struggle a little. Henry’s engine chugged on and took us all the way up to the radio masts at the top of the road. We pulled into the car park and stopped to take in the view.

Henry parked near the East Lomond radio masts    

You can see a surprising proportion of Fife and beyond from up on East Lomond.  Around the base of the hill sits the town of Glenrothes and the villages of Falkland, Strathmiglo and Gateside.  Beyond the edge of Fife and to the south lies the glistening Firth of Forth, Edinburgh and the ports of Leith & North Berwick.  To the north, you can look towards Auchtermuchty, Newburgh & Perth.  On a good, clear day you can see further still to mountains such as Cairn Toul (4241 ft) in the Cairngorms and Glas Moal (3502 ft) in Glenshee.  For those of us who live alongside East Lomond, it can be easy to take the summit and the far-out views for granted but as we sat in Henry, Chris & I admired the surrounding scenery, passing a pair of binoculars between us to get the finer details of what lay below.  

Looking south towards Edinburgh & Leith.  The Forth can be seen as a thin blue strip in the distance, Edinburgh lies to the right.

A Yellowhammer (Emberiza citrinella) sings proudly in the heath beneath the East Lomond mast car park.

Whilst we’d been occupied with looking around, even better views had been getting enjoyed far beyond where Henry was parked.  Murray Hay and a companion began making their way down the trails that stretch between the hill summit and the car park, passing us as they did so with laden rucksacks and an air of contentment.  They’d been paragliding over the top of East Lomond in the last of the fading light. 

Murray’s companion packed his equipment into his car and headed off but Murray lingered.  Meanwhile, Chris had wandered out to the car park’s edge with the binoculars to find a Yellowhammer proudly singing not far from where we were.  Whilst he did so, I began taking some photographs of Henry.  Murray came over for a chat, some photography of an unusual car probably proving too much of a lure for Murray who is a commercial photographer.  Murray asked what kind of car Henry was and I told him a few basics about Standards.  I told him I was trying to take some photographs of Henry to make sure I’d have some images to hand should I ever write about driving up East Lomond for the Standard club.  I admitted I was struggling with the decreasing level of light. On an average exposure my pictures were coming out too dark and when I turned up the exposure my shots were simply bleached out.  With not much time to catch the last of the sun as she slipped behind East Lomond, Murray gave me a few tips and demonstrated the required photography technique and its results with a photograph of Chris & I standing next to Henry.

Murray tests his photographic advice for limited light conditions with a picture of Chris, Henry & I.  

After working out a better camera setting, I manage to catch the last of the sun with Henry as he sits in front of East Lomond.

After getting my own satisfactory picture of Henry, East Lomond and the disappearing sun, I’m curious to know what Murray and his companion have been doing with all their equipment. Murray’s eyes suddenly glow as he tells us that he and his friend have been paragliding above the hill.  In addition to being a commercial photographer, Murray is also a self-taught paragliding pilot and instructor.  Murray goes on to tell Chris & I a bit about paragliding technique but I become a little lost in the paragliding talk.  I don’t know enough about flying to properly understand what’s being discussed but while I’m listening I notice how happy Murray seems post-flight.  His eyes are bright and keen. He seems to be onto a good thing.  I’m not sure I could ever have the nerve to go paragliding but I’m all too aware that I’m keen to tap into that same sense of adventure and freedom.  Having now worked through five months of driving lessons, I feel I’m ever closer to obtaining my full driving license and I sense that the open road may provide me with the same bright-eyed enthusiasm that Murray has. As we finally bid farewell to Murray and begin to make our way down East Lomond with Henry, I know I’ll have to wait a little longer to find out for sure.  For how much I believe in the joy of driving, I really hope I’m right. 

Duncan, one of Murray’s former paragliding students, prepares for another flight from East Lomond (West Lomond in background).  Photograph:  Murray Hay.

With scenes like these, I can see why people go paragliding.  This is looking down from the East Lomond summit towards the Mast Car Park below.  Largo Law (951 ft) can be seen in the distance (to the left) as can a freezing Firth of Forth (right).  Photograph:  Murray Hay.

East Lomond stands amongst low cloud (seen from West Lomond).  Photograph:  Murray Hay.

