Greyingfast
New Member
The good lady wife has always suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder as medical professionals have deemed it necessary to call Winter Whinging, however I rather like the different seasons we get. I must admit however that this week’s bright crisp days signalling the arrival of Spring have been well received, not only has the boss waxed lyrical about the fact Winter has finally bu****ed off, but the chance of the first blat of spring has been on the cards. The last few weeks of driving have consisted of the 10 minute run to and from work, or motorway bashing between meetings in the work chariot (Discovery 4). Before the barrage of unnecessary 4x4 hating begins, I regularly tow 3.5Tonnes and spend at least some time every week off road on work sites. Although a great machine and wonderfully capable, words such as dynamic, communicative and sporty may be in Land Rovers PR blurb but they don’t really translate, however the R26.R may struggle to keep up off road!
By 3pm today an opportunity to get out for a few hours finally arrived and the Megane’s card was in my hand in record time. For some reason I had taken it out of the garage a couple of hours earlier, under the pretence of “I just need to check all the fluids darling”. With everything checked and no nasty surprises found
It was time for the R26.R starting procedure that has developed. Door open, one leg in footwell and sink into the bucket seat with zero style. Card in and button pressed to start the wet stuff warming, smile about the exhaust note and . Sigh and silently reassure myself that it isn’t the sign of early onset Altsymers that I forgot to pull the centre harness buckle out of the bottom of the seat. Lift arse off seat and pull said buckle forward. Dislocate each shoulder to get straps into place and mutter about how stupid these seats and harnesses are. Clip everything together and pull straps tight, immediately fall back in love with the seats and wonder why they aren’t in all cars.
Inching out onto the road the car still feels lumpy and grumbly as the cool oil begins to warm. First glance in the mirror and the sight of the climbing frame never fails to bring a smile. The sound system in the Discovery is fantastic with good speakers and Bluetooth streaming from the phone means there is always something to listen to. Unfortunately when the original owner specced the R26.R he must have been having a cashflow issue, as not only did he ask them to remove the back seats to save a couple of quid, he couldn’t even stretch to ticking the radio and SatNav option, I know unbelievable isn’t it!
Heading towards Exeter on the A30 the temperatures are all where they should be and the upper rev bands can finally be accessed. There are truly very few better sounds than the first whoosh and scream from the Titanium exhaust as the red line approaches. The AIM race dash has shift lights to alert you of the impending limiter wall that will impede progress, and in a childish way it just adds to the drama. Attempted a photo of said lights (I know such antics whilst driving are ill advised, but forum insistences for photographic accompaniment took hold), however you can’t even see the lights in the snap so a total waste of time, but its included anyway.
Skirting around Exeter I’m heading to the road that follows the estuary and then coastline towards Dawlish and then Teignmouth. It’s a twisting B Road with occasional straights and dotted with villages. On a quite day it’s a cracking road and one I know well having commuted along it between Dawlish and Exeter for a couple of years, in a Lancia Thema 1.82 that provided moments of euphoria closely followed by a desire to set fire to it and push it off a cliff……bl**dy brilliant car despite its many flaws. Unfortunately today was not a quite day as numerous Micra’s and Matis’s had been dusted down for a blue rinse bimble to the coast. Occasional breaks in the traffic enabled overtakes to maintain progress, but it was a bit frustrating. Dawlish came and went and the lure of seeing where the storms had swallowed the railway line thinned out the traffic and play time was re-instated. It’s still early days for me with the R and every drive reveals another layer of brilliance. It’s ridiculous how this thing tackles corners, almost encouraging corner entry speeds that would humble cars worth three times as much.
Over the course of a mile or two between Teignmouth and Torquay along the coast road it was phenomenal. A Merc C63 AMG tagged along for half the time and on the straights the grunt of the German was evident, but through a series of corners it just fell away. I appreciate it’s hardly a sports car and the driver was not the best, but they are properly quick things.
