stewartwillsher
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- May 15, 2017
- Messages
- 1,111
- Reaction score
- 97
- Points
- 48
- Location
- Western Spain and Costa de la Luz
I suppose this is sort of like an obituary; although the object lives on, to me it is no more, late, history, ....
I speak of my dearly departed Zero, which has shuffled off, possibly, to be abused by its new owner.
A sad day.
I owned it for over seven years, it having been bespoke built at the factory of Great British Sportscars, near Nottingham.
The only car I have actually specified and had made for me, and how many can say similar, I wonder.
After achieving registration in the UK, I collected it and brought it to Spain.
The process of matriculation (registration) here took about a year with great trauma and misleading help/advice from self-proclaimed experts.
Vehicles without European Certificate of Conformance are alien and eschewed, in spite of having been registered in another EU country.
I even wrote to all the UK's MEPs, with those responding giving such a bewildering variety of twaddle, that I took a different route.
As an interim solution I put it on a temporary import plate.
Then a chap who imports mainly Yank second hand motors did the job, but I had to ship the Zero the width of Spain and back, to/from his place.
So, eventually, I had one of the quickest motors, road legal in Spain.
Note, I did not say fastest as there will be many supercars with a higher top speed, but the Zero with 175 bhp, weighing about 600 kilos, meant over 300 bhp per ton, so nought to 100kph in under five seconds.
Add to this the fully independent wishbone competition suspension, road race tyres and ventilated discs all round, and it can out perform most on the road on anything but Autovias (Motorways) or similar.
The balance and predictability of the chassis and centre of gravity, ensures that cornering and stopping are awesome and somewhat unbelievable.
It was bought/commissioned as a toy, a whim and extravagance with a windfall, so had no real practical use whatsoever.
When friends, relatives, or other visitors showed an interest and desired a run in it, I would take it up the mountain to a nearby village, or along the foothills here.
Needless to say they were impressed, and those I felt confident in, were given a drive themselves.
The upshot being that from new it has only covered a few hundred kilometers.
So, why did I sell it?
Well, whilst once in the driving seat, and the old instincts reawoken, I could give the inexperienced passenger a mild white knuckle experience, for a short duration; then on return, I would have to extricate the old body (mine) from the car.
Without hoist or assistance, not a nimble activity.
Then, I reluctantly admitted, not long after purchase, that the weather never, or rarely, seemed just right.
What! you might exclaim, in sunny Spain, surely the open top rocket was in its element.
You might think so, but, despite giving GBS extra instructions for cooling (large fan, oil cooler, top bonnet vents), the interior, in summer, whilst the motor showed no signs of overheating, for driver and passenger it was a bit like a pizza oven; sevenesque layout means the gearbox and engine snuggle up against thighs and legs separated by just a thin ally panel, and with a road temp up into the fifties Centigrade, summer runs were very short and hot, hot, hot.
I had experienced the pram-like weather gear of an original Lotus fifty years ago, and it was difficult to: erect, get in, get out, see anything except forward, so this time I ordered no hood or side screens.
For registration, wipers and washers were needed because of the presence of a screen.
Purely a technicality, and although I have a couple of times been caught out, trips in the rain not good.
In fact, with the power to weight ratio, the car is a handful with any dodgy road surface.
The odd days, spring and autumn, that conditions were good were few and far between, but great fun and worth having the car, just for those occasions.
Then of course, nearly every journey has an objective, most requiring some luggage space, and many involving more than just two bods.
And, of course, the opportunity to stretch its legs, on the Autovias, was frustrated, as you all must sympathise with, by cameras and radar watching for abuse of the one hundred and twenty kph limit; boring!
With other sensible wheels in the fleet, the Zero sat spurned and dejected, having a shoe box sized boot and two seats.
I suppose it could have just sat there and been as useful as a chocolate teapot, but my long established sporty motoring urges in the blood wanted something to satiate it more regularly.
My attention was drawn to the slightly more sedate world of coupes, like Alfas or Mercs, etc.
I also toyed with the idea of grabbing the past, with something like an old Jag; but I was hooked on the bells and whistles of modern motors like my 5008 has.
Then the lightbulb moment when I discovered the RCZ.
Need I say more? Nope.
The Zero is history, and an RCZ the future.