To be able to jump from the summit of West Lomond (1713 ft) and fly into these clouds must be something pretty special.  It’s just a beautiful scene.  Photograph:  Murray Hay.

See this Henry & I feature on the Standard Motor Club website:

(Link to be posted shortly!) 

See the photographs which accompany this Henry & I article:

www.flickr.com/vintagehighlands/sets/72157627505955755

Living in Scotland as a Standard car owner?  There is a local group for Standard car owners & Standard car enthusiasts in Scotland.  See this page for more info:

http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/club/local_group_scotland.htm

See Murray paragliding in these online videos:

Paragliding East Lomond – Kalid, Murray & Duncan

http://www.youtube.com/user/murrayhay#p/search/29/sgsf4rL-Vxw

Paragliding East Lomond

http://www.youtube.com/user/murrayhay#p/search/12/4wdG6O8QyFs

Paragliding, Ski & Fly at Glas Maol Glenshee


This video just blows me away.  If I went paragliding just once, it would have to be here.  Glenshee is an incredibly special place and there are amazing views of the Glenshee mountains in this video.  Keep up the wonderful adventures Murray!

http://www.youtube.com/user/murrayhay#p/u/2/Z-MdWDshN_o

Knockhill Motorfair 2010

23^rd May 2010

It was late May and in finding ourselves with an unusually quiet weekend, my partner Chris & I decided to head along to the nearby Knockhill Racing Circuit and attend the annual Motorfair event.  This is a motoring meet which showcases the latest offerings from a wide variety of car manufacturers whilst also hosting some interesting vehicles upon the famous 1.3 mile Scottish circuit. 

We arrived at Knockhill halfway through the day.  As we bought our tickets at the gate, an attempt to lower the unofficial Knockhill lap record was underway.  An Arrows F1 car thundered round the circuit as we found ourselves a suitable spot near Duffus Dip to view what was going on.  The high-pitch of the Arrows F1 engine seemed to echo out everywhere, ringing out amidst the hills and fields that surround the circuit. Another lap began and as the Arrows car came down the straight, I got my first glimpse of the bright orange paintwork as the record-attempt sped by.  On television F1 cars are loud.  As they pass by on a circuit, they are even louder. The wall of noise was just spectacular.  The laps began to quicken in pace and it seemed likely that the lap record was shortly going to be broken.  However, with only a couple of laps of the attempt remaining, the F1 engine let go and the Arrows car had to reluctantly retire to the pits with a considerable proportion of the engine missing.  It was a frustrating finish for both spectators and the driver.

The Arrows team competed in Formula 1 between 1978-2002.  British drivers for Arrows F1 have included Brian Henton, Derek Warwick, Eddie Cheever, Martin Donnelly & Damon Hill.  Photograph:  Rob Blank.

After several laps of the Knockhill circuit, the Arrows F1 car needs some attention.  Unfortunately, this car would eventually have to pull out from the event and ditch its lap record attempt due to engine problems.  

However, the crowd’s disappointment didn’t last long.  Soon enough, all eyes were looking skywards as a display by Abarth Air began.  A single red plane with a bright white underside flew in and over the racetrack, a long plume of white condensation trailing behind.  The plane then turned upwards and did a loop-the-loop above everyone, the condensation highlighting the plane’s trail perfectly against the bright blue sky. The plane started to fly straight up into the sky - climbing and climbing, performing a series of turns as it did so.  The speed of the ascents and descents just blew me away.  I just couldn’t think how the pilot could take the forces going on inside the aircraft.  The loop-the-loops continued on, growing in size and drama.  It was amazing.  Then the plane started to perform a dramatic, twisting fall back down towards the circuit.  The pilot stalled the plane and then recovered, stalled and recovered again, over and over. I’d never seen anything like it and I just loved it, fully admiring the skill needed to make it all look like it was happening by accident.  As the plane got lower, it pulled itself back into another loop-the-loop before flying once more over the circuit and out in the direction from whence it had came.  We clapped and clapped and I really hoped that our appreciation could be heard from above. 

The Abarth display was thrilling to watch - one of the best things I’ve ever seen!

