Unsurprisingly, I have owned some pretty dreadful vehicles over the years. The exceedingly tired Bond Equipe I saved from the scrappage scheme is a good contender. The Range Rover where someone had butchered most of the wiring loom is another. Both cars had some good points though.

Incredibly, this is not the worst car I’ve ever owned.

In terms of most expensive car, that’s either the Daewoo Matiz I bought new, and sold for half its new value 18 months later, or the Peugeot 306 where the finance for the Daewoo AND the subsequent Subaru Impreza were all merged into one horrendous finance package. Jeepers. I really was rubbish with money back then.

Or there’s the Rover P6B, which I bought from a dodgy dealer for £2000, spent £2000 welding up, then sold for £1700. SUCCESS! However, it was a most marvellous machine that I still miss to this day. A thoroughly British Citroen DS, but with a V8. What’s not to love? All I can say is that it’s a good job I was a ridiculously well paid IT Project Administrator at the time.

But amazingly, I don’t think there’s one car I’ve owned that hasn’t had at least something I liked it about it. With one exception. That vehicle is the Isuzu Trooper 2.8TD Mk1.

A hopeless vehicle, hopelessly stuck.

It was a vehicle that didn’t do anything well. The ride was horrific. It had recently had new rear leaf springs, but I did wonder if they had simply been replaced with girders. The engine was hopeless, with a power band about 500rpm long. That was a problem, because the gearbox was rubbish too, with an enormous gap between second and third that meant that often, neither gear was the right one. It needed a two and a half.

If you had the temerity to try and hustle it on the road, as I did once running late for an airplane (the last time I caught one – 2005), then it was outright terrifying. It handled with all the aplomb of a hippo in a shopping trolley. Over cobbles.

It did have a ridiculously good turning circle – akin to a Triumph Herald – but its off-road ability was badly compromised by an almost complete lack of suspension travel. The independent front suspension was great for tight turns, but the ground clearance was poor, and the wheels couldn’t move down far enough to get you out of trouble. It was hopeless.

So, as there’s not much point living with the downsides of an agricultural off-roader if it can’t off-road, it was swiftly sold. I was thoroughly disappointed. Perhaps Land Rover really do make the only 4x4s that matter. Of course, my Ford Maverick persuaded me otherwise, and also revealed that an independent front suspension is no handicap! It was so much better than the Trooper. While sure, it didn’t exactly drive like a small hatchback, neither does a Land Rover. The Maverick felt like the off-roader I’d wanted the Trooper to be.

I did consider a later Trooper Mk2 at one point, actually a Bighorn (what a name!) import, but that also felt very dismal to drive, hampered by a power-sapping automatic gearbox (mind you, a 2.5-litre Pajero auto is no quicker!). Still, the Mk1 Trooper remains the one car I wish I hadn’t bother to own. Oh well. It’s not until you own a car than you often get to really know what it is like! I chalked that one up to experience.

Well, there’s not much summer to shout about, but nonetheless, there’s a lot going on throughout August on ClassicHub. The Citroen Dyane has apparently received some new metal in critical areas, so is one step closer to an MOT and a road legal status it has lacked since 1995. I’m hoping to visit the car next week, and carry out some mild tinkering ahead of the all-important MOT pass. Once the V5 arrives (lost by the previous owner), I can get it taxed and set about the exciting business of trying to drive it home.

The 2014 2CV 24hr Race as night descended. My pic. Yes, that is a Mini.

Alas, it seems unlikely that the Dyane will make it here before my Big Weekend. This is where I join Team Blueberry Muffins as part of the pit crew. Having attended the 2CV Racing 24hr Race for the first time last year, I’m afraid I’ve taken a serious interest. Not enough to want to drive – the thought of being amongst other drivers frankly just terrifies me – but the idea of helping to keep a Tin Snail buzzing away throughout a 24-hour race is very appealing. I’ll tell you more about team and car next time.

It’s shaping up to be a great weekend, with a BMW-powered 2CV hopefully offering track demos, and dedicated ‘run what you brung’ track sessions and a track parade on the Saturday before the race starts. I’ve even been talking with one team about having a drive in a real 2CV racer at some point, so I can highlight the differences between those and the road going versions. They don’t roll for a start! It’ll be annoying to not have my own 2CV there though, because it’s the one car I’m perfectly happy to thrash!

Speaking of which, Elly the 2CV has temporarily moved to another garage locally, so I have space to work on the Dyane. I fully expect my new project to have teething problems after so long on the road, and I also suspect it will prove utterly hopeless at keeping Welsh weather out. Garage space will be needed.

