Music and motorways are inexorably intertwined. Andrew Miles delves into the history of the Autobahn.
The exact location is unknown; it will be some thirty plus years ago. What is distinctly remembered was the jaw dropping, stop me in my tracks, overcome with tingling emotions tune.
The Model defines electronic purity. I had ‘found’ Kraftwerk and wanted to dig deeper. Hailing from Düsseldorf they, for me, embody a translucent melody, easy to follow and easy to dream along with. Music, as with cars, can be divisive: one man’s Moonlight Sonata can be another man’s PeetieWheatstraw or Bohemian Rhapsody. Many will dismiss Kraftwerk’s output as meaningless electronic beeps and bongs – to me it is highly orchestrated and simply defined.
And then I found another anthem. The piece of music known simply as Autobahn. “Fast up the autobahn” was what my ears heard. Years it took to realise “Wir fahren auf der Autobahn” was the line and not Fun up the Autobahn! Immediately connecting with tones of tyres on tarmac, the Doppler effect of passing traffic, the journey along to who knows where. At twenty two minutes long, you can Continue reading “We Drive Up The Autobahn”
In a Driven to Write first, we diverge into music critique. Japanese pop or Lebanese Blond? You decide.
Charlie Ghost and The Cakes of Boofe hope to storm the hit parade with their eloquently titled first album, Kettle Boiling. Being virtually unknown to the music industry with no gigs nor internet activity, their raucous blast fusing various musical themes, styles, instruments and presumably guilt free performances should see these surprisingly none too young expedites of tune propel at a rate of knots. That, or flounder like a fish gasping for air.
With such enforced secrecy, getting a handle on this outfit is hard; no photos, no social media just this, rather flippant message from the record label, Convenient Subsidence stating “A red notice to the world” – so let’s Continue reading “Album Review”
A famous footballer, a composer and musician and one shared passion. Andrew Miles delves into the mystic.
Predominantly, this site is for the automotive enthusiast. But with that enthusiasm comes other tangents, arguably tenuous but wholly relevant. To that end, we today delve into the worlds of football and music. One particular patrician of the game is no longer with us but still commands respect and admiration. The music side is dealt with through the medium best known as Jazz.
Johan Cruyff was born in Holland in 1947 near to the Ajax football stadium. Fear not dear reader, we are not striking any further into his on-pitch antics or managerial career. Benjamin Herman was born in London in 1968 though raised in Holland from an early age. What connects these two apart from the Dutch references? Please, Continue reading “Forward Orange”
The motorsport season doesn’t necessarily end when the mercury drops. Not in some places at least.
Get that Foreigner song out of your head immediately; this setting has far less cheese and way more cool, in terms of both occurrence on track as well as rather low temperatures usually due to being held 2,000 metres up an Alp. This is the e-Andros Trophy, a fully sideways, ice-crystalled love affair that’s now into its thirtieth year. And now it’s gone all modern, bidden au revoir to the combustion engine along with a big Bonjour! to electric power and some French stars of motorsport.
A potted history for you. Frédéric Gervoson and Max Mamers were friends sharing tastes and values; those of competition, friendliness, loyalty and racing cars. Classing themselves as (Mamers), “a sports entrepreneur” and (Gervoson) as an “entrepreneurial sportsman”, they collected up some interested parties to Continue reading “As Cold As Ice”
If this sounds too shady for you, best head to Practical Housekeeping, pronto. This is very blue.
Skilfully avoiding the TV new years sales adverts by heading for the internet, I found a Chevrolet Bel Air for sale. The price and to be honest the car, were immaterial; the colour on the other hand had me transfixed. What turned out to be called Larkspur Blue led me to Continue reading “Fifty Shades Today”
A recent piece of mine mentioned Škoda having a sense of fun with their ghost car prototype from their EGV department. Then I found this. Škoda does have an odd way of giving names to their vehicles; the journalists of the car world (and occasionally those outside it) make mirth mightily with these monikers. There’s no point in naming these magazines or authors as we try to avoid such trivia at Driven to Write. My position is to Continue reading “Yellow Car-ster”
Armed with only a bun for sustenance, Andrew Miles indulges in a spot of colour watching. His observations are below.
The supermarket can be an eminently dissonant place. A necessary evil; something of an endurance. But all is not lost, for as our usual café haunt was closed for refurbishment and as we had to visit the supermarket, we decided to invest in their facilities before commencing the weekly event of overfilling a metal trolley.
Luckily, this branch of J. Sainsbury’s is placed on stilts, so one parks underneath and the travellator moves you upwards bypassing the café which swiftly became my haven and inspiration for this little observation.