The unfortunate demise of the F1 car had now allowed an array of supercars and their drivers onto the tarmac to test their skills around Knockhill’s tricky corners.  I spotted a Noble, some Ferraris and Lamborghinis, a Nissan Skyline and a Morgan going round.  All of the cars gleamed and looked like they were handling well.  For a while, we watched these cars go round but as the session seemed to be quite lengthy we eventually headed into the paddocks to see what was on display off-track.

Many manufacturers proudly displayed their latest models out in the circuit grounds, some also happily showing off their motorsport credentials.  Kris Meeke’s IRC rally-prepared 207 sat rather noticeably amongst Peugeot’s offerings. Complete with full Union Jack paintwork, it looked fantastic albeit a little out of place. 

Kris Meeke’s IRC rally-prepared Peugeot 207 on display at the Knockhill Motorfair

Kris Meeke & his Peugeot 207 in action at the Festival of Speed, Goodwood
Special thanks to Ian for use of this photograph - see further motoring pics from Ian at http://www.flickr.com/photos/ians200707/  

Other manufacturers had opted for a hint of nostalgia. Honda had brought one of my favourite classics along – an immaculate S800 Coupe.  Fawn-coloured and perfect in every way, I stopped to enjoy this car for quite some time.  The Honda personnel came over to quiz our curiosity.  If we liked this, perhaps we might like to test-drive the new Civic?  Chris & I politely declined their offer, stating that whilst we adored the wonderful lines and general look of the new Civic, nothing could beat a good S600 or S800.  I was smitten and struggled to find the motivation for moving onto other stands.

One of my favorite classics, the Honda S800 Coupe.

However, suitable distraction soon came along in the form of some classics displaying at the other end of the paddock.  On route, I took a few up-close shots of a parked Lotus and Audi.  Around twenty classic cars were parked in Paddock 2, the same site where only a few months before Henry & I had driven together for the first time.  A blue Volvo Amazon caught my eye and inside, the Amazon’s speedometer surprised me with being long and horizontal rather than round.  I also found a Hillman Imp and an Austin 1100 parked together, a bright red TR3 and a similarly red Triumph TR4. 

A Lotus headlamp up-close

I liked the combined intricacies of the Audi headlamp and the reflected clouds

Triumph TR3

Volvo Amazon - another one of my favourite classics in a nice cornflower blue

Inside the Volvo Amazon - I love the straight-line speedometer

A Hillman Imp & an Austin 1100 sat together.  The Austin is famed for getting a 'damn good thrashing' with a tree branch in Fawlty Towers.  This particular 1100 seems to be having a slightly easier day.

We've all been there haven't we?

Triumph TR4 - I pick up a registration form for the Thistle Rallye from under one of this car's wipers

Tucked under one of the TR4’s window wipers were a handful of leaflets which seemed to be advertising a rally.  I gently lifted the wiper up and carefully took one of the leaflets from the TR4.  The leaflet was advertising a classic rally, coming up in only a few weeks time.  Promising a route spanning across four Scottish districts and open to non-rally prepared classics, it sounded like great fun.  Immediately I thought of Henry and read out the details to Chris.  Chris agreed that it sounded as if it would be open to our very own classic car. Now that I was working my way through my driving lessons, driving Henry by myself on the road was my principal aim.  However, when I pictured driving Henry myself, I pictured both of us driving along amongst many modern cars.  The idea of travelling with Henry alongside several other classic cars for many, many miles suddenly seemed even more appealing. Chris & I agreed to e-mail some enquiries to the organizers that night and I went to sleep that night hopeful that Henry might be allowed to compete.

See this Henry & I feature on the Standard Motor Club website:

(Link to be posted shortly!) 

See the photographs which accompany this Henry & I article:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/vintagehighlands/sets/72157627234071803/

Living in Scotland as a Standard car owner?  There is a local group for Standard car owners & Standard car enthusiasts in Scotland.  See this page for more info:

http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/club/local_group_scotland.htm

See more from Abarth Air here:

http://abarthcarsuk.com/blog/2011/05/abarth-air-show-at-scottish-motorshow/

“The Impossible Dream” by Honda.  I looked forward to advert breaks when this advert was played on television.  It’s quite simply marvellous!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fB_1gPRCLCo

Restless

4^th February 2010

Sitting at one of the university computers in the physics department, I was feeling restless.  I had just started a new university term and it seemed that my academic focus was nowhere to be found.  In just over an hour I was due to pick my way through the St. Andrews streets and join a statistics class on the other side of town.  I sighed as I remembered how tedious I’d found these classes in the past and knowing I had yet another to get through left me feeling very bored. 

