Still Striving For that Elusive Halo

Three tips for driving in snow: 

1. Don’t think that because a road is usually two lanes but only one lane has traffic is in that it makes any sense whatsoever in your micra - other cars apply - to try and drive in the 4 inches of snow (which probably has a layer of compacted ice like snow at the bottom of it) which is covering the unused lane, chances are you will get as stuck and end up facing in the wrong direction just as the person I saw trying such a feat was.
2. Don’t think the 3 inches of snow on the roof of your car is going to stay there when you car heats up - it won’t!!!  It will either end up sliding down your windscreen and blocking your vision or falling off the back of your car and causing problems for the person behind you - also witnessed today.
3. Just because someone isn’t right up the bumper of the car in front but has decided to leave some room don’t think you can suddenly cut in.  Chances are you will end up loosing control and your car will end up auditioning for the Olymipics ice dancing competition like the driver of the Rav4 who obviously thought that because he was in a 4 wheel drive he didn’t need to take any extra care in the snow.

Oh and one final plea from one of the minority of drivers out there who drive rear wheel drive cars.  If we have to stop on the ice we have to start off very gently or we will just wheel spin and either go sideways or nowhere so don’t toot your horn, we are moving off as safely and as quickly as we can.

Here endeth the public information announcement!

Friday saw a day which both Hubby and I got to fulfil a dream.  The catalyst was a Christmas present I gave him, which he then decided to copy and give me for my birthday so that we could both go back in time to the day when cars where cars and drive an E-Type Jaguar.

Knockhill, in Fife, was the venue and Bob as the owner of the afore mentioned Jag was going to be our instructor, but first we had to learn the circuit in a bright yellow SEAT and that was Sasha’s job.

I was first out and it was soon clear that the way I drive normally was not suitable for whizzing around a race track.  I tend to brake long and slow, but on the track the braking comes late and hard, by the time I got to my 6th lap I was starting to get it and thought I was braking late and doing quite well until we changed places and Sasha took me around for a couple of laps.  As she hurtled towards the turn foot still on the accelerator long after I had moved over to the brake she quickly showed me that I hadn’t got it at all.  Silently telling myself to remember to try and brake later when I got in the E-Type, she then terrified the life out of me by taking me around again and deliberately making mistakes to show me what could happen if I got it wrong.  I made a mental note to myself to stick to the braking I felt comfortable with, would rather go around a bit slower than not make it around at all.

Then it was out of the SEAT and into the E-Type.  Just sitting in it was a joy but soon we were off out of the pit lane and onto the race track.  The difference between the two cars was obvious straight off, you were aware of the weight of the car without any power assistance in the steering and as approached the hair-pin at the final lap I thought I had started to get the hang of it when it became obvious that the weight of the car plus my careful speed and early braking was going to make the climb out of the corner near impossible.  ‘Next time we will do that in 2nd gear,’ Bob said.  Not on your life I thought I am going to bite the bullet and do what Sasha told me to and do the hair-pin in 3rd like it should be done. 

Down over the finish line over to the left hand side of the track, brake for the first bend - the SEAT curves, a gentle right hander then as the car reaches the right hand side of the track, head downhill for the apex of the gentle lefthander taking you out of the SEAT curves; the car drifts to the right before you pull it back in to the left and braking turn into the Scotsman bend changing it from a 90 degree right hander into a more gentle curve, cutting the corner by starting out on the left kissing the apex on the right and heading back to the left hand side of the track; then a gentle incline towards Butchers a gentle right before the fun bit.  Climbing toward a blind summit it is time for some curb riding as the John Weir Z bend is tackled in an almost straight line although it meant turning quickly from right to left; round to the gentle Carlube before cranking up the speed, changing up to 4th and heading towards the hairpin.  Wait, wait, wait I kept telling myself, back down to 3rd, okay now brake no not yet, now brake I silently told myself, my arms twisted round as my thumbs hooked round the wooden steering wheel and I aimed for the apex on the other side of the track get your foot back on the accelerator I told myself, turning the wheel back and heading out of the corner and back to the left hand side of the track I realised it worked and there I was heading back towards the start/finish line the hair pin conquered in 3rd gear, only trouble being I was so pleased it wasn’t until Bob’s gentle reminder that I changed back up to 4th gear again.  I did manage it in 3rd gear for each of my remaining circuits though without Bob having to remind me about changing back up to 4th once I was on the home straight, which is where I was when Hubby took this picture with me behind the wheel.

