Coming to a crossroads

"Slow down a bit"

(15 seconds later) "Just ease off the accelerator a bit"

(10 seconds later) "Bring your speed down a bit".

I'm fully aware of the fact that, although my pupil is speeding, there is a car right up our backside (of course there is). A shame; otherwise I would have cheerfully rammed my foot down on the dual control brake. After all, actions speak louder than words. 

Just five minutes earlier I had collected my pupil from his very large manor/castle (no, I'm not exaggerating).

"Good morning" I smile as I make a point of putting a new facemask on. "Do you have your facemask Sean?" (not his real name).

"Do we still have to? We don't at school (Gordonstoun - a very expensive private school that includes Prince Charles among its alumni)."

He obviously knows the answer though, because he has a facemask in his hand.

I ask him how his driving practice is going and 'what would be like to work on today?'

"Roundabouts and reversing, because I don't practice that."

I sigh internally. I encourage my pupils, who have use of a car outside of lessons, to use the time to work on perfecting their driving and practice the stuff that they struggle with. They don't though. They usually just act as a taxi service for their parents/spouse/partner. It usually builds their confidence, but, more often than not, ingrains bad habits.

Thirty seconds later we are hurtling towards Elgin and I am quickly running out of ways to politely say "SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!" Meanwhile, he is asking me utterly pointless questions, such as "Do I have to keep both hands on the wheel? Sadly, I am not joking. The reason the question is pointless is because I know that it doesn't matter what my answer is, he is arrogant enough to do exactly what he wants when.... no, if he passes his driving test. Besides, I don't want to contemplate what he wants to use his free hand for.

Fortunately, fifteen years of being a driving instructor means that I know exactly how to deal with pupils like him, which, I have to say, are very rare. I am not going to inflict his Verstappen fantasies on other road users in Elgin. We are going to go to a nice big car park and practice lots of very slow bay parking. And, if he brings his clutch up the tiniest bit too much, I shall use the dual controls and emphasise the importance of all-round, effective observation. 

A Zen-like calm has spread through me; not just because I know how to deal with him, but mainly because I just don't care about his driving anymore. That's not really true, I just wrote it for shock value, but there is a smidge of truth in it. I genuinely care about my customers and do everything in my power to make them good, safe drivers..... until now.

The reason for this change? In less than two weeks I will no longer be a driving instructor. I won't be the person responsible for taking 'Sean' (and many other pupils) to their driving tests. There is no dominant reason, but, for many many different reasons I applied for a different job and, this week, I learned that I had been successful in my application. In four weeks I will be a Driving Examiner....

The customer is always right, but your instructor still knows better.

Yes, yes. I know it's been a while since my last post. Get over it.
I'm in a bolshy mood. I'm going to blame it on my pupils. I spend my working hours sat in close proximity  - is there such a thing as distant proximity? - with my customers. No, this isn't a hygiene rant, most of my customers are fresh and fragrant. But imagine spending an hour, two hours, even three hours, in a lift with one other person. Fortunately, some of my customers are expert raconteurs, blessed of wit and warmth. And most of them are capable of constructing a meaningful sentence. But, every now and then, I look at my diary and see that my day includes an hour (or more), trapped with someone who will barely say a word.
In the early lessons I accept, almost expect this. They may be nervous, or just heeding the advice they were given by their parents not to talk to strange men. But, after a lesson or two, I do expect a little bit of interaction. Learning is a two-way process. I try to encourage people to work things out for themselves where appropriate. At the moment I have someone who just doesn't answer when I ask them a question. They just stare ahead and wait for me to tell them. I try rephrasing the question, but often, still no answer. I had someone pass earlier this year who had the strangely amusing habit of, whenever I asked them a question, would ALWAYS put their finger on their lip, screw up their face, as though they were thinking, and then reply "I don't know". I knew the answer would be 'I don't know', but it used to fascinate me watching them get to that answer.
I wouldn't ask someone such a baffling question as 'Why did that person overtake us when they were going to turn off the road ten seconds later?' Or 'Why are there traffic lights on the Kessock Bridge roundabout?' But I do like people to at least have a stab at answering the questions I do ask.
However...... Worse, much worse, than someone who doesn't seem to know anything, is someone who thinks they know it all. I'm not going to give examples but, as a qualified instructor, with close to one million miles of driving experience, I am pretty confident that I know more about driving than any customer I have ever had. Don't get me wrong, I like my customers to discuss situations with me. Give me your perspective and explain your way of thinking. But, ultimately, you are paying ME to instruct YOU... I do know better than you.
And while we are at it - and this is what triggered me to write this - the driving examiners also know better than you. I sat in on a test recently. It was a customer who should easily pass; a really controlled, composed driver. But definitely not a 'know-it-all'. The test was going well, I felt completely relaxed in the back. Unfortunately, they misjudged a car coming round a roundabout and, incorrectly pulled out in front of them. My customer accelerated briskly, but I knew the oncoming car would have had to at least hold the brake.
At the end of the test my customer obviously thought they had passed because they seemed quite shocked when the examiner explained why they had failed. "But I didn't cause then to slow down" he tried to argue. DON'T argue with examiner. The examiner's jaw dropped, "How close did you want them to get" they replied, but I could tell that they were quite stunned that my customer disagreed with them.
I shall give them the benefit of the doubt and put it down to disappointment. But, the next time someone pulls out in front of us (and someone will), I shall ask them for their thoughts. I am pretty sure they won't put their finger on their lip, screw up their face and, eventually reply, "I don't know".

Nobody said it was easy

I thought 100 days was a nice, round point to start my training for Tough Mudder. Start off with some walking, some jogging, maybe even some burpees and planks (I had to search Youtube to discover what a burpee was). The trouble is, I'm quite highly skilled in the art of procrastination. 'Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow' will no doubt be what Jane puts on my tombstone. So Day 100 came and went without any training. So did Day 99. My only excuse is that I had five pupils taking their tests this week. All five passed, so I think I was justified in (slightly) delaying my training.
This morning I was looking at my diary and trying to think where I could possibly fit in some training. With 12 more tests in the next couple of weeks, it is going to be a struggle.
Now, I'm usually not too impressed when someone cancels a lesson with less than 48 hours notice but, today, when someone cancelled a two hour lesson, I thought 'great, I can get some training done'. I was lucky enough to have afternoon pupils who were willing to bring their lessons forward, so I was looking forward to finishing lessons at 5pm and getting out there and transforming my slightly less than perfect physique into a lean, sculpted, perfect specimen of the male form.

Last week, up here, people were getting sunburnt and the temperatures reached the twenties. It was a pleasure giving lessons with the windows down, or even the air-con on. Today, on the day I wanted to get out there, it was cold and wet. In my penultimate lesson of the day, we were nearing the end of the lesson when it started to hail. Hard. Quickly the roads began to fill with ice. The temperature was dropping, so it was not melting. My pupil, Helen, lives in Milton of Leys, which is up on the hills which overlook Inverness from the South.
As we began to head up the A9, the hail had turned to snow, and I mean real snow. It was settling quickly and as we began to head up the dual-carriageway, we could see traffic slowing ahead. Conditions were getting so bad that vehicles were struggling to get a grip and some were even beginning to slide backwards. Very quickly both lanes were at a complete standstill and the police were doing a grand job, shovelling snow from beneath the wheels of lorries and trying to push cars who were struggling to get a grip. Now Helen has only had about twelve hours, so I had not covered driving uphill in snow while other vehicles are slipping back toward us. I asked her if she was willing to tackle it, or would she prefer me to take over. She did an incredible job, controlling the car with precise control of the clutch and very careful use of the accelerator. We did what few others seemed to be doing and kept a healthy gap from the car in front, which gave us much more flexibility. When, on the many occasions we could see traffic was not moving at all, we put the handbrake on, switched off the engine and had a good laugh at the stupidity and futility of some drivers who thought they could make progress by trying to change lanes whenever one lane seemed to be moving slightly more than the one they were in. Finally, after over an hour since the traffic first began backing up, we managed to get off the A9 and get Helen home, where I congratulated her on some superb driving.
By now, I had had to cancel my last lesson of the day due to the conditions, and I headed home, I started preparing dinner, then I realised I was doing it again! I was putting off my training. I looked out the window at the weather. I can't go out in this I thought. Much more sensible to stay warm, open a bottle of wine and enjoy the unexpected time off.

