A Funeral For An Engine
There’s nothing else in the world that quite defines the term “machine” as much as the internal combustion engine. It’s a complex web of finely crafted parts that all work together so seamlessly, each item as important as the next. If any one small component fails, the entire engine grinds to a halt. Engines are mechanical, scientific and calculated. Yet somehow, this myriad of metal is the soul of any vehicle. It’s the thing that gives a vehicle its purpose, and for want of a better expression, its heartbeat.
This brings me neatly onto my 1969 Rover P6. I could talk all day about the technical magnificence of the P6. From it being the first ever European Car of the Year to being the first British production car designed to run using a jet engine; the P6 was Britain’s answer to the Citroen DS. It was designed to be something that other manufacturers would aspire to compete with. It was the last true pedigree Rover design before British Leyland took over. But all of this is a footnote when I sit in mine and turn the key and listen to that magnificent V8 engine burble into life.
That is pretty much the main reason that I bought the car. I’ve had P6s in their four cylinder guise since I was 18 years old, and the 3500 V8 remained the pinnacle for me as a young man who could only dream of getting insured on one. When that day finally came, it really did feel like a true “pinch me” moment. In fact, to tell you the truth, it still does. The excitement of that V8 never really goes. I know whenever I climb into my P6, it’s going to put the biggest smile on my face…
That is, except, for on a freezing November day in 2023 when a compression test revealed that my mighty V8 was putting out about half the amount of compression that it should have. I had nothing to smile about when the findings were revealed. The readings were pretty consistent, which pointed to engine wear as opposed to mechanical failure. After all, when I thought about it, I’d put some 30,000 miles on that engine during my ownership, most of that towing a classic caravan. I’ve always looked after it as best as I can, but it’s never needed any serious work.
You see, my Rover has always been one thing - dependable. No matter now much it’s limping or injured, it *always* gets me home. It’s only ever twice been on a recovery truck in all those miles: Firstly, I bought the car with a known worn gearbox and my tight-fisted ex wouldn’t let me get it rebuilt. My P6 specialist told me not to take the car far, much less put a caravan on the back of it. Determined to get myself a rebuilt gearbox, I promptly hitched up a large classic caravan and drove off to Belgium and then down to south of Paris for two weeks and the gearbox still refused to die. Less than ten miles from home, I floored it up a big hill and finally managed to cook the gearbox… so I eventually was allowed to spend some money on it. The second time was even more silly. A horrible scraping noise lead me to believe that something was seriously wrong with the car. Long story short, it turned out to be a bump stop from a lorry that had wedged itself in the back of the rear wheel. During a relay recovery, I spotted it, removed it and still drove home! So all in all, this car has earned its reputation for being reliable.
It’s the car that’s taken me all over Europe. It’s the car which I was driving when I was on a Channel 4 programme about camping. It’s the car that ferried me to the shops during the lockdown. It’s the car that I drove to impress my now fiancée. It’s the car that I piled what I could into the back of to escape an abusive relationship, covering some 500 miles in one wintery January day to get home from France. It’s not just a machine, it’s part of the family. It’s always had my back and now I need to repay the favour.
You see, these aren’t mere machines. Cars can have so much soul and character. We shouldn’t get attached to these non-sentient objects, but we do. My car doesn’t even have a pet name or hasn’t even particularly got an amazing story that makes it special to me, but I just love it. That’s why, in 2024 it shall emerge stronger and better than ever. My story with this car is still being written, and the mighty V8 shall burble again.
Catch up with the Rover and the rest of my year with my 2023 summary here: