London to Brighton at 18mph: 60 miles in a 122-year-old car

While I’ve been to the finish before, I hadn’t appreciated the scale of it. There are lane closures in central London and on the approach to Brighton, one-way systems introduced on some South Downs inclines, and comprehensive marshalling throughout. Total spectators number tens of thousands.

A feature of early cars is how many different ways their makers found to do things before anyone settled on three pedals and a lever or two. I once raced against a car whose drive was engaged by pulling the entire back axle rearwards until it tensioned a drive belt.

The Albion is part-familiar, part-wacky. The engine’s a water-cooled flat twin, mounted north-south in the chassis with a chain driving the rear axle.

Other than a total-loss oil lubrication system and the fact that the water needs topping up every 15 miles, it’s not so outlandish.

But controls take a moment. It has an upright steering wheel – most dog carts had tillers – offset to the left of the driver.

There is a hand throttle, with a ratchet to stay its position, and two big levers next to each other. The left one’s a gearlever (second to neutral to first to reverse, with a couple of false neutrals thrown in).

There’s no synchro, of course, and straight-cut gears, so there will always be a graunch of some kind. It’s better on a closed throttle. The right-hand lever is a brake that pulls a shoe onto each rear wheel.

The foot pedal is the odd one. The first part of its movement disengages the clutch, but the rest of its travel begins to push a brake against the transmission.

In my early practice, it’s not wonderfully clear where one of those functions begins, or when the other does.

I’m worried that downhill one could try to downshift to first for some engine braking, but find oneself in a box of neutrals, with two overwhelmed brakes, and steering that feels nervy at 18mph on the flat.

Cropley tells me that the red flag act had a real effect on the advances of British car makers. Given more freedom, the French, Germans and Americans in particular started bounding ahead. And of cars ‘our’ age on the run that come past us, most are foreign-manufactured.

By contrast, the Albion really backs up its equine vibe by basically having defined speeds.

You can feather the throttle but most likely you will be driving at full whack in second, which eventually brings 18mph, or in first, which gives it the pace of a quick stroll, on the flat at least. They are like a horse’s canter or its walk.

London is where the Albion’s modest top speed is least problematic, because limits are 20mph and the city’s mostly flat.

It’s also a great buzz: leaving from Hyde Park, driving under Wellington Arch, past Buckingham Palace and along The Mall to emerge onto the public road at Trafalgar Square is the kind of thrill you can only get on the Veteran Car Run.

Past Downing Street, left across Westminster Bridge. What a hoot.

It doesn’t get any less enjoyable, even if, as you get further south, it gets hillier and hillier. Cropley’s prepped to jump out and walk if needs be.