From the Rolls-Royce experimental archive: a quarter of a million communications from Rolls-Royce, 1906 to 1960's. Documents from the Sir Henry Royce Memorial Foundation (SHRMF).
Article from 'The Autocar' magazine describing a road trip through the French Alps in a Lagonda car.
| Identifier | ExFiles\Box 128\3\ scan0009 | |
| Date | 16th December 1938 | |
| 1136 The Autocar December 16th, 1938. BUSMAN'S HOLIDAY (CONTINUED) Lagonda in the French capital. Here we set forth on our 1,000 miles run to the south via the High Alps. At the cartwheel at Fontainebleau—from which hub one radiates to all the four corners of France—we took the right spoke to Avallon. The Lagonda by this time was properly warmed up and travelling well, with the needle fixed near the 90 mark mile after mile. A few “ centuries ” were scored here and there. The omens for the mechanical success of our trip were certainly encouraging. At Avallon we halted. To test a pet theory, I immediately applied the pressure gauge to the tyres on this sweltering day of very high speeds to prove that tyre pressures can and do increase 25 per cent. under such conditions. The luncheon-room was long, low and cool and the company heavily napkinned. Conversation was suitably hushed as the Paté Maison was wheeled round in all its crusty glory, and B. (who, while an admitted gourmet, is yet the greediest man on earth) sighed and fidgeted until it came to his turn. Level-crossing Technique One could dilate lengthily on the ever-increasing loveliness of the landscape as one travels farther and farther south—the wide plains of the Côte d'Or, its old-world villages, until at length one joins the Saône at Châlons and the beginning of the country leading up to the foothills of the great Alps. What intrigued me particularly was the way in which the car dealt with railway crossings. First we tackled them at the usual 20 m.p.h. Their bumpiness failing to register any corresponding protest from the springs, the speed was increased to 30, and then taken to 40 m.p.h., until one extra bumpy crossing taken at nearly 50 did at last bring home the hard fact that crossings are still not quite the billiard tables they appeared to be. Of the steering, now lighter than formerly, due to reduced gearing, one can say that it seems to get better the faster one travels. At Tournus we veered left for Bourg and were now aiming for Annecy and the beautiful Imperial Hotel du Lac —a spot of enchanting beauty and equally marvellous creature comfort. The climbing soon began, and on the silent third we were taking the hairpin bends with that rhythm and constancy of engine note to which we were soon to become gratefully accustomed. At the Imperial the manager turned out to greet us, and, although it was very late, a dinner fit for princes was put before us. After a night at the Imperial—with a full moon illuminating Lac Annecy unforgettably—we joined up in dressing gowns for coffee on the balcony. Moments such as these are worth some record. One tastes those croissants and that cherry jam, the piping coffee, and that fat cigarette long years after so many more gallons of coffee have gone their way and the smoke of a thousand other cigarettes has wafted heavenwards and been seen no more. Along the beautiful lakeside to Talloires and anon Albertville, we next made Bourg-St.{Capt. P. R. Strong} Maurice, on the Franco-Italian border. The place was full of officers on the great French Alpine manoeuvres, and a fine, bearded lot they were. These Frenchmen, in all the ungartered négligé which French Army regulations seem to encourage, were the readiest crew of soldier-alpineers one could wish to see. The great Col d'Iseran, longest and highest and newest in Europe, begins in a few miles. The Pass is thirteen miles long, with a good surface most of the way and well-engineered bends. Its approaches through the Val d'Isère are exceedingly pretty, as is the whole of the Haute Savoie. Climbing conditions were perfect—a light breeze, not too much glare, and excellent visibility. The gradients do not vary much from the usual 1 in 10. One starts, therefore, with a technique after the first few turns which holds good all the way up. The ascent is a delight for those who have at their disposal, as we had, practically unlimited power, beautifully accurate steering and firm, controlled suspension. The melody of the engine note, as it rose and fell never more than a semi-tone round bend after bend, the stops for photographs, during which the engine caught its breath, so to speak, and the final halt 9,000ft. above sea-level will not be easily forgotten. A short halt at the chalet at the summit, and we were tackling the trying and only partially made-up descent towards Lanslebourg. Here the Lagonda (W. at the wheel) swept down on to the bends like an eagle, drawing up just precisely in time on the Lockheeds. Mountain Climbing in the Dark In the long valley we gave the car its head, and with the engine cooled down by the long descent skimmed along at an easy 90 m.p.h. mile after mile. It was dusk by the time we reached St.{Capt. P. R. Strong} Michel du Maurienne at the foot of the Col du Galibier, where one veers abruptly left over the bridge and begins the second loveliest mountain pass in France. We climbed, in the cool of the evening, even better than on the Col d'Iseran. There were mountain hamlets, perched at 5,000ft., twinkling like stars at each other from opposite mountain sides, and the call of the night birds which flew across the car time and time again. Half-way to the summit at Le Verney we again encountered the French Army—this time at play—the procession filling the entire road. In the distance all the drums and fifes in France were beating and wailing as, in a cloud of dust and lit by torches and Chinese lanterns carried by an entire village, a battalion of Alpine troops came into view. It was half an hour before we switched on the head lights again and began the second phase of the great Galibier. In a mile or so the going became really rough. Great furrows and boulders abounded everywhere, and it was often impossible in the long beams of the head lights to disentangle the road from the mountain side. The road is, of course, unfenced, and often hazardous in the extreme. Having threaded through the quarter-mile tunnel at the summit (8,400ft.), we began the descent to our night’s destination at the P.L.M. chalet at Les A 24 [Image Caption] Mountain climbers, by man power and horse power, meet in the Val d'Isère. | ||