One of the most notorious obstacles in the Tough Mudder is the Arctic Enema (see photo), where you have to jump into a pool of iced water, duck completely under a bar halfway across, and climb out the other side. In three months I will have to do this, yet I'm not going out training because of a little bit of snow. Time to man up. I looked worriedly out the window as I changed into my running gear. I went to Brodie Castle, a mile down the road from me, and thought I would do some laps of the castle grounds for half an hour. Best not to push myself too much on the first day, I told myself. The plan was to jog until I began to feel uncomfortable, walk until I felt ok, jog, walk, jog, etc for half an hour. The snow got heavier, and my red fleece was now almost completely white and I had the lyrics to Coldplay's The Scientist going round in my head. After twenty minutes I made the fatal mistake of jogging within sight of my car. That was that. My willpower left me and I walked back to the car. By now I was beginning to struggle and my chest felt as though it was being sat on. 'This is really stupid' I thought. 'How can I possibly do the Tough Mudder? I shall admit defeat and just go to support the others'.
I got home, still struggling to bring my breathing down to a non-worrying level and tried to stretch, avoiding the temptation to collapse on the bed.
I finally did get my glass of wine - I had definitely earned it - and, to my surprise, a little voice in my head started telling me 'it's not so bad, it's only Day 1 of training, things will get easier.' I may have to abstain from searching for videos of the event, because it all looks a little scary. And I may even have to have to odd day off from training - tomorrow I am working from 7.30am until nearly 9.00pm. But, as long as I keep telling myself 'Don't give up', I am sure I will get there in the end. Gulp.

100 days of Mudder

Father Christmas was very kind to Jane and I last Christmas when, via our daughter Rachel, we received a two night mini-break at the Doubletree Hydro hotel in Dunblane. The second day was very enjoyable, visiting the Falkirk Wheel and walking around the equally impressive Kelpies. 

The first day wasn't so good. It rained and it rained, then, for a bit of variety, it snowed, before raining some more. We had Dolly, our Jack Russell, with us and, rain or no rain, I had to take her for a walk before bed. We walked around the hotel and came to the front, where an impressive lawn sloped very steeply down toward the road. A small sign warned not to walk down the lawn because of danger of slipping (especially on a night like tonight when the ground was so wet), so I stood at the top while Dolly went for a run. In the dark it was difficult to see where she had got to and, as I turned around, my feet slipped from beneath me and, suddenly, I was sliding down the steep slope for at least 20 - 30 metres. As I stood up, I could just about see that I was covered in mud. Soaking wet and caked in mud.
Needless to say, Jane was not particularly impressed but Rachel found the whole thing hysterical when Jane told her the story the next day.

"He looked like he'd done the Tough Mudder" said Jane.
"Oh, we should do that" Rachel suggested.
Now, I had vaguely heard of Tough Mudder - a few of my ex-pupils had taken part in it the previous year - but I had no real idea of what it involved.
Before I could part my lips to offer any opinion, Rachel had already decided that she, Jamie (her fiance), Irene (a friend), Job (another friend) and me would take part as a team. Within seconds she was searching Google and had decided that the Scotland Tough Mudder was too soon, but there is one in Skipton, Yorkshire, on 1st August. Before you can say "I am unfit, overweight and rapidly approaching 50" we had registered for the event and booked two nights accommodation in Yorkshire.
Jobs don't get much more sedentary than mine. The only exercise I get is walking from the driver's side of the car to the passenger side, then back again an hour later. I decided I had better go out for a wee jog - it was scary how long it took me to recover. This Tough Mudder thing really isn't a good idea I decided. I would gladly come along and support, but I wouldn't take part. I couldn't do 12 miles of running up hills, diving into icy water, climbing over all manner of sadistic obstacles. I couldn't even do one mile.
But then I thought 'Is this it? Is this the end of my active life? ' I have run marathons, cycled from John O'Groats to Land 's End, jumped out of aeroplanes, played all manner of sports. Am I now going to say that is all in the past? Is it really time to swap my running shoes for slippers?
" Hell no!!! "
Today I ordered a new pair of mud running shoes. In 100 days time I WILL complete the 2015 Yorkshire Tough Mudder.
Bring it on!

The best things take a little time

Once upon a time, in a house by the sea, there lived a young girl. She worked in the nearest village, but this was some miles away, so it was sensible that she learned to drive.
I wrote about this girl at that time, which was about five years ago. I was still on a franchise with BSM, and driving a Vauxhall Corsa. Now, the young girl didn't find driving easy. It wasn't so much that she couldn't control the car, it was more a fear of other road users. We had several lessons in a quiet car park before she felt that she could venture out onto public roads. Then, to start with, she would get very anxious when other vehicles approached from any direction.
The weeks turned into months and the months turned into years. Sometimes I wouldn't see her for months at a time. However, slowly but surely, she was developing into a nice, controlled driver.
Whilst with BSM I changed from the Corsa to a Fiat 500. In time, I left BSM  and set up my own driving school, leasing a Clio, then a Fiesta before buying my current Alfa.
The young girl moved to Inverness, changed jobs and, finally, took (and passed) her theory test. "How do you feel about taking your test? " I asked her. "No, I don't think I could drive on my own" she replied. I thought she could, but the trouble was, she had relied on me for so long, it was just too easy to ask me what to do, even though she admitted she knew what to do.
Finally, the decision was made. She was going to book her test.
In the hour lesson before her test she had everything thrown at her. The Stornaway ferry had come in and she had to deal with that traffic, a coachload of tourists had arrived in Ullapool and were wandering aimlessly around, oblivious to us approaching. And the bin men were making their way around the village, stepping out from behind their lorry.
"What if that happens to me in the test? " she asked.
"Well, you have just dealt with it, without any help from me, so it's no problem" I replied.
Forty minutes later, I stood at the Fire Station as she completed her test. I could see the examiner say something to her, then she opened the door and looked at me, tears flowing down her cheeks.
"I passed. I PASSED!"
She ran to me and threw her arms around me. "I can't believe it. He just said I passed."
It's always a high whenever a pupil passes, but some are more special than others. And Hayley's was as special as it gets. It had taken five years (on and off), and she had had lessons in five different cars, but she had passed her test and now had her freedom.

In the excitement she had forgotten to pay me, so she text me and asked if I could meet her in Inverness the next day. "Of course. Better still, I can meet you after you finish work and you can drive home - your first drive as a qualified driver."
I met her as she finished work and she got in the driver's seat. "I've forgotten what to do already - I only passed yesterday."
"No you haven't. You can drive home and I'm not going to say a word."
"But which way will I go?"
"I'll leave that up to you."
Just typical.... Her drive home coincided with schools finishing and hundreds of schoolchildren streaming out of school.
"I'm not going to say a word" I reminded her, as she turned to ask me a question.
She got home, without any trouble at all, and without any help from me.
"That was ok. I didn't feel under any pressure"
And that was perhaps the key. Perhaps she had always put herself under pressure to pass and that had caused her to continually doubt her abilities.
This weekend she is going to look to buy a car. I always get pleasure from seeing ex-pupils driving around. I will be positively beaming when I see Hayley driving around on her own.

2014: Fun, floods and facial hair.

Yet another year flies into history at a somewhat scary pace. A year when I have been very neglectful with this blog (again).
Personally, there wasn't too much drama. No births, no deaths, no marriages. I grew an experimental beard for a few weeks when we were invited to a medieval banquet. But it's not something I shall be eager to do again. And, if ever you notice that I'm slightly unshaven, would you be so kind as to remind me of these words.

As you know, I did my first bungee jump and absolutely loved it. But, apart from Liverpool ripping up the Premiership for five thrilling months, any other 'excitement' has been in lessons.
We had Shauna's intensive course in Fort William. My first time instructing there and it coincided with the most rain I have seen fall in a three day period. But not even floods and landslides were going to stop Shauna passing her test at the first attempt.