This restlessness isn’t new.  The feeling comes and goes, each new bout ever familiar but stronger than the last.  The longer I’ve been a student, the more I’ve noticed a pattern to my distracted self during the beginning of a new term at university.  It’s taken some time to realise but I always struggle most in February.   February sits halfway through the academic year, so it seems strange that I struggle to concentrate on my studies at this time.  February is the start of the second term in the academic year and this brings new classes, different classmates and fresh deadlines just as the start of the academic year in September does, but unlike the end of summer, in the heart of February I always seem to be distracted.

Pitlochry, Connel, Balquhidder, Acharacle, Jedburgh, Glenshee, Dervaig – these are the many places that Chris & I have visited in many Januarys gone by.   Each January, to celebrate another year of being together, my partner Chris & I pack a few battered old suitcases and head off for the wild landscapes of Scotland.  Enjoying a combination of an isolated cottage rented for the week and each other’s company, our trips have found us climbing up the rugged Scottish mountains, exploring crumbling castle ruins and driving on some of Scotland’s most challenging and scenic roads.  We often rent a log cabin or an old farmhouse, preferably with a log fire to warm us after long days out in the January cold.  These rural adventures are full of fond memories and entertaining stories. I return from them refreshed and inspired with a heightened sense of what matters and what doesn’t.

Here lies my problem in February.  For a brief time each January, I touch upon a lifestyle that feels more real, more grounded and free from the clutter of modern society.    For one week in January, I live within the kind of landscape that inspires me.  The biology that I love to study is all around and I feel truly happy to be amongst it.  Going back to paved streets, crowded buses and monotonous statistics classes just doesn’t appeal once I’ve been in the highlands again and this February, like others before, was no exception.  In daydreams, I was drifting back to Mull’s wilderness and the twisting roads that lie alongside tumbling cliffs (see previous article This Island Stole My Heart). For the time being, I just wasn’t interested in being back in a classroom, learning to analyse reams of soulless data.

To further add to my distraction, the first drive I’d had with Henry back in November was still playing in my mind (see previous article Driver of the Day).  I could remember how satisfied I’d felt driving Henry over what was effectively just flat tarmac but we’d still got no further forward with me being able to get insurance as a provisional driver.  To experience real roads and to be allowed to drive Henry properly, I was going to need a full driving license. 

I have wanted to drive for so long.  I almost took my first few driving lessons when I was seventeen. I was a media student in college at the time. I had little money and I knew hardly a thing about the practical side of buying, owning and using a car. However, I somehow had a clear impression of how liberating being able to drive must be.  The process of working together with a car to get somewhere almost felt like a fond memory, like I’d done it before.  I never had but at times it really felt like I knew what was great about driving before I’d even done it.  Throughout my college course, despite many other interests, much of my written journalism pieces revolved around the joys of driving. Upon reading and marking my work, my lecturers never asked if I actually had a driving license and I never bothered to tell them that the narration was coming only from imaginary travels. I pictured with ease the route along familiar Scottish roads, I was able to visualize the lining up of apex to apex and I could imagine making satisfactory progression through the gearbox. For some reason, a simple union of car and driver working together was a very appealing thought to me and this showed up repeatedly as I wrote my way through my media studies. 

I’ve loved cars for as long as I can remember.  Classic car magazines have replaced the kid’s books but I’m essentially doing the same thing, looking at the pretty pictures and learning a nugget of information or two about the good-looking cars.

My application for a provisional license didn’t make it to the DVLA until February 2010 (I’m 25 by this time) as halfway through my media course, I was diagnosed with insulin-dependant diabetes – one of the many medical conditions known to interfere with the ability to drive unless under strict control.  It took years for me to understand and gain control of my diabetes and all the while my driving dream stood on hold.  I tried to not let it bother me and for the majority of the time I was able to not think about it too much.  I did however find our trips away in January hard as this was when we would tend to drive on some really interesting roads.  It was always then that I found being in the passenger seat frustrating and I would feel restless.

