Month: February 2003

Smart are bringing out a roadster and coupé later this year. By the time it’s out, my Mini Cooper will be two years old, and I had wondered about doing the trade-in thing – the Mini is holding its value astonishingly well at the moment, so it might make no less sense than any other plan.

But today, I discover that the smart Roadster will cost £13,495, the Coupé £14,495. Add in a few options, and… but… that’s more than a Cooper S would be.

Bang goes that plan, then.

Mark Pilgrim writes a personal summary on the currently-simmering existential blog debate. Just what are we all doing, spilling our guts out in public like this? Does anyone really care? Much has been written, and Mark’s piece doesn’t try to be an overview, but he does a reasonable job of that on his way to something else.

Meanwhile, I’m fascinated that thus far, I’ve not seen anyone share my own rationale. I blog for the same reason I take photographs; not because anyone else might be interested in the results, but because I’m interested in the process. I carry a stills camera everywhere, and that simple act makes me look for images I might wish to remember. I like looking at the world that way.

I write this blog because I enjoy trying to condense thoughts into a few brief phrases. I watch myself spot suitable stories, then edit and re-edit as I blunder around seeking the optimum combination of brevity, clarity, and style. I have no success criteria; the process is the end in itself.

It matters not if nobody happens across this site; it’s intended to be written, not read. I make no apology for that.

Traction control rocks.

I’ve mostly been unconvinced by my Mini’s flashing little yellow light, in part because the stability and traction system driving it is one of the cheapo kind that’s linked only to the anti-lock brake sensors – it’s rather like the inverse of anti-lock, I suppose. Also, it can’t work until the wheels are actually moving, so it doesn’t help when pulling away on slippery surfaces. Oh, and there’s enough rubber, and insufficient torque, that it’s normally only possible to trigger the system by driving like a complete hooligan. Which I tend not to do.

Driving on snow, however, it turns out to be well worth the modest investment. It cannot – and indeed, should not – make one forget about the slippery stuff, and the tail still wags away when invited. But somehow, the car manages to head solidly in the direction you point the front wheels, the little yellow light flashing with manic joy as it finally gets to do something. It’s a slightly disconcerting experience, in that (if you’re a bit mad and there’s nothing around, including any ditches) you can simply nail the throttle and… not much happens. It happens to an accompaniment of weird slithering and thumpy juddering sounds, but it’s a damn sight less scary than the car swapping ends.

Best of all, the steering wheel completely fails to do the usual twisty writhing thing, since the wheels aren’t spinning. Couple that the steering being fairly weighty, and there’s nearly as much feel as in the old non-power steering Rover 213 I used to have. All in, the Mini feels like the safest thing I’ve driven on snow. There’s still fun to be had with a prod of the right foot, but more importantly it’s easy to back out, when you realise what a bad idea that is. Or when a townie nutter in a Discovery thinks ‘4WD’ means ‘indestructible,’ and rounds the corner ahead at forty, sideways.

Panic’s Steven Frank says pretty much exactly what I would about Ico. Damien and I played this for ten hours straight, and never tired of the gorgeous atmosphere it evokes. I’ve recently loaned my copy to Gavin, who’s less completely hooked but still hugely complimentary.