The Man in the White Suit_ The Stig, Le Mans, The Fast Lane and Me - Ben Collins [68]
I couldn’t wait to meet the polar explorer who had sawn off the ends of his own frostbitten fingers rather than wait for surgery; the man who cheated on SAS Selection by hitching a lift in a taxi between checkpoints, and was subsequently booted out of the Regiment for blowing up a film set.
Now this man, who at first appeared more like a retired Geography teacher, was sitting next to me with a demonic expression on his face.
I belted Ranulph into the driver’s seat and dashed around to the passenger side when I heard him revving the engine and digging around for a gear. He set off like he was starting a Grand Prix before I had even fastened my belts.
His acute gaze was fixed 1,000 yards down the road. His hands crushed the Liana’s steering wheel and he tore through the gearbox.
Ran was only dimly aware of me shouting in the background.
‘Ranulph, back off a bit …’
‘RAN?’
No response.
‘RRAAANNNN …’
I was a passenger in every conceivable sense.
I don’t know what he would have done next without my intervention, but I didn’t want to find out. It was time to get a grip. I rapped hard on the side of his helmet with my knuckles and yelled, ‘RANULPH, LOOK … AT … ME …’
Suddenly I was back in the room.
I was determined to keep his attention. I summoned as much authority as I could manage and ordered the legend around the circuit.
His weathered features told me we could have been anywhere – up the side of Everest or running across the Gobi desert. No quarter was asked for or given with the controls of that little car. He wrang its neck and kicked its guts.
Ran’s spirit was contagious, and I spent countless additional laps with him in an effort to get him the result he so deserved.
It was sheer bloody-mindedness that drove him. Thirty years of wrestling polar bears meant he couldn’t quite acquire the finesse to caress the car towards the ultimate lap time.
I climbed out for his solo runs and watched in awe. Smoke billowed off all four wheels as he screeched through the final corners like no guest we had ever seen. He was every bit the adventurer I had read about, a well-spoken bullfighter, with balls of steel.
As my second series with TG came to a close, I was beginning to feel I had more of a role to play, and on surer foundations. Things brightened up elsewhere as well. Georgie moved in and transformed my pigsty into a glowing home.
‘What do you do with all these boxes?’
‘It’s where I keep my … stuff.’
‘Storage.’
With that, my entire collection of … things … was gone. It turned out my place even had wooden floorboards. Having Georgie back made my heart whole again. After all of life’s twists and turns, we had found each other again. I couldn’t quite believe my luck.
Chapter 18
Stars in Reasonably Priced Cars
During eight years of Top Gear I was privileged to hitch a ride with some of the most renowned personalities from the worlds of movies, TV, music and sports, from tough guys like Christian Slater, Mark Wahlberg and Ewan McGregor to the gorgeous Sienna Miller and Denise Van Outen. Their goal: to become the fastest ‘star in a reasonably priced car’.
The front-wheel-drive Suzuki Liana catapulted them all from A-list splendour to Z-list economy travel. Most had never driven a car fast, let alone balls-out around a racing track. Fame is no ally for overcoming fear of the unknown, and there was only so much we could achieve in one and a half hours, but it was my job to tap undiscovered reserves of high-octane talent …
The first two corners were trials of patience, waiting for front grip in the long gradual turns. Hammerhead tested the discipline to wait for the whites of the cameramen’s eyes before braking and not cheat by cutting the corner. The Follow Through was all about faith, keeping your foot to the floor. You had to be a bit crazy in the final two bends. For