This postcard is one of my main inspirations for buying a classic car as a young adult.  From the moment I saw this postcard I wanted to be the one driving the white Volvo Amazon seen in the centre, passing by the mountains.  This postcard accompanied me on the train when I travelled down to Alvechurch to view Henry for the first time – see previous article Amongst a Huddle of Vintage.

It is now seven years later.  I’m a student with little money, not much knowledge on using a car and still without a license.  It seems that in some aspects of life, not much has changed.  However, I now have a car that I adore.  I have Henry and I have that old restlessness inside. Now is the time to discover how liberating driving really is and to work towards having those Highland adventures for real in my Standard 8.  

I tap the keyboard in front of me and the computer wakes up from the snooze mode it’s slipped into whilst I’ve been thinking. I do a quick online search for driving instructors in Fife.  With only twenty minutes left until I have to head across town for the dreaded class, narrowing down potential instructors is done with unusual efficiency.    The website I’m on has a written statement and a telephone number for each instructor listed.  I choose to contact Lynda, a female instructor who is resident in nearby Cardenden. Lynda’s statement is humble and straightforward. She teaches in a metallic-green Mazda 2. 

I’m drawn to the Mazda’s fun look

I‘m drawn to Lynda’s fun-looking car and the approachability of her statement. I send Lynda an e-mail.  I feel a flutter of excitement replacing the old restlessness and I don’t feel so bad as I lift my bag and head through the streets to learn more about statistics.

See this Henry & I feature on the Standard Motor Club website:

(Link to be posted shortly!) 

See the photographs which accompany this Henry & I article:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/vintagehighlands/sets/72157627183950403/

Living in Scotland as a Standard car owner?  There is a local group for Standard car owners & Standard car enthusiasts in Scotland.  See this page for more info:

http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/club/local_group_scotland.htm

This Island Stole My Heart

30th January 2010

Mull shores

I simply hadn’t wanted to leave.  The engines of the ferry stirred beneath and the Craignure boarding platform slowly shrunk away.  My heart ached.  Whilst on shore I hadn’t fully realised it but as the distance between the shore and me continued to widen, I now knew that Mull had silently made her way in and found somewhere to settle with me.

It was the end of January – a month positively thought of for it is always a month of adventure and new places.  With her often bleak and freezing winds, every year, January brings with her another anniversary for my partner Chris & I.  January 2010 saw us having been together for 8 years and so, like all our other Januarys, we had celebrated by heading away from home and staying a week somewhere wild. 

Mull map

This year we had chosen Mull and she did not disappoint.  Never before had I seen a place that had such dramatic skies, rugged shores and challenging terrain.  We’d taken Chris’s rally-prepared Daihatsu Avanzato to take on Mull’s roads but as I’d sat in the passenger seat throughout our capers, I had thought of Henry garaged back at home on the mainland and told myself that I must bring him here someday.  So often the island had seemed so completely unspoiled by modern day clutter.  Much of the island was wild and empty - just the kind of landscape that inspired adventures tend to spring from.

On the back of a postcard I scribbled:

“Mull has been an incredibly beautiful and intoxicating meeting of dramatic mountains, rocky shores & a wild sea.  I have loved Mull’s wild & untamed heart and have watched the changing light and weather with curious delight.”

Postcard entitled Road to the Glen, Isle of Mull

Upon leaving Mull, I had written out the postcard to remind me why we ought to come back.  Back to the island that, when I hadn’t been looking, had stolen my heart.