The only two times we have ever had an accident in lessons were the fault of other drivers (both when vehicles went into the back of us). This year I had a pupil leave the road, not in a lesson, but in a test! Fortunately, no-one was hurt and the only damage was to my two nearside tyres, which both burst.
But I am pleased to report that almost all other drama has been positive, with a record number of my pupils passing their tests. Last year I was thrilled to have 79 pupils pass their driving tests. I was hoping that we might have over eighty this year, but that didn't look likely early on in the year. However, the last few months have gone a bit mad and I ended up with no less than 98 pupils passing their tests in 2014. Congratulations to (deep breath)..... Abbie, Adele, Aimee, Alan, Alex, Alexander, Alice C, Alice Mac, Alice Mash, Allen, Andrea, Andrew, Angus M, Angus U, Becky N, Becky R, Ben, Bethany, Calum, Cameron, Catrina, Chantelle, Charles, Charlotte, Chloe, Conor, Craig, Craig M, Darren, Donald, Donna, Eilean, Eilidh, Elizabeth, Emma, Euan Mac, Euan Mc, Gemma, Geoff, Gregor, Hally, Hamish, Hannah, Harriet, Holly, Humzah, Ian, Innes, Jack B, Jack G, Jamie, Jeanette, Jock, Joe, Joshua, Kacey, Kate, Katie S, Katie W, Katy, Kayleigh, Keirra, Kenneth, Kieran, Lasha, Lauren, Liam, Lilleth, Mark D, Mark V, Mary D, Mary M, Matthew, Michael H, Michael M, Michael O, Michelle, Oliver, Paisley, Patrick, Rachel, Rory M, Rory R, Ruari, Ruairidh, Ryan, Scott M, Scott S, Seumas, Shauna, Sigi, Sophie, Stephen, Stuart, Tess, Tony, Tylar and Vicky. I think that's everyone, but apologies if I have missed anyone.
I am proud of every one of those, but, looking back, the ones that meant slightly more were generally the people who had been with me longer. Angus was one such pupil. He had been unsuccessful in a few tests, arguably slightly unlucky in two of them. But, the puzzling thing was that I had no worries about his driving at all during lessons. I guess it was just that nerves got the better of him on tests. In November he asked me if I would sit in on his test. I am always happy to do so, but explained to him that I cannot say or do anything throughout the duration of the test. He has been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome and in tests, and even in lessons, he often found it helpful to talk himself through situations. Before the test started I simply advised him to drive exactly as he usually does and, if he wanted to, to talk himself through each situation. The test was going fine, although I would suggest that he was holding back a bit more than was necessary. He did get slightly alarmed when, at the start of his parallel park, I ducked down in the back seat to allow him more visibility. The examiner reassured him not to worry about me. As the test progressed I had counted a few minor errors, but nothing serious. As each junction and each situation was dealt with I heard a voice in my head urging him on. "Come on Angus." The test was almost over, just a few more junctions to negotiate. Come on Angus. An awkward situation with parked cars on both sides of the road, but he patiently held back and waited until it was clear, Come on Angus. A pedestrian with her back to us started walking towards the curb. He checked his mirrors and watched what she was doing. Come on Angus. The last junction coming up. He took it slightly wide. Come on Angus. The examiner asked him to pull up and switch off the engine. As far as I could tell, it was a pass, but how would the examiner interpret his slight lack of making progress when the road was clear? "I am happy to tell you that you have passed." COME ON ANGUS!!! YES!
Sometimes, this can be a frustrating job. Pupils cancel lessons and don't drive to their best ability. Other drivers tailgate and do all sorts of stupid (and dangerous) things. But all of these niggles fade away when people like Angus pass their test. And, hopefully, many more people will do so next year. Let's break the 100 barrier!

How NOT to take a driving test

I've had a few tests recently which have not gone exactly as I would have liked.
The first one wasn't her fault. She had a 9:37am test and, the night before, I went to pick her up for her last lesson.
"I've got a bit of a problem ” she said, as she got in the car. " I can't find my purse, and it's got my licence in it. "
That's not "a bit of a problem", that's a major disaster.
" I had my purse at school this afternoon, but it's not in my bag now. "
Whether it was stolen, or simply fell out of her bag we shall never know (although when she did get her purse back, money had gone from it). She reported it stolen and planned to go to the school first thing in the morning, in the hope that she might find it.
I met her at school in the morning. "The cleaners haven't come across it" she said.
"It's OK", I lied, " we have plenty of time. "
Her school was 25 minutes from the test centre and, if she didn't find it in the next half an hour, we wouldn't get there in time.
Luckily, with about fifteen minutes to spare, she came running out, clutching her purse and licence.
Very rarely does anyone go to their test completely relaxed, but finding your licence with minutes to spare certainly doesn't help.

A few days later I had another Inverness test. He hadn't been too happy about his first test: In slow moving traffic, he had held back to keep a junction on the left clear. The correct thing to do, but in the examiner's opinion, he had held back too much and possibly irritated the drivers behind. So, this time, he asked me if I would sit in the back.
All was going fine. I was completely relaxed and enjoying the drive. The examiner asked him to pull over and explained that he would like him to complete a reverse (parallel) park, using the parked car ahead. When I sit in on tests, I duck down on the back seat when they are reversing, so that I do not impede their view. This means that I can't see how the manoeuvre is going, but I had every confidence in his ability to successfully complete the parking.
At one point he braked a touch sharply and the brakes squeaked. I saw him secure the car, sit bolt upright and exclaim "OH MY GOD!!! HAVE I HIT THAT CAR?!!!"
”No, you're fine. It's just the brakes. " explained the examiner.
He successfully completed the manoeuvre and passed his test but, as the examiner pointed out to him at the end, he should have known exactly how close/far from that car he was. Shouting "OH MY GOD!!! HAVE I HIT THAT CAR?!!!" is not likely to fill the examiner with confidence.

That same week I had six pupils taking their test in Ullapool. Typically, the examiners take them out on the A835, a twisting, hilly, 60mph road, to Ardmair, a few miles north of the village. While my last test of the day was taking place I was happily enjoying a coffee. My pupil had been out for about half an hour, so it was time to finish my coffee and walk back to (hopefully) congratulate him on passing his test. Just as I was doing that my phone rang. It was the examiner. My heart sank. It couldn't be good news.
"Hello Martin. We've had a bit of an incident." It definitely wasn't good news.
Although his driving had been absolutely fine in his lessons, for some unimaginable reason he had decided to show the examiner that he was Lewis Hamilton. He took a bend too fast, left the road and burst my two nearside tyres. Thankfully, no-one was hurt, although, with hindsight, I would have liked my pupil to have suffered a little. At least he had to suffer the embarrassment of having to walk a mile or so back to the test centre with the examiner. I can't imagine it would have been the most hilarious conversation between them.
My pupil mumbled a quiet "sorry Martin" then disappeared (not that I was in the mood to discuss his next test with him !) and the examiner hurried off to his next test. That left me to rely on the ever helpful Rod Houldsworth at Ullapool garage to rescue my car and transport it 55 miles to the nearest garage that had replacement tyres in stock.
Later, once I had calmed down, I was left wondering exactly what had happened. Nothing like it has ever happened in a lesson, but I guess the examiners try to leave the pupil to it. I just hope nothing like it ever happens again.

I was writing this while Michael was successfully taking his test in Ullapool. Although he passed with just three driver errors, he didn't make it easy for himself. Ullapool tests don't have a test centre, we just park up near the Fire Station. Whilst we were waiting for the examiner Michael asked me where the nearest toilet was because he was desperate to go. There is no nearby toilet. Not even a convenient bush. We didn't have time to drive to the nearest toilet.
"We don't have time. Can you hold on?"
"I'll have to."
I wandered off whilst he took his test. A few minutes later I saw Michael drive past and do an emergency stop..... Not what you want when you need the toilet ! Not only that, but, at the end of his test he told me he had "a bit on an incident" on the road to Ardmair. "Oh no !" I thought, "what now?" He explained that, just as he went round the corner where the aforementioned pupil had gone off the road, a family of ducks had waddled across the road and he had to do a second emergency stop.

