Other things I can’t do on the move: change radio stations or tapes; put sunglasses on; drop the sun visor; switch foglamps on; dip the mirror; scratch my nose. So nowadays I bless red lights. What’s worse is that I cannot relax my left (steering) arm for a single second, and as the car always wants to run down the camber, it’s like holding a house-brick at arm’s length for a solid hour or more. The power steering has been lightened, but what I really want is to make the car track to the right to compensate. My service people (Alfa II in North London, recommended to me by Alfa-loving colleague Mick Walsh of Classic and Sportscar) have coped with most of my odd requests, like setting the steering wheel squint to reduce arm stretch, but we’re still working on this one.
I devised my own design of hand-control to give me more precise throttle control and better leg clearance, and had it made up by a specialist firm in Milton Keynes, Design & Innovation. They also lightened the power steering, fitted the 9-way unit, disconnected the release button on the gear selector, pulled the radio forwards from its coy recess, made an extra-chunky ignition key, and had a chest strap neatly stitched in to the seat to stop me toppling over. With no working trunk muscles, I just flop over if pushed; I still fall to the left on right-hand bends, so it’s a brute trying to signal left to leave a roundabout as the beeper pad goes out of reach. I try to minimise the number of angry hoots by sticking to the outside track. I have refused to carry one of those stickers saying “Disabled Driver”, as my aim is to be good enough to be “invisible”, but I do wish I could explain why I can never lift a hand to say “thank you”, and, occasionally, “sorry’.
After several adjustments by D & I, things are nearly sorted; I could do with a self-dipping mirror — the equivalent Lancia Thema came with one, but Fiat Group/Alfa Romeo UK, rather to my surprise, have evinced little interest in my project in general. So if anyone knows of a scrapped Thema or can identify the company which makes such an item, I’d like to hear. And though you can buy a voice-controlled radio-cassette, it won’t fit the Alfa’s fascia.
Having a ‘phone is simply vital when you can’t get out of the car by yourself, and I have a hands-free Nokia set-up which answers calls automatically. I can’t end the call without stopping the car, but still, being incommunicado after a breakdown or puncture on a dark night doesn’t bear thinking about… Another frightener is fire, but I’ve found an excellent solution, called Firetrace. It’s plumbed-in, but instead of having fixed nozzles and a manual trigger, it relies on a flexible tube which melts and ruptures where a flame touches it, releasing the magic gas fully automatically. It was £114 which I was happy to spend.
After all this effort, and expense, having the car stolen would be a devastating difficulty. There is an alarm/immobiliser, but by accident I’ve ended up with a wizard antitheft device. To guard against an involuntary leg spasm (normal for spinal cord injuries), D & I fitted a removable throttle pedal. Even if the rats get in and start the car, they’ll be hard pushed to get anywhere, as no able-bodied driver seems to be able to manage the hand-throttle.
So at last I have a small degree of independence and a large amount of satisfaction; the car is smooth and quick, the gearbox sweet, if slow to kick-down, and the handling excellent within my low-g limits. But please — if you meet a red 164 which signals right, but turns left and then hoots at you — be gentle with me.