See this Henry & I feature on the Standard Motor Club website:

http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/cars/eights/features/gillian-island.htm

See the photographs which accompany this Henry & I article:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/vintagehighlands/sets/72157625901378863

Living in Scotland as a Standard car owner?  There is a local group for Standard car owners & Standard car enthusiasts in Scotland.  See this page for more info:

http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/club/local_group_scotland.htm

Small Wonder

14^th November 2009

Given how wonderful yesterday was (see previous article Driver of the Day), it would be easy to forget to pay due attention to the birthday presents I received this year.  Of them all, this present is particularly special – a tiny metal model of a Standard 8.  Despite only measuring in at 24mm in length and 9mm in width, this tiny Standard is impressively detailed.  My partner Chris has managed to find it for me somewhere on the Internet.  Normally the model would be painted and sat trackside on a model railway set.  I however, like the model as it is with its shining silver body. It seems too intricate to tamper with – I think the details would be lost were it to be painted.  For a long time after opening this present, I am unable to put the tiny car back down.  I have the smallest version of Henry I will likely ever see in the palm of my hand and I am intrigued.  This little Standard is nothing short of a small wonder.

See this Henry & I feature on the Standard Motor Club website:

http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/cars/eights/features/gillian-smallwonder.htm

See the photographs which accompany this Henry & I article:

http://www.flickr.com/vintagehighlands/sets/72157625696613637

Living in Scotland as a Standard car owner?  There is a local group for Standard car owners & enthusiasts in Scotland.  Please see this page for more info:

http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/club/local_group_scotland.htm

Driver of The Day

13^th November 2009

My Driver of the Day Trophy

I only have one racing driver's trophy to my name but for many years to come that trophy will remain a prized possession serving to remind me of my very first drive in my Standard 8.

It was late into a mid-November afternoon when an apple-green Standard 8 from 1957 and two hopeful passengers arrived at the gates of Knockhill Racing Circuit. My partner Chris had spent most of the day weaving the Standard along narrow and frosted country lanes.  I meanwhile had sat patiently in the passenger seat.  We had been looking for an opportunity for me to drive somewhere quiet and away from all other traffic. 

It was just over a month since I’d bought my Standard 8, known as Henry.  In only a few weeks, several hundred more miles had accumulated on the odometer.  Within our first weekend with Henry, we had covered over 400 miles whilst travelling home to Scotland, having bought Henry in the village of Alvechurch, just south of Birmingham.  All these miles covered by my car and yet I hadn’t driven an inch. 

Prior to a day’s train travel from Scotland to view Henry, a classic car insurance policy had been taken out through the AA.  The policy was to cover the return trip to Scotland if I did indeed decide to buy Henry and in addition, it would also cover any driving over the following year.  This policy was not to come without a major flaw for it wouldn’t cover me as a driver of the car.

Upon trying to arrange classic car insurance through the AA, I was told that I wouldn’t be able to drive my Standard 8 on the policy being offered until I’d turned 25.  Right from the start, the insurance would cover my partner Chris but it wouldn’t cover me until I was able to satisfy the minimum age criteria.  I was 24 years old when I viewed and purchased my Standard 8. Whilst doing this, I had been able to look all round the car, sit in the driving seat and ask any questions I had but I was unable to do a test-drive. I wasn’t old enough to get classic car insurance and this meant that even a 5 minute test-drive was illegal.  Instead, my partner Chris drove Henry through the Alvechurch streets as I tried to decide whether or not the Standard could really be my very first car.

The day of buying my Standard 8 proved to be a very emotional and exciting one despite a complete lack of driving on my part.  I was enormously excited to now have my own car and as an added bonus for it to be a classic.  My happiness poured out with ease to anyone who happened to ask about my new purchase but the age stipulation continued to keep me out of the driver’s seat for a whole month.  I had to be patient and wait to be old enough to be eligible for my insurance. 

This waiting game seemed ridiculous at times but it wasn’t a matter of choice.  Prior to Henry’s purchase, my partner Chris & I had sat and contacted countless insurance companies to arrange cover for the Standard 8 that we might have been bringing back from Alvechurch.  The majority had simply given a flat “no” upon hearing my license was only a provisional.  Many hadn’t even bothered to say whether or not they’d insure a young person with a classic - simply hanging up instead.  Perhaps they thought we were wasting their time for a joke.  In the end, the AA were the only company who didn’t seem to mind my provisional license and so despite their 25 year old minimum age restriction, their policy had seemed the best bet for allowing me to drive my car within the near future.  My intention being to undertake driving lessons with a qualified instructor and then practice in between with Henry.  Learners are encouraged to build up their driving experience with supervision to compliment their driving lessons and I saw no problem in doing this in my own car.  It would perhaps spare someone else the worry about their own vehicle until I passed my test.  What I hadn’t realized when I bought Henry was that classic cars and provisional drivers simply don’t mix for the classic insurance companies.