An hour later: My last test of the day. Two out of two so far and every confidence in my third pupil passing easily. Except..... Can't fault his control, can't fault his judgement, can't fault his awareness, can't fault his manoeuvres, BUT...... His mirror checks are just a bit..... random. I have explained that he should check his mirrors before any change in speed or direction, before signalling, before overtaking, before changing lanes (not that this applies in Ullapool), etc, but still I have to regularly prompt him. I have explained the consequences of not checking mirrors but, for some unknown reason, he still misses mirror checks. In the lesson before his test we analysed his driving and I stressed that his only weakness was his use of mirrors. However, I felt confident that he would put it right on his test. Result, fail for not checking mirrors. I didn't need to say  ”I told you so ", the look on his face told me he knew.

So, to summarise: Keep both parts of your licence safe, make sure you don't need the toilet before your test, listen to what your instructor says, don't ask the examiner if you have hit something and, most importantly, try to keep the car on the road....... Easy.

When the going gets tough......

I like a challenge. And I get plenty in this job. 
A few months ago, I had an email enquiry, asking about an in intensive driving course. Nothing too unusual in that, intensive courses seem to be increasingly popular. I replied, asking various questions to establish previous experience, availability, whether or not the theory test has been passed, and whether they are looking for a test at the end. All her answers seemed fine until she asked what days I am in Fort William.
Ah, that's a shame, I thought, I don't cover Fort William. Fort William is 90 miles from me, not an awful lot further than Ullapool, further north on the west coast, at which I instruct several days a week. But the journey, although spectacular, is a relatively slow, wiggly drive, across to Inverness, down the side of Loch Ness, Loch Oich, the Caledonian canal, Loch Lochy, then around the western flanks of the Grampian mountains to Fort William. I would have to say 'No'. "Why not just have regular lessons with a local instructor?" I asked. She replied that she had taken some lessons, but felt that an intensive course would suit her better. She also said that she hadn't yet taken her theory test, so I suggested that that should be her priority if she really wanted an in intensive course.
A couple of months later, she emailed again to say that she had passed her theory, so could I take her on for an intensive course. I relented. She seemed such a nice person and I was impressed with her determination and excitement at the prospect of being able to drive. I did make it clear that I was not familiar with the area but, if she accepted that, I would be happy to help.

The plan was for me to hire an apartment and spend the whole weekend there, working on her driving, then take her test on the Monday lunchtime. I wanted Jane to join me. Although I would be busy during the days, she would be able to explore Fort William, walk our dogs in Glen Nevis, and hopefully enjoy a break from her own business. A perfect plan, or so I thought.....
Last Saturday morning we drove down to Fort William. The forecast was not good for the west Highlands, but it was warm and beautiful blue skies when we set off. As we progressed, a few spots of rain began to turn to a heavy downpour. By the time we reached Fort William there was a lot of water on the roads.

After getting settled in at the apartment, I left Jane staring out the windows, watching the rain getting heavier and wondering whether she should have stayed at home, in sunny Morayshire. I drove off to meet Shauna. A few years ago Shauna had had an operation on her hip which had gone wrong. Complications had left her without full use of her left leg. She told me that she had gone from being an optimistic teenager to someone who would now need crutches to help her walk and had lost interest in her future. It was only when she got herself a black Labrador puppy that her optimism returned. Having the company of the dog inspired her to get up, get out and start living again. And it was this new optimism that inspired her to learn to drive so that she and her dog could get out into the Highlands and go for more spectacular walks. 

The lessons and test were all in her car, a Polo automatic (because she was unable to use a clutch). Over Saturday and Sunday we would have two hour lessons throughout the day, with 45 minute breaks inbetween. Meanwhile, the rain was completely unrelenting. It made for even more spectacular scenery, with Britain's highest mountains spouting numerous waterfalls and the rivers churning and gushing to worryingly high levels. On the roads the puddles were getting bigger and deeper. By Sunday afternoon the roads were flooded in many places and some roads were closed. We used the opportunity to work on driving in such conditions, assessing the road and, where the water was particularly deep, keeping the car moving steadily to create a bow wave in front of the car. At one point we were on a single-track road, that was severely flooded. Some sheep had escaped from a field and were anxiously running along the verges around the car. Meanwhile, we had a cyclist braving the flooded road behind us and an oncoming car with barely room for the two cars to pass. Shauna handled the situation beautifully. I told her "If you can deal with all that, you can deal with anything".

Monday morning, the day of the test, and I was now very worried. Not about Shauna's driving, that was very hard to fault, but by the fact that I was convinced that the test would not go ahead. Despite no let up in the incessant rain, the council had worked wonders with drainage and only a few roads remained closed. But even if the roads were better, they were still bad and, most importantly, the road south of Fort William was closed due to landslides. This meant that the examiner would have to make a massive detour around the Grampians, up the A9 and back south to Fort William. It was therefore, an huge relief to see the examiner walk toward us at the test centre and an even bigger relief to find that the test would go ahead. Shauna asked me to accompany her on the test." What brings you so far from Inverness? " the examiner asked me. "Shauna asked me nicely" was my honest reply. 

The test was.... different.... The road closures and amount of traffic meant that the examiner had to rethink his route on a few occasions. This didn't matter though. Having no experience of instructing in Fort William, I had taken Shauna all over the place during the last two and a half days, and we had no preconceptions of where the test might go. It was no surprise (at least to me) when, at the end of the test, the examiner told Shauna that she had passed. 

Since then, Shauna has got insured and has been driving all over the place. It is always very rewarding for me when someone passes, but this one was more special than most. With her licence, her new freedom, and her dog, 'Ziggy Stardust' by her side, the world really is her lobster now.

Whilst we were in Fort William our daughters seemed to delight in letting Jane and me know how mild and sunny it was at home. So we took the rain back with us.

Here we GOOOOOOOOOO00000000000ooooooooooooooooo.........

Well..... I'm still here. So, either I chickened out of doing the bungee jump, or it all went successfully.
As the day approached I kept expecting the nerves to kick in. I didn't help myself by watching videos on YouTube of other people doing bungee jumps - not a good way to reassure myself.
On some of the videos of Killiecrankie Bungee it shows people making their way along the platform beneath the bridge. Just watching that was enough to stir the butterflies.
The jump was booked at 11:00am. So Jane and set off around 8am, picking up my grandson, Jordan, and his friend Joab, on the way. Beautiful blue skies and not a breath of wind, so I was beginning to think I should perhaps have worn shorts, rather than jeans. As we drove south, the clouds appeared, the temperature dropped and, by the time we reached the Cairngorms, there was more snow than I have seen all winter.
We arrived at Killicrankie around 10am and, when I went to the reception, I was told that they may be able to fit me in early. 'No rush' was my first thought!
I was weighed and was told that I would be joining a group of three friends who were doing a jump as a birthday present. Then, the next thing I know, we are being ushered into a minibus and driven to the bridge.
My daughters, Rachel and Anna, plus their partners and children, had all followed us down to add their support (or perhaps to laugh at me). They were just arriving as I was being whisked away, so they jumped back in their cars and followed the minibus.
At the bridge, the three other jumpers and I were introduced to the Highland Fling Bungee instructors, who were all excellent. They managed to strike a careful balance between being professional, but also enthusiastic, relaxed and light-hearted. They ensued that we were always clipped on even climbing up short ladders.  I'm not sure how they decided who was going to go first, but the other man was to go first, then the woman in his group, then me, then the young girl, whose birthday it was.
We had to walk along a platform just beneath the bridge, which took us to the jump platform. We were all harnessed and individually talked through what would happen. I then had to sit and wait while I watched the two before me.
The man was clearly very anxious, to say the least. He was led to the edge of the platform and encouraged to spread his arms out wide and, on the count of three, leap forward. But he kept backing up and leaning back on the instructor. On two occasions the instructor counted down, but he didn't jump.
Finally, on the third count, his knees buckled slightly, and he fell forward towards the River Garry. If anything, that stopped me from getting nervous. I had kept expecting the nerves to hit, but, when I saw his jump I just thought 'I'm up here now, so I either fall or I dive.' The instructor then came and had a few words, which emphasised what I had just decided, explaining that I would get more out of the jump if I tried to dive out away from the bridge.
By now, the man was being winched back up. His faced had changed completely and he was beaming. It was now time for the eldest girl to go, and she threw herself off the platform very confidently, with a loud WHOOP! My turn next.....

