Why the perfect winter car is a hot topic

I SHOULD go to London more than twice a year. Largely because if I did I’d quickly learn that - even in November – tube stations are no places for wearing a wax jacket.

It was slightly surreal wiping the sweat from my brow on the platform at Oxford Circus, contemplating as I waited for my connection to King’s Cross how it could be so hot and humid when I knew just thirty seconds upwards people were buttoning up their coats and popping up their brollies. Never at 8am on a November morning had I wished I’d been wearing shorts!

Sweltering tube stations aside, however, we as a species have got wearing the right clobber for the right conditions nailed. You don’t have to be Ray Mears to work out that wandering up Skiddaw on a snowy morning in a t-shirt isn’t a bright idea, in much the same way that disembarking from Ryanair’s finest at Barcelona is going to be jolly uncomfortable if you’re wearing a woolly hat and a scarf. The same, I’ve long reckoned, goes for cars.

That’s why I’m currently in the process of adding the four-wheeled equivalent of a wax jacket to my motoring wardrobe. For the first time in my motoring career I’ve ended up with the scenario where both my vehicles are what you could call summer cars; rear-wheel-drive two seater sports cars, which are about as suited to chilly commutes as sandals are. What I need, then, is a winter car.

A summer car and a winter car are much better than entrusting everything all year around to just one set of wheels, largely because you can afford to have something fine-tuned to each rather than one blunter instrument which isn’t really ideal for either.

My housemate reckons his Saab 9000 is the winter car, partly because it was developed in Sweden – where they know thing or two about cold mornings – and partly because it has a heater more powerful than Simon Cowell’s influence on The X Factor. Having driven it several time and realised it has to channel upwards of 200bhp onto winter’s slippery roads using its front wheels alone, I’d disagree.

The perfect winter car, I’d wager, would have to be four-wheel-drive to deal with all that treacherous tarmac, quick enough to get you to your destination before the sun sets at 4pm, comfortable enough to ease the winter blues, reliable enough not to let you down first thing on an icy morning AND equipped with a stupendously powerful heater.

In other words the Audi A4 - which means I’ve recommended a car I've never really had much time for. Maybe the heat on the tube’s been getting to me!

What car would Father Christmas drive?

AN AD in last week’s Southport Champion apparently solved a motoring mystery. When the job gets too tough for reindeer, Santa uses an Isuzu D-MAX!

Plugs for Japanese pick-up trucks aside, the question of what the world’s best known delivery man would opt for as his choice of wheels is a surprisingly tricky one to call. In fact, the topic occupied a surprising amount of time with my colleagues at the Classic Car Weekly Christmas dinner the other day. Yep, I know we should get out more.

Personally, I reckon it’s still open to debate. Largely because I doubt Father Christmas would use any form of motorised transport – not even something as surefooted and spacious as the aforementioned D-MAX – for the job of dispatching all the ponies and Sony Xbox Ones to all the boys and girls who’ve been nice and enough coal to heat Sheffield for a month to all the ones who’ve been naughty.

If Father Christmas actually issued Rudolph and his mates their P45s and did his rounds next Tuesday night with a car, said vehicle would have to have Antonov-rivalling levels of room inside for all the presents, and still somehow be light enough to park on a snowy roof without either crashing through the slate tiles onto the mince pies simmering below or sliding off altogether, falling into the street below and landing The Champion the festive scoop of the century. 

I reckon, boys and girls, that the prestigious job of delivering all the presents can only be done using a dozen reindeer and a sleigh endowed with a TARDIS-esque quality. Particularly because the only way I can think of him doing the job automotively depresses me. Father Christmas clattering up your driveway in a battered old Mercedes Sprinter would ruin the magic of Christmas!

If our bearded chum way up north does own a car, I reckon he’d use it for rather more mundane duties. Popping to the Lapland branch of ASDA, perhaps, or running the elves back from the pub on a Friday night.

I quite liked the idea of Father Christmas, if he’s anything like the grumpy Englishman portrayed in the 1991 cartoon, bobbing about in something like an old Triumph Herald, but it stands to reason that he both lives and works at either Lapland or the North Pole, both of which require the use of something a bit sturdier. Something which is comfy enough for a portly bloke who’s getting on a bit, but can still fight its way out of a snowdrift.

Therefore, after much deliberation, I’ve decided that Father Christmas is a Range Rover man. Merry Christmas!

Is it worth fitting winter tyres to your car?

MY EXTENDED thanks goes to the likes of MailOnline, The Daily Express and ITV News for all the “SNOW CHAOS” stories and messages not to travel unless absolutely essential over the past week. It meant all the motorways - which were covered with a light dusting of snow - were marvellously empty last weekend. Cheers!

