The Griffith Experience Part 8
Last blast of 2008
What a splendid way to round off my 2008 Griffith experiences. Sunday was the last gathering of the year for my local (Herts and Beds www.tvrcc-herts-beds.co.uk) branch of the TVR Car Club so I was determined to make it – a busy summer packed with classic car events and other commitments meant the third Sunday of the month often clashed with something else.
Not this time, and by way of encouragement the day started warm (for December) and sunny. Just what I needed to blow away the winter blues, so I stashed the top in the boot and set off on what I hoped would be an enjoyable round trip to end up at the pub venue.
I say ‘hoped’ because I never plot these drives properly, instead relying on an eye for a good driving road and a nose for the right direction to lead me towards the chosen destination. Sometimes I end up crawling through too many villages or held up with slow-moving traffic, but eventually I know I’ll always find the right blend of smoothish, winding and deserted roads to properly exploit the TVR’s performance and handling.
Because of the recent manky weather and the journeys I’ve ended up doing I’ve spent too much time on the motorway with the roof up. Although the Griffith is barely exercised at motorway speeds and the clever roof design seals out the wind and rain effectively, it’s not the best way to enjoy these cars. The problem, as on many convertible sports cars, is that the roof seems to trap all sorts of minor mechanical noise, from the whirring fuel pump to assorted transmission accompaniments, in the car. With the top down, all you can hear is that delicious blat and rumble from the V8 floating behind in your wake.
My route started when I left the A1 just south of Biggleswade, heading east towards Eyeworth before turning right onto the B1042. After a few miles this hits the A1198 which takes you south towards the A505 near Royston. Today I wanted to avoid dual carriageways as much as possible so I crossed the 505 and nosed the Griff through Royston in search of a more interesting loop back towards the A1.
Somehow I found my way to a B road that climbs up through Royston heath towards Therfield and onwards via a mixture of narrow mucky lanes and fast sweeping tarmac to the village of Buckland. It was probably my imagination but the car seemed sharper and more responsive on that day, the unassisted and normally heavy steering feeling more fluid and direct as I fed it through my palms and the bellowing exhaust note seeming crisper and more urgent. Those of you who live anywhere north or west of the midlands probably wouldn’t get out of bed to drive roads like these but the rolling farmland and big-sky views were inexplicably exhilarating that day.
And they were about to get better. Picking up the A10 south I spotted signs for Buntingford where one of my favourite stretches of local road begins – the A 507 to Baldock. Catch it at a busy moment and overtaking opportunities are sparse, so settling into a lazy cruise it the best option, but on lighter days, or if your classic has enough grunt for incisive overtaking, and it becomes one of those rolling twisting, turning, tyre-stretching ribbons of tarmac that sports cars were built for.
This was one of those sunny days when people draw back the curtains, spot the sunshine and think ‘I know, let’s get the car out and see just how slowly we can drive it along some twisting country lanes dear.’ Fortunately, the Griffith 500 has ample power and little weight to shift, making short stretches of clear road suitable and sane possibilities for overtaking. I always think it a little hypocritical that the same Mr and Mrs 50mph who flash their headlights at my ‘reckless’ overtaking always seem to catch up later when I’ve slowed down to 30mph through the next town or village.
All too soon the fun had to cool down as I rumbled through Baldock and out onto the A1 for the short run to meet the TVR Club at the Tudor Oaks pub. Regional organizer Mal was pleased to see a car park brimming with Griffiths, Cerberas, an S and more besides. Within minutes of getting out of my car I was swapping TVR stories with Chimaera owner Mick and by the time we’d run out of things to say it was time to head home again.
Days like this are a real shot of automotive endorphins, re-enthusing me with all of the good things about owning a charismatic old car. Fuel prices? Depreciation? I don’t care, I’m having the time of my life.
Posted:
Words: Phil Bell