"Any words for the camera?" He asked...
"Erm..." What do you say? "Help"? I mumbled a slightly unconvincing "Let's go for it".
My ankles were bound together, so I had to waddle forward onto the platform.

"Keep going. Your toes need to be over the edge" said the instructor. As you can see, he had hold of my harness, but it still felt very uncomfortable, inching forward like this.
I'm now standing, with my toes over the edge, looking down at the drop. He decides that now would be a good time to smile for the camera. Actually, I can smile. A huge surge of adrenaline floods any fears and I can't wait.
"Right. Arms out wide. I'm going to count down from three, then I want you to go big."
For half a nanosecond there is a doubt. This is NOT a natural thing to do - jump 132' down towards a very shallow river (too shallow to make any difference). Too late.
"3... 2... 1..." and I launched myself as far away from the platform as I could......

My view changed slowly from the sky, down down down towards the water. Then, just as it felt like I was heading straight towards the river, a gentle pull began to increase as the bungee chord did its job.
Jane had earlier suggested that the worst part might be when you bounce back up again, then are left dangling, but I barely noticed that bit. I tried to quickly get my bearings so that I could find where the family were and wave to them. Then they lowered a cable which I had to clip to a loop on my waist, before they hoisted me back up to the terra firma of the platform. More words required for the camera.... "Fantastic. Amazing." Hardly original, but what else can you say?
"Would I recommend it?" Without doubt..
It may have been something that tempted me when I was a teenager. But, after freefall parachuting, I lost any inclination  to do a bungee jump. If you only do one, I would say do a parachute jump. But I would certainly do another bungee. And I cannot recommend the staff at Highland Fling highly enough.

Go on..... You know you want to!

Click here to see all the gory detail on YouTube

.

Phew!

A friend (Joan) sent me an email the other day about this accident near Flagstaff, Arizona, USA.
In the picture above, the pick-up had been travelling from right to left, at about 75mph, when it lost control and crashed through the guardrail (where the people in the photo are standing).

It flipped end-over-end, bouncing off and across the culvert, miraculously landing upright, facing in completely the opposite direction.

The 22 year-old driver and his 18 year-old passenger were unhurt, except for some minor cuts and bruises.

Now, so far, this doesn't seem too exceptional. They lost control and got lucky with where they landed. But, if you scroll down and look at the bigger picture, you will see just how amazingly lucky they were!

One small step for man

Sometimes, during lessons, it is nice to just relax and chat about non-driving stuff. The trouble is, you don't know where that could lead.

Towards the end of last year, one of my pupils,Sophie, was telling me about the weekend she had planned. It was her boyfriend's birthday and she was treating him to an adventure weekend in the Cairngorms. She had done a bungee jump and they were hoping to do some white-water rafting and cliff jumping. We swapped tales of our adrenaline-junkie pursuits, but I must have mentioned that I had never done a bungee jump.

Then, a month or two ago, Sophie, having passed her test, was chatting to me about doing the Pass Plus course. She then casually mentioned that there was going to be a sponsored bungee jump at Killiecrankie, Perthshire, in aid of Yorkhill Children's Hospital. She also casually mentioned that she had put my name forward! I used to be all action, no talk. Now I'm the opposite.

"Erm... Right. So what happens now?" I asked.

She explained that I could apply for an application form on Facebook, then they would send me all the details. "Right, I'll do that." I lied.

But, after a while, I did apply. The information was promptly received and, a week later, I was booked in to jump off the 132' bridge at Killiecrankie at 11.00am on Saturday 22nd March. Eek and double Eek!

You can find out more about the fantastic work done by Yorkhill at the Royal Hopsital for Sick Children by going to www.yorkhill.org. And you can sponsor me directly by clicking on www.justgiving.com/MartinRutter-FarleDrivingSchool

Meanwhile, my daughters are having a field day. They think the whole thing is hilarious. Their main concern is what I am to wear. A onesie is the favoured choice. That ain't gonna happen. Ever! They can't wait for next Saturday. I think they just want to hear how loud I scream. 

The other day I was talking to a friend of my wife. She asked me about the bungee jump and then asked me "Have you done any practice?"  !!!! 

Erm.... not really sure how I am supposed to practice? Buy some industrial strength knicker elastic and jump off the Kessock Bridge? Perhaps I should start off small. Maybe tie my shoelaces together and jump off the bed? I can't see that ending well.

Procrastinate now. Don't put it off.

Crikey! It's nearly February already. Time flies by when you're the driver of a train.....( as people who remember Chigley will know.)

An unbelievable amount of stuff has already happened in 2014 and I haven't even recapped last year yet.

So... 2013. A pretty good year. I didn't win the lottery, but I didn't have anything disastrous happen either. No major ups and downs, just a gentle swell:
As far as driving lessons were concerned, it was probably my busiest year yet. Certainly, I have never had so many pupils. But, much more so than ever before, there were a lot of people who already had a full licence, but were wanting some refresher/improvement lessons. Meanwhile, I decided to cut down the area I cover. With Inverness becoming increasingly busy for me, and Ullapool nice and steady, I decided to stop instructing in Elgin (and the surrounding area). Typically, the very week I made that decision, I had three enquiries about lessons in that area. But I stuck to my guns and recommended other instructors in Elgin/Forres. Earlier in the year I had gone further in the other direction, right up to Kinlochbervie, close to the far North West tip of Scotland. Although the driving was a bit limited, I really enjoyed my weeks up there, but, one by one, they passed their tests, and it no longer made economic sense to continue teaching there for a handful of pupils.
Congratulations to Adam, Aisha, Alasdair, Alison, Amanda, Arran, Audrius, Beccy, Beth, Cameron, Cat, Christopher, Ciara, Clare, Clarke, Daniel, Danny, Darren, Dylan, Eachann, Eilidh, Eireann, Elaine, Elisabeth, Emily, Emma, Erin, Euan, George, Georgina, Graham, Hamish, Hughie, Iain, Ian, Isobel, Jack, Jacqueline, Jade, Jake, James, Jamie, Jessie, Jo, Joanna, Jodie M, Jodie S, Joe, Jonathan, Josh, Joshua, Katie, Kelera, Kelly, Kirsty, Kyle, Lachlan, Lewis, Louis, Matt, Matthew, Melissa, Michaela, Niall, Niki, Peter, Rachel S, Rachel T, Ruaraidh, Ryan, Sabeel, Sarah, Scott D, Scott P, Shona, Shopan, Sophie, Stephanie and Tom on passing their driving tests this year - three more than last year, perhaps we'll break eighty next year. It's nice for me to look back at all these names. Some of them passed very quickly, but, perhaps because I spent more time with them, I get more satisfaction thinking about the ones that took longer to pass. There are a few people there who took over fifty hours of lessons, but I think their achievements are no less than the ones who took less than twenty.
A few weeks ago, one of my pupils asked me if I ever 'drop' any pupils. I struggled to think of any. There had been maybe two or three people over the years that I have 'dropped' because they continually messed me around by cancelling lessons. But he was asking because he has a relative who is a driving instructor, and he, apparently, has dropped pupils because he told them 'they would never be able to drive'. I thought it was the job of an instructor to teach people how to drive?! Looking through that list, there are a couple of people who, in the early stages, I thought 'this will take some time', but both of them passed first time, so it just goes to show that everyone can drive. It just takes a bit of effort from them and me.
The other significant news, as far as driving was concerned, was getting my new tuition car when the lease on my Fiesta ended. I haven't written much about it, but I am very pleased with my Alfa Romeo and my pupils all seem to like it. Not only is it a very comfortable and rewarding car for me to drive and spend so much time in, but the positive steering and the power and flexibility of the engine seem to make it a very sure-footed and secure car for my pupils. In addition, they really like the stop/start system (they simply press the clutch down to start the engine if they stall) and I really like the heated leather seats on frosty mornings. One day, I promise I will get around to writing a bit more about it: just like I promise that I will write more (hopefully) helpful stuff on various Inverness roundabouts (which is what seems to draw most people to these pages).

I had intended to write a lengthy, poetic appraisal of a variety of aspects of 2013. But that is all behind us now. Time to get on with 2014 (maybe with the odd 2013 flashback).

