Strictly speaking, not actually an article as it has never been published. I just wrote it to mark 25 years of Scimitar ownership but no-one was interested in printing it. Oh well - at least you are reading it!

It has been said that busyness is the disease of the 20th (and 21st) century. I am definitely infected. Apart from my day job as an engineer, when I get home, I take on the roles of full time father, husband, property maintenance team and churchwarden for an 800-year-old church. There is rarely enough time to sit back and contemplate the more difficult questions in life but for me, one of these rare occasions has just occurred.

We had been invited by one of my old school friends to celebrate his silver wedding in Topsham near Exeter. This fitted in well with our plans to visit my Mum a little further down the A38 at Totnes where I was brought up through the 60s and 70s. The only drawback was the date: August Bank holiday. Alarm bells rang! The M5 on a Bank holiday! Our solution was to travel down late on the Friday night and miss the crowds. We packed the car and left Lutterworth at about 9.00pm. We made our way down the steep hill of Market Street and past the sign that proudly announced the towns ancient fame as the 14th century parish of the pioneering bible translator John Wycliffe. We crossed the small bridge over the river Swift into which his ashes were scattered after the Pope decreed they should be cast out of consecrated ground – failing to realise that it would only provide a more fitting end to his life’s story. We shunned the option of joining the M1 and went straight over the roundabout and onto the open A426 towards Rugby. We passed through the shadow of a dramatic monument to another hero of Lutterworth. In 2001 a life-sized replica of an E28 jet plane was erected on the roundabout to commemorate the first flight of Frank Whittle’s revolutionary jet engine in May 1941. He had a factory and offices at Lutterworth in 1938.

As Lutterworth disappeared in the mirror, we had a trouble free three mile drive crossing the old Roman Fosse Way – now somewhere under the A5 - and joining the motorway system at junction 1 of the M6. It would be motorway for the next four hours now – M6, M42 and M5. Plenty of time to contemplate. Sure enough, the roads were fairly quiet and the driving was easy. We travelled at our usual relaxed pace of 60 to 70 mph. It was dark so there were few scenic distractions and we had travelled that route so often that there was nothing new for us to see anyway. So it was that I found myself wrestling with a question that had been on my mind for many months:

I am nearly 50. I have long been an admirer of the Rover 75 and Jaguar S type. My patriotism and loyalty to fellow British engineers aside, these are recognised as fine automobiles in their own right. Depreciation has brought them in range of my modest savings. Modern technology has delivered high levels of safety, reliability, economy and comfort. Why then, was I on my way to Totnes in a 27 year old lump of fibreglass and cast iron?

As the M6 turns into the M42 it’s time to concentrate. With the new road system, I don’t want to inadvertently find myself paying a toll! It’s a matter of principle. Under the earlier legislation, I shouldn’t be paying any road tax on my 27 year old car which seems fair to me in view of its low annual mileage so I definitely don’t intend to pay three times over for the privilege of driving (road tax, fuel tax, toll).

We got safely onto the M42 which was to take us around the south of Birmingham. Where was I? Oh yes – my choice of car.

Back in the 70’s, after years of tinkering with cars only to watch them mock my care by dissolving into brown dust, I decided to find a vehicle that would provide a more robust receptacle for my investment of time, money and care. Something rust proof! There were a few around - but for a young engineer on a budget, Lotus, TVR and the rest of the specialist manufacturers were too expensive to buy and run. There was, in fact, only one candidate that combined a rust free body, reasonable purchase price, good performance, mass production parts availability, reliability, good looks and enough room to make it a practical method of transport - the Scimitar GTE. Although I had come to this decision quite objectively, the events that led to my eventual choice were totally subjective. By this time I was in my last year at University and looking forward to earning a reasonable salary (there were no student loans to clear in those days). I was passing the local garage and saw a red SE6a on the forecourt. At that time (April 1979) it was only 2.5 years old and the Ogle styling made it stand out from the other cars. I got chatting to the salesman who invited me to go for a spin on my own which seemed very trusting. I took him up on the offer. On my return, I negotiated a price. A faulty wheel bearing gave me some leverage. It was decided that I would pay a 50% deposit and close the deal when the forthcoming salary allowed. Thus, some 6 months later, I paid the balance and drove it home to Bristol, but why was I still driving it some 25 years later?

