OCTANE CARS
A literary trip in a Ford Mustang
I SIGNED OFF last month’s
Octane Cars with the hope that all the road salt remaining from our recent (and elongated) winter would have disappeared. But who could have guessed that a fortnight later we’d be basking in temperatures in the mid-20s Celsius?
I try not to be paranoid about using old cars in bad weather but, until three years ago, the Mustang had lived all its life in California, so it has absolutely zilch in the way of rust protection – unless you count the flaking underseal in the wheelarches, which is now a perfect water trap.
Therefore, the arrival of a dry spell was perfectly timed, because it meant I could give the ’Stang a worry-free shakedown run on a road trip to the rock ’n’ roll destination of, er, Hay-on-Wye in mid-Wales. Over the course of three days my partner Paula and I put more miles on the car than the previous owner had managed in three years. Amazingly, they were trouble-free miles, too, discounting the minor glitch of the V8’s fan blades chomping their way through the radiator expansion tank pipe that had come adrift. A couple of seconds’ trimming with my trusty Leatherman sorted that.
This was the Mustang’s first drive of any length since its purchase in early February. I knew then that some areas needed attention – in particular the suspension, because there was noticeable wander at speed. It’s not true that ‘they were always like that’ and so I booked the car in with Modurstang in
Oxfordshire (www.modurstang. co.uk) before I’d even collected it from the owner. One week and a thousand pounds later, the car was transformed with all-new bushes at the front, plus some other remedial work – new fuel lines, an engine mount and so on – and it now tracks straight and true.
In fact, it drives very well overall, though the combination of feather-light power steering with unassisted drum brakes requires an interesting mental juggling act between being super-delicate with steering inputs and brutally forceful in applying the brakes. I found out that the drums do work, however, when another driver tried changing lanes on a dual-carriageway without checking his mirrors first; I was quite impressed that I managed to lock the front wheels.
The Mustang’s transatlantic exoticism drew a lot of attention on our Welsh trip, so it was ironic to spot a mint Bullitt-rep fastback (below) parked in a village just three miles from home. I still prefer the earlier 1964-66 versions, however, and if you agree with me and fancy one of your own, then I would thoroughly recommend the guy who sold me my car, Matthew de Leysin, who has a couple of really tasty examples on the way to the UK – check out midland-mustangs.co.uk.
As I told Paula when she complained (jokingly, I’m sure) about being cold, after I’d suggested we drive with the side windows down for the full pillarless effect on a beautifully sunny day… ‘No, darling, you’re not cold – but you are cool.’