One Last Drive

The Reason.

Formula 1, MotoGP, World Superbikes, the English Premier League and countless other sports series have either had the early-year events cancelled or postponed. Some other national sports championships like the National Basketball Association have not dilly-dallied, they have simply cancelled the 2020 season.

The Coronavirus pandemic has taken a huge toll on global sport, the global economy and devastated many, many countries. Worse still, the number of human casualties has exceeded 50,000 and THOUSANDS are added to that global total EVERY SINGLE DAY.

The end of the pandemic is not yet in sight and that brings me to the point of this article, which is an account of one last indulgence in a beloved activity before the UK-Wide ‘lockdown’ starts. One last drive before the apocalypse arrives. Who knows if or when we will next be able to go for a drive just for the sheer joy of driving?

I had booked a mid-march track day at the glorious Spa Francorchamps circuit in the Ardennes area of Belgium but this event had been cancelled because of the Belgian government’s declaration of a state of emergency in response to the pandemic. This would be the weekend I’d go on ‘One Last Drive’.

Where? The Cotswolds.

I considered driving to Wales but dismissed that idea as too ‘socially irresponsible’. You see, I’d been adhering to the principle of ‘social distancing’ for a while, I had not been to the gym, the barbers, any restaurant, party or social gathering a full month before the official ‘Lockdown’ was declared. I had also started working from home full-time, a full month before the UK-wide ‘lockdown’, so a trip to Wales would have been excessive in the circumstances.
The only other area within a reasonable distance from West London and with the type of roads and scenery I was after was the Cotswolds in Gloucestershire.

In the Telegraph’s article “10 British drives you must tackle in your lifetime”, the Cotswolds is at number 7. The article has this to say about driving in the Cotswolds: “This 80-mile exploration packs in fabulous bends, far-reaching views and forgotten back roads that let you believe you are the only tourist in the Cotswolds”.

Perfect then.

“This 80-mile exploration packs in fabulous bends, far-reaching views and forgotten back roads that let you believe you are the only tourist in the Cotswolds”.

The Telegraph

The Car.

The car of choice is, of course, my Porsche 911 (type 991.1) GT3. I could have driven our track BMW E46 M3, but that car is simply too extreme and lacks all creature comforts, such as sound insulation, compliant suspension and radio, that are quite important on the road. The Porsche 911 GT3 is, simply put, peerless on-road and on track. This particular model is capable of a 7:25 time at the most daunting circuit of all, the Nurburgring’s Nordschleife (North Loop) circuit and is also capable of pootling to the shops without shaking your teeth and back to bits.
The newest model, the 991.2 GT3 is even faster, flying around the Nordschleife in a scarcely believable time of 7:12.7.

It is reliable and can be driven all day, every day, and the fact it costs little more to run than a top-line BMW or Mercedes adds to its appeal.
In my opinion, the Porsche 911 GT3, including its variants, is the greatest sporting model ever made.

Many people have asked me why I have not ‘upgraded’ to the 991.2 GT3 and my answer is always the same: I see no reason to do so. Yes, the .2 is quantifiably better, Porsche hardly ever releases a model objectively worse than the previous one, but I do not think the cost to change is worth the improvement between the .2 and .1 GT3.

In my opinion, the Porsche 911 GT3, including its variants, is the greatest sporting model ever made.

The Drive.

I did not have any clever plans or routes for the day, I only had one destination in the Cotswolds in mind, which was the highest point in the Cotswolds, Cleeve Hill. I’d take pictures and make it up as I went along.
Cleeve Hill was 85 miles away from West London and the route there involved a mixture of motorways and ‘A’ and ‘B’ roads.

I set off early on a Sunday in March and I could not have picked a better day for the drive. It was dry and warm but not too hot, with bright sunshine which caused me to immediately reach for the Ray-Ban Wayfarers. It seemed the weather gods were also determined to do all they could to enhance this drive.
The journey started with a boring thirty miles on the M40 before turning off at junction 8 for the A40 and more interesting roads and scenery.

From junction 8, the M40 winds its way through the Oxfordshire countryside past Wheatley, Headington, Eynsham and the historic market town of Witney, which is located in the banks of the River Windrush.
Then it was on to the parish of Curbridge, population 509, before arriving at the quaint village of Little Barrington which is also situated on the River Windrush. I continued on past the civil parish of Windrush, before
entering the Cotswolds Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB).
I now understand why it is designated as an AONB because it is truly beautiful.
I stopped here to set up and start my Go Pro Hero 8 Black because I wanted to capture the majestic splendour of the countryside I was driving through.