My excitement about finally getting to drive, a month after buying my car, had built up in the week before my 25^th but heartbreak was to come on the 11^th November when I found yet another insurance policy stipulation that would keep me off the road.  Now in addition to being a minimum of 25 years old, I would also need a year’s worth of driving experience.  This meant my policy now required me to have a full license and then have driven in something else for a whole year before I could be insured for my Standard 8. I was just getting started on learning to drive when I had purchased Henry and it didn’t take long for the realization to come that it could be a year, perhaps two, before I’d be able to meet this previously unstated policy requirement.

The slopes of Bishop Hill, near Kinross

Our search for a quiet road continued along backroads by the foot of Bishop Hill, by Kinross.  As we passed by, the slopes were illuminated by a winter sun low on the horizon. With the gentlest of touches, the shadows of silent gliders above the hill made their way across the freezing landscape.  It was an idyllic scene but my heart was heavy. 

The fact that there was a strong chance I wouldn’t be able to drive my newly-purchased car for up to two years felt unthinkable.  Why couldn’t I be insured for my Standard 8 just as I would have been had I bought a small, modern runabout?  And why did I have to be 25 or over to drive my car?  At 25 I could have had a mortgage or perhaps started a family but for some reason I wasn’t allowed to drive a 28bhp classic from 1957.  Perhaps the stipulation was in place to protect classics from new drivers.  Perhaps young people were too much of a risk.  No matter what the reason, I couldn’t think why it was that I’d have to wait two years to drive the car I’d just chosen for myself.  Was it really so bad to own something a bit different as a young driver?  Is it the case that young people shouldn’t really drive classics?

The disappointment I felt seemed to follow us unremittingly along the scenic country roads.  There was simply no getting away from it – without insurance I couldn’t drive my car legally and I knew it would take a notable amount of time to pass my driving test and build up the driving experience I needed before classic insurance companies would even hear me out.  As a result, our drive in Henry that afternoon felt incredibly sad.  Henry chugged enthusiastically along the charming country lanes, passing rustic old farms and beautiful scenery as we went.  It was just like one of those daydreams I’d had as I had sat on cramped buses, longing for the day when I would be able to afford and drive a classic car.  But the daydream, now almost reality, simply made me want to cry.  It just didn’t feel fair that I would have to wait so long to sit on the other side of my car.

The winding country lanes brought us out near Knockhill – the racing circuit where I’d once completed a work placement.  Having been unable to find the gumption to drive on the public roads as an uninsured driver (and therefore an illegal driver), we headed for the circuit in the hope that the private track grounds might provide a last hope for driving Henry that day.

Knockhill at Sunset

The sunset lit circuit was my final hope of a drive in Henry on my 25th

Upon entering the Circuit Office, I asked in for Bruce Pirie, my work placement supervisor from many years ago.  In 2003, Bruce received a letter from a 17 year old college student who claimed to love all things car and motorsport related.  The student had written to request a work placement at the circuit to satisfy part of a media qualification and two weeks later, I had been directing car manufacturers and racing drivers around the paddocks & pits as a trainee as part of a media & PR day which launched the 2003 Knockhill Events Calendar.  In the short time I was there, Bruce & I developed a strong relationship.  When my work placement ended, I didn’t want to leave.  Even now, my week’s work at Knockhill continues to be the best job I ever had.

As I waited for Bruce, I could see Henry out of the window, parked on the tarmac. Daylight slipped away. Then the receptionist directed me through to the familiar circuit office. Bruce looked intrigued by the surprise visit. Sitting on the couch that had seen the likes of Colin McRae and Jackie Stewart grace its faded covers, I told Bruce of my delight on finally becoming a car-owner.  He was equally thrilled as he looked out to the Standard 8 outside.  I then also recalled my difficulties with getting car insurance and how this was now preventing me from being able to drive my car.  Bruce, like many others, was unsure on how to advise on the insurance regulations but was instead able to offer a temporary solution.