What an experience, I must say I didn’t like wearing the crash helmet and it did start to get very hot inside it and the weight of it was telling near the end, but as it was a case of wear the crash helmet of don’t drive the car then the crash helmet won hands down.  Now it was Hubby’s turn, he whizzed around in the SEAT the hard braking didn’t phase him, however gears do, he drives an automatic, and as he made the switch over to the Jag Sasha told Bob he doesn’t like gears, which isn’t quite right, what Hubby doesn’t like is having to change gears!  So in he climbed …

… and off he went.  He turned out to be very lucky as the other people who had been on the track while I had been out had now also finished and while he had had traffic with him while out in the SEAT; he now had the whole track to himself.  Leg room proved to be a slight issue for him but once he was in the Jag suddenly his gear changing improved.  As for the hairpin, well he ended up doing it in 2nd gear first time around and so continued doing so, until Bob told him he could try it in 3rd, which he too accomplished, and here is Hubby going round that hairpin.

When he finished he was sporting a big grin and as we walked back to the car we chatted about when we might go back again, next time maybe taking ‘Baby’ around!

Tonight rather than typing this while Hubby nips out for a take away, we should have been at a Burn’s Supper.  We had been looking forward to it all week and Hubby was pleased to get his kilt back on.  However ‘the red thing’ is still sitting in the driveway as we await the return of ‘Baby’ who was promised back to us by 6pm at the latest!  All I can say is it better arrive tonight as I don’t fancy having to drive up to Perth tomorrow in ‘the red thing’!

My car is currently in for a service so I am driving a courtesy car – henceforth referred to as ‘the red thing’, which I haven’t really had anything good to say about until now.

Driving back from visiting a member of a neighbouring congregation which I am currently looking after I had to pass through the ‘Raith Interchange’.  For those of you reading this who are unfamiliar with it, it is a very busy junction with two roundabouts and several sets of lights and always a lot of traffic.  Once through it the road takes a dip and bends and all traffic speeds up.  I was happily overtaking a lorry when suddenly a gust of wind sent a rogue traffic cone right into my path.  I had about 30 yards to decide whether to - drive over the traffic cone, drive into the lorry I was overtaking, or slam on the brakes which would probably mean I would still not miss the cone and chance the silver Mercedes behind ramming into the back of me.  Breaking gently and sending up a quick prayer I took the first course of action and heard the cone crumple and then start to scrape along the road as it got stuck underneath the car.  The driver behind me was wonderful he had seen what had happened and stuck on his hazards and slowed right down, he made no attempt to undertake me instead he protected me and ‘the red thing’ by slowing the traffic down behind, however the traffic wasn’t letting me into the inside lane so finally he pulled over, hazards still blinking away and let me slowly pull in, until I was stationary at the side of the road.

I come to my first thing to say - if that driver happens to be reading this blog, which I realise is probably unlikely, but just in case, a big thank you!

Now it is not a good road to be stationary on with everyone else is doing 50 going on 60+ but there was no way I was going to drive the car any further as I didn’t know exactly where the cone was and the steering was all to pot. 

The second thing I want to say is sorry to any driver who was then caught up in the queue that quickly formed as I blocked half a lane.  I really didn’t have any choice but to stop the car, if I could have got it to the next exit on the hazards I would have.

I grabbed my phone slipped it into my pocket and carefully got out of the car.  Checking round the car I discovered the cone was now firmly lodged at the rear axle, no wonder the steering wasn’t too hot, but there appeared to be no damage, but there was no way I was going to be able to get that cone out.  Just as I reached into my pocket to get the phone and phone someone - hadn’t actually decided who at that point - an AA van pulled up behind me.

The nice man from the AA didn’t ask if I was a member - which I am - he just asked what the problem was.  I told him and he went got a jack from the van and soon had the car up and the cone out, stuffing it tightly between a nearby fence so that it didn’t end up back on the road again or under someone else’s car.  I thanked him, as he lowered the car back down all he said was ‘Well I wasn’t going to drive passed, be careful joining the traffic again.’  Then headed back to his van.