The first reason that sprang to mind was that I had never NEEDED to change it. When Reliant MD Ray Wiggins issued the GTE design specification to Ogle Design back in 1968, he specified that it should be a proper 4 seater. I had bought it as a bachelor but with the arrival of a wife and two sons, Ray’s clause bore fruit. It proved roomy enough for our family transport. Holidays were a bit more of a challenge and extra luggage capacity was required for the tents and gear. Fortunately, the car was fitted with a towbar when purchased so the rear end of a minivan was purchased for £10, converted into a trailer and painted to match the car. This provided plenty of capacity until we moved on to a folding camper. We are now on our second but the trailer is still used for transporting bulky or messy items.

Memories of many happy holidays give way to real-time concentration as the M42 merges with the southbound M5. It’s a busy junction but no problem this time of night. We’re on the M5! I mentally relax again. This road – later becoming the A38 – will take us within walking distance of our destination. For now though, the A38 just shadows us like a highwayman. Just out of sight. A reminder of an earlier age when a journey of this distance was a serious undertaking.

Back to the question in mind. Apathy alone was not why I was still driving this car. Through the years I had continued to tinker but, knowing it was a long-term investment, I had a policy of ‘no-expense-spared’ right from the start. The first fruit of this philosophy was a stainless steel exhaust system. The original had fallen off in quite a dramatic fashion on the descent from Hardknot Pass in the Lake District (on our honeymoon!). As I recalled our honeymoon, I wondered at Kathy’s understanding. After two weeks in the Lake District, we decided to visit some friends camping at Calver in Derbyshire on the way back. Then we decided to stay over night but - no tent! Never mind! We put the rear seats flat and climbed into the extended luggage compartment where we spent the last night of our honeymoon.

The rather pathetic 1970’s lights were replaced with quartz halogen units in the 1990’s with relays to suit. In recent years, the heads were converted to unleaded at a cost of £600 plus my labour. In addition to the more expensive updates, there have been dozens of minor improvements which have been more about time than money: a fire extinguisher concealed in the drivers footwell panel, elastic straps in the centre console to make sure pens and pressure gauge are always at hand, relays for everything that is likely to overload a switch, a master electric cut-out switch, uprated brake hoses, a mercury switch on the rear hatch to trigger a courtesy light (salvaged from our old freezer!). A lot of these items were done as a result of years of mixing with other enthusiasts and reading the owners club magazines. Some of this accumulated knowledge was manifested not in any material modifications, but in modifications to the service schedule. The trunnions are greased more regularly, the back axle oil is changed every 3000 miles or so, and – most importantly, the cooling system is flushed and refilled at 50% antifreeze every two years. As a result of this, the cooling problems that seem to afflict other owners are completely foreign to me except for a tendency to run a little cooler than I would like. One well-known problem I did suffer on the cooling front however, was fuel vaporisation in the mechanical pump on the front of the engine. It was this that led me to follow fashion and fit a Citroen BX electric fan three years ago in place of the standard one. Although it is a similar diameter, I checked the current consumption on the bench before fitting and found it was exactly 50% more powerful. Cars with extensive main dealer service history are commonplace but mine had something more. It embodied years of my time, care and thought. I was starting to realise the answer to my question.

After about 2 hours on the road, a stop was well overdue so we pulled in as usual at Michaelwood Services just North of Bristol for a coffee and to stretch our legs. Then it was back on the road. From here on it was, psychologically, a very different journey. For 22 years I had lived in Bristol and travelled home along this road. Before the M5 was complete, I used the A38. The road and the towns it passed by had familiar, friendly names that were rich with memories. Before that, I travelled the same road as a boy in the back of Mum and Dad’s Morris Traveller for the annual trip to the folks in London. Sleep spared my sister and I the fatigue that Mum and Dad must have experienced on those epic journeys.

As the M5 squeezes between Bristol and the Severn estuary with Wales beyond, we got a glimpse of the new Second Severn Crossing into Wales to our right. As we descend the hill and cross the Avonmouth Bridge, far below we saw a glittering sea of orange as the dock lights reflect off thousands of identical new cars. Avonmouth is the centre of car importing into this country from all over the world. About 500,000 cars a year arrive here. Every one designed to meet the strictest of regulations on emissions and safety. Every penny accounted for in the fight to give the demanding consumer slightly more performance, economy or extras than its rival. I marvel at the gadgets that are available even in low budget cars today. Thousands of cars – all identical. Now there’s a clue!

