Things went with a swing for John Griffiths on the London to Brighton race
You start a 1903 Daimler on a swing and a prayer. Just learning to do it is to be taken on a journey back in time to some of the most basic mechanical engineering principles that have given birth to the modern car.
Step one: switch on petrol tap under running board and watch for unintended drips. Step two: switch on oiler valves and swing securing pin into place. Step three: turn on manifold pressure valve to allow oil system to pressurise. Step four: switch on ignition. Click once for fuel pump, click twice to activate coils for firing spark plugs. Step five: tickle carburettor until petrol fountains into the air like a mini-oil well, to the doubtless horror of any watching health and safety Gestapo. Step six: look around for starter. Step seven: realise you are the starter. Insert cranking handle, swing, grunt, curse, swing again and, then, offer up that prayer.
Then, with what will turn out to be quite surprising dependability, the 103-year-old but oh-so-simple four-cylinder engine kicks into life. It settles into a slow, noisy but regular idle and the 1903 Daimler 14HP Tonneau Tourer, to give the old girl her full title, is ready for action.
In this instance, the action is taking place in a cold and misty dawn beside the Serpentine lake in London's Hyde Park. The 110th staging of the London to Brighton Veteran Car Run is about to begin. The air is full of the sound of other vehicles making similar coughing and chugging noises supplemented by some high-volume hissing. The noises are emanating from more than 400 other vehicles of a similar vintage as the Daimler. The hissing is coming from the most ancient, dating from 1896, which are powered by steam rather than petrol.
"My" Daimler is, in fact, one of several sprung from its Coventry museum by the Jaguar Daimler Heritage Trust.
For about 30 miles, until halted with an almighty bang by the snapping of a rear axle tie-rod, it opened a window on to one of leisure motoring's more exotic minor worlds - a fascinating mix of magic and sheer masochism.
Except, of course, that the Daimler does not have windows. Nor does it have a windscreen, doors, a heater, indicators or electric lights.
What the Daimler does have is the ability to reduce anyone driving it for the first time to a gibbering wreck. A glance at the floor reveals clutch and brake pedals to be in roughly the right place - but no sign of an accelerator. This turns out be a small hand lever on a notched quadrant behind the steering wheel.
The clutch is so fierce and aggressive that it merits an anti-social behaviour order. The brakes are a declaration of good intent rather than achievement. Only the gearbox, in a conventional four-speed H-gate, has links to the kindlier world of modern motoring.
But once, after perhaps a dozen practice miles, the Daimler has been mastered - OK, once a degree of familiarity has been achieved - the whole London-Brighton experience becomes something verging on a delight. Things might be different in the pouring rain but there's much to enjoy sitting high up with the engine chugging away cheerfully at the Daimler's happiest 20-25mph. With the sunshine moderating the wind and with a crowd of thousands lining the route and egging the veterans on, it is all but impossible to be immune to the charms of this oldest of all motoring events. And you could join the fun for a lot less than you might think. In the unlikely event of the Daimler coming up for sale, this prized museum exhibit would be well into six figures compared with the £750 handed over by its first owner in 1903.
The most illustrious cars can indeed cost a daunting fortune. Auction house Bonhams achieved a world record price of £1.56 million for a 1903, 9.2 litre, 60 horsepower Mercedes in 1991.
However, while the international market for veteran cars - defined as those built before 1905 - is strong, "it is equally possible to buy a veteran and take part in the London-Brighton for £20,000", says James Knight, group head of Bonhams' motoring section and a devotee of the London-Brighton run and other classic car races. Once you've secured your veteran car, entry for the London-Brighton run costs a mere £100.
In its own sale a couple of days before the 2006 run last Sunday, Bonhams sold a 1901 American-built steamer for £19,500 and a 1903 Humber Forecar (essentially a three-wheeled motorcycle with the passenger seated in a basket at the front) for £22,500. Further up the scale, a 1901 Renault 4.5 horsepower voiturette sold for £48,500. The 1903 Georges Richard Type H brougham owned by the recently deceased Earl of Strathcarron sold for £87,300.
Nor do the veterans appear to suffer from the volatility of the rest of the collectors' car market. Prices stayed pretty well unchanged during the great "classic" and "supercar" investing boom of the 1980s and remained largely unaffected by the boom's subsequent spectacular collapse.
"A past general guide for cars has been five grand per seat, five grand per gear and five grand per cylinder," adds Knight.
On that basis, "my" 1903 Daimler would be worth £60,000. How about it, then, Jaguar Daimler Heritage Trust? I'll even mend the broken tie rod.