In which a clan is found.
In which a clan is found.
“Thing is about Chris,” says Daryl with all the wisdom of an elderly statesman, if that elderly statesman was from Runcorn and thus presumably mates with Eileen Bilton*, “is that he likes to get a fart on.”
“What does that mean?” I ask Millie afterwards, “do we think he means Chris drives quickly?”
“I have genuinely no idea.” She replies. “He’s so dry I just can’t tell when he’s joking, but he’s hilarious.”
Whatever it means we resolve to form a three ship with Daryl and his son in the rather nice Z4 (which I’d admired on the start line) and Farty Chris and his dad in their ruined Corrado. A Z4 would have been my preferred transport had Millie not insisted we take Kathy’s old MX5, Each of them has two more cylinders than we do, and about 100 bhp. (Turns out Chris hasn’t ruined his Corrado but has fitted a sacrificial bonnet, to aid cooling, in which he has cut “Coombs Jag” style vents. The original is sitting at home unmolested. He also used to do track days in a turbo’d MX5, and is a lovely chap.)
The night before Shug told me he had it on good authority that Susten pass would be opening after the winter at 1200 that day, which is confirmed in the briefing. We all trundle off, slowly making our way to the start line and a hotel which seems very surprised to see a lot of British cars and bikes arriving at 1115 for a pass which the Swiss have said will open at 1200.
The hotel car park is full, bicycles, motorbikes, yesterday’s Lotuses, some exotica and over 40 rusty, fully stickered sheds that started their journey in Edinburgh.
As the barrier goes up (on the dot of 1200) a couple of cars rocket up the hill but we’re finishing our coffee and set off as P2 to the Z4. Who is moving slightly slower than hoped.
“Fuck it.” I hint to Millie “Hold back, create a gap, then slingshot past him after the next corner.” The MX5 is EXCEPTIONAL, not fast by any means but so communicative it’s approaching telepathic. And right on cue Millie times a corner perfectly, we pop out onto a long straight carrying 20mph more, and the Z4 reminds us they have two more cylinders than us.
I reach for the CB “Errrm. Mind if we come past?” I ask, Daryl lifts his right foot and Millie doesn’t. But what they don’t do is in anyway recede into our mirrors, they just match our pace and all three cars start moving as one.
We’ve found our people.
For the rest of the day all three cars swap places, whilst zooming around a selection of the finest passes Switzerland has to offer, all while chattering to each other on the radio.
And have a genuinely exceptional time.
After one very long descent the brakes on the Mazda start to fade, but I’ve been VERY firm with them, and on longer fast corners the cheap tyres are grumbling quite loudly. Other than that, no notes. It’s one of the best days I’ve had in a car.
Sure other cars would have been quicker, or more comfortable, or less sketchy as fuck on long moist, fast corners.
But, as Pirsig** might have asked, would it have been *qualitatively* better?
No. Qualitatively the shabby MX5, on that road, with that company, was as good as it’s possible to get.
I give today 5 stars.
Scenery was also good, some roads were cobbled again. Campsite was adequate, or better.
Not that many photos. We didn’t stop.
*sure that means nothing to most of you, but for the handful of people who watched Granada TV in the 80s, it’s pure nostalgia.
** I mean it might be a bit self indulgent, but come on, I’m referencing 1970s philosophers!