Unless a freakishly early spring arrives between me writing these words and The Champion going to print, chances are it'll be a bit snowy where you live. Thing is, if you watched that cracking documentary Chris Packham did the other night about the winter of ‘63 you'll know this is girls' stuff compared to a real white-out, and that - in this part of Britain at least - the world didn't exactly grind to a halt enough to stop us all driving.

All of which brings me to a question I've spent the past three years trying to avoid answering. Is it worth fitting your pride and joy with winter tyres?

This debate's dusted down every time a snowflake so much as thinks of landing on the British road network, and like all great questions my own answer's a bit of a cop-out.... erm, it depends. It almost goes without saying that in these conditions winter tyres ARE safer, as evidenced by a brilliant clip on YouTube which involves a snowy bit of Swedish wilderness, two SEAT Leons, and some gung-ho Auto Express roadtesters. You can see where this one's going. By the time the one with winter tyres had stopped safely from 30mph, the one on ordinary rubber was still skidding at 25mph!

I've also had lots of press releases pointing out how brilliant winter tyres are - albeit ones signed off by Monsieur Michelin, Signor Pirelli and Herr Continental - and reckon that, if you drive a brand new motor, it's probably worth the outlay.

But when you lose your automotive cherry to a 30-year-old Mini with drum brakes you get used to driving something with the stopping capabilities of an ocean liner anyway, and when secondhand hatchbacks are your car currency the price you pay for having winter tyres is.... the price. To kit out my Rover 200 with some winter footwear would cost £250, and that's before fitting and balancing. A pricey prospect when the car itself cost £300.

Are winter tyres better than summer tyres in sort of weather? Without a shadow of doubt, but that wasn't the question. Are they worth fitting to your pride and joy? Well, it depends on what your pride and joy is.

If in doubt, buy a secondhand Land Rover.

A motoring idea you'll warm to in this winter weather

HERE'S an idea you'll warm to. Why don't we fit cars with proper boilers and thermostats?

T'was a cold and frosty morning when the thought struck me. Faced with needing to take a car rather than the bus into work, I unlocked the garage and started up a stone cold Mazda MX-5 which immediately fogged up the moment I dared to exhale breath while sat inside. I was one of the lucky ones; elsewhere, the good people of Southport were scraping the ice of their windscreens.

Here's the rub. Almost every car I've driven on a cold morning, even shiny brand new ones, still require the efforts of some cheap de-icer before you can set off, and then a good few minutes before the icy chill of winter leaves the interior. Nor can you do the old trick of warming the car up while you sit indoors with a cuppa - not only is it illegal, but you might as well stick a sign on your pride ‘n' joy with “STEAL ME” writ large all over it.

With the exception of a wonderful January weekend in Wales, when I donned gloves and a woolly hat so I could enjoy the crisp mountain air in the MX-5 with the roof down, driving first thing in the morning at this time of year is no fun. Unless of course, you run a recently-made Range Rover. A car which comes with a little gas heater and a time-adjustable thermostat, just like your house does.

In the same way I've always wondered why houses aren't fitted with electric windows, it perplexes me why proper thermostats which you can preset to come on when you want - which have been around for ages - don't come as standard on more cars. If you know you're going to setting off at eight every morning, wouldn't it be great to preset a proper heating system to come on fifteen minutes earlier, so your pride and joy is all toasty once you step inside and the engine isn't having to cough into life at minus four?

Don't get me wrong - there's all sorts of aftermarket preheating systems you can fit to your motor - but I'm just amazed the car industry at large didn't cotton onto the whole winter-is-cold thing years ago.

It's one motoring gadget you wouldn't give a frosty reception.

Will the winter weather bring woe to classic car owners?

NOBODY else at The Champion has written it yet so I thought I'd get the ball rolling - it's only 11 weeks ‘til Christmas!

Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you whether you think the Christmas rush arrives too early these days but I've put to readers of tomorrow's Champion an entirely different problem, which hits lots of car nuts at roughly the same time every year. ‘Tis the season to be asking.

Where do you stash your pride and joy over the winter?

If you own, say, a Honda Jazz you're probably going to be completely unmoved by the question, in which case you're more than welcome to flick forward a few pages and check out this week's sports news. Modern cars are built to cope with frost and ice and grit and all those other unbearably cold and corrosive things commonly found during winter, in which case you're not going to worry about leaving one on your driveway for the duration. Classic cars, though, are an entirely different rusty kettle of fish.

