Motoring

Alan Judd

It’s AA renewal time again, which entails a routine ritual. Some years ago, I noticed the renewal fee quoted was significantly more than the fee offered to new joiners. I rang and told them I was leaving, either to rejoin or defect to the RAC.

‘You can pay less if you like,’ they said. I did like, got a substantial reduction and was further advised to ring every year and ask for another.

This silly business began when the AA ceased to be a mutual aid society run solely for the benefit of members and was taken over by people whose aim is to make a profit. I’ve no argument against profit-making – there’d be no taxes for schoolsanospitals without it – but I do think loyalty of 50 years plus, as in my case, should be better rewarded.

Renewal fee this time was quoted as £358.52 for the full works – recovery, Home Start etc plus family membership for three. I made the usual call and was told that, if I agreed to a fixed fee for this year and next, I could pay £90 less, if I liked. I liked.

Despite doing more miles, I call the AA less often now than in my first years of motoring, when the old bangers I drove broke down more frequently. Usually it was failure to start or failed components such as wiper motors or water pumps. Or, in the case of the only Mini I owned, going through puddles, which splashed water onto the plugs and distributor.

But it wasn’t always the car’s fault. In those days, I sometimes bought only a gallon, or even half a gallon, of petrol at a time. Embarrassingly, at 5.15pm one Wednesday, my 1955 Ford Popular ran out in London’s Blackwall Tunnel. The ensuing traffic jam made the radio news.

The average annual mileage now, according to the AA’S RAC competitor, is about 7,800. In 2002, it was about 9,200. The difference, they reckon, is due to the fact that there are now more cars per household. Diesel drivers generally cover about 10,100, petrol drivers 6,400 and company-car drivers around 18,000.

None of us can hold a candle to the late Irvin Gordon, the New York science teacher who died last November, having clocked up 3.2 million miles in his red 1966 Volvo P1800S. He bought it new one Friday in June and took it in for its first 1,500-mile service on the Monday. His daily commute was 125 miles. He maintained it meticulously, changing the oil every 3,500 miles, and twice had the engine stripped down only to find it wasn’t necessary. He did have to replace both gearbox oil seals and the synchro on third, but replaced the brake discs only once and the rear drums not at all.

According to my sub-11-plus calculations, he must have spent about 40 hours a week driving. Volvo gave him a new XC60 when he reached his three-millionth mile.

The easiest way to monitor your own mileage is via your MOT certificate. But you might discover more than you bargained for. I knew someone who took his wife’s car in for its MOT and noticed it had covered a mileage not remotely compatible with the life he thought she led, while he spent over 12 hours a day commuting and working. It turned out she was cruising the motorway network in order to keep appointments with a man – or men (it was never quite clear) – at various motels.

The lesson, I guess, is never to underestimate what your car says about you.