the full story, part 1
It all started on my fiftieth birthday in June 2012; my (somewhat extended) family clubbed together to pay for a driving experience day at Mallory Park, Leicestershire (http://www.wheels.co.uk/coach/experiences.htm), which I duly took in mid-September. With my wife Rosie as a guest, I joined five other ‘trainees’ and their guests and enjoyed a full day sharing the driving of a 1970s Leyland Royal Tiger and a D9 Midland Red BMMO ‘decker.
This story is not about my day out, but what resulted from it.
Background; as a schoolboy in Cambridge in the 1970s, Eastern Counties’ Bristol LFS, FLF, LM, RE and later LH and VR were daily fayre for me. Although I collected numbers, interest lapsed once I discovered jazz, beer and…well, you work it out. My brother drove professionally in Bristol and abroad later in the decade and I occasionally teamed up with him but life, family and work excluded most external interests from the next ten-odd years as a musician and the last twenty as an accountant.
I wouldn’t say the driving day itself was a revelation (thoroughly enjoyable though it was); that came later. But during the lunch break a casual question to one of the instructors was the catalyst…”This is a bit of a rich man’s hobby, isn’t it?”, to which the answer was what BBPG members probably know by rote:
• You can get old-ish buses and coaches in serviceable condition for a couple of grand or less.
• You can drive one on a car licence as long as it is over 30 years old and you carry eight or fewer passengers.
My thoughts at that stage were not of preservation or even restoration; more along the lines of ‘patch up and have fun’. So that evening I was surfing eBay and by the beginning of November 2012 I had taken delivery of LFT 5X, a Leyland Tiger Plaxton Supreme V Express purchased new by OK Motor Services of Bishop Auckland in February 1982. She was delivered under her own power by Wealden PSV Ltd of Tonbridge, so I knew she was good for at least 85 miles! But her last MoT expired in 2007…
I remember the next, very cold Sunday morning when I decided the most important thing to do was to check over all the seat belts and ensure there were a ‘good’ eight as a minimum in the front rows. Outside the heavens opened and inside I watched in despair as water emerged from the base of every window pillar, ran down the sodden timber inside the front nearside ‘A’-post and dripped directly into the electrics on the dashboard. Taking myself to the back seats, I realised the internal trim was essentially leaning up against loose rust!
This was the moment when I realised that unless I was prepared to engage some professional assistance – and expense – I would have to think about this vehicle as little more than a toy. Who – including coerced family members – is going to want to ride in this? Winter was upon us, the gutters on an 11’ 6” high coach were letting in water and no, I have no covered storage.
And by this time she wouldn’t start, despite new batteries. No light, no heat and no engine; not a great way to approach nightfall on a cold winter’s night.
Over the next few days I had a few Alec Guinness moments…remember Bridge over the River Kwai? In his dying moment he looks back at ‘his’ bridge, says, “What have I done?” and collapses onto the detonator to blow it up.
Time for a long chat with Rosie…
This story is not about my day out, but what resulted from it.
Background; as a schoolboy in Cambridge in the 1970s, Eastern Counties’ Bristol LFS, FLF, LM, RE and later LH and VR were daily fayre for me. Although I collected numbers, interest lapsed once I discovered jazz, beer and…well, you work it out. My brother drove professionally in Bristol and abroad later in the decade and I occasionally teamed up with him but life, family and work excluded most external interests from the next ten-odd years as a musician and the last twenty as an accountant.
I wouldn’t say the driving day itself was a revelation (thoroughly enjoyable though it was); that came later. But during the lunch break a casual question to one of the instructors was the catalyst…”This is a bit of a rich man’s hobby, isn’t it?”, to which the answer was what BBPG members probably know by rote:
• You can get old-ish buses and coaches in serviceable condition for a couple of grand or less.
• You can drive one on a car licence as long as it is over 30 years old and you carry eight or fewer passengers.
My thoughts at that stage were not of preservation or even restoration; more along the lines of ‘patch up and have fun’. So that evening I was surfing eBay and by the beginning of November 2012 I had taken delivery of LFT 5X, a Leyland Tiger Plaxton Supreme V Express purchased new by OK Motor Services of Bishop Auckland in February 1982. She was delivered under her own power by Wealden PSV Ltd of Tonbridge, so I knew she was good for at least 85 miles! But her last MoT expired in 2007…
I remember the next, very cold Sunday morning when I decided the most important thing to do was to check over all the seat belts and ensure there were a ‘good’ eight as a minimum in the front rows. Outside the heavens opened and inside I watched in despair as water emerged from the base of every window pillar, ran down the sodden timber inside the front nearside ‘A’-post and dripped directly into the electrics on the dashboard. Taking myself to the back seats, I realised the internal trim was essentially leaning up against loose rust!
This was the moment when I realised that unless I was prepared to engage some professional assistance – and expense – I would have to think about this vehicle as little more than a toy. Who – including coerced family members – is going to want to ride in this? Winter was upon us, the gutters on an 11’ 6” high coach were letting in water and no, I have no covered storage.
And by this time she wouldn’t start, despite new batteries. No light, no heat and no engine; not a great way to approach nightfall on a cold winter’s night.
Over the next few days I had a few Alec Guinness moments…remember Bridge over the River Kwai? In his dying moment he looks back at ‘his’ bridge, says, “What have I done?” and collapses onto the detonator to blow it up.
Time for a long chat with Rosie…