Mind you, the GTE was well equipped for its day with relatively good performance. In addition, the basic design of the cars was well thought out. The long bonnet houses a spare wheel above the cross flow radiator and electric fan while the heavy V6 is well back against the bulkhead. This effectively results in a permanently inflated air bag. This, together with the excellent energy absorbing qualities of the heavy lay-up glassfibre (remember Lotuses and Robins are built to a weight, Scimitars are built to a robust specification) results in a very safe car for head-on impacts and good weight distribution (almost 50/50 back and front when fully occupied). I saw this first hand on one occasion when a Capri ran into the front of my car when I was parked. But despite the addition of an add-on electronic ignition system and theft alarm, it was no match for the computerisation, fuel injection, multiple airbags and ABS of the Rover or Jaguar. A well maintained and tuned engine and some help from JW Developments ensures I still smile like the proverbial Cheshire cat when I am lucky enough to find something to overtake on an ‘A’ road. The torquey 3 litre engine, overdrive gearbox and 20 gallon tank mean I can cruise at motorway speeds for extended periods but a high specification is no longer a reason to be driving a GTE.

I WAS tempted to change it once. In 1980 Reliant had realised the potential of a separate chassis construction and their hand built production techniques to produce a 4 seater soft top version of the GTE - the GTC. It seemed to me to offer all the advantages of the GTE (except perhaps for the inevitably more bland styling) but with the extra dimension that open top motoring delivers. Bear in mind that this was before air-conditioning was commonplace. With no opening rear side windows or sunroof (a factory option I maybe should have looked for), the kids had complained it was stuffy in the back seats. Then one day a club member asked me to help him sell his GTC and left me with the keys for a couple of weeks. It was summer so I was able to get the top down on several occasions and I enjoyed the experience. Unfortunately, Kathy did not. As I looked over and saw her huddled into the footwell with a scarf over her head and complaining of earache, I knew she did not share my enthusiasm for this “extra dimension”. Reliant only ever made 443 GTC’s. Surprisingly few, but the inability of the motoring punter to appreciate the concept soon became apparent after production ceased in 1986 as prices for the GTC stabilised at about double the price of an equivalent GTE.

The Somerset levels behind us, we see a few clusters of lights hinting at the existence of villages and hamlets nestling in the Blackdown Hills. One landmark that is even more visible at night than it is at day is high up on our left – The floodlit monument to Arthur Wellesley – also know as the Duke of Wellington who took his title from this little Somerset town in 1809. What a giant he must have been to have someone paying the electricity bill nearly 200 years after his death! More to our interest, its sight heralds our entrance into Devon.

So, a convertible was out, I had invested a lot of time, money and energy in the GTE and it did everything I needed it to. But there was something else. As I reflected on the many changes I had seen over the years associated with the car. Some rather disturbing mathematical facts started to come into my mind. Since built 27 years ago, not only had the Reliant factory at Tamworth (which I had visited) become a housing estate, but I reckoned a significant proportion of the people who worked on the car were in retirement or even dead! There would probably never be another brand-new Scimitar GTE built. Like a lot of classic car owners, I began to realise that I wasn’t so much the owner as the custodian of this historic vehicle. I also projected my ownership forward by the same timespan as had passed. There was a chance that I would not be fit to drive it in 25 years time. I would certainly have to prove to the authorities that I was. I realised that, at its present rate of decay, it would almost certainly out-live me! It was dawning on me how long 25 years was and that the main reason I was still driving it had to do with that sentimentality. I started to remember all the places it had taken us. It had provided the transport for every holiday we had ever taken. There was sand in the well-worn carpets from beaches from Wales, France, Ireland, Cornwall, Whitby, Devon, etc, and the odd Pine needle from many a Christmas tree. As I drove along, I could still see a carpark ticket from Chew Valley Lakes stuck down the back of the dashboard. I remembered we had stopped for a picnic and to exercised the tortoise on our way to Devon in the summer. I wondered if the tortoise would out-live me?

