2026 Land's End Trial

In the queue for Darracott

After the overheating and under bonnet fire on this year’s Exeter Trial, I set out to prevent any of that nonsense happening again. I fitted a new fan switch, a new temp gauge and sender and replaced any dodgy looking hoses. I used generic silicon ones wherever possible but some around the water pump on the Passat engine were bespoke and many branched like baby octopi. Finding the right ones took time and trial and error although I found AI helpful. Parts suppliers want to know my registration number as a starting point. I cut a long story short, I have European Article Numbers for them now, the 13-digit numerical code that accompanies a bar code.

I never found out why it overheated on the start line of Waterloo after queueing when the ground was frozen but there you and there it is. I can only assume that wise owl Simon Robson was right. It was one of those things.

The rear wheel bearing seals had sprung leaks as well, allowing oil to contaminate the rear brake linings. I put the best SKF wheel bearings in I could find in and replaced the shoes but noticed daylight coming through some of the rear suspension bushes. They were hanging!

The question then arose again – what had been the donor vehicle?

Wicked Uncle Adrian thought these bushes might be Land Rover but my new helpmate AI couldn’t find anything of the right dimensions until we broadened the search. Lower control arm bushes from a Vauxhall Corsa were close but they needed turning down a little before they’d fit with the help of Ade’s million-ton hydraulic press.

They're not sleeping before the start, they're pacing themselves

I also replaced the seal on then tyre inflator, packed a backup one in case it played up again and made sure we had a battery booster pack on board in case last year’s elusive non-starting problem came back.

Then poor Sally broke her right arm skiing. Fortunately, the French medics packed her into a marvellous Velcro sling thing for the rest of that holiday and the fracture clinic in Blighty gave her the all clear to navigate but recommended pain killers to taste and regular breaks – I mean rest stops. She was determined to come along on her first Land’s End Trial having been disappointed not to start last year and not to finish on two Exeters in succession.

To minimise any popping back through the carbs and sending another air filter to automotive Valhalla, I took the car to Mark Shillabear Developments in Launceston and he set it up on his rolling road. It felt so much smoother and stronger on the way home. Mark suggested some further improvements we could make, especially some intake trumpets inside the air filter.

The week before the event my 96 year-old mother had some serious health events but perked up under my sister’s care at home. Consequently, Sally and I were pleased to simply make the start at Bridgwater.

We passed through scrutineering and found our running mates, some of whom were asleep. We admired their quiet confidence.

We'd been forewarned about the wedding party beforehand but seeing them at the start was still surprising

In a state of excitement, we went outside to the Arkley-MG in plenty of time and noticed Adrian’s offside rear wheel was flat, so we dug him and Michael Brooks out of the clubhouse and they pumped up what was apparently a slow puncture. We set off behind them but before the Walfords Gibbet handbrake test Age stopped and we helped to change the wheel.

Felons Oak looks really rough in headlamps at night, principally because it is really rough. We had a restart here, along with most other car classes. Cunningly placed on the roughest part, it had all sorts of camber changes but my little car dug in and we crashed and banged up the section on 14psi. We had a pleasant drive to Barbrook for the weather was much better than forecast and tried 12psi for a successful restart on Beggars Roost.

What dark histories Walfords Gibbet, Felons Oak and Beggars Roost must have had before even the MCC found them out.

Riverton used to involve a tunnel under the North Devon Link Road but these days we approach it by a long off-road track through woodland. I remembered it as slippery so chose 12psi for the restart and we got away only to be perplexed by a sharp tee junction.  I guessed left and was right, if you get my meaning.

By now, Jill and Pat had gone on ahead and Age and Michael were some way behind us. Sally was doing remarkably well as a one-armed navigator. Our map reading lamp packed up from the start so she improvised with a head torch and checked off each route instruction left-handed. She wasn’t really able to bounce much because she couldn’t grip with her right hand and getting in and out took some time. I was hopping in and out to do tyre pressures but she was confined by her super sling and the ache in her arm never really went away.

Yollocombe special test was uphill so fumbling for reverse didn’t matter because I rolled back over Line B anyway. Our time was dignified, not spectacular.

There was a slight delay at Sutcombe and by now the sky was brightening and Sally’s job was about to get easier. We bumped over the potholes on the king’s highway (thanks for the warnings MCC!) and cleared the slippery restart after the ford at Sutcombe on 12psi. We also took full advantage of the tea and cake and Sally swapped broken bone stories with the caterers, one of whom had broken both wrists at once. Counting our blessings, proceeded to Woolley Holding Control where it was blowing in nasty.

At Woolley Holding Control, the weather deteriorated

Darracott also had a queue and the marshals held us back here as there was a pond of dirty water across the entrance track. The start line official enquired if I’d done it before. I said, “Yes, a long time ago,” and he replied that much of the steps and ruts had been filled in. When our turn came, we had such a lovely climb Sal was moved to draw smiley faces all over the route card. It was the sense of movement and tyres scrabbling for grip we liked as we swung through the bends on 12psi. Without a restart it was great fun.