Out of Torquay along the back road to Newton Abbot allowed a couple of smiles, particularly an off camber corner that tightens twice and can be a bit spicy if taken too quickly. As the road straightened I had the familiar feeling this car provides, I could have gone through there at a speed that the Daily Mail would dedicate ½ a page to if the old bill witnessed it. We crawled through traffic heading out of Newton Abbot towards Exeter for 18 miles of dual carriageway. I didn’t look down at the dash so can’t guarantee that the speed limit wasn’t breached, but an Audi S5 passed me with I assume a woman in labour on board, as pushing on is an understatement!
Into Exeter’s outskirts for some Squeeze, Bang, Push juice on the dual carriageway back towards the M5 a classic shape Imprezza filled the rear mirror. Any petrol head can pick one out in a split second, but to eliminate any doubt the owner had applied a bright green strip across the top 1/3 of the windscreen that read SUBARU. As we pulled up to a red light the passenger seat occupant subtly hollered over “Oi mate, I F***ing hate Clio’s there s**t”. I resisted the temptation to explain in detail that it was a Megane rather than a Clio as I suspected he didn’t really care. Instead I replied that I rather liked Scooby’s. It was clear that at some point the owner had driven through Halfords and glued everything he could to his chariot, it looked…… well I can’t really explain how it looked. The silence that followed my comment about Scooby’s was broken by him flat four rumble as he revved his engine, being a sensible 40Yr old I revved mine in return, checking my mirrors and with nothing behind I calmly selected reverse and revved again. Lights changed and the Scooby sprinted off the line as I reversed briefly, nothing winds them up more. As I pulled up at the next set of lights no further conversation was offered from the Scooby, but they did offer some hand signals that I assume were a form of sign language.
Home over Woodbury Common is a favourite and is fun even in the Disco, the Gorse Moor is home to a great road that twists and turns and really hits the spot. The run up to it didn’t delight as traffic was relentless, never mind I thought great road waiting. Rounding the last corner and pulling up to the T Junction, the road closed signs and diversion arrows pointing towards where I had come from initiated a series of expletives and in all seriousness a total over reaction, but at the time it was as disappointing as when X Factor changes from the auditions where people with no talent bear their souls, to a group of people that can either sing or have been auto tuned. I retraced my steps and other than a few empty stretches I cruised home, accelerating unnecessarily to enjoy the noise that was brilliantly explained in Evo as similar to Darth Vadar hoovering. Reversing into the garage, I unclipped myself and sat quietly for a minute or two as the car idled, although not the best blat due to traffic and road closures (still not seeing the funny side of Woodbury being closed) its testament to what RenaultSport produced that it was still very special. As ever I had to look back as I walked away as befits a special car.
By 3pm today an opportunity to get out for a few hours finally arrived and the Megane’s card was in my hand in record time. For some reason I had taken it out of the garage a couple of hours earlier, under the pretence of “I just need to check all the fluids darling”. With everything checked and no nasty surprises found
It was time for the R26.R starting procedure that has developed. Door open, one leg in footwell and sink into the bucket seat with zero style. Card in and button pressed to start the wet stuff warming, smile about the exhaust note and . Sigh and silently reassure myself that it isn’t the sign of early onset Altsymers that I forgot to pull the centre harness buckle out of the bottom of the seat. Lift arse off seat and pull said buckle forward. Dislocate each shoulder to get straps into place and mutter about how stupid these seats and harnesses are. Clip everything together and pull straps tight, immediately fall back in love with the seats and wonder why they aren’t in all cars.
Inching out onto the road the car still feels lumpy and grumbly as the cool oil begins to warm. First glance in the mirror and the sight of the climbing frame never fails to bring a smile. The sound system in the Discovery is fantastic with good speakers and Bluetooth streaming from the phone means there is always something to listen to. Unfortunately when the original owner specced the R26.R he must have been having a cashflow issue, as not only did he ask them to remove the back seats to save a couple of quid, he couldn’t even stretch to ticking the radio and SatNav option, I know unbelievable isn’t it!
Heading towards Exeter on the A30 the temperatures are all where they should be and the upper rev bands can finally be accessed. There are truly very few better sounds than the first whoosh and scream from the Titanium exhaust as the red line approaches. The AIM race dash has shift lights to alert you of the impending limiter wall that will impede progress, and in a childish way it just adds to the drama. Attempted a photo of said lights (I know such antics whilst driving are ill advised, but forum insistences for photographic accompaniment took hold), however you can’t even see the lights in the snap so a total waste of time, but its included anyway.
