Dear Julian,

A big thank you to Ride Drive. Tom O’Donoghue has clearly a wealth of experience to pass on, and not only that but he has patience and dedication as well. I had a very enjoyable day, which I won’t forget for a very long time, but then that’s the idea isn’t it?

When it came to completing your feedback form I missed this in favour of this piece of prose (attached). I will be more than happy for you to quote anything I have written to promote Ride Drive.

Regards,

Ron Godfrey.

Okay, so here I am baking away on almost the hottest day of the year on a flat piece of East Anglia complete with the temperature gauge on the dash nudging 100 degrees! How did we get here?

Well, I had liked the idea of a Ride Drive advanced driving session for quite sometime now and I cannot deny that the price was looking a bit steep especially as I was looking at the advanced Handling Skills day, which contains a bit of ‘off-road’ driving on an aerodrome. Come the summer, unemployment bringing me free weekdays, and a lovely girlfriend, who bought my Christmas present and Birthday present all in one hit, even for the next few years, and it all fell into place.

I started out with a simple premise. I wanted to get to know my car better. Sure, I’ve driven it 40,000 miles plus, but that’s all on the Queen’s highway and never even close to its limits. I had also come to TVR ownership from Bikes and with IAM riding and driving input behind me. Whilst I knew I didn’t know everything, I thought I had absorbed plenty of good skills over the years, even if I had now picked up one or two bad habits along the way. This probably means that I am better than most at accepting criticism, but does not necessarily mean that I am a good driver.

I met with Tom O’Donoghue, a very experienced police driver from Ride Drive, at the pre-arranged time and place. I had received a useful information pack to start with and had read their Web site, which is packed with more gems. It immediately became clear that Tom and I were on a very similar wavelength, and after a brief chat we climbed aboard and I took nervously to the road. I explained how my usual practice was to start cautiously and see how well by brain and car were firing. Don’t you just hate those days when nothing seems to come together? Well, on this particular day everything seemed to work out pretty well from the start. Tom wondered if I felt up to doing a bit of commentary, but I have to say I politely declined. I can never really get my head around it without seeming to compromise my concentration level. However, on the road, and as we joined the motorway, I passed comments explaining what it was I was looking at and how I was planning to act.

Our initial plan was to join the M25 and travel counter-clockwise. I have to say that fumbling for change on approach to the Dartford tunnel does not demonstrate good planning! But then misinterpreting Tom’s perfectly clear directions! I managed to exit correctly only to head onto the A12, as I had thought I heard, rather then take the next exit, which actually was Tom’s route.

The little diversion was easily navigated and we eventually found ourselves on some wonderfully challenging roads. Of course you don’t do over 300 miles in a day without having some incident or another to discuss! I knew from my vantage point, as I followed a line a vehicles around a piece farm machinery that was forming a mobile chicane, that there was a lot of clear road ahead. However, despite holding back and doing a little double checking, I completely missed a motorcyclist. There was, in fact, plenty of room, but I acknowledged straight away that this was an area of potential danger.

As the morning run unfolded I settled into the groove and Tom just got more comfortable with me. This was so enjoyable, even though I was trying to kerb my bad habits, such as leaning in the transmission tunnel instead of holding the wheel. I was observing far ahead trying to dodge the worst pot holes. “Would I normally be in this gear?” says Tom, oops, what the hell gear am I in anyway? “Would I normally take that in third?” was the question. Well yes I would but now I learn that second will give more response and control as well as improving the degree of progress. “Why not use the hole road width?” came the next question from my left. I come from the influence of police standards which said that you kept to your own side of the road, but now I realise that the road is only divided in two by paint and not a brick wall. If it’s there, use it!