Motor racing is coming to Newcastle, courtesy of a former driver and the entrepreneurial spirit of a local lad made good.
At exactly 7kms, the track resembles Spa-Francorchamps and contains elevations and sinuous curves inspired by famous tracks the world over. Totally unlike Spa, Geordie Raceway is devoid of trees. Or indeed much else for this track is to be built on the former Prudhoe muck stacks of yore. Questions there are many.
I like Christmas. Well, as much as I like breathing, it kind of happens and is all over if you blink after one too many sherries. Which I fully plan to enjoy. But the dismal commercial cash in grates heavily with me. Bored out of my brain with our latest shopping dash for something or other, (not nutmeg for once) my eyes searched for something which would allow me to Continue reading “Dog’s Life”
A peek under the cover at Mladá Boleslav’s design process.
Car companies are rarely known for the philanthropy, charity work or comedy. Surely those who work within must see forms of any (or hopefully all) of these at some point. Making cars though is a serious business; livelihoods and reputations are at stake and those stakes are high. Thank goodness then for a small window opening into what is normally the most secretive of worlds – that of the prototype.
Former Škoda designer, Jozef Kabaň has been in the news of late, but what of his successor at Mladá Boleslav?
It’s two years since Jozef Kabaň left Škoda to be subsumed into the shadows at Rolls Royce (will we see or hear from him again? Well, yes as he’s now back with VW…) leaving the gap to be filled by German-born Oliver Stefani. In that time, he’s had plenty to get stuck into, Škoda Auto A.S. becoming rather prolific in pumping out model after model and whilst Kabaň’s input is obviously still there, Stefani’s style is now beginning to Continue reading “Škoda by Stefani”
Concluding our trip to the West coast, we return, demob happy to the Vulcan story.
The rather sinister sounding (to me) C.B. Wardman took over reins of a changed name again: Vulcan Motor Engineering, and at the close of hostilities bought a football club. Thus Southport Vulcan entered the football league as the first sponsored club. This was yet another short lived affair as the Football Association banned the club because of that very sponsorship; Southport FC returned.
Speaking of returns, cars as well as commercial vehicles were built once again but in 1919 under a different guise, that of a consortium of manufacturers under the title British Motor Trading Corporation with Harper Bean being the majority shareholder. The plan was for the Vulcan side to Continue reading “The God of Fire at the Seaside (3)”
In this second instalment, we turn to the story of Vulcan.
At a similar time to Lea, the Hampson brothers, Thomas and Joseph were setting up their business just East of Liverpool in the town of Wigan. Young Thomas was a keen pupil at Bolton Technical college in the late nineteenth century. Both brothers were mad for motoring; an article from the Wigan Reporter dated September 1899 stating that Joseph had been fined 40 shillings for “driving a motor car to the danger of passengers!” Sadly it is not stated as to what vehicle he was driving nor what happened to his passengers.
Walking the lesser trod pathways of the UK motor industry, so you don’t have to, Andrew Miles profiles pioneering Liverpudlians, Lea and Vulcan.
The English Northwest is more associated with other kinds of industry. Mills for cloth, wool, but pioneering car factories? Like many others in the Victorian era, Liverpool, long known as a port and Southport a seaside resort, prospered. This being DTW, we’re not here for fish, chips, the Beatles or a stroll along the pier; Southport (and its environs) had a car production past.
William Lea was an early adopter of the motor car. Born in Cheshire in 1845, he moved to Liverpool in his early twenties and over his 77 years, had eleven children to three wives. Making his money through the sale of musical instruments with his Pianoforte and Organ Warehouse in Liverpool centre (not as unusual a starting point for a career in the motor business as one might otherwise imagine), his focus was always on satisfying the customer. Continue reading “The God of Fire at the Seaside (1)”
Great news everyone. It’s pantomime season and who better to kick off this most joyous of entertainments than Tesla?
I’m sorry to sound rather curmudgeonly. I actually like pantomime. It’s as much for the adults as the kids, with a little innuendo, some (not so) subtle jokes and plenty of genuine laughs. As for the season, well, the curmudgeon levels within me rise. As age creeps ever on I see less appeal in Christmas and more irritation. All through the year, we get dragged into things we don’t wish to deal with, yet somehow in December, everything has to be completed before the 25th, as though the world may Continue reading “He’s Behind You!”
Scrubs up well for a forty year old. She’s kept her figure, had her wild years, now slowly gravitating toward middle age with maturity and style.
As a child I was mesmerised by the BASF colour scheme on the BMW M1. The car screams out speed, aggression, power; language that only red can truly deliver. The white circles emanate a sense of power, creating reflections akin to water ripples or the blast wave of an explosion, placed on the bodywork at jaunty angles.