The Scimitar had not only been my transport through my adult life, it had also, on some occasions, influenced my life itself. I figured it would be a good idea to join the owners club as soon as I bought it. Unfortunately, there was no meeting in the Bristol area so I put an ad in the club magazine and got sufficient response to start a monthly meeting at a local pub. This was the start of 15 years as ‘noggin’ secretary. I met dozens of other enthusiasts, many of whom became friends. We swapped information and parts that helped us all keep our cars on the road. I remember someone coming in one evening and selling ex-MOD parachutes for dust sheets. One of our senior members went quite misty-eyed at the smell of real silk. There were the occasional gatherings for bodyshell fittings/removals. I held a welding party in my garage once (gas, arc and mig). But the Scimitar is a family car and most owners had ‘other halves’ to keep happy so we started to organise social events such as treasure hunts and picnics. The Bristol Classic Car Show and Castle Coomb Action Day became regular events. It was sad when I eventually had to leave Bristol but I still keep in touch with a few of the guys.

By the time we moved from Bristol to Lutterworth, years of care had ensured the GTE was tidy enough to use for shows (although far from concours). It was at one of those shows when my car was on the stand – the NEC in 1998 – that I finally got the opportunity to meet the two men most responsible for the birth of the GTE. Ex Reliant MD Ray Wiggins, the man with the foresight and commitment to commission the project, and designer Tom Karen, ex MD of Ogle Design in Letchworth. Both were invited to help celebrate the 30th birthday of the GTE. I had read in Don Pither’s book “The Scimitar and its Forebears” how they had brought the concept to a production reality that continued largely unchanged from 1968 to 1990. Now I had the chance to meet these men of vision. When I did, I was heartened to find both men were friendly to all concerned and obviously still had a strong friendship for one another. They did not disappoint us in answering all our questions about the cars and their history and reliving the past for us. Talking to Tom in that informal, friendly atmosphere, it was easy to forget that we were talking to a man whose influence on design had spanned 5 decades at such places as Ford, Hotpoint and Philips. It was at Ogle Design he had most influence. For their broad range of clientele he designed amongst other things, the Raleigh Chopper, the Bond Bug and, of course the Scimitar GTE. No surprise when he was appointed Managing Director on the tragic death of the company founder David Ogle. Both are now honorary members of the Drivers Club. The show ended and we went back to our day jobs unaware that fate would bring us all together again in October 2000.

Scimitar enthusiasts often get frustrated that the car seems to be held in less esteem than those with more exotic badges for that reason alone. There is a strong band of Scimitar motor racing enthusiasts who regularly compete successfully with such sports classics with considerable success. My family will often hear me muttering such things as “That’s almost as fast as a Scimitar”, “That’s the price of 15 GTE’s”, “Reliant did that in 1968”, etc, on the sofa when Top Gear are reviewing some new multi-ten-thousand pound car. Consequently, when Pete Harper from the Drivers Club gave me a call one Autumn evening to say he was getting some cars together for a Top Gear feature, the valet equipment was in constant use for the next few weeks. Apart from the usual cleaning, polishing and blacking, it gave me the excuse to buy a new ‘crash pad’ (dashboard top). The original foam unit has a tendency to warp in the heat of the sun and spoils the look of the car. They need replacing every 15 to 20 years but are hard to get hold of these days so the GRP one supplied from Avon Classics is a better option. It was a good move as it turned out. A selection of Reliants (Robin, Coupe, SE5a, SE6a, SST, SS1 and Sabre) assembled early on a bleak but dry October day by a lake at Chasewater Country Park near Cannock. The audience consisted of builders constructing the new visitor centre and a selection of wildfowl of which the swans were the most curious and obvious – giving the film crew ample opportunities for out-takes. The memories of the day are vivid still. I remember being asked to overtake a Robin as fast as possible. Fine except that I found myself bearing down on a speed ramp at full throttle. The stopping was dramatic but fortunately no damage was done. We met Ray and Tom again. They were interviewed inside my car. Then I remember when it was time to go to the pub for lunch. Tiff Needell asked my young son if he would like a lift to the pub with him but he declined. He said he had been told never to accept lifts with strange men. When we eventually got to the pub, I parked and was rather surprised to discover Tiff Needell’s legs protruding from the back of the car. Fortunately I had not run him over. He just wanted a look underneath. He was surprised at the live rear axle. I was concerned that he was comparing my 1977 GTE with his sophisticated BMW 7 series. I tried to turn his surprise to a positive point by responding “It’s a matter of cast iron and brute force with these” (robust!). Apparently a more comprehensive “The Car’s the Star” programme was planned for the Scimitar but never got made because the money ran out. Shame!

