What links a scribe's rudimentary '70s transport with an inspiring education initiative?

I can only assume Max Verstappen has misplaced my number. I could have told him a thing or two about juddering starts and preserving battery power when it matters. You see, I spent a couple of years in the early 1970s driving (happily, I should add) a 1200cc Volkswagen Beetle. 

The relevant point here is that this 1964 model had a six-volt battery – as standard. For a ‘People’s Car’ that was meant to last for yonks, VW clearly didn’t intend to get you there quickly. Or see where you were going. Driving the Beetle required cunning and a degree in mechanical juggling while coping with an electrical output that wouldn’t power Adrian Newey’s pencil sharpener (especially, I fancy, when coping with massive use in recent months).

For starters (literally), it was preferable to park overnight on a slope, facing downhill. The battery, particularly in winter, could not be relied upon to muster enough energy to bring the air-cooled flat-four to life. Gravity – and a push from a flatmate or neighbour – was necessary to begin the process of bump-starting in second gear.

Listening to the weather forecast was also a prerequisite since rain would, of course, call for the use of windscreen wipers. These moved agonisingly slowly. Their speed would increase in accompaniment with engine output, thus creating the dilemma of accelerating into the murk in the hope of eventually seeing the way ahead.

And that was in daylight. Forget about night driving. The imaginatively named ‘headlights’ emitted a soft yellow glow that would dim if the wipers were coaxed into use. And don’t even think about turning on the radio. The sound of music would be drowned by anxious cries (mainly from the front-seat passenger) as forward vision became a stab in the dark.

Saying all that, I can now reveal that I used the Beetle to lap Oulton Park. In the dark. This was on the occasion of a Formula 2 meeting in September 1972. I’d been staying with my mate and fellow motor racing nut, John Taylor, in the nearby Red Lion in Little Budworth. The landlord had tipped us off that the Mid Cheshire Motor Racing Club was running a party for drivers and entrants in the circuit bar. 

Blagging our way in to join the likes of Graham Hill, James Hunt and most of the F3 and British Saloon Car fields proved easy. You could tell it was an informal occasion by the floor being awash with Robinsons Best Bitter as the evening roared to a close. 

Making our way towards the Beetle, we noticed the paddock/pit gate had been left open. It would have been sensible not to. But, hey. Having snuck in the previous year for a lap of Oulton in daylight, we were super-confident. Heading into Old Hall at all of 45mph proved straightforward enough. Then we sensed a problem accelerating down The Avenue. It was pitch black. This led to a regular conversation between passenger and driver in any six-volt Beetle. 

Hamilton strikes a pose with his venerable vee-dub. Note the supplementary bumper-mounted lighting

Photo by: Maurice Hamilton

“Fer gawd’s sake, put your bloody lights on!” 

“They are on, mate!” 

That’s when I remembered a spotlight I had fitted to a front-bumper bracket to overcome this very problem. Unfortunately, a few moments earlier while leaning forward to open the front boot, I had momentarily lost my balance and steadied myself by falling onto the spotlight. My subsequent moment of triumph in flicking the switch was immediately trashed by the beam illuminating the trees overhead, but nothing of the race track. 

John thought this was hysterical. Less so when we went off the road after failing to negotiate the entry to Cascades. If nothing else, the Beetle was a robust machine and took us sheepishly and slowly on the remainder of the lap and the mercifully short return journey to the pub. 

I kept that story to myself recently when attending a Greenpower gala dinner at Goodwood. If you want to talk about maximising battery power, these are the people to speak to. Some of them are barely out of school. The majority are in school. Which is the central point of a remarkably inventive series that has been running for more than 25 years. 

Regulatory freedom allows fly-by-wire throttles, data loggers and telemetry. You’ll see injection moulded bodywork and plywood chassis involving vacuum bagging and curing, just like carbon composite

The Greenpower Education Trust was formed to encourage school kids to investigate technical skills that were fast disappearing. The charity prescribed a formula to embrace an electric motor, a battery and a chassis frame. Ingenuity and initiative would do the rest. The result has been nimble little racers built to a standard you wouldn’t believe.

Regulatory freedom allows fly-by-wire throttles, data loggers and telemetry. You’ll see injection moulded bodywork and plywood chassis involving vacuum bagging and curing, just like carbon composite. Lightweight, clever – but also inexpensive and respecting sustainability and the environment.

Ishraq Chowdhury from Tower Hamlets has Greenpower to thank for starting a journey that currently means he is working as a third-year engineering degree apprentice at Ford Motor Company while studying Mechanical Engineering at the University of Greenwich. 

This is a typical Greenpower story initiated by a study of aerodynamic drag, rolling resistance and coaxing a battery to cover 120 miles while racing at an average 30mph. These cars can reach 50mph with a following wind. Just like a 1200cc Beetle on a dry day – but with no musical accompaniment, of course.

This article is one of many in the monthly Autosport magazine. For more premium content, take a look at the May 2026 issue and subscribe today. 

Work of the Greenpower Education Trust encourages young people’s ingenuity and initiative

Photo by: James Lynch