Gary Pusey

T he Enthusiast

A fettled Series I and a fallen tree means fun times for Gary

The 70th anniversary year got off to a good start for Toad (my Series I) and I, with a visit to the first 2018 Sunday Scramble at Bicester Heritage. A good turnout of Land Rovers and plenty of other classic cars to see, and a very good breakfast. Well worth a visit.

A fortnight later, I received a call from a friend to tell me he had a tree down. He and I have a well-proven plan that has been put into practice several times in recent years, which involves Toad, a couple of chainsaws, the hydraulic log-splitter, and a trailer. I have always wanted one of those mobile saw benches that are belt- driven off the PTO, and after every timber-cutting trip my interest in one is rekindled. Maybe this is the year I’ll finally find one.

I must say that I rather look forward to these ‘tree blown down’ telephone calls, and an enjoyable day or two always ensues. Lots of healthy exercise, builder’s tea and bacon butties and, of course, the log-store gets topped-up as well. And it’s also a great pleasure to be using the Series I for something practical and useful.

Toad is my second Series I. I bought my first in the early 1990s from David Bowyer; a 1954 86-inch Station Wagon known as Sybil. I can’t remember why David was selling it at the time, but I do remember that he wanted first refusal if I ever decided to part with it. It was a lot of fun, and we once took it on one of David’s three- day Secret Wales greenlaning jaunts as an interesting and extended way of getting from Somerset to the Billing Show. The only thing it wasn’t good at was long journeys on main roads, when I found it was just too slow. Nevertheless, it was perfect for local runs, a bit of laning and trips to the pub.

Eventually a house move, marriage and children meant that Sybil had to go and David bought the car back. It’s since been expertly restored by its current owner Nick Parr, and is a regular on the show scene. Every time I see it, all the fond memories come flooding back, and it never seemed quite right not to have a Series vehicle in the garage. In the meantime I’d decided that if I ever had one again, it would have to be a very early 80-inch.

I’d looked at a few over the intervening years and been tempted, but never quite managed to take the plunge. A few years ago, with values starting to move upwards at an alarming rate, I decided that if I didn’t pull my finger out the cars could well get to the point where they were out of reach.

I ran through the various options: a restoration project or an original and unmolested car; something shiny or something wellpatinated? I was also wondering whether to go for a vehicle that could never be original again, which would provide me with a blank canvas in terms of an engine, bearing in mind that I’d like a bit more on the performance front.

As my deliberations continued, Julian Shoolheifer put his supercharged 80-inch up for sale and this seemed like the ideal answer. Plus it was a 1949 vehicle, had the benefit of being unique and, following Julian’s inventiveness and patient fettling, was on the button and ready to go.

When Julian bought it in 2009 it had already been dismantled for parts by a dealer and the original engine was long gone, although the chassis was saveable. What finally emerged from the workshop three years later was a fascinating piece of pure theatre. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.

Once upon a time there was a low-volume carmaker named Allard, founded in 1945 by Sydney Allard. For the next 12 or 13 years, he built a range of sports cars that were typically powered by big American V8s. He later became the distributor for the Shorrock supercharger and offered a range of conversion packages long before blowers and turbochargers became mainstream.

So far so true, but Julian then invented a mythical, hard-working Allard foreman who had to drive to rallies and race meetings up and down the country, supporting the firm’s customers in their Shorrocksupercharged saloons. Fed up with the long drives in his Series I hack, the foreman burnt the midnight oil and fitted a supercharger to his 80-inch to allow him to get to the meetings a bit quicker. And so impressed was Sydney that he apparently insisted the Land Rover should be painted with the company’s logo.

Julian fitted a 2.0-litre Rover car engine and a supercharger, and obtained permission from Sydney’s son, Alan, to have the car sign-written, and so fiction reinvented itself as a kind of theatrical reality. The finished car was then distressed, as the antique dealers say, and given a rather care-worn appearance. Oh, and a boost gauge from a Spitfire!

Purists probably hate it, but it is an accomplished feat of DIY engineering and development, goes quite fast without having lost its ability to potter about, drive off-road, bring the logs home and, most importantly, it is a lot of fun!

And why is it called Toad, I hear you ask? That will be the little mascot that Julian bolted to the bonnet, although he thinks it’s a frog.

“Purists probably hate it, but it is an accomplished feat of DIY engineering and development”