Leave anything made, say, by British Leyland out in the open for more than six months and it'll start rotting in places you wouldn't have thought rot was possible (and I know this from the joys of Mini ownership). If you own a car made before, ooh, the Eighties and don't want it to dissolve into an iron oxide heap before next spring, you'll be wanting somewhere warm and dry to keep it.

Luckily, I have a garage for my MG but there's plenty of people I know who don't or simply have too many old cars for the one lock up they own, which is where the headache begins. There are garages you can rent but they're usually one-off lock-ups, meaning it's difficult to keep the old cars you've accumulated in one, cheap and affordable space.

Nor am I calling for the sort of specialist storage sites you find advertised in the back of Classic and Sports Car, which are used largely by supercar owners who keep them wrapped in cotton wool for eye-wateringly expensive months at a time. If you own an old Ferrari this is all fine and dandy, but most of the enthusiasts I know don't and can't afford it.

No, what we need is somewhere that's basic and cheap but dry and secure, where you can store your classic car and know that it isn't rotting away in all weathers.

Who's with me?

Do you agree? Share your thoughts by sending an email to david.simister@hotmail.co.uk or call 07581 343476.

Land Rover vs council gritting teams

DON'T worry about winter getting a bit nasty this year. Providing you've got at least £19,775 to spare you'll be absolutely fine.

That's what Land Rover, Britain's longest established maker of off-roaders, reckoned in its latest full page advert in the nationals, which instead of a car showed shots of snowy scenes from earlier this year. The cost of staying on top of the next Big Freeze, the company reckons, is the entry-level price for the Defender. Convenient or what?

As a longtime lover of all things Land Rover I'd like to say I couldn't agree more; but unfortunately the chaps at the Solihull factory, I reckon, have got it wrong this time. You shouldn't need to use a Land Rover Defender to drive to work because the roads should have been gritted by your friendly, cash-strapped local council. It's a crazy idea, but it might just work.

Even when the roads were at their snowiest, slippiest point during last year's particularly cold snap, there was nothing a bit of carefully-used throttle and a dab of opposite lock steering couldn't solve. I actually developed my snow driving to the point where I was actually enjoyed the daily skid into work, but in most cases all but the quietest roads had actually been gritted long before I'd woken up each morning.

What's more, Lancashire County Council in particular have said they've learned their lessons from last year and are already prepared with a third more grit this time, so I suspect the need to pop out to your friendly local Land Rover showroom won't be quite as pressing as last winter.

Anyone who's seen any of the Land Rovers or Range Rovers I used to get ferried to school in will know I've nothing against them; they are charismatic, capable and genuinely useful things to have around, but chances are you'll only genuinely need one if you're venturing off the beaten track.

If you're not, I'm actually going to suggest you spend a small fraction of what a Defender costs by showing true grit....and buying grit instead.

The full Monte

THIS week I've come to a depressing conclusion. The great rallying legends that were Paddy Hopkirk, Timo Makinen and Rauno Aaltonen were all economical with the truth.

Anyone with a nerdier disposition and innate knowledge of how camshafts work will already know what these three chaps have in common; they all won the Monte Carlo Rally, and they all did it in a Mini. Unfortunately this fine pedigree in Europe's most famous rally might give you the impression that Minis are made for winter motoring. This is wrong.

Regular readers will already be bored with my ongoing infatuation with Britain's best-selling small car, and how I'm happy to forgive it no matter how many times its distributor/brake cylinder/steering (delete as appropriate) stops working.

I've also explained to my other half, who is German and therefore doesn't understand the point of owning something if it doesn't work, that inventing things but making it badly is somehow the British way, like eating fish fingers or secretly wondering why Brookside got cancelled.

It's a fantastic car, but it still seems impossibly far removed from the idea it could win a rally on the icy roads of Monte Carlo not once, but three times. I've no doubt it could handle the Col de Turini, but what good is that when you can't get the windows demisted?

Every morning I squint through the windows and see the Mini's been given the white roof treatment, but it's always layers of icy frost rather than the Mini Cooper upgrades I actually wanted. And even though I've invested in a new heating system, it's still no better than getting an asthmatic to blow through a straw.

By the time the windscreen's cleared up again, your times on a rally stage would be so bad you'd have been better off walking it, so I can only guess that the 60s stars did it using a blend of pace notes and balls.

I did want to borrow one of the original Mini Cooper S rally cars to prove this point, but as they're now worth around £100,000 I don't think I'll be finding out any time soon.

Paddy, Timo, and Ruano weren't liars then. They're legends because they probably couldn't see anything.