From top: The fire-prone Stanley Steamer, later redated to 1905; I first rode to Brighton in this 1904 Ford; I enjoyed several Runs in this 1904 Peugeot; end of a successful Run in my 1903 6-hp De Dion Bouton
For years I’ d nurtured the ambition of owning a Brighton Runner of my own, and in 1989 a lucky chance enabled me to buy an unrestored De Dion Bouton, date not guaranteed. Having done my homework, I knew that my acquisition was a 1903 6-hp“ Populaire”, but it wasn’ t until I began to clean it that I realised how basically original it was. Followed a year of early mornings and late nights, with old shelves and cupboards ousted in the restoration of our Victorian house providing period-perfect panels to restore the De Dion’ s bodywork.
Inevitably, the rebuild became a close-run thing; the first serious test run for the car was the short drive to the MOT station the day before the Brighton Run. Fortunately, the car got there without a hint of trouble and passed its MOT. On the way home I licensed the De Dion, and didn’ t touch it again until we unloaded it near Hyde Park Corner early the following morning.
I’ d decided to make the Run solo in case the weight of a passenger might overload the untried mechanism, but everything seemed to be working correctly – until I felt the vibrations from the singlecylinder engine increase …
I raised the bonnet to see the single cylinder gently moving up and down. Its locating nuts had loosened off with the constant vibration, so I just tightened them up, closed the bonnet and carried on. You get used to quirky things like that with veteran cars …
Six-and-a-half hours after leaving Hyde Park, the De Dion rolled over the finishing line to earn its first finisher’ s medal“ for punctual arrival at Brighton” – the only reward for sixty of the most gruelling miles in the motoring calendar.
I enjoyed nine Brighton Runs with the De Dion before I retired from driving to become commentator at the Crawley halfway stage. Most dramatic Run was 1999, the year of the wooden splint … The car had been running exceptionally well when we pulled in to the marshalling point at Cuckfield Golf Club. Horrified, I saw that the offside front dumb iron resembled an over-ripe banana; it had developed an alarming split...
The car was going so well and we were so close to Brighton that an emergency repair might let us coax it to the finish. A length of firewood from the Golf Club’ s wood store was wired into place between dumb iron and spring and, fingers mentally crossed, we set off cautiously for Brighton.
I watched that dumb iron out of the corner of my eye all the way to Madeira Drive, but the timber chock never moved, though it did restrict the steering lock a bit.
It was obviously one of the year’ s better get-youthere stories, for artist Basil Smith immortalised it for the following year’ s Brighton Run programme!-
24 The London to Brighton Veteran Car Run