WAY BACK IN THE DYING DECADE OF THE LAST century, performance testing was still a sacred pillar of the UK magazine road test. It was a serious business conducted in secret places. More often than not that meant heading to the sprawling Millbrook Proving Ground in deepest, darkest Bedfordshire. If not there, then some brooding former Cold War airbase, and failing that, a quiet, straight stretch of road near to the road test editor’s house.
When I was a voracious consumer of car, as a road tester, natch, I was delighted to discover I wasn’t too far from the mark. Especially when it dawned on the 21-year-old me that official access to private industry test facilities was basically endorsed hooning.
