Driving a Bedford OB

Another short story from Alan M Watkins

My soft spot is for OB's.  I passed my (then) saloon PSV test on AGV194 (Premier Travel).  Just after the war they helped countless companies cope with the upsurge of traffic and in those "Golden Years" made a lot of people a lot of money and built countless companies along the way.

They ran out of breath uphill with a full load, tis true, but for me they are the iconic country bus of all time.

You could wind them up to 50 (no speed cameras then) on the level but they were also a joy to drive.  Absolutely precise steering (not always guaranteed at the time) and wonderfully instantly responsive brakes as opposed to the vehicle on which I passed my decker test (Guy GUF131ex Southdown) on which absolutely nothing at all happened until
the pedal was at least halfway down.

With an engine in good condition an OB would tickover without anyone hearing anything.  The only indication that it was "alive" would be the gear lever moving unless you were in the front seats to catch the faint murmur.  Further back you would hear nothing.

But when you pressed on the acclerator there was a delightful little cough" (some call it chuff) as it powered up.

My first "all in charge" trip after passing my test was an OB Private Hire from Elmdon to Dunmow with a ladies darts team - the return journey in some of the worst torrential rain I have ever driven in.

I'll have you know that I also drove AGV 194 on the Saffron Walden Ladies Hockey Club Easter tour of the Lake District - games at Kendal, Keswick and Cockermouth - and although it took a very long time AGV was faultless (even when screaming in the Lake District).  It was good enough for Mountain Goat to use an OB in later years and Waunfawr on Snowdon tours into the 70's.  The early SB brakes were not a patch on
OB brakes and were the subject of complaints from Bedford operators.

At the end of that mini tour I had tips totalling over £10 - the vast majority probably for the occasion when the Hockey Captain came to my elbow and said: "Driver, is it possible for you stop if you see a field with hedges or a clump of trees?"

Always willing to oblige I found a suitable location and most of the bus emptied.  What on earth they were doing I have no idea because I didn't look.  No I didn't.  That was then.

I appear to have very seriously digressed but, yes, I don't want to choose my favourite bus but I probably have.

I blame Frank Grice, the then traffic manager.  "Would you like to learn to drive, young man?"