Having finished the restoration I can without hesitation say that I feel totally in tune with the soul of the car – for those contemplating anything either on this scale or otherwise, I can only say ‘just do it’ – the 12/50 is a remarkably simple, well-engineered bit of kit.  On several occasions during the last three and a half years I have returned in the dark from my workshop to the house, looked ruefully at the modern car that sits outside, and no matter how poor the day’s progress has been; it has been, in comparison to the modern motoring experience, infinitely worthwhile.

 

Driving No.1

 

For a person who’s only contact with vintage motoring up until now was a memorable journey to and from an early 70’s Prescott in the back of the late Sam Clutton’s magnificent 1908 Itala, it’s asking quite a lot to describe how No.1 is to drive.  In truth, to start off I was very reluctant to take the plunge and venture out.  However, by May 2007 I realised that I was putting things off out of a fear of the unknown, so I finally plucked up the courage to not only start No.1 again, but contemplate driving it the fifteen or so miles to the MOT station (Trumpet Garage, Ledbury) and back.  Wife followed behind with towrope, rudimentary toolkit and emergency instructions – we had agreed that calling my mobile was a pointless exercise and that a persistent blast on the horn was necessary to warn me of any impending detachment of an item of significant or historic interest.    The day was not without mishap – brakes started binding and overheating on the way, and on the way back (after an MOT pass by the way) the idle screw dropped out of the Solex, causing air leakage and a backfire.  Forward motion was finally halted some five miles from home when the gearbox spider Woodruf key sheared.  Earlier during the rebuild I had seen in Robert Wicksteed’s notes that he had a similar problem at Silverstone in the 1970’s.  At the time his solution involved a junior hacksaw and a length of wire from the nearby stock fencing, so perhaps this act of felony has finally caught up on us.  I now carry several spares.

 

Apart from this particular example of a need for vintage resourcefulness, the first outing taught me quite a lot.  No.1 is not, for a novice, a relaxing car to drive.  The gearbox demands a subtlety that I have yet to master and I have been easily distracted by all the unknown noises.  I am, however, beginning to realise how unique a car HP6161 is – after all a 1923 racing car that is road legal is a rarity, and in the context of modern motoring, a potential risk.  

 

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