THE LONG HAUL TO KEMBLE
Part Two; The Voyage Home
Having made it to Kemble Airfield under its own power, the Mini-Comtesse then proceeded to parade for its adoring fans for the next three days. Saturday & Sunday passed in the usual haze of question-answering and general showing off of its details.
As the rally wound down on the Sunday afternoon, the decision was made that we would head for home that evening instead of the originally planed Monday morning. With close of rally at 6pm, and following a lengthy chat with a chap who had unveiled himself to have been a Sachs engine mechanic in the '50s & 60s, including working at the London Messerschmitt importers at that time, it was back to the tent to load up for home. Although it had rained almost constantly on the Thursday and Friday, Sunday had seen the sun high in the sky all day and the Comtesse, with only a small vent in one window, was acting rather like a Messerschmitt (or even a Peel Trident
) itself in that respect. I knew I was going to be on the road for "several" hours and the sun was still high, so out came the perspex window in the off-side door. Result; instant ventilation of a decent sort!
It was just on 7pm when I at last began the homeward trek. For the most part things were uneventful as I retraced my journey through the villiages of Kemble itself, Ewan and South Cerney, although things took on a somewhat surreal note in Kemble villiage as the entire continium of historic army vehicles seen earlier at the rally passed me by in convoy. For my part I got a salute from the Major who was in charge of the tail-end Bedford RM.... It was also as I approached Cerney Wick from the West that I got lost for the only time this weekend. As mentioned in Part One, I was not navigating by the stars, but by an Ordnance Survey map. However this map dated from 1986.... Yep, you guessed it; They'd moved the road!!! Quarter of an hour later I was back on track and then loomed the bridge over the A417. Once again I had to get out and push.....
At last, point 105 was reached and it was a right-turn onto the A417 to pass through Fairford with nerry a hitch, unlike the outward trip, and upon passing through Lechlade I decided to pull over and let the Comtesse have ten minutes or so to cool down a bit after about an hour of continuous running. This being the town center, I halt at the side of the road, and removed the bonnet to let the air circulate a bit, whilst also taking the chance to partake of a drink of something myself. I hadn't been standing there five minutes when a chap came up and wanted to know all about the vehicle.... Then he revealed he was a film producer who was in the local area to make a film about the river, but had taken one look at my vehicle and decided he wanted to feature that! I gave him my card. I'm still waiting....
A few minutes more and I was just about to depart on the final leg home when another chap approaches me (I think it's my hair!
) He's also fascinated in the Comtesse, then several of his friends arrive on the scene... And so for the next half hour I'm giving an impromptu recount of microcars in general (Yes, I told them all about the RUM Jean) and the Comtesse in particular. All were stunned into total disbelief when I told them I'd had the Comtesse since last October and had only filled the petrol tank once in that time....
Setting off at last, one turns left at Radcot bridge and down along the five-mile-length of single track road with passing places that leads past Patrick Edwards's yard and on to Clanfield. It was here that I had the only real trouble with other road traffic during the entire homeward run. This road seems to be a favorite for the GTi & 4x4 brigade, and now & then some poncemobile would scream towards me dead in the middle of the road on the narrow bits. It was always them who finally gave way however, being one of the advantages of not having a reverse gear.... Then there was the black 4x4 that sat on my tail for the first two miles along this road despite my repeatedly waving it past at every passing place. The twenty-something woman (yes, it was one of those!) finally decided she'd overtake me as we pulled up to a blind crossroad. It was also along here that a mechanical drama struck.....
About three miles down this road, a screeching sound suddenly made itself heard over the engine, and equally suddenly everything went dead, and the Comtesse ground to a halt. My first thought was that the engine had seized, an event I had been fearing happening from Thursday morning onwards. I whipped the bonnet off to be met by waves of heat but how to tell a seized engine just by looking? Somewhat cautiously I decided to press the starter. Result; Absolutely nothing. Even the electrics were dead.
Just picture the scene for a moment dear reader. The sun is just starting to set and myself and the Comtesse are stranded in the middle of a lonely country road precisely fourteen miles from home and two miles in either direction from the nearest form of civilisation. The only sounds to be heard is the birds in the trees and the wind in the corn in the fields around. I stand there and ponder. My mechanical aptitude seldom extends past changing a wheel, and besides, the only tools I have are two adjustable spanners and a big screwdriver. It was then that I thought it odd that the electrics had packed in as well as the engine, for even if that had seized, should not the electrics still function?? I leaned into the car and reached for the main ignition switch mounted over the right-hand rear wheel arch, directly above the battery. In doing so, I glance at the battery, which those following previous chapters will be aware, is now a full-sized car battery sat on the floor, and I instantly see the cause of the problem. One of the battery leads had bounced off! Yet a further example of the combination of poor roads and a vehicle with almost zero suspension.
With the battery reconnected, the engine fired straight up. Oh me of little faith for believing it had seized, and the remaining fourteen miles home, through Clanfield, Bampton and Lew, passed entirely without any further incident. I pulled up the drive of home at precisely half past nine. Total time to get home being two and a half hours. Getting the window back in took a further three-quarters of an hour.
So there you have it. The Comtesse made it both there and back again entirely under its own power (Such as it has). Chances are these were the longest journeys this car, which had been standing from 1977 to 2004, has ever undertaken. Average speed was reckoned to be 15-17mph. Total travelling time four and three-quarter hours. Total milage 75.