I have avoided this topic so far as it is slightly irrelevant to me. But just for the record, the Commer once pulled an inicated 77mph, down hill just morth of LM. Tweaking the testicles of terror and laughing in the face of death, I floored it and held it flat on a mild downhill lefthander. A mate in a car behind said his speedo was showning 70 mph (just) and I was pretty bloody impressed, less so my terrified passengers, who screamed at me to slow down as we weaved across all three lanes and I manfully wrestled with the steering wheel.
However, going up the hill on the other side of the valley, we were very quickly back down to about 20, so not really any point in the exercise. Although my senses had been slightly dulled by the activities of the preceding days, I'm convinced there's more speed to come. And if I can wring 70 out of the C, I'm prepared to believe the "fishermans' tales" above. BTW, I hear Big H like to suck a fishermans' friend at Cherbourg docks before the sail home. Apparently it helps settle his tummy.