"You can drive the Standard on private property without worrying about the insurance and with that you'll find that Paddock 2 just happens to be free."

I was thrilled. I jumped up to hug Bruce but he was keen to see me get outside. 

"Hurry - not much time before the circuit shuts for the day." And so I ran out to the car park.

"Paddock 2 - we've got an hour!" I said as I climbed into the passenger seat.

Chris drove us through the circuit grounds to Paddock 2 and there we swapped seats.  As I sat in front of Henry’s steering wheel, I was unsure of what to expect. I’d had my provisional license for a few weeks now but was yet to take any driving lessons.  However, I knew the basic procedures of pulling away and stopping from past attempts on the deserted runway at Crail airfield and in an empty field in Luss with our much-loved Fiat Cinquecento and so I was keen to have a try.

Henry waits on his new driver in Paddock 2

Henry was ticking over nicely so there was no need for me to use the choke to get going.  However, there were a couple of unexpected surprises that needed addressing before I could go about pulling away.  The first surprise was how far away my feet were from the controls.  As soon as I got into the driver’s seat, it was clear I was going to need some help to reach Henry’s pedals. Because the seats couldn’t be moved, we instead rolled up an old coat and popped it behind me. I made a mental note to buy a rather large cushion or two for future driving.  The second surprise was the unusual shape of the accelerator – the pedal being rounded rather than flat.  Although this initially felt somewhat odd underfoot, I soon got used to it and found I got to quite like the smooth delivery of throttle that I was able to achieve with it. 

Paddock 2 was primarily flat and open.  White painted lines crissed and crossed on the tarmac.  These humble lines normally serve to guide the teams and drivers to their designated pits during motorsport events but soon enough they stood for an imaginary town complete with junctions, parking areas and even a roundabout or two.  As the paddock simulated many typical motoring challenges, I found I had to steer nearly continuously for the area we had was not particularly large.  There was little respite from the steering input required and soon my arms began to ache with the effort.  The ribs of the steering wheel ran through my fingers.  The wheel felt narrow and delicate in my hands but the steering itself did not.  It felt remarkably heavy.  As I continued around our imaginary motoring complex, I hoped that the steering would prove more maneuverable at higher speeds and Chris assured me that it would.

Happy Henry Driving

An hour of driving passed in what felt like only minutes.  It was dark and the circuit staff began leaving for home. We headed back towards the Circuit Office in the hope of finding Bruce to say thank you.  We found him out in the grounds as we made our return.  He’d been looking for us too.

“It’s not much but I thought you were driving well enough down in the paddock to qualify for this.”

Bruce said as he handed me a small metal trophy in the shape of a steering wheel through Henry’s passenger window.

“Driver of the Day” I read out aloud.

“Yes, Driver of the Day – a well deserved trophy for your efforts down in Paddock 2.” Bruce smiled.

A satisfied pair

I was delighted.  Our time at Knockhill had passed by so quickly but every moment had felt precious.  Even the freezing November wind that blew through the circuit couldn’t bring my spirits down. I wasn’t sure if Bruce realized how much of a favour he had done for us that day but I hoped he realized how much I appreciated it.  Driving around a car park at little more than 10mph is perhaps not a commonly requested thing to do for a birthday but it felt like it meant the world to me.  As Henry left Knockhill, I held the trophy in my hands on my lap.  I knew it would probably be a long time before I’d be driving Henry again.  It would have been easy to slip back into feeling down about the whole matter but now I felt I had something to think back on while I worked on tackling the difficulty of getting insurance for my classic car.  For the time being, my drive at Knockhill would at least allow me to describe what my car felt like to drive and to have something real to build my driving plans on.

Henry & I

This article forms part of my Henry & I column.  It has not yet been published on the Standard Motor Club website but a link will be posted here as soon as it goes up.


See the photographs which accompany this Henry & I article:


http://www.flickr.com/vintagehighlands/sets/72157625696590693


Living in Scotland as a Standard car owner?  There is a local group for Standard car owners & enthusiasts in Scotland.  Please see this page for more info:


http://www.standardmotorclub.org.uk/club/local_group_scotland.htm