All sorts of classic situations came up. There was the HGV and the dilemma of whether and when I should overtake it. All kinds of other road users were out there, tightening bends and varying road surfaces. Ironically, whilst we were discussing ‘vanishing points’ and observation aids we passed along a classic piece of road snaking gracefully across the Essex farmlands like a mature river bed that loops across its flood plain. Telegraph wires at first appeared to indicate the direction of such meanderings and then suddenly, as if on purpose, marched brazenly across from one side to the other and irreverently through the fields before crossing the road again. Was I awake? Yes, but what an interesting scenario this would have been had it been night time with the headlights picking up the errant cables out of the murky blackness.

The lunch stop saw us hide the Griff in the shade of a pub car park under some trees as we used this spot as a desert oasis. After being fortified with Mexican food and copious amounts of diet Coke, at the end of some little lanes we found this large expanse of concrete runway that filled the horizon from our low vantage point. It is only with the picture that I can believe the feeling that it was an endless sea of hard surface margined in the distance with green fields. Mind you, when you get the right gear you see the distant horizon coming back at you pretty rapidly. Tom said he had seen a Cerbera touch 150 on here and, fairly crucially, managed to stop before its potentially herbaceous climax. I took it a little more sedately.

So far the day had been very much confirmation for me. From the feedback, both from the Griff and from Tom, I felt that I was well within my limits and in good control. Tom obviously sees and deals in a very tactful but effective manner with a wide range in skill levels. I pride myself that I was above average; although it did suddenly dawn on me that a complete novice would perhaps be getting better value for money out of this. Here the tables were turned though.

Now we would brake from speed, then run it again doing cadence braking in anger making a complete car length of difference at 50 mph. Next, ever decreasing circles looking for the point where the car breaks away. Just when you think your finding your way, Tom says, “Go on - floor it!” but I cannot overcome my natural instincts yet. Try again, speed up, turn in tight, hear the tyres protecting with a squeal, more power………. Well that’s taken my doughnut virginity for sure! What have we achieved here? Not only do you get to recognise and to understand the feed back the car will give to you as you push it towards its limit, but you can exercise such a high degree of control over it with only the slightest adjustment in the car controls. In ever realised this!

I now thought I had it all sorted, but now we start playing with some traffic cones. Within a couple of runs I was taking the slalom at 50, then heading at, braking and steering away from cones pretending to be pedestrians. The car is now so nimble, giving me so much feedback and so controllable. Another doughnut for good measure, enough to coat the whole interior and exterior of the car with brake and tyre dust, and I had learned in 45 minutes what I hadn’t realised in over two and a half years!

The ‘cold’ water in its insulated bag in the car boot was nearly warm enough to brew a pot of tea and my neatly packed pile of paperwork was now all scrunched up in a ball at one corner as if blasted there by a hurricane! How did that happen?

We set off again back to the road and refuelled with some of Shell’s finest, and ourselves with something cool. The first part of the run back saw us making for a little road running parallel with the A10. Tom apparently found this little gem by accident one day and what an accident! I didn’t know there were such enjoyable stretches of road left in the South East! All too soon though we were spat out onto a dual carriageway and joining the M25. Even this short encounter with the London orbital extended stay parking scheme didn’t take the edge of the experience.

After half an hour of arriving home, and after I had delivered Tom back to his own car with us both nursing our memorable sunburn, my girlfriend stepped into the TVR and was completely bemused as to why the interior should be covered in dust. Had my cheeks not been aching quite so much from overdosing on grinning I might have been more inclined to give a detailed explanation, but as it was I was not capable of saying anything really coherently.

Has there been a noticeable difference in the way I use the Griff? Well I can’t tell about the outward signs, but in my head I have felt that I have ratcheted up a gear and continue to feed off that feedback the car gives as driver and machine seem to converge in harmony. I have covered 800 miles in the last fortnight and the passenger seat has brought forth an unsolicited compliment just the other day, a compliment to Tom as much as to me. “You know, it seems much smoother in this car since you went on your course. I am not being thrown around as much as usual.” Hang on Heidi. There’s a wide expanse of tarmac over there and I have far too much rubber on these tyres!

Ron Godfrey
Camberley
Surrey

TVR Griffith