The third thing I want to say is thank you to that AA man again, if he hadn’t come along when he did I don’t know how long I might have been stuck there and I am sure all the other cars which use that stretch of road are grateful to him for making the blockage as short as it was.  By the time those drivers who were stuck on the M74 and at the Raith Interchange because of my altercation with a traffic cone reached the spot, there would have been no evidence of what had caused their delay apart from an un-noticed traffic cone lodged in a fence.

The fourth thing, what about the fourth thing I hear you say.

Well the fourth thing is this, if you are going to hit a traffic cone do it in a car that is further off the road than my ‘Baby’ I dread to think what might have happened if instead of going under the car that cone had been tossed into the air, or jammed under my bumper and caused me to swerve or stopped me in my tracks. 

I know I said four things, but I do have one finally thing to say, if you like the moral of the tale.

My service was supposed to be done last Friday, they didn’t complete it, and so I had to take it back in yesterday.  It was supposed to be finished yesterday, they still hadn’t completed it.  It was supposed to be finished today, it wasn’t, and hence why I was still driving ‘the red thing’.  I have gone through all the hassle of this prolonged service, driving a car that I really don’t like, and if truth be known moaning about both, just so God had me in a car that would save me from that traffic cone.  Sometimes God’s plans can be rather convoluted and the purpose can take a while to materialise!

When it’s a barge!

 The phone call

Hubby: You want the bad news or the really bad news.

me: Break it to me gently give me just the bad news first.

Hubby: The car needs some major work done to it.

me: (sharp intake of breath when he told me how much the some work was going to cost) If that is the bad news, dare I ask what the really bad news is?

Hubby: It will take the rest of the week and they are giving me a Rover estate!

At this point I should explain that he went off to work in my car, and I thought it was his way of saying he was wanting to use my car for the rest of the week. 

me: Is that it?

Hubby: Yes.

The car (or barge)

The car was delivered and looked smart enough, if a little frayed around the edges, but I have always thought Rover had got something right about their styling and like many others was saddened by their demise.  Deep blue with some nice shiny chrome, retro leather seats and a quirky but charming interior.

When Hubby arrived back home with my ‘Baby’ we got in the Rover to give it a spin.

Suddenly the reason why Rover was no more became screamingly obvious.  

In my lifetime I have driven many cars and travelled in countless more, however I have to say without any shadow of a doubt that last nights 2 mile journey in a Rover 75 estate was the most horrendous journey I have ever undertaken.  Hubby quickly commented that it drove like a barge - but I didn’t pay a lot of heed to that at the start, after all of course it is going to be totally different from his car.  All too soon however I was feeling sea-sick in the nice looking but unbelievably uncomfortable passenger seat, even going in a straight line it rolled around like some fair ground ride and it didn’t matter how gently Hubby put on the brakes I was felt like a crash test dummy in slow motion, as each and every time I was slowly and gently invited towards the windscreen, maybe the seat belt tensioning just wasn’t working.  Regardless of why it was happening I had had enough and just wanted out of the car.

The saving grace?

We can move the stuff out the garage that we couldn’t fit in either of our cars.  Maybe the Rover 75 estate isn’t that bad after all.  Oh no wait any estate car could have helped us with that one, on second thoughts, yes it is!

Seeing this on the streets of Melide was a real treat.  If only Peugeot still made cars like this. 

Those who know me know how much I love driving, I am passionate about it. Too many people drive cars because they have to not because they want to or get any enjoyment out of it; me I don’t need a reason to get in a car I just love to drive the getting there gives me as much, and sometimes more enjoyment, than whatever awaits me at the destination. I once got in my car and was enjoying the drive so much that I ended up in Wales in search of a hotel as I wasn’t going to start a drive back up to Scotland at 10pm!

A big part of the enjoyment is the way the car and I interact, one of the reasons why I have always said that an automatic is a sofa on wheels. Well exhibit one - above - makes it look as if I might have to re-think that title is this the real sofa on wheels, or maybe it is a bed on wheels as the suggestion is that in the future you might be able to get up, get into it, tell it your destination, and then go back to sleep! It is a car that drives itself and you can read the full story here

If this ever gets onto our roads I am going to start a campaign for it to be called something other than a car - any suggestion?