Skirting around Exeter I’m heading to the road that follows the estuary and then coastline towards Dawlish and then Teignmouth. It’s a twisting B Road with occasional straights and dotted with villages. On a quite day it’s a cracking road and one I know well having commuted along it between Dawlish and Exeter for a couple of years, in a Lancia Thema 1.82 that provided moments of euphoria closely followed by a desire to set fire to it and push it off a cliff……bl**dy brilliant car despite its many flaws. Unfortunately today was not a quite day as numerous Micra’s and Matis’s had been dusted down for a blue rinse bimble to the coast. Occasional breaks in the traffic enabled overtakes to maintain progress, but it was a bit frustrating. Dawlish came and went and the lure of seeing where the storms had swallowed the railway line thinned out the traffic and play time was re-instated. It’s still early days for me with the R and every drive reveals another layer of brilliance. It’s ridiculous how this thing tackles corners, almost encouraging corner entry speeds that would humble cars worth three times as much.
Over the course of a mile or two between Teignmouth and Torquay along the coast road it was phenomenal. A Merc C63 AMG tagged along for half the time and on the straights the grunt of the German was evident, but through a series of corners it just fell away. I appreciate it’s hardly a sports car and the driver was not the best, but they are properly quick things.
Out of Torquay along the back road to Newton Abbot allowed a couple of smiles, particularly an off camber corner that tightens twice and can be a bit spicy if taken too quickly. As the road straightened I had the familiar feeling this car provides, I could have gone through there at a speed that the Daily Mail would dedicate ½ a page to if the old bill witnessed it. We crawled through traffic heading out of Newton Abbot towards Exeter for 18 miles of dual carriageway. I didn’t look down at the dash so can’t guarantee that the speed limit wasn’t breached, but an Audi S5 passed me with I assume a woman in labour on board, as pushing on is an understatement!
Into Exeter’s outskirts for some Squeeze, Bang, Push juice on the dual carriageway back towards the M5 a classic shape Imprezza filled the rear mirror. Any petrol head can pick one out in a split second, but to eliminate any doubt the owner had applied a bright green strip across the top 1/3 of the windscreen that read SUBARU. As we pulled up to a red light the passenger seat occupant subtly hollered over “Oi mate, I F***ing hate Clio’s there s**t”. I resisted the temptation to explain in detail that it was a Megane rather than a Clio as I suspected he didn’t really care. Instead I replied that I rather liked Scooby’s. It was clear that at some point the owner had driven through Halfords and glued everything he could to his chariot, it looked…… well I can’t really explain how it looked. The silence that followed my comment about Scooby’s was broken by him flat four rumble as he revved his engine, being a sensible 40Yr old I revved mine in return, checking my mirrors and with nothing behind I calmly selected reverse and revved again. Lights changed and the Scooby sprinted off the line as I reversed briefly, nothing winds them up more. As I pulled up at the next set of lights no further conversation was offered from the Scooby, but they did offer some hand signals that I assume were a form of sign language.
Home over Woodbury Common is a favourite and is fun even in the Disco, the Gorse Moor is home to a great road that twists and turns and really hits the spot. The run up to it didn’t delight as traffic was relentless, never mind I thought great road waiting. Rounding the last corner and pulling up to the T Junction, the road closed signs and diversion arrows pointing towards where I had come from initiated a series of expletives and in all seriousness a total over reaction, but at the time it was as disappointing as when X Factor changes from the auditions where people with no talent bear their souls, to a group of people that can either sing or have been auto tuned. I retraced my steps and other than a few empty stretches I cruised home, accelerating unnecessarily to enjoy the noise that was brilliantly explained in Evo as similar to Darth Vadar hoovering. Reversing into the garage, I unclipped myself and sat quietly for a minute or two as the car idled, although not the best blat due to traffic and road closures (still not seeing the funny side of Woodbury being closed) its testament to what RenaultSport produced that it was still very special. As ever I had to look back as I walked away as befits a special car.
