It's an undisclosed date, time and place.
The trees are still and the air heavy. A Renault Sport Clio Cup 172, driven by The Mechanic, bites hard on the English air. We overtake desperately...
"Let me take you round the lanes" he'd said.
I'd had a short go in the 172. I'd found it to be a revelation. I could actually feel the front axle moving around in my hands. The steering was brilliant, the engine, eager and sonorous. I'd feared an over rated, uncomfortable cardboard box. True, the Renault is no solid German but it's better then you think. True, the last Clio I'd driven had felt odd, somehow perching you on top of the car instead of inside it.
But the 172...
The 172 was comfortable, the ride wasn't too hard, the gearbox, although slightly vague didn't suffer from French pudding syndrome. In other words it didn't feel like I was stirring porridge. Even though it didn't have ABS or any sort of electronic aids I was sure we would be ok.
Thus;
Rule No. 002 - Safety Is Absolutely Coupled To Feel
After promised lanes an over eager exit from town had met a 330d in police livery coming the other way. After I'd sent my friend down a dead end drive way we'd exited and cooled off. We'd turned back and got on it again. We'd met the 330d again. The 172 providing the extension to his strength, The Mechanic had hurled us down the road towards lanes unclassified.
"We'll be fine" I'd assure.
"We'll be reported" I'd schizophrenically added.
Later, the Renault ticking at the side of the road, I'd asked the more mundane questions. The answers, 35-40 mpg, no major trouble, totally reliable, had told me all I needed to know. I want one. I want one badly. Perhaps not badly enough to get chased around though...
Transmission Ends....
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