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I would be interested to know how far John Gallon has driven in a day. Despite getting on a bit, he regularly drives long distances in his Swallow and seems to thrive on it! A better man than me.
The furthest I have driven in my 1930 Swallow Saloon is from Wokingham in Berkshire to Coventry (where the cars were bodied in the 30's). After a while the task of driving such a small enclosed car becomes arduous. The noise eventually gave me a headache and I had to keep stopping for a rest! The journey was worth while. I had been invited to a Dinner with Sir John Egan (the then Boss of Jaguar Cars) and met such luminaries as Lofty England and Bert Hadley. I remember Bert gave me some useful advise on stopping a petrol leak. My wife and I stayed overnight with the then Swallow Register President, Connie Teather who along with her husband worked closely with William Lyons in the early days. She was a lovely, kind lady.
The Journey back was uneventful excepting an occasion when I needed to do an emergency stop! The brakes had gradually worsened and I only managed to stop by rubbing the n/s front wheel along the curb!
Happy days
]
Location: Derby
That Cherbourg to Colmar is a 530 miles journey. It is quoted to take 13 hours avoiding toll roads which I guess you did. 
This is with a fast modern car. I would compare with my travelling to Paris from Brest with my 2CV in the sixties. A 380 miles which took me 12 hours. This 1955 2CV would happily nearly reach 42 mph if the wind was favourable and the road going down.
Sorry, this is not an A7 story. Maybe a kind of equivalent though?
Location: Brittany
That would be quite a trip in a Swallow, Brian especially a saloon if that is what you drove - or was it a two seater open car? I think that would be more fun.
As it happens, I now have the luxury of some quality carpets and 'Trundles' as she is called is in much better condition generally than used to be the case. Unfortunately, same can't be said for the driver!
Location: Derby
I did the same as David C, except my trip to the start of the Monte run was from Cambridge. I had a knocking noise that I couldn't identify all the way down there - turned out it was a wheel that had come loose, but thankfully had decided, in a sprit of great kindness, to stay attached to the car. I had had a puncture a couple of days before we set off and hadn't had time to mend it. I went all the way to Monte and back with a punctured spare but was working on the principle that the easiest thing to borrow if I had another was a spare wheel.. Thankfully, I didn't need to do that either. Like David, we drove through the night. I didn't fall asleep, however, as I was following the Nippy of Simon Howe, driven by Alistair Frayling-Cork that, even by then, was burning so much oil, the acrid smoke stung my eyes and kept me awake (the Nippy was using so much by the time we got to Monte, Alistair was going round everyone who was changing oil, cadging their second hand stuff) I remember we drove until about 4am then came across a random check point set up by the organisers. At that point, we decided we had had enough and went to sleep in the car, only to wake a couple of hours later. I have a photo somewhere of a group of us standing round my Primus Stove having a brew. We all look completely wrecked. And we camped every night, none of this hotels organised in advance!
Location: Cambridge
In the mid 1960s I was a mechanical engineering student at Dundee
University and used Austin Sevens as my transport. I lived near Cambridge
so regularly did the 400 mile trip up and down. Mostly these were fairly
uneventful and usually took 12 or 14 hours. In winter an early start with a
well charged battery was needed. By dawn the lights were dimming but the
battery revived during daylight but was dimming again by journey's end.
Some trips do however stick in the memory.
Initially I had a 1930 fabric saloon which lasted me a year and served
me well until the body disintegrated as so often happens with these, I
kept the remains for a long time and the car - UR 7179 - is still on the
lists but as a chummy.
I then had a Mk 2 Ruby, BVE 18 with an engine I'd made up out of bits
and pieces and was one of the liveliest and smoothest I've had. The car
was indecently quick. However the hard driving and Dundee cobbles were
too much for it. The axle split on the king-pin eye and several crankcase
studs pulled out.
