A crucial feature I had forgotten about

I'm now in North Devon, on my usual farm not far from Great Torrington. I arrived in wet weather, and although I've seen much more sunshine (and even warmth) in these parts, it has remained - shall we say - a little soft underfoot. Yesterday, and the day before, were bright and brilliantly sunny at times. But I awoke to dull skies and light rain this morning. That means more mud.

Notwithstanding this, I've buzzed around in Fiona. Two days ago I drove down to Tintagel, and hour and a half away in North Cornwall, and had a great time exploring the cliffs there, and getting the views, even though it made my injured right knee stiff later on. I'm here for nearly two weeks more, and I plan a road trip to Looe in South Cornwall, a drive across Dartmoor, and a train journey to Exeter from Okehampton on the recently reopened line, which now has an hourly service. Also plenty of more local outings.

I don't go on holiday to spend, but even so I've bought clothes at Sidmouth (yet to be worn in suitable sunshine), a tray at Bridport, some DVDs in Yeovil, and a painting at Bideford. It's nice to know that to some extent these will be covered by the money saved by not paying for nearly so much gas and electricity at home! OVO Energy must be puzzled why my consumption has dropped so drastically, unless their use-analysis algorithm can guess that I own a caravan, and have simply gone on a early-season four-weeker. Going on holiday is a way of keeping their usage predictions - and therefore what they want for the monthly direct debit - within bounds.

Whatever warm glow I might obtain from wrong-footing OVO, I wish I were getting a warm glow from the sun as well. It's only the start of April, but I've often had very nice weather in the past at this time of year. Squelching about on soft ground and wet grass is not great fun. Thank goodness for wellies!

When I arrived here, two motorhomes had already pitched at the nearer end of the long barn. Not the plum spot at 'my' end, but close to the entrance gate. Here's the setup. After taking the lane from Great Torrington, you turn off, open a gate, and then run past the back of the long barn to another gate that lets you onto the site. Then it's a left turn - on a slight slope - to pitch in front of the barn. These shots - mostly taken after the two motorhomes left to go home - will make it plain:

Given two days without rain, the ground dries and becomes firm. But constant rain can make hauling a caravan onto and off the site - or steering any kind of motorhome - rather tricky. The two outfits that arrived before me, hoping for a week of good weather for a sixty-fifth birthday treat - both skidded about, and could do no more than end up tucked parallel to the barn, with their front wheels stuck in ruts. The ground had been saturated from all the heavy rain, and their attempts to manoeuvre had simply made matters worse and worse.

I had no trouble whatever, and didn't expect to have. I smoothly drew my caravan through each gate, and backed it onto my usual pitch. No wheel spin, no deep marks on the grass. Here's the proof:

I was reversing on a slightly uphill slope, on very wet grass, and my caravan weighs over a ton. The people in the two motorhomes were out for the day, enjoying a local walk, and did not witness my arrival. But they must have wondered when they returned just how I'd managed to get my caravan perfectly pitched without scarring the grass. Whereas their own orchestral manoeuvres had left deep pits. As in these shots, taken after their departure:

They'd become totally stuck, and departed only with the help of Phil, the farm owner, who hauled them off the site by towing them with his trusty old Land Rover. Even so, the first motorhome to go left skid marks, as the spinning steering wheels couldn't get a proper grip. I watched from my snug caravan, took a few shots through a side window, and inspected the scene on foot a while later:

No straightforward run at that gate was possible for the motorhome nearer the gate. Phil had to take it around in a wide arc: 

I felt sorry for the two couples, who were together and having joint birthday celebrations. The weather, the general wetness and muddiness, and getting stuck like this, must have seriously compromised their holiday.

So how come they got into difficulties and I didn't? 

It's down to the transmission of power to the driving wheels. They, the motorhome owners, had only front wheel drive. I have permanent four-wheel drive - plus winter-grade tyres that grip wet grass really well. Phil's Land Rover naturally had four wheel drive too. Here it is, in the barn:

It's twenty-one years old, and still going strong. Phil and Ann use a modern 'normal' car for ordinary driving, replaced every couple of years; but Phil swears by the Land Rover, for getting about in the fields, hauling trailers, and occasionally getting caravanners and motorhomers out of trouble.

And here's the thing. No four-wheel drive vehicle is economical to own. It has a complicated transmission that increases fuel consumption. It's heavier. More can wear out, or go wrong. But it adds traction, and you'll keep moving, keep pulling, uphill or down, in all but the direst conditions. 

Four wheel drive is great for caravanning. It's a basic feature I specified when having Fiona built for me back in 2010, and I'd rather forgotten it was there. I'd been considering when to replace Fiona, and what with, but not factoring in the need to have a car with four-wheel drive. For as long as I would need to haul a caravan, I must have four-wheel drive.  

That somewhat simplified my future choices. Setting aside all-electric cars (the better ones would have two motors and effectively four-wheel drive), I'd have to go for a large, strong diesel (or possibly petrol) car with the right kind of transmission. That narrowed it down to Land Rover, Audi, Volvo, Toyota, Mitsubishi, Nissan or Kia. I could accept high but affordable running costs. But I must have durability, reliability and comfort. I'd even consider a truck if it made any sense.

And meanwhile, I had Fiona, getting older now but with this taken-for-granted ace up her sleeve: four-wheel drive. I mustn't lose sight of that.