Get orff my land!

Imagine you are out driving and you are looking for somewhere to park. The roads are full of cars but, eventually, you spot a gap. Great. You pull up alongside the car ahead and are just about to reverse into the gap when the owner of the car comes out of their house and says 'Can you move on and find somewhere else to park'.
I was with a new pupil this morning. She has had lessons with another instructor, but wasn't confident reversing, so we did a turn in the road (fine), then a reverse into a side road (a bit hesitant, but fine). Time to look at parking. I picked a really quiet side road, with nothing to worry about and asked my pupil to pull up alongside the car ahead and try to complete a parallel park within two car lengths. She made sure it was safe to move off, positioned herself perfectly alongside the car (a white Range Rover), just under a metre away, checked all around, reversed back until her back wheels had gone beyond the Range Rover, then turned toward the curb. Nice control of her speed and regular checks around the car - excellent. Just as we were almost finished she paused. She had seen a pedestrian nearing the back of the car and was waiting for him to continue on, away from the back of the car. But he didn't move, he ducked down, looked into our car and gestured for me to wind the window down.
"Can you not use my car as an obstacle. "
It's not worth me doing anything than acquiescing and driving on, even if I did think he was an arse.
"Yes, of course..... " I began to reply, but he continued, "I know you have to practice, but not here."
I politely asked "So you would like us to practice with someone else's car? " but he didn't really answer.
I have dual controls, so there is absolutely no danger of us going near his car. In my lessons, if we are practicing reversing maneouvres, I don't like to spend too long in the same place (or use the same car) - twice maximum. Simply because, if it was my car, I would get a bit anxious if someone was endlessly practicing, using my car. I guess he had every right to politely ask us not to use his car, but it was his manner that rubbed me up the wrong way. We were inches away from completing the maneouvre and he could see we were away from his car.
I was reminded of a news story a few years ago when the inhabitants of an estate in England got up a petition against driving schools using their estate to practice. All the driving schools obliged, which made the locals happy until they tried to book driving lessons for their children, because all the instructors has got together and agreed never to drive in that estate.
I wonder what Range Rover man would do if he has children that want to learn to drive.

Wheelie bins and wondrous calculations

Yes, I'm still here and, no, you haven't really missed anything. Actually, you have, but don't worry, it was nothing life-changing.
It's six in the morning on a cold November day and I've got to crank my mind and body up for a busy day of driving tests and lessons. Five lessons, plus no less than TEN driving tests! Surely this must be a world record with driving tests? Has anyone (at least in Britain) had ten of their pupils (nine of them having their first attempt) taking their tests in the same day?
This has all come about because two examiners are coming to Ullapool today. The reasons are too long-winded to explain. Usually we get one examiner, conducting six tests on one day in each month. This is always a Wednesday. For some unknown reason, this month and next are on Tuesdays though.
I was with a pupil last week and we were practising turning the car around in the road (three point turn). I pointed out that, being a Wednesday, the wheelie bins were out in the road, ready for collection.
"Remind me of your test date" I asked him.
"January 29th."
"OK, so that's a Wednesday," I replied. I knew it was simply because it is only November and December that have tests on a Tuesday, "so, the wheelie bins will be something to consider on the day of your test."
He looked at me with a stunned expression.
"How did you work that out so quickly?"
Perhaps I should have given him some BS about calendars, leap years and perhaps some quadratic equations, but I boringly told him the truth.
He looked very disappointed. "So no hidden talents then?"
"No," I sighed, "no hidden talents."

Matthew's big day

Matthew's test was scheduled at 9.37am; a nice time, I think, after rush hour, but before Inverness' traffic really gets going. So we could afford to have a relaxed start to the day, with tea, bacon sandwiches and (not so relaxed) The William Tell Overture (The theme from The Lone Ranger) to liven us up.
There have been all sorts of roadworks and changes to the road system in the area around Inverness test centre recently, so we wanted a relaxed drive around the area before the test. With fifteen minutes to go it was time to turn the car round in the road and head towards the test centre. Matt seemed fine, but I was the one getting nervous, and this wasn't helped by the amount of traffic delaying his turn in the road.
"What time is my test?" asked Matthew, at 9.30am, as we approached the test centre.
"We've got plenty of time." I reassured, but anxiously aware that we only had a few minutes to spare. 

With every test I always get a little...... not nervous, but concerned. I only bring a pupil to test if I am confident that they are fine driving on their own. They don't have to be perfect (like Sarah last month), but they have to make me feel relaxed and confident in their ability. Matthew certainly drove like that. I had no doubts at all about his ability to drive but...... It is a test. And you never know what someone will do in test conditions.

For those of you who might not know, I'll explain the procedure: Matthew meets the examiner, who checks both parts of his licence and asks Matthew to sign a declaration that the car is insured and that he has lived in the UK for 6 out of the previous 12 months. The examiner then asks Matthew if he would like me to sit in on the test (he did). We walk out to the car park and the examiner checks his eyesight by asking him to read a number plate from 25 - 30m (the requirement is 20m). Then we approach the car and the examiner asks him two 'show me/tell me' questions. An incorrect answer incurs a 'driving fault' (Matthew answered both of his correctly). You will pass your test if you make 15 or fewer driving faults and no serious (or dangerous) faults. A dangerous fault is one that involves actual danger to anyone (including you and the examiner) or to any property. A serious fault is one that could potentially have been dangerous. A driving fault is one that, at the time, was not considered potentially dangerous, but making the same driving fault throughout your test could become a serious fault. Once we are all sat in the car, the examiner explains that the test will last approximately 45 minutes and that he is to follow the road ahead unless road markings or signs indicate otherwise. If the examiner wants you to turn left or right he will ask you in good time. For me, sitting in the back, I have to keep quiet and can have no influence. Sometimes the examiner might include me in the conversation, but, as a rule, I have to sit tight and shut up.

The examiner decided to get the reversing manoeuvre out the way and asked Matthew to pull out to the left or the right, straighten up, then reverse back into a bay. He is looking for control, accuracy and effective observation. This had been Matthew's least favourite manoeuvre, but he executed it perfectly.

He drove off and I began to relax. Really nice driving. Good approach to junctions and hazards. Over halfway through the test and absolutely nothing he could be faulted for; slightly over-cautious in a couple of meeting situations, but I would far rather he was cautious than take chances. We then came to a reasonably straight 30mph road with a bin lorry emptying the bins up ahead. Just beyond was a parked van on the other side of the road. If he acted quickly, he could comfortably overtake the bin lorry and safely return to his side of the road before the van became a problem. He hesitated and held back, just a fraction. The opportunity was then lost as the bin lorry neared the van and we had to wait until another gap appeared when the bin lorry had passed the white van. Hmmm. The examiner did not register anything on his sheet, but he might wait until later. It was certainly nothing serious though. 

Matthew continued to drive very nicely, dealing with some tough situations. The examiner asked him to pull over, then explained that the next section would be when he wanted Matthew to drive independently. For this part, they can either ask you to follow road signs (for example, 'follow road signs to Fort William'), or they can give you a series of directions (as opposed to step by step directions). He gave Matthew a combination of both. "I would like you to turn right at the end of the road, turn left at the next two roundabouts, then follow signs to Aberdeen." He then asked Matthew to repeat the instruction. There was a few minutes between the two roundabouts and, approaching the second, I thought his indicator was a touch early. Although there was no road between us and the roundabout, indicate too early and it could look as though you are parking. For the first time, I noticed the examiner put something on his marking sheet. Even though I thought the signal was only slightly early, I still worried that the examiner might have viewed it as serious. Ridiculous, because I knew it wasn't potentially dangerous, but I still worried.

I guess it was partly because there was definitely slightly more pressure on Matthew and me than usual. There is pressure on every test, if only because no-one wants to spend another £62 on a second attempt, but failing your test is NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. You have waited at least 17 years to get your licence. so it really is no big deal if you have to wait another few weeks (Ten working days is the minimum, but, in practice, it can be a lot more before you get another attempt). With Matthew, he was flying back to England the next day and, although his driving was easily good enough to pass wherever he chose to take his test, we really had been building up to this moment. And I know that his parents (my brother, Chris, and his wife, Sondra) would not have given it a thought if he doesn't pass but.......... I guess that, whenever someone doesn't pass, I always wonder if I have missed something in their instruction.