I then met a wonderful eccentric named Walter Vogelsanger who had a shop
on the Hawkhill from which he restored and sold bubble cars to the sound of
pianolas powered by cylinder vacuum cleaners. He collected things and had
a large shed near Dundee which was a real Aladin's cave. There were two
hearses, one being horse-drawn, all the instruments from a failed brass
band and all sorts of other stuff including two Austin Sevens. One was a
1934 4-seater tourer AUN 912 with a tooth missing from its crown wheel and
a MK1 Ruby RG 6968 which seemed pretty sound. I bought them both for £35.
I sold the Ruby on to an unsuspecting fellow student but revived the
tourer after a real struggle to get the brakes to do anything noticeable
and it was a very lax MoT inspector who eventually passed it. It had a
badly worn Bowdenex conversion which never worked properly.
At Dundee I met a number of like-minded people with interesting cars.
My friend Dudley had a very nice 1933 MG J2 and had previously been a
Ruby owner. George had a 1948 Hillman Minx which was pretty dire with
totally unpredictable Bendix brakes. If all 4 worked they were excellent.
Unfortunately this was by no means guaranteed. Sometimes one brake would
do nothing which was not too bad if it was on the back. If the front very
scarey! Occasionally nothing whatsoever happened which once caused us to
shoot across the A92/Riverside Avenue roundabout at Invergowrie at near
terminal velocity. Fortunately nothing was coming. Alarming.
Dudley and I then worked on George and persuaded him to buy a 1934 Box
Saloon, SR 9106, from near Auchterhouse by Dundee. He still has it and
very nice it is too.
The really memorable journeys were in the 1934 tourer.
The first in December 1966 on what turned out to be the coldest night of
the winter.
I'd hauled the tourer out of the shed and revived it but the hood had
disintegrated in storage. I came upon one from a 4-seat Morris 8, but it
only fitted where it touched and was very draughty. I wore everything I
could and drove the A1 on hand throttle trying to keep my feet from freezing
by putting them on the gearbox.
Undoubtedly the longest journey was on Friday 6th January 1967.
Dudley had driven up from Surrey and George from Peckham to my home
at Barley near Cambridge the day before, ready for an early start.
George's car was untaxed as he'd left the log book behind in Dundee. He'd
already been stopped and reminded by the police in Sidcup. He told them
the tax was in the post and then hastily applied for a new disc by post
and said the log book was lost. Thus a duplicate was waiting in Dundee
with the tax disc. Things were more accommodating then.
It started badly at 3:00 am. I bump started the car down the drive to
save the battery and was amazed when the sidelights flood-lit the garden
then went out, while the ignition warning light lit up the interior with an
eerie red light.
This initiated me into the mysteries of 3 brush dynamos. It took me ages
to discover the problem. One cell of the battery had failed and gone open
circuit causing the dynamo to drive the voltage up and blow the sidelight
bulbs.
I shorted out the dead cell with a length of wire and searched the
garage for sidelight bulbs. I found 2, one for the front, one for the back.
There was an old 6-volt pretty dead battery that didn't fit the battery
box which I put on the floor below my knees.
Eventually off we went at 7am on a cold grey dawn. I was running on 4 volts
with a very dubious old 6volt battery as reserve.
When daylight came, at the now disappeared Norman Cross roundabout on the
A1. I connected the second battery on the floor under my knees using wire
wrapped round the posts to charge it during daylight.
The run to Scotch Corner was uneventful, although Dudley felt a bit
frustrated as his J2 was far faster than the sevens - especially Georges.
We took petrol at Scotch Corner at 4pm just as a freezing red sun was
setting and we headed for the A68, Carter Bar and Edinburgh. Between there
and Edinburgh we encountered everything in the way of weather apart from
thunder & lightning. Rain, snow, ice, fog . . .
In the dark Dudley lead in the MG with its 12 volt lights, I was in the
middle as I only had 2 sidelight bulbs and a very dead battery. I drove on
sidelights with gaze fixed on the MG's lights ahead. George brought up the
rear with a full complement of lights.