So I'll draw this obituary to a close with the thought of resurrection when I get my hands on one.
Watch this space ...
I speak of my dearly departed Zero, which has shuffled off, possibly, to be abused by its new owner.
A sad day.
I owned it for over seven years, it having been bespoke built at the factory of Great British Sportscars, near Nottingham.
The only car I have actually specified and had made for me, and how many can say similar, I wonder.
After achieving registration in the UK, I collected it and brought it to Spain.
The process of matriculation (registration) here took about a year with great trauma and misleading help/advice from self-proclaimed experts.
Vehicles without European Certificate of Conformance are alien and eschewed, in spite of having been registered in another EU country.
I even wrote to all the UK's MEPs, with those responding giving such a bewildering variety of twaddle, that I took a different route.
As an interim solution I put it on a temporary import plate.
Then a chap who imports mainly Yank second hand motors did the job, but I had to ship the Zero the width of Spain and back, to/from his place.
So, eventually, I had one of the quickest motors, road legal in Spain.
Note, I did not say fastest as there will be many supercars with a higher top speed, but the Zero with 175 bhp, weighing about 600 kilos, meant over 300 bhp per ton, so nought to 100kph in under five seconds.
Add to this the fully independent wishbone competition suspension, road race tyres and ventilated discs all round, and it can out perform most on the road on anything but Autovias (Motorways) or similar.
The balance and predictability of the chassis and centre of gravity, ensures that cornering and stopping are awesome and somewhat unbelievable.
It was bought/commissioned as a toy, a whim and extravagance with a windfall, so had no real practical use whatsoever.
When friends, relatives, or other visitors showed an interest and desired a run in it, I would take it up the mountain to a nearby village, or along the foothills here.
Needless to say they were impressed, and those I felt confident in, were given a drive themselves.
The upshot being that from new it has only covered a few hundred kilometers.
So, why did I sell it?
Well, whilst once in the driving seat, and the old instincts reawoken, I could give the inexperienced passenger a mild white knuckle experience, for a short duration; then on return, I would have to extricate the old body (mine) from the car.
Without hoist or assistance, not a nimble activity.
Then, I reluctantly admitted, not long after purchase, that the weather never, or rarely, seemed just right.
What! you might exclaim, in sunny Spain, surely the open top rocket was in its element.
You might think so, but, despite giving GBS extra instructions for cooling (large fan, oil cooler, top bonnet vents), the interior, in summer, whilst the motor showed no signs of overheating, for driver and passenger it was a bit like a pizza oven; sevenesque layout means the gearbox and engine snuggle up against thighs and legs separated by just a thin ally panel, and with a road temp up into the fifties Centigrade, summer runs were very short and hot, hot, hot.
I had experienced the pram-like weather gear of an original Lotus fifty years ago, and it was difficult to: erect, get in, get out, see anything except forward, so this time I ordered no hood or side screens.
For registration, wipers and washers were needed because of the presence of a screen.
Purely a technicality, and although I have a couple of times been caught out, trips in the rain not good.
In fact, with the power to weight ratio, the car is a handful with any dodgy road surface.
The odd days, spring and autumn, that conditions were good were few and far between, but great fun and worth having the car, just for those occasions.
Then of course, nearly every journey has an objective, most requiring some luggage space, and many involving more than just two bods.
And, of course, the opportunity to stretch its legs, on the Autovias, was frustrated, as you all must sympathise with, by cameras and radar watching for abuse of the one hundred and twenty kph limit; boring!
With other sensible wheels in the fleet, the Zero sat spurned and dejected, having a shoe box sized boot and two seats.
I suppose it could have just sat there and been as useful as a chocolate teapot, but my long established sporty motoring urges in the blood wanted something to satiate it more regularly.
My attention was drawn to the slightly more sedate world of coupes, like Alfas or Mercs, etc.
I also toyed with the idea of grabbing the past, with something like an old Jag; but I was hooked on the bells and whistles of modern motors like my 5008 has.
Then the lightbulb moment when I discovered the RCZ.
Need I say more? Nope.
The Zero is history, and an RCZ the future.
So I'll draw this obituary to a close with the thought of resurrection when I get my hands on one.
Watch this space ...
Attachments
-
readytogo.jpg
