Jumping ship…

Posted on September 7th, 2007 in Driving Emotion,Holden,Makes & Models,Opinion by Julian Edgar

epica.jpgAs we all know, successive models of the one car tend to get larger.

A Corolla is now bigger than the original Crown; the new-age Mini is vastly bigger than the original; the current VE Commodore is very much larger than the first VB model.

Bigger is apparently better, until the size has grown so much that there’s a created place for a new, smaller model – like in the Corolla’s case, the Echo and then the Yaris. (Or in the Honda Civic’s case, the Jazz – there are many examples of the phenomenon.)

But the Holden Commodore has proved rather problematic. The newer, smaller models designed to slot in where the Commodore once was have not been very successful – the Vectra being the expensive case in point. So now we have the much cheaper Epica, which in terms of cars like the original sized VB-VL model Commodores, is actually large indeed. (But despite its size, it’s still smaller than the current VE Commodore…)

So what does it take for a long-time Commodore owner to finally jump ship? You know, the older person who has driven Commodore models continuously since their 1978 release? (For Commodores and Falcons, it wouldn’t surprise me if people in the ‘have-always-driven-them’ category make up half of the current private buyers.)

Do these people just religiously follow the upgrading in size, the upgrading in power, and the upgrading in weight? Or at some point, perhaps now with children having left the nest, do they say to themselves that the new iteration of the model simply doesn’t suit, and it’s time to get a car that isn’t smaller than their current model – it just isn’t yet again bigger. To step out of a VZ Commodore, not into a VE but into an Epica, for example.

So how good a driver are you?

Posted on September 4th, 2007 in Opinion by Julian Edgar

gear-knob.jpgPerhaps driving self-evaluation is like social class.

How? Well, whenever surveys are taken that asks people to list what social class they belong to (ie lower, middle or upper), the vast majority of people put themselves into the category of ‘middle’. And the interesting thing: there’s no correlation between a self-belief in belonging to a middle class and income. People others might call impoverished still think they belong to the middle class; many of those anyone else would call wealthy also think they belong to a middle class.

In the same way, an awful lot of people believe themselves to be good drivers. Or at least, well above average.

In fact, you need only read web discussion groups to see people, either explicitly or implicitly, boasting about their incredible prowess. Slippery roads, powerful engines and rear wheel drive without traction control on public roads? Ahhh, that’s just fun. Cars that are twitchy and unforgiving at the limit? That’s why you need real drivers, not these pathetic attempts who prefer front wheel drive and are good for driving only shopping trolleys.

Over the years I have ridden with quite a few excellent drivers, including former Australian open wheel and rally champions. I have also ridden with drivers who are very good completely away from motorsport: one in particular who was always, in my opinion, extremely unlikely to have a crash in an urban environment as he was always so very watchful.

But there’s one thing about good drivers that is universal. Firstly, they never ever say that they are good drivers. Why? Because they’re always so well aware of their deficiencies. Secondly, they want in their cars predictability, consistency and communication. Someone who finds a challenging car fantastic fun in difficult conditions, and who tells everyone about it, is very likely just a wanker.

I think that it’s very important when evaluating your own driving that:

1) You never denigrate those who confess to being less than excellent in their driving skills. Instead, this self-analysis is to be applauded.

2) You constantly evaluate your own driving standard – taking the role of a make-believe critical passenger, if you like.

3) If you ever get a chance to, go for a drive with a really brilliant driver. It’s a reality check second to none.