As we climbed over the A68 it started to rain. I noticed that the MG
was driving very erratically which seemed odd. I operated the wiper
manually to conserve power. The rain got heavier and I was forced to turn
the wiper on. Somewhere near Ridsdale a car coming the other way with
headlights full on dazzled me on a bend. I had to brake hard and the wire
fell off the battery and the engine, lights & wiper cut out. I think I'd
locked the back wheels with the brakes. The front brakes were pretty useless
on this car with it's very poor Bowdenex conversion. I lost sight of the MG
in front and was left scrabbling for wires on the battery under my knees.
Once the panic was over and things had returned to 'normal' I had to turn
on headlights to see what was happening. To my amazement the road was white.
That rain was actually snow and the MG was struggling with lack of grip and,
it turned out later, a seized king-pin making the steering very notchy. It
also explained how I'd managed to lock the back wheels and stall the engine.
Also proved that Austins out-perform MGs on snow!
At Edinburgh we parted company with Dudley as he had the speed. George
was really knackered. Worse still his Seven's lights were beginning to fade
as the battery ran down. I didn't really have any.
Crossing Fife heading for the then recently opened Tay Road Bridge George
seemed to upset some road works as he remembers seeing some red oil lamps
flying past the passenger side window! I never saw them at all.
We arrived in Dundee at about 10:30pm and collapsed in our rooms in
Belmont Hall.
We couldn't even be bothered to visit Greasy Pete's across the Hawkhill
for a fish supper.
A very long drive that seemed much more than 400 miles.
We had fun as students in the '60s!
Location: Melrose, Scottish Borders
A Side to Side is my longest single journey/one day drive. 451 miles in 12 hours. Here is an abridged version of an article that appeared in the 750MC Bulletin after the event.
Left to right: Ken & Eileen Cooke, Janet Edroff & Gill Davies, Robert & Fenella Leigh, Nick Salmon
Lowestoft to Lands End Side to Side Run. April 11th 2009
The run was to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the 750 Motor Club and 40th anniversary of the Austin Seven Clubs Association.
Saturday dawned misty and damp and at 6.45am Ness Point looked even more bleak and gloomy than the day before, being a nondescript bit of concrete promenade sandwiched between a gasometer and a huge wind turbine in the industrial area of the town. Biz Bissell from the Norfolk Centre of the 750MC had already set up the start and Ken & Eileen Cooke and I took the opportunity to drive our cars down to the circular marker that declares the location to be the easternmost point of the UK.
Photographs completed we drove back up the slope to the starting point and I was just sorting last minute bits and pieces when Biz said ‘Do you want to go?’ As I wanted to get as much daylight as possible I said ‘Yes’ without hesitation and on the stroke of 7am I set forth, the first car away.
I had reckoned on taking about 14 hours but it soon became clear that the roads were very quiet and once out of Lowestoft I was able to press on at a reasonable cruising speed. I’d intended as Plan A to take the A12 down through Ipswich to the M25 and then round to the M3 before joining the A303 but on the spur of the moment decided to follow a route I had mapped out some weeks before and written out as a set of directions for each major turning.
I’d decided not to stop for anything other than petrol and pee breaks and to sustain myself on the packed lunch the Harbour Light’s landlady had given me instead of the ‘full english’ that was part of the b&b deal. Thanks goodness she did as otherwise I would have expired from malnutrition and dehydration somewhere around Exeter...
The run itself was totally uneventful. Just a steady drive at comfortable speeds, not pushing the car, or the driver, too hard. I was glad of the earplugs I had thought to bring as they dulled the rattle and roar of the mechanicals and got rid of the repetitive swish of modern cars hurrying by. The only holdups were at Stonehenge where the traffic queued for several miles in each direction, and on the M5 where there had been a multiple collision and the traffic was crawling by the scene.
