To mount, swing right leg over left hand cockpit side and step up, sliding under wheel and into bucket seat.  I say mount, because one sits more ‘on’ than ‘in’ the car and the driver can with little movement observe tarmac not only on both sides but underneath as well.  In front of you the instrument panel boasts, from left to right, Petrol tank pressure gauge, Oil pressure gauge, Klaxon button, combined Lucas ammeter/switch assembly, Water temperature gauge, Rev counter (redlined at 5250 rpm) and Mag switch.  Above these sit a small rear-view mirror and the Brooklands screen.  On the typically massive steering wheel is a second Mag switch, Mag advance/retard and the hand throttle, which we now reduce to minimum, half depress the clutch (no clutch stop), lightly ease into first gear and away we go.  As revs and speed mount, the orchestra under the bonnet gives way to a rising whine from the straight cut gears under one’s knees, interspersed by cannonfire from the exhaust behind you.  I cannot find the words to adequately describe the combination of sounds that massage the senses, but it is truly a Wagnerian experience.  

 

Pickup is remarkably quick, and the speed limit around town is reached with worrying rapidity.  Robert Wicksteed always said that it would see off MG’s at the lights (he was talking about MGB’s) and from my fading recollection of driving them in the 70’s and 80’s I think he was probably right – the engine is still tight (less than 150 miles so far) and promises much more if I can be patient.  Living as I do at the top of a hill, much of the first 5 minutes driving is done on a trailing throttle with the popping exhaust note reflecting back from the surrounding tree canopy.  Emerging onto the open road, however, allows one to indulge in the pleasure of listening to the individual detonations merging into a continuous bark with the promise of something more once the engine is run in.  Even on the overrun, the crackle from the exhaust drowns many other noises, and makes conversation with one’s passenger difficult to say the least.

The central accelerator caused me a lot of worry during the rebuild, but underway this worry disappeared – left foot stayed near or on the clutch leaving one to either accelerate or brake; and in any event the rear-wheel-only brakes are so ineffective that one tends to use the handbrake as an auxiliary means of braking, or taking avoiding action as required.

 

Cornering is sure, direct and achieved with very little fuss.  The steering is neutral and even when cornering hard (on the damp Mercedes Benz track at Brooklands), the feedback from the steering is such that one is able to judge the point at which grip is beginning to go with some accuracy.  I am sure that the handling has been positively affected by Coventry’s decision to relocate the engine and radiator rearwards.   As the cornering forces increase, so does the force required to maintain a specific line, and the necessity for such a large steering wheel becomes self-evident.  The seating (built to the original geometry, but see below), steering wheel and cockpit side all support the driver well and one can concentrate on the job in hand without sliding about or having to hang on, which is more than can be said for the unfortunate passenger.  The half seat, to the left of and behind the driver is not uncomfortable, and it requires one to adopt what I call a ‘chaise longue’ position.  Closer examination of early side on photographs show a driver’s seat squab some 3 inches higher than the one I copied, so that’s another job for the future, but in the meantime, it’ll do.

 

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Alvis Racing Car No. 1