John Simister

John ruminates on the satisfaction of a clean car

John reckons washing a car improves its performance.

Acar always runs better after it has been washed. Fact. It’s smoother, it’s faster and it rides better. The rattles diminish. Everything has improved. If you polish it as well, and you vacuum out the interior and run a damp chamois leather over the inside of the glass, it runs even better again. It’s true. How can it be true? Nothing has changed in any of the mechanical components. Well, during WWII, some photo-reconnaissance pilots used Spitfires that were stripped of paint and had the aluminium beneath polished. It reduced weight and, crucially, it reduced wind resistance because air could flow more easily over polished metal than over matt paintwork. So the Spitfires flew faster, important for a reconnaissance aircraft that needed to be out of there as soon as possible. So maybe polished paintwork makes for a faster, freer-running car. At normal road speeds? I think not. Clearly, then, it’s all in the mind.

Our mood has a very big influence on how we feel about a car. I know that after I’ve done a hard day’s work the car I drive home in often feels noisier, bumpier and less responsive than the one I drove that morning, even though it’s the same car. That’s because I’m tired, everything is a bit more of an effort and my irritation threshold is slightly lower. What was an enthusiastic exhaust burble this morning is now an annoying resonance, another assault on the senses.

All things bright and beautiful

But when we clean a car, we see its bodywork unblemished by dirt-streaks, mud-spatters and squashed insects. Its chrome is shiny, its wheels are free of black brake dust. We now see the car for what it is, and for what made us want it originally. It’s one reason (laziness is probably another, having other things to do a third) why I don’t clean my cars, be they old or modern, as often as some classic car owners do. That way, the contrast is greater after the cleaning, and the buzz I get from doing it is bigger. It’s a rediscovery.

When you see a clear expanse of shiny paintwork, or carpets devoid of detritus, or you peer through a crystal-clear windscreen, a kind of calmness descends. The distraction of visual clutter is gone and your mind relaxes. Overlaid on this is the satisfaction of a job well done, of caring for your car and making it better. That’s why you’re in a good mood and the car feels sweeter to drive. There may even be a smell element, the aroma of cleanliness left by wax polish and upholstery shampoo.

A similar effect happens after some mechanical maintenance or improvement, and not necessarily as a direct result of what you’ve been doing. You’re simply pleased with what you’ve achieved. Why else would my 1989 Eunos Roadster, featured previously in PC’S pages, sold in 2014 and reacquired a couple of months ago (it’s the first time I’ve owned the same car twice), run better after I’ve replaced its flexible brake hoses, changed its brake fluid and renewed its antifreeze?

Actually there might be a proper physical reason in this case. The brake pedal gained a firmer action and a shorter travel, with the remedial works making the little Mazda a snappier, more precise machine to drive all round, which in turn made me feel better about the whole car.

Running classic cars is all about emotions, moods and bonding with the machine, otherwise we wouldn’t have them. We think our cars respond to pampering and attention, like a pet, but really they’re only inanimate objects. Anything beyond that is entirely in our heads. But no less enjoyable for that.

‘When we clean a car, we see it for what it is, and for what made us want it’