Maybe on my tenth birthday the model arrived, not to be raced or hurled into the garden with abandon. No, this Red Devil was for cherishing, made centre stage, set apart from all those lesser model cars; pretty well untouched. My memory does not serve me well, did I Continue reading “Thirty Minutes”
Andrew Miles dons his Rally jacket in praise of the WRC.
For the past fifteen years, should you be named Sébastien and you hailed from France, you were World Rally Champion. No-one got else got a look in. Some came agonisingly close, but nine championships went to Sébastien Loeb whilst the other six fell Sébastien Ogier’s way.
That is until late in October in Catalunya, when rally fans the world over witnessed a new dawn. Ott Tänak from Estonia was the new boss, finally. And then promptly four days later informed the world he was to Continue reading “Finally, Ott”
Not wishing for one moment to hasten the demise of our favoured automobiles, we must take into account the future. With planners believing we’re all to live in mega cities with no need to own or run a car, we seek out alternatives, and as is so often the way, we look to the past to see the future.
In March 1972, the last of the UK’s once comprehensive trolley bus network was hooked down from the frog in Bradford, West Yorkshire. Leeds toyed with resurrecting the idea in the early 2000’s but came to nought. A sixty-year fling with this curious hybrid of omnibus and a railed, electrified tram was deemed non-standard, and the web of ‘must-be-followed’ grid was removed, never to Continue reading “The Quiet Revolution”
When the shakes get real bad, I like to reach for a tried and tested medium, a mechanism that’s bound to work; the Deutsche Tourenwagen Masters.
The 2019 season has concluded and without beating about the bush, German fellow René Rast who pilots an Audi RS5 DTM was crowned champion. With seven victories, thirteen podium visits and 322 accrued points, his preparation along with exemplary teamwork proved decisive over the eighteen races.
Like most racing drivers on the TV he appears amiable, that is until it all goes wrong when he can surprise the unwary commentary team or home viewer with just how many English expletives a German can vehemently put across. Apology accepted, heat of the moment, although who taught you that word, René?
The investment and pressures on teams and drivers are huge which is why salaries and sacrifices are equally so. I’d argue detrimental to health though it’s all too easy to Continue reading “Suffering The Dee Tee’s”
While undoubtedly both clever and worthy, the Toyota Mirai has up to now singularly failed to ignite automotive lust at ten paces, but this could be about to change.
Bypassing me and virtually everyone else it would seem, is the fact that you can now pop into a Toyota showroom and purchase a hydrogen powered car. Well, in theory. Reality always tastes differently, for you’d have to meet many and varied criteria, more of which later.
What began for the company that originally built looms as the Fuel Cell Vehicle experiment, continues with the Mirai (Japanese for The Future), which Toyota brought to the UK market in 2016. Prior to this, you needed to be Californian or Japanese to steer one. Few did. Numbers suggest a little over 5000 sold globally. In Blighty, we’ve scraped into the teens – just. Sales were never meant to Continue reading “I Fancy Her Sister”
The works car park is frequently a mundane beast. The same people in the same cars, day after day. Occasionally though, a visitor might just drive here in something a little more exotic, expensive or preferably just different.
In the past we’ve had a few Porsche’s, Boxsters and Cayennes though never any form of 911. Once a Mustang was heard burbling through but we believe the driver was lost, for once the exit was pin-pointed, the throttle was floored and the dust disturbed.
Pointless. Arguably polemic. Undeniably watchable. The on screen car chase has been with us for many a year. This isn’t to be a internet best of, a list of you have to see this or indeed real-life chases, they have no place here. My leanings are courtesy of (frequent DTW contributor) Matteo Licata – the more European-centric film chase from the late sixties and nineteen seventies.
Through Matteo’s lovely website “Roadster Life” he introduced me to some, in my eyes, positively excellent entertainment from dubiously acted, scripted and quixotic movies. These films are definitively of their time but have, akin to the cars used, become amenable in their advancing years. Continue reading “Inseguire!”
Today, our Northern correspondent admires a civil architectural landmark.
The Romans: famous for liking wine, partial to dividing and conquering, proficient with straight ways and bridge building. But what to do when your legions find a wide estuary literally, in the road? Diversions are costly and in this instance, a bridge too far*
Study a road atlas in North Humberside and you will see from Lincoln (Lindum Colonia) the dual carriageway A15 or, to Roman aficionados, Ermine Street, leads to junction 4 of the M180, the A18 to steel town Scunthorpe but also depletes to what is now a minor road. Roman historians believe a ferry crossing was made from either Winteringham or Whitton in order to Continue reading “Bridge Across The Humber”
DTW’s Sheffield correspondent risks his eardrums for your benefit.
