The Man in the White Suit: The Stig, Le Mans, the Fast Lane and Me by Ben Collins

Author:Ben Collins [Collins, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Television, Automobile racing drivers, Performing Arts, Sports & Recreation, Sports, Television personalities, Personal Memoirs, Great Britain, Entertainment & Performing Arts, Biography & Autobiography, Automobile racing, General, Motor Sports, Biography
ISBN: 9780007331680
Publisher: Harpercollins Uk
Published: 2010-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Taking the Rough with the Smooth

The reason Top Gear felt so exciting and personal to me was because the camera crews gave their al to capturing every moment.

It required something special not to tear yourself away from the monocle as some lunatic headed towards your kneecaps at ramming speed. Most mortals would be running for cover or asking the director to leave the rig unmanned. TG crews stayed put, because they could pul the image into crisper focus – and the results were there for al to see. We built up a high level of trust and I never felt complacent about the risks they took to get the perfect shot.

On Series 6 of TG the presenters splashed out on three dreadful coupés for less than £1500 a throw. I went to the alpine handling track at Mil brook to test their suspension and handling flaws. The Hil Route was soaking wet, and encompassed every kind of treacherous bend. The fastest machine around a closed loop would be deemed the winner.

The three musketeers duly arrived with three old heaps. Jeremy had a Mitsubishi Starion, James a Jaguar XJS and Richard a BMW 635. I made a cursory inspection of them al . Judging by the amount of rust and gaffer tape not quite holding them together, I reckoned I had a one in six chance of spearing off. I passed this on to the crew: ‘If it sounds or looks wrong, start running.’

James’s XJS was an utter shed. It was al I could do to hold it in a gear and count the minutes as she struggled to make it up the hil . Gravity kindly guided it down the other side.

Clarkson’s clapped-out bal of metal was the fastest and boasted a vague semblance of handling.

Hammond’s BMW was a mean old dog that stil liked to bite. It was the most powerful of the three, but 300kg heavier and designed back in the days before ABS braking systems. Time had not been kind to it in other ways; she was inclined to turn right even when you spun the steering left.

Mil brook boasted a famous jump where you went airborne and landed at a sharp left-hander. We had a camera located directly ahead, tucked behind the barriers. The man operating it normal y worked at Dunsfold, so a location shoot was new territory. He was also pushing seventeen stone.

With the presenters in eager anticipation I wiped the condensation from inside my visor, took the cue to go over the radio and sped up the hil . The BM had the sweet cocktail scent of old air fresheners and wal owed like a Cross-Channel ferry. The engine’s rattle suggested the ignition timing was counting it down to oblivion. I arrived at the presenters’ viewpoint, hit the brakes and nearly joined them when the BM wobbled into its suspension and locked a rear wheel. Clarkson yel ed, ‘Run for your lives!’

I turned down the hil and nailed the throttle. As I powered up the jump the BM lurched into the air and started to turn right before I’d even landed.

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