Jo’s Diary: Spring cleaning…

It wasn’t long until I started resenting the very thing that used to bring me so much joy. I started shuddering at the mere mention of Bicester or Goodwood, which have always been the background to some of my most fun memories. I pulled back from attending car shows or going for drives with friends, because I felt I’d reached capacity. You may not have noticed but I also took some time off from Ti. Plainly, I just didn’t any longer want to have anything to do with cars.

On the positive side, I had to find ways of filling my new found time, which sparked a lot more focus on finding ways of staying sane. I tried new fitness classes and hobbies. I collected Hot Wheels like they were going out of fashion. I went to the concerts I’d always wanted to go to, even if I had to go on my own. I learned to snowboard, fell in love with the sport, and have just returned from my first trip to Norway where I spent six days riding down mountains amongst the fjords with eight women I’d never met before in my life.

Maybe sometimes you need to be knocked to the floor because at least down there you get to see things from a different perspective; and in many ways this period has been transformative. I have always felt extremely attached to the cars I collected along the way, maybe because as a little girl I never thought this would have ever been on the cards for me. My husband mentioned in his wedding speech that I ‘collected rusty cars like stray cats’. But, when I keep doubling down despite all the stress piling up on me, it’s not merely madness, it’s borderline self-harm.

This is why I’m pondering what weight I need to shed in 2026. I’m fortunate to have a company car as my daily, so that’s not a current worry. The RX-7 is not going anywhere any time soon either. It is still one of my dream cars and having just spent a small fortune on the engine rebuild and standalone ECU, I’d be better off throwing money into the wind than selling it right now. I am praying this latest sacrifice will appease the wrath of the rotary gods for years to come.

The Cappo is also a keeper. I have a blast every time I drive it around a track and it is a perfect roof-down summer car and I’d have to have a heart made of stone to get rid of it. This is the car that pulled me through some major breakthroughs in life and it means a lot more to me than a mere sticker price. The reason I went through the bare shell restoration when it made little sense to save it was because I couldn’t possibly imagine it being broken for parts or turned into coke cans under a crusher. That hasn’t changed.

Then, there’s the elusive Sera, which has been in the workshop for what feels like a lifetime, due to a combination of different factors outside of mine or the workshop’s control. With it being out of sight, it has also meant it has been out of mind, and I have at times entirely blocked its existence from my memory. But, I love the fact that it is a bit of a wildcard. Seras do not have an interesting engine, nor do they fetch good money in the UK – their only redeeming features are looking slightly odd and having gullwing doors. Still, I love a misfit, and I think with it being rather inexpensive, it would make a great low season park-it-anywhere fun runaround for when the weather is too inclement for either the Cappuccino or Mazda. I owe it a couple of years at least.

Now, my Lotus Elise S2 track car might be a different story. While I had all the best intentions of spending more time on track and honing my driving skills, I have owned this car for over a year and not driven it more than a few feet around the farm, which feels like a huge disservice. I may have to admit I severely underestimated how inconvenient owning a track-focused non-road legal car would be, and it makes me feel a bit like a failure to do so. But, between the logistical arrangements of trailering it around, planning a track day with enough time before dates gets fully booked and the unfortunate unpredictability of British weather, I am yet to put it to use.

Not only that, but having a corporate job, time off is a precious commodity. Even an evening trackday at my local track, Donington Park, likely means taking an afternoon off work to allow time to get to the unit, unload whichever car is stored on the trailer, swap it for the Lotus, and then drive to the track in time for any last minute checks. And this is before we even discuss how gut wrenching it is that a track day these days costs as much money as a flight to a Nordic country, where instead of tyre walls I can bask on the most beautiful natural views I have ever laid eyes on, while enjoying my new found love for throwing myself down a mountain on an ironing board.

This is not to say I’ll be ditching track days entirely. We have already started planning another day at Curborough this year, about which I am incredibly excited. But, for my level of commitment, both the Cappuccino and the RX-7 are more than capable stand-ins.

The other vehicle I am considering giving up is my 1971 Honda CB175. You might not have heard much about it, because it has served mostly as an expensive decoration item at the back of our unit. I first bought it when I thought it would make for a fun ride for beach races and other off-roading casual events, but visions of riding it at dawn on the Margate coast quickly fell flat when I realised I might as well be riding on quicksand.

Reasonably enough, I expected that in its over 50 years the little Honda might have shed some of its already meagre 20bhp, but in its current state it was almost quicker to Fred Flintstone it down the road. Having had enough on my plate with my cars, my slow rider became a backburner project and, for a while, I entertained a dream scenario where I would ship it to Portugal, have the engine restored there at much lower cost, and then let it enjoy a sunny retirement as local transport when I visited my family.

However, a friend who tried the process quickly talked me out of it. His horror stories of visits to the Portuguese equivalent of the DVLA, followed by mountains of admin, costly fees, and a slow and unclear timeline, meant I would likely be retiring before the bike did. Plus, with the additional hassle of the Honda being a US import, I know it would bring a whole new layer of headaches I do not wish to sign up for.

But, I still have my Triumph Thruxton R. I am knocking on wood as I say this, but it has been the most reliable vehicle I’ve owned. Apart from the normal maintenance costs, which have been low, and a posh scrubbing by a man much more willing to spend time staring at wire-spoked wheels than I, the Thruxton has been an incredibly low maintenance motorbike. The only time I have ever been even remotely tempted to swap it for something else was when Ducati announced the new Formula 73 this week, but as shallow as I can be for a good-looking bike, in my heart I know the Thruxton would still suit me better.

So, there you go. Welcome to the brain soup that has been slowly simmering in my head. I know the barometer of madness is relative depending on whom you speak to, but I am hoping our readers don’t judge me as a coward for my desire to downsize the fleet. Or, perhaps, you might think I am not being harsh enough. Whichever it is, I’d love to know.