So now we were following signs to Aberdeen, through the busy Raigmore Interchange, and heading east on the A96. The examiner then asked him to follow signs to Culloden and Balloch. This took him right on a roundabout and into a slightly unusual road. Unusual in that it had regular streetlights, but was in fact a 60mph road. As he came off the roundabout he seemed to be slow getting the car going. With slight alarm I realised that he presumed that the street lighting mean that it was a 30mph speed limit. I could do nothing. I sat there, siliently urging him to look ahead where, in the distance, I knew there would be a reminder speed sign. fortunately he saw it, checked his mirrors to make sure that no-one was about to overtake, and put his foot down to get it up towards the speed limit. Eek. How would the examiner view that? Any vehicle behind would have expected him to accelerate towards 60mph after the roundabout, and may have been tempted to overtake when he was slow to do so. But, he had seen the first reminder sign and, importantly, had checked his mirrors before accelerating. I thought it could be viewed as a driving fault, but surely nothing serious?

Not far from the test centre now, but the bin lorry and the failure to see the national speed limit sign were heavy on my mind. As far as I was concerned, they were not serious, but I was not the one examining Matthew. Back at the test centre, he pulled carefully into a bay and the examiner asked him to switch off the engine. He looked down at his sheet and said "I'm pleased to tell you, Matthew, that you have passed." After the formalities of handing over the provisional licence and the paperwork, he quickly explained that he had recorded just two driving faults; one for hesitation at the bin lorry, and the other for indicating too early for the roundabout. He was obviously happy with the way Matthew realised that he was initially too slow, and corrected it, after the Culloden roundabout.

Matthew was delighted. It had been a very competent drive and to pass, first time, with just two driver errors is an excellent result. But it was well deserved. He had driven in every area I cover, from Elgin in the east, right up to Ullapool in the north-west, all of which provided different challenges. Jane rewarded him by taking him to sunny Findhorn for a walk on the beach and lunch outside the pub, overlooking Findhorn Bay, while I continued with quest to bring all my pupils to Matthew's standard.

The countdown.....

The day after Ben Wyvis was a little painful, but I was pleased how quickly the aching disappeared (unlike the blisters). Meanwhile, Matthew was progressing nicely. He was still sitting in on lessons (as long as my pupils were in agreement) and getting as much driving as possible inbetween. He asked if I could give him a mock test.
"We can do that, " I replied, "but I warn you that I will be strict and pick up on the slightest imperfection, otherwise there is no point."
I thought it went well, considering that we still had a week to go. I can't remember exactly, but I recorded just 5 driver errors (minor faults, if you prefer). But there were three moments I considered were serious.
He switched off the engine. "How do you think that went?" I asked him.
"Yeah, I thought that went well."
"Anything you weren't happy with?" and he talked about a couple of the things I had recorded as a minor driver error.
"How about the time when you moved out to allow traffic onto the A9 (dual-carriageway)? Your awareness and use of mirrors was really good, then you went passed them, but when should you have returned to the left lane?"
His face dropped a little, "The lane was busy."
"It was, but you had plenty of opportunity to return to the left lane earlier than you did."
"Then, toward the end, when I asked you to turn right at the roundabout, taking the fourth exit to Culloden, how were people to know where you were going?"
"I know, I forgot to indicate," he replied, "but I was watching the man at the pedestrian crossing."
"Yes, which obviously is good, but people approaching the roundabout still need to know where you are going." I don't think he was convinced. The trouble is, he sees no end of drivers approaching roundabouts (junctions) without indicators, so it might be understandable that he didn't consider it serious.
I'm struggling to remember what the other serious fault was, but I remember Matthew only grudgingly agreeing with me.
He was very quiet for a few hours afterwards. "Don't worry about it. There was no point doing a 'mock test' unless I picked up on everything that wasn't correct."
"I know, but three serious faults.'
"Yeah, but you (hopefully) understand why those things could have affected other road users, and (hopefully, again) you won't repeat them." He still wasn't happy.
The rest of the week continued to go well - more lessons, then, finally, a day off for Matthew while Joanna was busy passing her test in Elgin. "Can we do another mock test?" Matthew asked. We had two days to go. Would we be better off working on his weakness? And would a 'negative' result knock his confidence? But he really wanted another mock test, so I reminded him that I would be strict again.
At the end of the mock test I asked him "Ok, how do you think it went this time?"
He was hesitant, but I could see he wasn't disappointed. "I thought it was better."
"Anything that you think caused anyone else a problem? Or could have caused a problem?" He wasn't too sure.
"Just three minor errors this time, but......... (drumroll)..... No serious faults this time." His face lit up. "It was a nice drive. You just need to be a bit more aware of road signs and take in what information they give you. But carry on driving like that and you'll be fine."
The next day, inbetween lessons, we worked on his awareness and anything I thought could be polished further. He wanted an early night, but I thought that would be pointless, so Jane joined us for a trip to the cinema to see The Lone Ranger, which I thought was a bit too long, although good in parts. But Matthew loved it, and it did the job of taking his mind off the test.
I think I was getting more nervous than he was. Big day tomorrow.

Windswept and interesting

The next few days Matthew progressed nicely, picking up knowledge from sitting in on lessons, then putting it into practice when we had time between lessons. But I was concerned that it was all getting a bit concentrated. Time for a break.
A week or two ago my daughter, Rachel, had suggested that we all climb Ben Wyvis, the 3,432" mountain that dominates the landscape North of Inverness. The name derives from the Gaelic Beinn Uais, which apparently translates as Hill of terror. Of course, often when such things are suggested, everyone seems keen initially, but nothing happens. This time it actually went ahead.
Matthew and I were driving/instructing in Ullapool during the morning and arranged to meet everyone else at the car park, a few miles north of Garve, at 3.00pm. Of course, after weeks of calm, sunny days, the weather was now looking slightly menacing and the wind was really beginning to whip up.

Corrieshalloch Gorge

Corrieshalloch Gorge

Matthew and I took a very slight detour to Corrieshalloch Gorge, 12 miles south of Ullapool. The photos don't do it justice. The drop from the suspension bridge is just terrifying. But, if ever you are anywhere near Ullapool, it is well worth the short trip.

Matthew at Corrieshalloch Gorge

We met the others, as arranged. There was Jane, my wife, Rachel and her fiance, Jamie, and our eldest three grandchildren, Jordan, Charlie and Carmen, plus Jordan's friend, Job. I haven't told you about Dolly yet. She is our 'new' Jack Russell terrier. Actually, she is a year old now, and I will probably tell you more about her at some point. Anyway, she came too.

 Not everyone was suitably attired - Rachel thought Ugg boots were appropriate - but we were not in any hurry and the ground was dry. Off we marched, Jordan and his friend up at the front, and me at the back, lying to my grand-daughter Charlie about how much further it was. The initial approach is a long, continuous rise and a bit of a slog. Charlie was finding it hard going and, to my concern, so was I. For someone that, in the past, has run marathons, cycled from John O'Groats to Lands End and ascended peaks like this with ease, it was alarming how unfit I had become. It must be at least a couple of years since I have done any proper exercise and I was playing the consequences. My legs were fine, but my lungs just weren't accustomed to being used and I was beginning to think that I would have to tell the others to carry on to the top without me. The really embarrassing thing was we weren't even a quarter of the way up.
Every now and then, someone would stop to take a breather, have a drink, adjust clothing, or simply stop to admire the increasingly spectacular view. To my enormous relief, this gave my lungs time to adjust and, after a while, I was absolutely fine and stomping up the mountain without the slightest discomfort.
The thing with mountains is that the summit always seems much closer than it really is, usually because the true summit can't be seen from the slopes. The slope was getting steeper, the path was becoming increasingly zig-zaggy, the wind was becoming a roaring gale and we were all struggling. As we sheltered from the wind behind a mound of boulders, we decided that the sensible thing was to stop climbing and head back down the mountain. The climb itself was not too dangerous, but the wind was incredible.