That was the one and only time my car was on TV but it got the chance to represent the marque one more time in April 2004. Once again, Pete Harper interrupted my winter hibernation in the garage with a phone call. This time it was for a photo shoot at Rockingham Motor Speedway in Northampton. Practical Classics were doing a feature on the nation’s favourite 100 classic cars. It was a day of mixed weather but enjoyable non-the-less with nearly 100 pristine classics and their owners mingling around. I took the opportunity to chat to the owners of a Bond Bug and Vauxhall Viva HA between photos. Although there was no video to shoot, we were asked to do a 20mph formation drive around the circuit. This was a bit hairy with so many cars in such close proximity - every one cherished by the owner. Still, all went well and the most expensive classic car pile-up of all time was avoided. Finally there were the individual photos and off home we returned.

The next outing was towing the folding camper to Yorkshire for our two-week annual holiday. A milestone this year: it was the first year neither son was in attendance. They had both reached the age of independence. It was perhaps a little sad. We were aware that, for the first time in 19 years, there was no one in the seats behind us to point out the sights to but we soon got used to the new freedom to please ourselves and camping is much easier without kids! Although I have never been too sentimental about the GTE (“it” not “she”) I almost felt like there were three of use getting used to a new phase in our lives. Looking back with affection at what was lost but discovering that life had rich new memories in the making for us all.

We briefly illuminate the sign that announces Devon! As we enter a brief stretch of four lane highway, concentration has to be focussed on the road again. Here we bypass Exeter. In a moment we become aware of a change in the terrain - more winding. We go through a deep cutting with a road bridge high above us in a single span. An impressive structure for a relatively insignificant ‘B’ road but in my mind it has always signified the border of home territory. Instantly the M5 imperceptibly turns into the A38. I guess it would have cost too much to engineer the road to the required motorway gradients from now on. Certainly the unsuspecting motorist would be caught out by the sudden appearance of the long steep gradient of Haldon Hill. Not me though. I know its coming and relish the chance to blow away the cobwebs by flooring it without exceeding the speed limit. At the crest of the hill, we pass Haldon Racecourse, which is proud to hold the title of highest racecourse in the land. Then we have a delightful separated dual carriageway twisting up and down, left and right through the forest, taking us to our exit point of Buckfastleigh on the edge of Dartmoor. We filter off that long road and head towards the coast and – as quietly as possible, arrive in the deserted, orange bathed streets of Totnes on the river Dart and weave our way through the ancient narrow streets that I still consider home.

By the time we got to Totnes, I knew why I was still driving the GTE. It was part of my life and would always remain so with all the memories plus, hopefully, many to come. More than that, I thought about the other cars around me at Rockingham. Given my time and money over again, would I have preferred any of those fine machines? I suppose one way to evaluate this is to take a look at the top cars in the Practical Classics top 100. Number one was the Morris Minor. I remember from my childhood how we used to load up Dad’s traveller for the annual pilgrimage to the folks in London (I wonder where FCO646D is now). The back seats were folded down, the car was loaded to the waist and my sister and I were placed on top of the luggage in blankets. We soon fell asleep. So, practical? Yes. Economical? Yes. But would I really enjoy the four-hour journey to Devon quite so much in one? No.

No surprise that the E type was up there at number two. Who can deny the beautiful styling and quality? The performance was remarkable for the time too (although I understand they went better than they stopped) but where to put the kids? And at a price that is literally an order of magnitude larger than an equivalent GTE, this is not everyday transport for many of us.

The Mini? Lets move on!

It is not until you get to number 7 that a serious contender comes forward in the form of the Rover P6. In V8 form this offers comfort, performance, style and enough room for the family with economy only slightly worse than the GTE but then wasn’t I looking for something rust proof in 1979? The GTE chassis has never seen any extra protection since it left the factory in 1977 and is now on its second trip around the clock. I wonder how a P6 body would have fared through 27 years.

As we pulled into my Mother’s driveway and finished unloading, I paused for a moment to look at the car. The exhausts were ‘pinging’ as they cooled as if the whole car was settling down after it exertion. The church clock struck 2am in the distance through the dark silence just as it had through the years of my childhood. I imagined I was the only one to hear it at such an hour and it felt like a personal welcome home. Totnes still feels like home after all these years and I was glad to be here but then, as I looked at the car, I also looked forward to the journey home.