It was about 4pm when it occurred to me that I might be able to crack the journey in under 12 hours and with that thought in mind I put in a fast average for the hour, of 42 mph. As anyone who has driven to Cornwall knows, you get to Exeter and think you don’t have a lot further to go – whereas the reality is that there are miles and miles ahead of you. It also feels as if every hill around Exeter only goes one way - up.
The sun was lowering in the sky as I came over Bodmin Moor, magnificently rugged, bare, and desolate. Not a place you’d want to breakdown. To welcome me to Cornwall the ignition light came on, meaning something amiss with the dynamo, but I chose to ignore it on the basis that I shouldn’t be needing the headlights if all went according to plan. Turned out to be a dirty commutator (must remember to wash behind my commutator in future!) which was soon put right at journey’s end.
On past Redruth and the familiar Cornish signature began to appear – the ruined chimneys and stone buildings of long-abandoned tin mines. There are unbelievable numbers of them; monuments to a great industrial past. Just after 6.30pm I skirted Penzance and lunged into the last 10 miles, praying that I wouldn’t get stuck behind someone out for a leisurely evening drive.
The roads had narrowed and stone walls lay in wait if enthusiasm outweighed care on the twisty switchback of these last miles but all was well and at 6.55pm I pulled into the driveway to the Lands End complex. A queue of cars lay ahead of me waiting to pay their entrance charge but I zipped round them and buzzed down the coaches lane, studiously ignoring the staff at the pay booth.
Then, horror. Where was the finish??? I ran into the complex (ran is an exaggeration, after that length of time in the driving seat I hobbled) but couldn’t see anyone, so a quick phone call to Andrew Jarmin, the marshal from the Cornwall Austin Seven Club, elicited they were ‘round the corner’.
I quickly drove there and was greeted by Andrew and his wife and friends as the ‘first one home’ with a finish time of 7pm. Exactly 12 hours from start to finish. Having left in murk I arrived on a stunningly beautiful evening with not a breath of wind, a calm sea, blue skies and the sun dipping to the horizon. It was a perfect end to the day – made all the more perfect when I was presented with a bottle of brandy for being the first to arrive and invited to join the Cornish team for a very welcome dinner.
Yes, I got the odd bit of numb bum and aching leg but in general the Ruby is remarkably comfortable. The fact that it covered that distance without any major malfunction is also pretty remarkable and I reckon Sir Herbert would be mighty proud of his ‘Dependable Austin’ 73 years on from the day it was first put on the road.
Stats:
Hour Distance Covered
1 37
2 41
3 40
4 31
5 43
6 41
7 26
8 35
9 40
10 42
11 37
12 38
451 miles in 12 hours. Avg speed 37.58 mph.
Approx 10 gallons of fuel - £38.47. 45.1 miles per gallon. Approx 4 pints oil used.
Route:
Lowestoft, A146 to Norwich, A11 to Newmarket, A14 to Cambridge, A428 to St Neots, A421 to Bedford/Milton Keynes/Buckingham, A4421 to Bicester, A41/A34 to Oxford/Newbury/Whitchurch, A303 to Andover/Honiton, A30 to Exeter, M5 round Exeter, rejoin A30 to Lands End.
Location: North Herts
Good to see a picture of Bob Leigh. I bought my fabric saloon (mentioned above) from him. The fount of Austin Seven knowledge in Cambridge and great tea drinker acted as agent in the deal.
I went all over the highlands in the car.
Here it is on Drumochter Pass just before its last journey South.
The body was well on the way out. The wheel-arches had collapsed and the driver's door had to be tied shut. Entry & exit via passenger side. It had lost its starting handle, I blame Dundee cobbles! It also had a failed dynamo so it did this final tour after exams were done and the whole 400 miles to Cambridge running off the battery with no charging.
