JUDGE’S NOTES: JOHN BARKER

EARLIER, BOVINGDON AND I WERE STANDING IN THE warm sun on the old ferry jetty at Kylesku, marvelling at the crystal clear waters teeming with little fishes. Now mist was obscuring the distant views and it had started to rain. It was perfect. Every road test is enriched by some wet running and Scotland was finally delivering on its reputation.

I didn’t know it but, wipers flick-flacking, the steady climb of the M3 Competition up my finishing order was about to accelerate, its back end exuberantly kicked