The roads had been virtually free of traffic for the majority of my leisurely journey so far, but the sight of these glorious roads and stunning countryside seemed to trigger something primaeval within me. I banged the gearshift left into manual mode and began to exploit some, just some, of the GT3’s massive potential. The steering is direct and the front end is mighty, and the engine, oh! the engine! revs to 9,000 RPM with such alacrity, it will catch out the unwary and it screams like a banshee while doing so. Honestly, the sound of that engine in full voice was almost worth the trip alone.
And I have not even mentioned the suspension, which is the single biggest development over the previous generations of GT3. I remember when I was buying this car, I tested it against the previous generation 997.2 GT3 RS on the same country roads and it was the clear advancement of the suspension capabilities of the 991 GT3 which meant, objectively, it was no contest between this car and the sublime 997.2 GT3 RS.
Subjectively and financially though, it is an entirely different matter.

“and it was the clear advancement of the suspension capabilities of the 991 GT3 which meant, objectively, it was no contest between this car and the sublime 997.2 GT3 RS”

I was soon past the villages of Shipton Oliffe, Andoversford and Whittington, and it seemed I had been passing pretty villages all day.

Cleeve Hill.

Cleeve Hill is the highest point both of the Cotswolds hill range and in the county of Gloucestershire, at 1,083 feet and as I approached, the roads got busier and busier and slowed down the higher I climbed up the road. It was quite steep in places and I spotted many cyclists enjoying the high-speed descent back down. I was greeted by some astonishing views at the top but resisted the temptation to stop and gawk. There were simply too many people around and all the car parks were full. Even the car park of the Cleeve Hill Golf Club was full to bursting with more cars and people arriving each second.

They clearly had never heard of ‘social distancing’. It was as if Covid-19 did not exist.

They clearly had never heard of ‘social distancing’. It was as if Covid-19 did not exist.

I descended down the other side and kept driving towards Ford and Tewkesbury. The roads were typical fantastic English country ‘B’ roads with corners of every description and a wide variety of dips and bumps too! The GT3 was absolutely sublime. I was thoroughly enjoying myself in one of the best sporting cars ever made, in one of the most beautiful areas in England.
I could not have asked for more.

I pressed on towards the deserted Ford region and it was clear I was not the only driving enthusiast with the same idea. I saw many Porsches, Mclarens and Ferraris going the opposite way, clearly enjoying the roads and the day. The road to Ford is a climbing, twisty, dusty and rutted road. Overly-enthusiastic application of the throttle on any one of the dirt-covered corners often overwhelmed the rear Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2s and you did not have a lot of time and space to catch the ensuing slide…

Very good fun.

I stopped at one of the many deserted viewing points in the region (very easy to adhere to the social distancing principle here) to take in the views and from where I was standing, it was hard to imagine that all was not right with the world and that things would get much worse. Very much worse.

It was here that I realised I had been driving for nearly 5 hours, it seemed like 2 hours tops, and it was at this point I decided to turn back round to retrace my route back to London.
I drove back as ‘enthusiastically’ as road conditions allowed, which means ‘very enthusiastically’, stopping at two closed picturesque country pubs to take pictures. One, the Evenlode, I imagined, would have been full to bursting with day-trippers and guests having lunch in its beautiful gardens on a day like this.
The stark, beautiful desolation of the place was another reminder that all was not well.

I stopped only once more, at a sheep-filled meadow to have lunch. Sitting in the GT3, eating my lunch which consisted of a BLT sandwich and a sugar-free Red Bull, while I watched the sheep graze lazily, made me totally forget what was happening in the world and made it the best lunch I’d had in a long time.
And that was the whole point of the trip; one last opportunity to forget the troubles of the world by indulging in a beloved pastime. Who knows if we will ever get the chance again?

Was my trip absolutely necessary? The naysayers would say a definite ‘no’ to that, but given the horrors out there, and the fact I could indulge one last time, without once exposing myself or others to any risks, I say ‘yes’, it was necessary.
In my reality and for my sanity, it was possibly the most necessary thing I’ve ever done.

Stay safe everyone, and hopefully, I’ll see you on a road or on a track on the other side of the ‘lockdown’.

‘Till the next time.