Classicaraddict did meet Classic Britain, more than once… The last time resulting in a 350 mile drive in Tug towing a trailer.
Bel went to Devon 3 times in 2 days at the end June. The last time was accidental when it appeared that my wallet was dropped at Ashburton petrol station after we picked up an Austin Maxi for my brother.
Both last Sunday and Tuesday previously there was a sense something is not right…
After picking the Maxi from South Devon we made our way down the A38 and back into Cornwall and headed towards my dear friend’s house at Trevelmond near Dobwells. Just as I pulled past him to so he could follow me the final couple of miles of course we stopped…
There is a rule of thumb when it comes to helping people get cars is that as soon as you can smell the kettle, or think that you might get to the chip shop before it closes the gremlins pick their moment to strike.
In this case, he turned the wipers on and one fell off… Having retrieved that one and almost reaching insight of the steam off the kettle, we pull over again. The front brake was sticking…Something that did not surprise me. We did make it and spent the next hour sorting the brake caliper. We then left to head home.
As my brother followed me down the 1-mile single lane road towards the main road my internal radar started to ping. Where was my wallet? As my heart started to race, a frantic search of the car soon revealed that it wasn’t there. I sent my brother west, telling him once again to drive very carefully. I then when to the two places we stopped on the bypass to check to if my wallet had fallen out. (It hadn’t)
Then I played the memory game, ringing petrol stations that we had stopped at, until I rang the nice people at Ashburton petrol station, the time was 8.05 pm.
They asked for my name, yes we have it here, here being 45 miles away. They also said I’d never make it. All I can say is that clearly, they never have driven an MX5. They are not fastest cars outright, but for covering ground quickly and safely, they are amazing.
I did make it with shall I say a little time to spare…
After popping in to see my friend Jude who lives close by I then headed home down the A30 with the roof down. The stars only being interrupted by the occasional fog bank. The last of which the car following me at safe distance turned out to be a police one.
I’m not sure what gut instinct is, or that sense of something is not right. When it strikes, I’ve learned to pay attention. For instance, Sheldon from Classic Britain wanted to take his Rover P6 to get some parts the following Sunday. Despite the extra fuel expense, we used Tug my little Suzuki Vitara. I knew that we would make it, with his car I could not be sure.
There will be another blog post on that after Sheldon edits the footage he took of the day.
Part of gut instinct is to think about what you want to achieve and then look to see what can go wrong and try to eliminate as many as possible. Like carrying a spare fan belt….Oh, bugger….