2CVs prepare for a track parade before the 24-hour race in 2014.

Then there’s the XM. I’m hopeful that August will be the month where it finally gets the new suspension spheres it so badly needs. With the Dyane project incoming and funds tight, it may only get a rear end refresh at first. It really is rock hard on the rear, so it definitely needs doing.

Away from Citroens, I’m afraid video production is likely to be a little lower than of late. I have a few on the burner, but am not sure when they’ll be finished. I also have to write words for people who very kindly pay me to do so. Life feels quite busy right now.

Still, I’ve just enjoyed two days of camping in the Brecon Beacons with a group of family and friends that included four children all younger than five (one of whom was teething). That and man-flu has given me a good idea of how knackered I’ll feel 20-hours into the 24-hour 2CV Race! Parents, I once more salute you.

It has been amusing to see the outcry from folk over the ex-Top Gear trio heading to Amazon – sadly the retailer, not the forest. A lot of people have a real problem with paying for content, which is surely how Amazon are going to play it. I imagine they’ll make a fortune. They’ll probably hope so given that I doubt they’re paying a pittance to the trio.

Videos don’t make much money, but they allow for interesting comparisons.

And this week, my beloved Roadkill has admitted that it is going to be charging for immediate access to shows, while tight folk like myself will have to wait a month to see their videos. To get the latest show, you’ll now have to pay. Some people have a problem with this.

Earlier this year, /DRIVE on that there internet began to charge for content too, causing yet more gnashing of teeth and general toy-out-of-pram moments. I’m not sure how well that has gone, but as a business model, it is one that is fast gaining ground it seems.

So, why do they do it? Simply because producing videos is VASTLY expensive. I work in the print media, so I know how cheaply a magazine feature can be knocked together. Video just doesn’t work that way. It’s why my videos are such rubbish compared to the likes of XCAR or /DRIVE. Even the Roadkill videos, which seem marvellously shonky, must have insane budgets. I can probably lose a day in shooting and editing one video. Imagine doing that with multiple camera and sound inputs, and hours and hours of footage. Imagine having a sound engineer as well as a camera man, perhaps a producer/director as well. These people need to follow you around. They need to eat. We’re not talking a few hundred quid per video here.

Which leads to problem number two. Where is your income coming from? Internet advertising sadly isn’t the answer. You need massive traffic to generate enough of it. Getting a few thousand YouTube views is not going to make you a millionaire. Frankly, it won’t fill the fuel tank of your car. Even if it is a 2CV.

It’s a problem I haven’t got to the bottom of yet. I have a Donate page, but accept that’s not going to pay the bills either (many thanks to those who have donated) – and I have many bills with a shambolic Dyane on the way. I allow ads on my YouTube page that I earn from, but there’s two problems there. It’s an absolute pittance, and I hate internet advertisements and end up feeling guilty.

But, while I can and while I have time available, I’ll keep the videos coming. Because at the end of the day, it’s good fun to do. I’ve enjoyed making them far more than I ever imagined. I’ve driven some amazing cars. I’ve driven some bloody awful ones too. They’re usually mine. But I’ve enjoyed shoving a camera in my face and seeing what words fall out of my mouth too. While I may do a spot of research and fact-cramming, I never script my pieces, so I truly have no idea what I’m going to say before I start. To be honest, that’s how my writing works too. At no point in the past 20 minutes did I plan any of what you see here. Sometimes, it’s just fun to see how things develop. If I can one day develop an income from doing this on camera, then that’d be nice. For now, I get to hurl words at a screen and get paid to do that, so I can’t really complain.

Anyway, thanks for reading, thanks for watching and keep loving what you do.

OOF! Deltic ready to roar

On Sunday, I drove to the Severn Valley Railway Classic Day – you can read my Classic & Sports Car Report here.

It has to be said, event reports don’t bring in a whole lot of income, so I was determined to have a nice day out above all else. My ‘Freedom of the Line’ ticket certainly helped there, as I rode up and down the line and enjoyed The Engine Room at Highley Station for no extra cost. The cream tea I had there did come at extra cost, but a reasonable one. Impressive.

After sampling the classic delights of the line all the way to Bridgenorth, I hopped on a steam service to return to Kidderminster. Trains pass each other at Hampton Loade and I was amazed by a blue and yellow flash as we did so. A very noisy blue and yellow flash. Was that a Deltic?!