I can think of three good reasons - there are probably more but three is the number I stopped at - why you would pay the extra and buy a six month tax disk for your car.

1. You plan on selling the car before the year is up.
2. You doubt the car will get through its MOT in a couple of months time.
3. You can’t afford to buy a years tax this month.

Someone, not very far from here has bought a six month one, because they don’t want a pink tax disk on their car. I hope the DVLA decide that next year they will use that horrible orange colour they haven’t used for a while!

My brother took his wife away for her 40th birthday and this involved me agreeing to pick them up from the airport on their return, simple request which I was more than happy to agree to, but I didn’t think it through did I?

Plane arrived back here this morning which meant I had to negotiate one lot of rush-hour traffic to get to my brother’s house to collect my brother’s car – couldn’t get me, both of them and a weeks worth of luggage in ‘Baby’ – then had to negotiate with another lot of rush-hour traffic to get from my brothers house to the airport! I know some people out there have no choice but to run that gauntlet every day, but I am so grateful that I am not one of them. Although maybe if I did I would have realised that there a secret Highway code for those who drive during the rush-hour.

So for any of you out there who like me do not usually drive during the rush-hour here are some of the secrets!

Firstly don’t expect any cars to actually indicate - it would appear that it is essential that your indicators either don’t work or you don’t use them. I think the rational behind this is that it would give other cars some indication of what you were about to do and; as the driver with the dysfunctional indicators would never dream of letting anyone in, in front of them, they don’t want to give someone else the chance to not let them in.

Secondly you need to be on your guard whenever an exit is getting near. It would appear that during rush-hours the acceptable way to leave a motorway is not even to attempt to get into the inside lane until the last count down marker has been passed!

Thirdly, lorries are apparently banned by the consent of all those drivers of cars during the rush-hour. WARNING – don’t whatever you do let a lorry in from a slip road, I can still feel the dagger eyes in the back of my head, and hear the horns resounding in my ears, and expect I have been blamed by at least 30 people for being late for work! They should have left earlier the driver of the lorry is already at work and has delivers to make!

Fourthly – and this one was a real shocker – during the rush-hour it is apparently quite acceptable to get out something to read, newspaper, work papers, whatever… maybe those drivers are the ones who used to do their homework on the school bus in the mornings.

And Finally it would seem that you should like to play the children’s game ‘in and out go the dusty bluebells’ changing lanes as often as possible is an absolute requirement. In fact such a requirement that you become totally blind to the fact that those people who are unused to this necessity are actually staying in the one lane were getting to where they are going quicker.

Actually, because I like to people watch, I think I might have quite enjoyed it. You could almost see peoples windows steam up as someone cut them up and the cogs turning in their brain as they planned their revenge. As I sang away to the radio others were wearing out their nails drumming the dash board with them and turning delicate shades of puce, of course that may have been nothing to do with the traffic, they might have been annoyed by some piece or other they were reading in the paper. Spending a couple of hours a day or so in that frame of mind can’t be good for anyone, maybe they need to introduce jokes to the citrax signs! And maybe if I had to do it every day I would feel differently about it, however one thing is for sure I like driving too much to make it a regular occurrence, rush-hour driving isn’t driving at all it is some kind of no man’s land in-between parking and driving, so my mind is made up I am going to save the rush-hour for a treat and keep doing this job which doesn’t involve it, after all you can get too much of a good thing!

There are some things in this way of life that we need, there are others that make our life and ministry easier, there are still others which we may like to have, and others still which we really don’t need but want to have just for the hell of it.

However today I suddenly realised how much ‘Baby’ has become a far greater tool of ministry than the fact she is a car.

1. The youngsters that were hanging around the church have suddenly decided I am their best friend and they are churches unofficial vergers, reporting to me when people are around, even the people who are supposed to be there.

2. There are a lot of women out there of a certain age who have always wanted to be like Audrey Hepburn and have the wind blowing through their hair. I took one of those women, whose husband is in a local hospice, to visit him today, top down whizzing along the motorway. She rushed into greet him full of it ‘I came here topless!’ Her day was already made, that statement made his!