I ran out of petrol just short of home and coasted into a petrol station in Arrington. That was the first time in over 500 miles the starter failed to turn it over. 6 volts works pretty well really!
Location: Melrose, Scottish Borders
Looking at a Route Planner on the net, it's approx., 512 miles, each way.
This was in Oct 1967, I drove by myself from Winchester up to Inverkeilor (twixt Arbroath and Montrose), leaving early Friday morning, arrived after midnight and I slept under a hedge in my Gran's garden.. Drove back on the Sunday, again leaving (very) early morning, to be back for work on Monday morning. DON'T ask me why I did this, I don't know why, like a lot of things I did in the 60's.
I drove up the east coast way, so must have involved the M1, certainly went through Jedburgh, etc., coming back I recall Motherwell around 5am as the tab on the outside of the dizzy earthed itself to the metal casing.
e.g I stopped.. it took a little time to resolve with a weak torch... 
I think part of the M5 was involved, which stopped at the M50, thus down to Cheltenham and on down through Cirencester etc.,
I got back to Winchester about 11pm, and I remember stopping* at a pub at the top of a hill south of the now M4 near Chisledon, and a pint going straight down , not touching the sides of the throat, another pint ordered within seconds... * Actually the car only just got up the hill due to a burnt out valve.
My family in Scotland still talk about me turning up, un-anounced and that the area in Gran's garden were I slept was over he cess pit.....
THIS IS THE 6TH attempt with the code...
Location: The very edge of Europe - West.
Not very long, but approx., 200 miles each way, Winchester to Sheffield and back over a number of week (also weak) end....
Then common sense and something more local took over.......
Again in the mid 1960's, I knew, including the biblical sense, a nurse in Sheffield, so would pop up there.
I can certainly remember feeling the heat from the steel works through the car windows as I left Sheffield around 4 am to get back to Winchester for work Monday morning.
Both these entries were in my bog standard '34 RP, CG 7241. 
Location: The very edge of Europe - West.
Uhmn, ready R's OP, with details, I have written the trips up somewhere else, so will have to locate them.....
Yes, also the JoGLE, solo in under 24 hours, but that also included an hour's sleep at Exeter, so I can only claim 750 miles as a single journey, though I did stop approx., every 3 hours, 120 miles, for taking on and letting out liquids, etc.,
Location: The very edge of Europe - West.
Provisional route will be from here (Alès) down to Montpellier, Lodève Castres, Toulouse and Auch, then over the Pyrennées to Pamplona and then to Burgos and Santiago.
Nothing fixed as yet because I will need a pass-out from the Mem'Sahib first and I will have to save up a few beer tokens too. The idea is to try and follow the pilgrimage route from my neck of the woods (it starts near to Arles)as closely as possible and without going on motorways. A lot of the pilgrimage route is closed to motor vehicles so I will have to improvise.
Location: Sarf of Frogland
Provisional route will be from here (Alès) down to Montpellier, Lodève Castres, Toulouse and Auch, then over the Pyrennées to Pamplona and then to Burgos and Santiago.
Nothing fixed as yet because I will need a pass-out from the Mem'Sahib first and I will have to save up a few beer tokens too. The idea is to try and follow the pilgrimage route from my neck of the woods (it starts near to Arles)as closely as possible and without going on motorways. A lot of the pilgrimage route is closed to motor vehicles so I will have to improvise.
Hmm Reckless, aren't you supposed to make the pilgrimage on foot?
Renaud
Location: Sunny Brittany
You may be interested to see this post from Facebook by his son just two days ago...
"Gerald Raymond Walker
Yesterday at 10:45am
A bit of nostalgia from the early 1960s. The yard of Ray Walker's garage in Perowne Street, Cambridge. Some interesting Sevens in the left hand photo. 1922 Chummy at the front and, on the row behind, a 1931 boat tailed 2 seater and a Gordon England Stadium. The large car at the back is a 1939 1.5 litre SS Jaguar."