I got off at Bewdley to explore, having bypassed it on the way out. This at least gave me a chance to study the timetable. Sure enough, there was a diesel service and speaking to a guard confirmed it was a Deltic. Wow. However, it was now two hours away. I decided to kill time by riding back towards Bridgenorth, jumping off at Arley where there was a great spread of classics – including a Sunbeam-Talbot 90 and a delicious Jaguar XK120 (see C&SC report). I wanted to get a photo of the Deltic, which was a challenge given I had to catch it. It was running late too so I only just got my picture (which I can’t publish yet) before sprinting for the train. I managed to jump on just after the guard blew his whistle! Phew.

It was noticable that as we approached a tunnel, a row of men suddenly appeared at almost every open window. That definitely included me. I wanted to hear the bellow of those eighteen cylinders, each with two pistons. It’s an absolutely ridiculous powerplant, and the Deltic has two of them! Only one was in use today though. It sounded like this.

Now, I definitely do love steam, but riding a steam train is actually quite boring. All the interesting stuff is best viewed from the side of the railway instead. Where you can see all those magnificent cranks and linkages at work, and enjoy the chuff of the engine.

You can’t appreciate the engineering of a Deltic just from looking at it, because its absurd engine hides all the craziness within. You can’t see the pairs of pistons punching towards each other in those cylinders. You are not witness to the three crankshafts at each corner of the triangle arrangement of those cylinders. All you can do is take in the fantastic noise that this two-stroke, 1650bhp engine makes. You can feel that level of grunt well enough, even when the driver is clearly trying to be smooth. With both engines firing, these trains were able to exceed 100mph quite comfortably. Huge generators are attached to both which power electric motors to provide the actual tractive power. I was almost giddy with excitement.

Not that this was the only highlight of my day – I also clocked up 80 miles in two hours in the XM coming home. In the rain. Obeying all speed limits. It may lack the deranged howl of a Deltic, but I still really do like my Citroen XM.

A story has broken this week about hackers managing to disable a Jeep while someone was driving it. Frankly, this is not very surprising. After all, electronics in cars has progressed to the level that the many ECUs in a car can all talk to each other, and cars are now communicating with the wider world too – providing real-time info to manufacturers, and allowing you to use mobile equipment very easily. Some cars even have their own Sim cards to enable them to connect to the world. The downside to all this is that you are now driving around in a mobile computer. And the security it seems is not very good.

Pretty Data Machine. Who is it talking to?

Already, there are massive issues about data protection. Cars are now recording who you are and where you are. All this data is being harvested, but where is it all going? The really scary bit is that more ‘fly-by-wire’ controls mean that stealing control is very possible. Don’t forget – the e-Golf I drove recently could control its speed – up and down – and steer without my input. Tesla is already able to send updates to cars, to improve functionality. But what if someone managed to hack in and make unwanted changes? Was the 1992 film Batman Returns, where the Penguin manages to gain control of the Batmobile, a portent to the future? Hollywood may well have called this one correctly, even if Oswald Cobblepot is not very likely to actually be raised by penguins in sewers.

I hate to get all tin foil hat, but it does make me increasingly glad that I tend to own cars which are distinctly low tech. Even my ‘modern,’ a 20-year old Citroen XM, has a mechanical fuel pump and a very analogue driving experience. In other words, you operate controls which operate things mechanically. Mechanical things are distinctly hack proof. Indeed, even if all of the electrics got fried, there’s a pretty good chance I could get the car running regardless. That’s my kind of simplicity.

I know which of this pair is most hack-proof.

That said, it still has computer controlled suspension (adjusting firmness) and even some fancy gadget that makes the interior lights dim as they go off. Perhaps I’d be better served sticking with the 2CV in my post-apocalyptic vision of the future. That’s if we’re actually allowed to drive cars at all. With some predicting that autonomous cars could cut accident rates by 90%, it could be that driving becomes something you simply aren’t allowed to do. That really is a scary thought. The technology is fast approaching where this could well be the reality, not just Hollywood fantasy. I know a Google car crashed this week, but that was because a human drove a car into it. Google genuinely does have autonomous cars driving around the roads of America right now. Frankly, it’s making me break out in a nervous sweat.

I’m just not ready for that leap. Some of us actually ENJOY driving. We don’t want something else taking control. What’s the point of living in Wales if I can’t actually enjoy the fabulous driving roads you get here? I’d just end up a thoroughly bored passenger as some hateful box whisks me through the countryside. I can already do that on a train if I so wish. I generally don’t. Especially as the trains here don’t so much whisk as merely amble.

Anyway, that’s my joyful prediction of what the future holds. A world of self-driving cars that crash when hacked, and steal all of your data. Sweet dreams!