The queue lengthened at Cutliffe Lane. A Marlin behind us had lost its starter so kept its engine running although bump starting a la Dave Middleditch would have been easy. We couldn’t hear much engine noise from across the valley and there was plenty of time to think about tyre pressures as rain set in. Cutliffe is rocky and muddy so I chose 12psi.

By now virtually every car was being turned back down the hill including some very competitive Class 5 Reliant Scimitars. The marshals were doing a very slick job of clearing the hill despite the failure rate. I knew it would be claggy and had successfully climbed Cutliffe Lane in the Arkley-MG before but although we carried good speed round the lower bend we slowed up to the A boards beyond the Class 8 restart box. Ashley Ruby on the restart was very complimentary about our effort though and the start line marshal said she thought we’d got out when we saw her again.

Joining the failure route for once, we started off well – helping some others get out of the valley – but then took a wrong turn. Fortunately, Sally soon realised what we’d done and guided our little convoy of followers back to the path of righteousness.

By Widemouth Bay route check, we were two hours late. We made a comfort stop at Widemouth and went on to Crackington, where Adrian and Michael followed us in. They’d cleared Cutliffe, although Adrian said he’d had to fight it all the way, it was that close. Behind them, was the course closing car. All the cars behind us at Widemouth Bay must have overtaken us during the pee break.

In front of us was a team of three BMW 1-series cars but they had no extra ground clearance and ordinary tyres that sounded like slicks even on wet tarmac. It’ll be interesting to see how these 1-series BeeEms can be developed from now on.

Adrian Booth caught us up at Crackington but, unfortunately, so did the course closing car.

As we waited by the river, a lone motorcyclist appeared. I wondered what troubles he’d had to face to be so late. We let him go in front but when it was our turn to do the restart my snap decision placed us in too much mud and we couldn’t get away on 14psi. Simon Riddle, who previously owned my car, was on the restart and advised us to take a run up and “Keep tight!”

Now he told us!

However, keeping right didn’t work for everyone. Calvin Moores in his Class 7 MG J2 kept right but slid down and left into the quagmire. Even he couldn’t get away then.

At Wilsey Down, we though we might be granted a short break with the course closing car breathing down our necks but we needed an hour to eat a very welcome breakfast. Fried bread was an especial treat, never mind the arteries.  

The route from there to Panters Bridge via Ruses Mill was not at all straightforward and the lone motorcyclist on his Suzuki 125 followed us. We let Joseph Harrison go ahead of us for the special test at Ruses Mill but he turned up behind us again at Panters Bridge. Despite our late running, there was still a queue here and I advise him to ask the marshals nicely if he could go up before the waiting cars and they agreed. I asked him why he was so late and he said the headwinds were so strong he could barely maintain 40 mph tops.

When I marshalled on Warleggan, it was much smoother. This was the year Cornwall reached the rugby final.

I didn’t hold up much hope of getting away from the restart on Warleggan. Sally picked up on my negative vibe and when we saw all the failures in the upper holding area wondered if the minimum limit of 10psi would let us get away. I’d noticed a slow puncture at Wilsey Down and considered changing a wheel when we’d been waiting at Panters Bridge but the problem was how long will we be waiting?

I chatted to Rex Ward who was driving the course closing car. I’d marshalled with him, his son and grandson on this year’s Lew Down Trial and we discussed the strange muddiness of Crackington that seems to occur every Easter. If I needed five minutes to change a wheel I hope he’d wait.

I pumped the tyre up to 10psi as we waited at the bridge but I still couldn’t find enough grip for the restart. Another previous owner of the Arkley-MG popped out of the ground at this point. Ray Goodwright said take a run up and keep right, repeating verbatim what Simon Riddle told us on Crackington. It worked but as we crashed over the rocks further up it was apparent that the tube had given up the ghost entirely and we struggled out on the wheel rim. Not only was the tyre and tube ruined but so was the wheel rim.

The white MG Midget ahead of us had suffered two punctures on the same section and as we changed tyres, Adrian and Michael emerged behind us a little shaken up but still with air in their Geolanders.

On the drive to Eddy’s Branch Line, I reflected on the sections we’d completed and failed. I felt I was abusing my little car too much on sections like Warleggan. Darracott was rough but I didn’t feel I had to over drive my car to climb it. We had grip enough there. We might have climbed out of Cutliffe Lane if the rain hadn’t come but if wishes were killer watts, the power would corrupt us absolutely.

Although smoother when I marshalled on Warleggan the tractor still got stuck though.

Warleggan, however, has become extremely rough since I marshalled on it in the last century. I don’t enjoy driving it.

