What started it for you?
Discussion
To me my love of all things petrol goes back to when I was four or five and travelled around in the back of either the old mans or grandfathers various chariots.
Today the first magazine purchase of the moth is still Classic Car, Classic and Sports Car and now of course Octane to read about the cars that started things off. Now I’m going to have a wild stab in the dark and say the same applies for most of you good folk, particularly when I read about the Mercedes 450 SEL 6.9 below.
So let’s have the one defining moment which started things off
At the age of 7 I remember being in the old mans 2.7 RS on the then new dual carriageway through Bury St Edmunds when we were overtaken my no less than a 450 SEL 6.9. Until then I wasn’t sure why the old man doted on that noisy uncomfortable brute but then it became oh so clear. First time past 150 and a 6.9 not quite as omnipotent as he was 5 minutes earlier
Just imagine if it had never happened, I might be into Rambling…………….
Today the first magazine purchase of the moth is still Classic Car, Classic and Sports Car and now of course Octane to read about the cars that started things off. Now I’m going to have a wild stab in the dark and say the same applies for most of you good folk, particularly when I read about the Mercedes 450 SEL 6.9 below.
So let’s have the one defining moment which started things off
At the age of 7 I remember being in the old mans 2.7 RS on the then new dual carriageway through Bury St Edmunds when we were overtaken my no less than a 450 SEL 6.9. Until then I wasn’t sure why the old man doted on that noisy uncomfortable brute but then it became oh so clear. First time past 150 and a 6.9 not quite as omnipotent as he was 5 minutes earlier
Just imagine if it had never happened, I might be into Rambling…………….
Some of my earliest memories are of Karting with my Dad - the smell of Castrol R. Wasn't really into cars as a boy - lorries, locomotives, and aeroplanes were my thing, and Dad was into the whole traction engine thing too. I was "turned" when I learned to drive, and my fate was sealed the first time I heard/saw a TR6 accelerate away from a junction, and the first time I saw/heard an Audi Quattro (rallying). All downhill from there really.
I have a few vivid childhood memories.
My dad having a bit if a dice with a TR7 whilst driving a Fiat 124 saloon (1400 twin cam) and managing to outdrive the TR7, the owner gave us a freindly wave.
Also memories of the Skoda 110 he had blowing up on the M1.
He taught me to drive in an Austin 1800.
Mum had a series of exotic cars throughout the seventies, Corvette, Citroen SM Maserati, another Corvette.
My stepfather had various RR's and Mercedes, including a 450SLC.
My dad having a bit if a dice with a TR7 whilst driving a Fiat 124 saloon (1400 twin cam) and managing to outdrive the TR7, the owner gave us a freindly wave.
Also memories of the Skoda 110 he had blowing up on the M1.
He taught me to drive in an Austin 1800.
Mum had a series of exotic cars throughout the seventies, Corvette, Citroen SM Maserati, another Corvette.
My stepfather had various RR's and Mercedes, including a 450SLC.
Funny really - family of petrolheads on my Dad's side, family of lentilists on my Mum's side. Thank God I took after my Dad, and remind me never to marry a lentilist, I'll never be happy!
Basically, my Dad has a love of all things mechanical - vintage/classic cars, steam trains, heavy industry, architecture (architect), a sort of polite version of Jeremy Clarkson, without the actual cars, if you will.
I always got taken to classic car shows. In fact I can remember the very first one: I was about 4 or 5, it was at Quaffers in Bredbury, and it was there I gained a love of Bentleys. When the latest automotive pin-up was the Ferrari F40, I had posters of Bentley 3-Litre Le Mans Tourers.
Obviously I've progressed now, into the era of my own youth, but have found myself 'old-fashioned' again, as I like my cars wedgy, cramped, angular and unassisted, and no-one (other than PHers!) understands me.
Basically, my Dad has a love of all things mechanical - vintage/classic cars, steam trains, heavy industry, architecture (architect), a sort of polite version of Jeremy Clarkson, without the actual cars, if you will.