The invite arrived by electronic mail some weeks previous; a chance for a trip out to the East Midlands and barring my fuel cost, a free afternoon out. With food. Chores fulfilled, leash slipped and Mansfield here we come. Well, just me, for my better half had found at least thirty-six other more pressing matters to attend to.
Understanding that mention of the Winged Arrow can elicit various forms of abuse from childish schoolyard comments to outright and snobbish denials – most unwarranted and to the great British public, still stemming from Škoda’s wayward seventies products. With Volkswagen’s serious cash inputs from the early 1990’s, the Czech brand has gained much strength, garnered popularity and has become a valuable asset to those in Wolfsburg. Continue reading “Amazing Faith”
Sliding then from the sculpture to the sow; Volvo’s Sugga, pronounced Soo-Ga is quite an exaggeration. And a world away from the Bilo.
Made strong and robust, which may have been mentioned earlier, initially as a taxi cab. The chassis was given the nomenclature PV800 and being built like the proverbial out-house was adored by taxi drivers for its longevity. Perhaps some Germans were on holiday in Sweden at some point and liked the idea of a strong, forever lasting, easy maintenance taxi cab? Again, hardly an elegant car having an American style with Swedish slants.
Originally conceived in 1938, the Sugga had a twenty year production run with variations from encompassing a glass screen to separate passengers from the driver (PV801) and the version omitting the screen (PV802) which lent itself to be easily converted into an ambulance, the stretcher for the poor soul being fed in through the boot. Still, if this vehicle assisted in saving your life, you could happily and rightfully Continue reading “The Sculpture and the Sow : Part two”
Andrew Miles casts his eye Northwards for a tale of marble and swine.
(c) The Guardian
In historical terms, Volvo are similar to Citroen; both engineering driven, both regarded as extreme at times, both brimming with frisson and an inbuilt nature to excel and impress, even if looking a tad more internally than we might expect. This tale deals with the Swedes.
We profile a local lad who ‘done good’ – both for himself and the industry he served.
Tom Purves spent forty three years within the car industry; roughly half each for Rolls Royce and BMW, thus, in essence for a German carmaker. From his apprentice years though to management at Crewe, rising to become CEO and Head of the entire American division for BMW from the mid ‘80’s to concluding his career at the very top of Goodwood’s silently slick factory.
Proudly Scottish with twangs of American vernacular; through interviews made nearly twenty years ago, some just before his retirement in 2010, Mr Purves informs us of a world changed beyond recognition. Spoiler alert: there are no mentions of SUV’s. Continue reading “Full Circle”
Keep yer supercars and your electric IDs, stuff the Kias and the over large grilles. My eyes on Frankfurt were directed to SoliSlovakia.
I’ve been so looking forward to seeing the New Defender. I’ve pored over the camouflaged shots. I’ve scrutinised the form. I won’t be buying one anytime soon so why this lust for the Land Rover? Personally, I think it’s the bees knees and will trounce the faux-four-by-fours.
Personally using the phrase “Gordon Bennet” whenever a profanity cannot be justified, his name became almost mythical. But just who was Gordon Bennet? And what can be the relevance to this site?
Mr Bennet could quite easily be compared to one Bernard Charles Ecclestone for ideas and plans concerning motor racing. Whereas Ecclestone made his money (though the means are not for here), Gordon Bennet was gifted the wealth. Employing nothing but his interest in the ways and means of transportation, Bennet wanted to sell newspapers, he being the owner/ editor of the New York Herald Tribune. Conjuring up the plan to sponsor races by boat, balloon and a little later into the future, aeroplanes.
Naturally our gaze falls upon the auto side of racing. Bennet had moved to Paris, bringing his newspaper with him and witnessed the growth of the motor industry. With France at the forefront of it all, Bennet saw and seized the opportunity to Continue reading “Shamrock Green to Cream”
We conclude the Goodyear saga as the World once more lurched into global conflict.
Remaining with purchases and the War, Goodyear’s supply of natural rubber was severely depleted once the Japanese took control of the far-East. Previous to hostilities, experiments were undertaken to ascertain a supply of synthetic rubber. The US government had even constructed a RubberReserve should stock become depleted.
Goodyear scientists had in fact succeeded in making a synthetic compound, the delightfully named Chemigum which had a negative effect on natural rubber prices; the research all but stopped. The Germans also had a product called Buna-S which they showed off but were curiously Schtum as to its properties and production.
Our Sheffield correspondent’s urgent mission for Myristica fragrans is disrupted by something shiny and yellow.