Sally, however, was full of admiration for my driving out of Warleggan on a bare rim.

This wheel got us out of Warleggan but died in the struggle

The thing is, my poor car gets so battered I’ve had to mend it a lot. My other projects are falling behind so I want to avoid breaking the Arkley-MG where I can. I’ve bent the axle twice and had to replace the diff once. I could skip the worst hills but that doesn’t feel like I’m getting the full benefit of my entry fee. I am in the trial for the fun, not the ornaments, and don’t want to cause problems for the hard-pressed marshals by breaking down.

I also considered skipping Eddy’s Branch Line to get ahead of the BMW Boys whose cars didn’t have much grip or ground clearance and were only likely to delay us further. By now, we were well over two hours late already.

Eddy’s Branch Line is now a section of two halves. The muddier first one has a tricky start with a bend on it and then a very tight corner over the old railway bridge. Since the Arkley-MG is small and chugs nicely at low revs taking that corner was no problem.

The second half ended a deviation to the left of a rutted track with a restart for us. I stayed low as low in the box as I dared and was delighted to feel our little car dig in and climb. We couldn’t see where we were going but there was no pesky tight corner afterwards and we got out okay.

Feeling much happier, the portaloo at Perranporth control shook as I relieved myself but it was the weather. Honest. The forecast had predicted 40 mph winds but they were drying winds.

One advantage of being late was that there were no queues. As I let my tyres down for Bluehills 1, Sally exchanged stories with Ian Moss about life in French Lytchett since she grew up there. Once our tyres were at 12psi, we were off.

Previous experience – and Binky’s good advice – told me to keep low in the restart box and steer down the hill to use any gravity to our advantage. The track is narrow and it feels counter intuitive to go the opposite way to the following sharp bend onto the tarmac but this year everything worked. The wheels began to spin but they warmed up on the cobbles and we came out nicely and stopped in the stop box before being allowed to ascend to Blue Hills 2, which was rocky but not as damaging as Warleggan. Our restart was the higher one this year, just after the sharp left hander. Last year, this had some very deep ruts that stopped many cars getting away. I stopped low and, once I’d found first, pulled away gently with what felt like little wheel spin. It was a very short restart box, though, and cunningly placed just before the steepest part of the climb. We wriggled up and stopped in front of Andrew Rippon who was in charge of the section end.

In this manner we finished on a high. The whole atmosphere at Blue Hills has to be experienced to be believed. It is obvious why many Class O competitors decide to try this final legendary hill.

If I do try Class O, I will, too.

This feeling of being part of something large and very special was heightened as we came through St Agnes. Some women came out of a pub and saw Sally in the Arkley-MG, obviously enjoying herself. They hailed her and as banter ensued who should come out of the pub behind them but none other than that naked-calendarist himself, Clive Kalber! I was very pleased to see him again (clothed) and could boast of climbing both Blue Hills 1 & 2 with appropriate victory vees and other hand gestures.

When we signed off at The Inn For All Seasons, the sense of occasion remained. The car park was full of muddy cars. Happy smiley faces abounded. Tales in the bar flowed.

Jill and Pat climbed everything but Cutliffe and Crackington and Adrian and Michael put in for a Silver after griding to a halt in the mud on Crackington.

Ditchy Dave's doughty Dutton

We had a drink with Dave Middleditch who was kicking himself for not clearing the restart on Eddy’s Branch Line 2 (somebody needs to come up with a better name for this section). He’d kept his tyres pumped up to maintain ground clearance for, like our car, his Dutton can be something of a diff dragger.

We asked him what he thought of Warleggan and he said that was where the top Class 7 crews were sorted out from the also-rans.

Garrulous Dave bought us a round, though, and Sally played her Gloucestershire card on him again.

Dave also likes to go high on restarts, especially Tillerton Steep. He told me how to do it and it sounds great in theory.

He also mentioned the gentlemen’s conveniences which, he said, were historic and things of beauty. I had to see them and agree with him. They were rather like stepping back in time. As I was washing my hands someone else came in with a Jack Russell. “Look out,” he said, “he’s got a thing about hand dryers!” Too late. I switched it on and his dog went mental, on hindlegs trying to get into the hand dryer while his owner tried to keep his aim true.

Sally did very well despite her injuries!

Reluctantly, we pulled ourselves away from Dave and his hardcore drinking buddies. I think a post-event get together of everyone while we are in the same place is a great idea but those we spoke to were so tired they just wanted to sleep. Maybe a supper somewhere after a nap?

Anyway, Dave and the Fitzgerald boys went on the prowl that night and found live music in downtown Redruth.

My car remains in one piece and I hope to use it again without breaking it. That might mean not doing a conventional Exeter or Land’s End although I would like another crack at Simms! By then, Sally would be on board and fully recovered from her injuries.