But Jamie, Job, Matthew and I (with Dolly, of course) are not sensible, and carried on to the top (hopefully). The zig-zag nature of the path mean that sometimes we had our heads right down, using every muscle to push ourselves into the wind, then, as we turned the other way, the wind would push us up the hill - a relief, but you had to be careful not to let it push you too fast. Job decided it was too much and found more boulders to shelter and wait for us. Even Dolly was beginning to tremble. My legs were beginning to burn and my lungs had pushed my ribs to breaking point. The wind roared in my ears, caused my jacket to inflate and flap around me. My cheeks felt like they were being torn from my face, and streams of tears and snot flew from my eyes and nose, high up into the air, and off towards an unsuspecting fisherman, somewhere off the coast of Norway.

Near the top

After what seemed an age, Matthew, Dolly, Jamie and I finally reached the summit. Strictly speaking, it wasn't the very highest point - that was further along the long, humped ridge - but that was a walk, rather than a climb, so we decided that we need go no further. We sat, almost in silence. Funnily enough, the wind wasn't so bad right at the top, almost as though it had admitted defeat. There was no low cloud to obscure the view, so we could see forever in every direction. Sunbeams danced around the scenery, rivers seemed like tiny silver ribbons and clouds raced across the surrounding hills. It was enough to make you feel like a god. An utterly, utterly shagged god, but still a god.

Matthew, Dolly and I at the top

Jamie and I at the summit of Ben Wyvis

Matthew, Jamie and Dolly

The initial part of the descent was steep and totally unforgiving. My legs muscles burned with every step and my sinews and cartilage around my knees had turned to soup (Mulligatawny). Even Dolly was beginning to slow down. Until now she had been scooting up and down the mountain, probably covering at least twice the distance that we poor humans managed. Eventually, the slope began to level out a bit, giving very welcome relief, but it was a seemingly endless trek back to the car. By the time we finally reached the cars I was blistered, aching in virtually every part of my body and my lower jaw hung like an extra from the film Deliverance. But would I do it all again? Of course! Just give me a year to recover.

The first few days

Picking Matthew up from Inverness airport went smoothly. We had 40 minutes to kill, so I did a bit of commentary driving to give him a taste of the city and what things he should be considering whilst driving. I then had a lesson with Jade. I had already asked most of my pupils if they would mind Matthew sitting in on the lesson, and almost all of them were quite relaxed about it.
I had already planned to base Jade's lesson on anticipation, use of mirrors and emergency stops. No reason to alter that plan. Besides, it would liven Matthew up after his flight. The first two emergency stops were slightly cautious, but the third was excellent - it certainly did the job of waking Matthew up.
Matthew had already done a bit of driving with his dad, and felt confident(ish) about driving from Jade's house to the petrol station. Unfortunately, it seemed that someone had kindly abandoned their car at the pump while they did their weekly shop in the petrol station, and, as a consequence, vehicles were having to queue back out onto the dual-carriageway. I talked him carefully through it, but, later, when Jane asked him about his day, he described that bit as 'carnage'.
After that, we took turns to drive to Ullapool, then he sat patiently in the back of the car, watching lessons with Peter, Isobel, Chanel and Katie. The last pupil was a brand new pupil, so I suggested he wait in The Ceilidh Place, as I didn't think it would be fair on the pupil.
Day two was similar. Not too much driving for Matthew, but sitting in on lessons with Caitlin, Brian and Jade in Inverness, then lessons with Becky, Ben and Niall in Ullapool. However, I suggested that he drove the eighty mile journey home. Not too technical, but a good opportunity to get him reading the road well ahead at 60mph and adjusting his speed in plenty of time. It was a very promising drive until the very end when he stalled just outside our house, much to his frustration.
Day three: A one hour lesson with Sophie in Auldearn, then a two hour lesson with Jack in Forres/Elgin. So still not too much driving for Matthew (apart from sometimes driving between lessons), but he said that, sitting in the back, he was leaning a lot.
Next pupil, in Forres, was James. James was close to being the perfect pupil: He is always outside waiting at the start of each lesson; he usually has 2 1/2 hours a week (and has NEVER cancelled). And, he listens to every suggestion I make about how to improve his driving, then tries to work on it. He went for his driving test a few weeks ago (in Elgin) and shocked me by picking up one serious fault: Early on in the test a bus, in front of him, had indicated that it was going to stop. With oncoming traffic there was no immediate chance of overtaking, so James decided to slow right down and select first gear. All very sensible. Unfortunately, he put it into first gear before he had got right down to a slow walking speed. The bus then moved off again, much earlier than James expected (perhaps he could have looked to see how many passengers (if any) were waiting to board the bus). So James brought the clutch back up, when he was still going too fast for first gear. As a result, the car suddenly slowed down (with no brake lights, of course, to warn the vehicle behind). The examiner explained that the following vehicle was far enough behind to easily react, but, with no brake lights, would have anticipated that James would accelerate when the bus moved off, not slow down.
Unfortunately (as far as his driving is concerned), James is spending the next fortnight with friends in Nottingham, before moving to Switzerland in a couple of weeks time. We have both been checking for test cancellations in Elgin, to try and get him passed before he goes, but have now run out of time, so this was to be our last lesson. He has managed to get a test booked in Nottingham, a couple of days before he flies to Switzerland, so I thought we would try to cover every aspect of driving and aim for perfection. He achieved that aim. I gave him really awkward manoeuvres in busy areas, took him to areas he had never been before, yet he took it all in his stride.
Later that day, when Matthew and I were discussing what we had covered, he said "I liked James. I learned a lot from him. He seemed to give himself lots of time at roundabouts and was always looking all around the car." I wish James all the best in Switzerland and Nottingham. Keep driving like that and show those Nottingham drivers how it's done James.

" Is it raining? I hadn't noticed" (I'm too busy cursing my stupidity)

Thursday afternoon Matthew spent sitting in on more lessons. My diary was unusually well planned today (or so I thought). Each lesson led on to the next, instead of the usual jumping backwards and forwards.
My 2.30 - 4.00pm pupil (another Matthew) was starting in Auldearn and taking his first drive into Inverness, where I would meet a brand new pupil at the point that I would drop Matthew off. Inverness seemed unusually busy. It wasn't the best weather we have enjoyed recently, so I assumed that a lot of the traffic was tourists coming into the city, rather than enjoying the mountains and beaches. It was only later that I remembered that The Black Isle agricultural show and Belladrum music festival would also be bringing thousands of people into the area. I don't think I have ever seen Inverness so busy with traffic. Later on that afternoon, it would take me nearly twenty minutes to merge onto the A9 dual-carriageway from the slip road.
As we neared the end of Matthew's lesson, I asked him to head towards the train station, where I would drop him off and pick up Elizabeth for her first lesson. The trouble was, traffic was at a complete standstill and the lane that we needed for the station was completely backed up. I decided that the best option was to drive to a nearby area, then I would walk to the station to meet Elizabeth. A few problems with this idea: it was now raining quite heavily (and I was dressed for a summer's day); without my car Elizabeth would have no way of recognizing me (maybe I should get a Farle driving school top hat);  we had only previously communicated by email, so I didn't have her mobile number; and, finally, I had no idea what she looked like - all I knew that she was the girlfriend of someone who passed with me two years ago, so I guessed I was looking for a girl aged somewhere between 17 - 30, but, you never know, she might be older.
So I ran to Inverness train station, in the rain. By the time I got there I was drenched. Then, of course, there were many girls standing, waiting at the station. Which one was Elizabeth? Unless she was wearing a T-shirt printed with "I'm Elizabeth" (or even "I'm with Thomas"), I had no possible way of identifying her. I tried to inconspicuously look at each girl, quickly attempting to decide if they were Elizabeth, purely by 'gut feeling'. Several of the girls were using their mobile phones - I was now a couple of minutes late..... Were they trying to call/text me? Even more stupidly, I had left my phone back in the car. There was no option, I was going to have to approach each girl and ask if they were Elizabeth. Who should I approach first? I then saw two teenage girls with (presumably) their mum, looking towards the road. I felt very uncomfortable walking up to them. I looked at the two girls, one of them looked at me, so I asked "Elizabeth?" To my huge relief she said "Yes."
After scampering through the rain back to my car we had an enjoyable lesson, then I made damn sure I had her mobile number.