'I drove the Porsche 961 up the Goodwood hill. The 961? Indeed': Andrew Frankel

On not much more than a whim I toddled along to the Bentley Drivers Club annual Concours where I chanced upon a Gurney Nutting-bodied 6½-litre saloon from, I guess, around 1927. And what was so remarkable about it was that, in its own way, it was so very unremarkable. Because when most people think of a vintage Bentley, a vision of cycle-wings, slotted bonnets secured by leather straps and open Vanden Plas bodywork with the obligatory Union Flag slapped to its sides swim before the eyes. So much so in fact it created a demand for such cars that existing supply could not satisfy which, as any A-level economics student will tell you, inevitably pushed prices upwards.

But it did something else too: it provided a financial incentive for people to buy affordable old saloons, cut them up, throw away their bodies and create Le Mans-style copies. Which means that truly original Bentley saloons, especially with the ‘Big Six’ engine, are now as rare as can be. But to me they are not only beautiful, but as true to WO’s vision as any race replica and because of their scarcity, I find them far more interesting too.

Bentley never set out to make the fastest cars in the world, just the best, and his saloons are as worthy of that claim as any of the more famous and glamorous open cars that were made at the time, or have been created over the intervening decades.

I also attended a drinks reception in Speaker’s House within the Palace of Westminster. Hosted by Mr Speaker, a self-proclaimed petrolhead who spoke movingly of watching, aged seven, Jim Clark win the British Grand Prix, the event was organised by Motorsport UK as a get-together between people with influence within the motor sport community and parliamentarians from the all-party group for motor sport. Your guess is as good as mine as to how my name found its way onto the guest list.

The event was compered by Karun Chandhok who interviewed the likes of Stefano Domenicali, James Allison, Paddy Lowe and MSUK’s grand fromage David Richards on the subject of how motor sport needs to adapt to the changes it now faces, particularly with the emergence of electric cars. And outside in Speaker’s Court a terrific array of competition cars had been arranged, from a Formula 1 Mercedes-AMG and Red Bull to a Formula E car, ProDrive’s Dakar racer running on sustainable fuels, an Extreme E car and so on.

“David Richards directed me towards the StreetCar initiative”

Which was great to see. But I did feel there was a lot that wasn’t being talked about. Because for all those amazing machines, there was no mention of the challenges facing not just grassroots racers and rally fans as the cost of everything heads north, but also the countless suppliers who keep them moving and, of course, are the actual heart and soul of motor sport in the UK.

So come the Q&A I asked Richards how he was going to look after them. One idea was to lobby the chancellor to remove VAT from fuel sold at race tracks for race cars – though I can see that might take some policing – but he also directed me towards MSUK’s new StreetCar initiative, which is aimed at encouraging people with unmodified road cars to take on any one of 12 kinds of test, grouped within three categories: Autotest, Rally, and Trials and Cross Country. You need a competition licence, but for this it is free.

DR always speaks with conviction and once all the formal stuff was done, he came over to discuss it further. So we’re going to set something up and I’ll go and try it out and report back. All I’m wondering now is what kind of unmodified street car I should take and which discipline should I attempt. I’m drawn to Trials and Cross Country where it’s not how fast you go, but how far. So I could take my 1950s 2CV which is not only light and front-wheel drive but has plenty of ground clearance and skinny tyres. I’m told that with universal joints on its front axle (the CV joint having yet to be perfected), it essentially has a degree of differential locking, probably the most useful asset when it comes to such things. If it happens I’ll let you know how it goes.

At the Goodwood Festival of Speed I drove a thing called the Porsche 961 up the hill. The 961? Indeed, Porsche only built one to win the IMSA-GTX category at Le Mans which it duly did in 1986 before spectacularly self-immolating the following year after driver Kees Nierop crashed it at high speed following a downshift while approaching Indianapolis. About 10 years ago, Porsche rebuilt the wreck.

The 961 is essentially a racing version of the 959, which was at the time the world’s fastest road car. So imagine that, but with 650bhp instead of 450bhp, half a tonne less mass, but with the engine still slung out the back and a tiny wheelbase.

I’d driven the 1982 Le Mans-winning 956 earlier in the day (as you do) and all I can say is it was as easy as a driving school Ford Fiesta compared to the 961 which had both the longest first gear and most lag-prone engine of any car I can recall driving. I was almost at the first turn before the boost appeared. And then? Busy is the word. I wrestled it to the top, stopped and listened to myself breathing hard after less than a minute of driving. What would 24 hours be like? I literally cannot imagine.

A former editor of Motor Sport, Andrew splits his time between testing the latest road cars and racing (mostly) historic machinery
Follow Andrew on Twitter @Andrew_Frankel