Gulp. Sharp intake of breath. No, not because talking to the salesman makes me nervous but my first design review for this oftentimes design-centric website. If you have yet to see my takes on design, prepare to be deflated. I like what I see. Well, sometimes. Then again, sometimes I’m horrified by what’s presented in front of me. But in this particular instance I liked – a lot.
An errand into town forced me past the row of car dealerships that inhabit the fringes of town. Virtually every make is available within a three mile corridor and if you can’t Continue reading “Nut Job”
Today we examine the UK motor industry prospects for the 1963 automotive graduate, and ponder what we’ve lost along the way.
Reading and being able to write are a huge staple in life. Do you remember when it all suddenly became clearer? I’m suspecting many of you (including me) out there don’t; though what you will remember is how wonderful it was to pick up a book and start to enjoy those words and pictures.
Sadly, as life in general often delivers at the most opportune moments, someone then told me ‘Don’t believe everything you read.’ Memories of being disappointed, deflated and downright angry spring to mind. But you Continue reading “Ghost Stories”
From dirigibles to snow cruisers – the inter-war years would see a further inflation of the storied tyre maker’s fortunes.
Initially in poor financial health, Goodyear maintained progress building more factory space as the oil and car industries grew around them. A favoured construction company, Hunking & Conkey of Cleveland had a great deal of empathy with their workforce; a foreman would sit near a pile of rocks, eager to Continue reading “Goodyear? For Some (Part three)”
A spot of lunchtime exercise reveals something of a kitty-litter.
My current work establishment is in a wealthy, leafy part of town. Not seen for a while, but a Bentayga resides round here. Many SUV’s of any brand you care to mention too along with some proper dross. But the other lunchtime and only hungry for inspiration, I found these three Jaguar XK’s in a five minute wander from the front gate.
Let’s start with feelings of actually photographing these cars. I’m not comfortable with going up to someone’s motor and clicking away till I get “the shot” Plus as you’ll see, one is on somebody’s property and whilst I can usually talk to anyone, especially about cars, I’m not about to Continue reading “A Walk to the Three Cats”
What sport spends millions of dollars in pursuit of a foot-high trophy by following a groove, avoiding wheel spin and watching a Christmas tree?
It’s not a trick question. The answer is Drag Racing and for this article specifically the top end of the NHRA, the National Hot Rod Association. There’s a $3M dollar purse. Spread that out and it barely covers the fuel bill. There must be something deeper at stake here.
Classes include Pro Stock, Motorcycles, Top Fuel and Funny Cars. Some of this will be revealed as it can get overly complicated. Top Fuel and Funny Cars are the most dominant, noisy, clearly un-environmentally friendly but the biggest crowd pleasers, home to the sport’s big names. Continue reading “Where’s Wally (R)”
After a huge renovation programme and fundraising operation, with a full thirteen employees, November 21st 1898 was the first day of Goodyear production. Bicycle tyres, rubber bands and poker chips were the original products. Goodrich had fire hoses, bottle stoppers and billiard cue-tips. Over in Europe, Michelin had pneumatic tyres fitted to cars in Paris.
We rarely notice them, but they’re the only things which keep us in contact with the road surface. In a new series for DTW, Andrew Miles gets up to his neck in the black stuff.
Charles Goodyear died in debt. Frank Seiberling did no such thing. What links the two is a story of endeavour, brutality, aggressive tactics and a whole host of honest “Ites”. Oh, and a rather large balloon.
Would the elder brother of Bertrand Russell really have camped out all night by the London council offices? Or, as one would back in the autumn of 1903, simply sent ones butler? History on this occasion just may be bunk.
For although A1 is the perceived and openly referenced original British number plate, with one Earl Russell being the purchaser, DY1 is in fact the first officially registered number plate in England. DY1 is recorded as being issued on 23rd November 1903 in Hastings, A1 in London the week before Christmas 1903. 24/11/1903, BH1, Buckinghamshire. 25/11/03 Y1, Somerset.
We’re pleased to welcome another reader turned author. Andrew Miles makes his DTW debut.
I love cars. I’m proud to say that they’ve dominated my forty eight years of life. From childhood memories of bashing up Matchbox (c) cars, gaining that hallowed piece of paper allowing me to drive on the queen’s highway and onto only recently discovering this site, it’s been quite a journey and one I’m hopeful of continuing for some time yet.
It is the way my car interest has diversified over time that continues my fascination and finds ever differing avenues to pursue. From motor racing in general to specific drivers. From specific brands such as Jaguar or Rolls Royce for example to focusing on but a handful and delving into their designers, methods, history. That final word is key. Continue reading “Bringing Home the Bacon”