I always got taken to classic car shows. In fact I can remember the very first one: I was about 4 or 5, it was at Quaffers in Bredbury, and it was there I gained a love of Bentleys. When the latest automotive pin-up was the Ferrari F40, I had posters of Bentley 3-Litre Le Mans Tourers.
Obviously I've progressed now, into the era of my own youth, but have found myself 'old-fashioned' again, as I like my cars wedgy, cramped, angular and unassisted, and no-one (other than PHers!) understands me.
I think I'm a bit older than some of you on this post so my early memories are of being driven to the Trossachs in my Uncle John's new Austin A50, which although hardly exotic was a beautifully made car with Connolly hide and Wilton carpet, and I can still remember that smell to this day and the excitement of driving in the country and up into the mountains.
But one of my best memories was of my dad's first Jaguar, a '59 Mk 9 3.8 litre.
It had a manual 'box with overdrive and was black over mist grey with light grey leather and fitted lambswool rugs.
I can still remember the whine of the straight cut gears on the Moss 'box and the purr of the twin cam six cylinder.
By God, could that car motor, it was just so beautiful to travel in, you didn't want your journey to end!
But one of my best memories was of my dad's first Jaguar, a '59 Mk 9 3.8 litre.
It had a manual 'box with overdrive and was black over mist grey with light grey leather and fitted lambswool rugs.
I can still remember the whine of the straight cut gears on the Moss 'box and the purr of the twin cam six cylinder.
By God, could that car motor, it was just so beautiful to travel in, you didn't want your journey to end!
I learnt to read some time before I went to school, and one of the books I was fond of contained detailed exploded diagrams of a "traditional" separate-chassis sidevalve car along with detailed but clear explanations of how it all worked. I was also fond of reading the Highway Code. "Remember - Mirror - Signal - Manoeuvre" (which I thought was pronounced "man-o-urv" and it took me a while to twig what it meant). My Mum sometimes recounts how boring she found it reading to me before I learnt to do it myself - she wasn't really into "How it Works - The Locomotive (diesel and electric)".
Dad had a wonderful lawnmower, an Atco 36" cylinder mower with all its shafts and chain-and-sprocket drives exposed and whizzing round in a fascinating way. It was powered by a big thumper of a two-stroke engine, which carried its fuel in a cylindrical tank perched on top of the cylinder and was started by sticking a handle into the end of one of the shafts and cranking. I loved this machine. After a while the exhaust disintegrated beyond recovery and a replacement proved unobtainable, so we ended up with a whole replacement mower, identical apart from having a big thumper four-stroke, sidevalve, exposed valve springs, with separate compartments for fuel and oil in the cylindrical tank and a drip-feed lubrication system. They looked similar to this, but a lot bigger:
Neither Mum nor Dad ever displayed any interest in driving for its own sake and we never had an interesting car, though I vaguely remember playing in an MG Tsomething, Dad's pre-family-days car, which was rotting gently behind the shed. Indeed, in my teens I became a rabidly anti-car lentilist. I did, however, take my driving test on the grounds of driving being an essential skill in this age. Once I was able to do it, it didn't take me long to realise that it was fun
I also managed to grow up with the conviction that bikers were subhuman moronic suicide-merchant scum. I hesitate to blame my parents for this but unfortunately cannot escape the conclusion that it stems from the disparaging comments I heard from both of them on the subject of motorbikes for as long as I can remember. Perhaps they were just worried that I would develop an enthusiasm for them and smash myself up. Fortunately it wasn't too long before the presence of a couple of keen bikers among those I was working with repaired my attitude before it did too much damage, and I came to realise that bikes were even more fun, and cheaper with it.
Undoubtedly the major factor is my lifelong enthusiasm for machinery of all types; I definitely still consider that a car/bike isn't a proper car/bike if I can't fiddle with it as well as drive it, and put bits of other vehicles on it either to fix it or make it go faster.
Dad had a wonderful lawnmower, an Atco 36" cylinder mower with all its shafts and chain-and-sprocket drives exposed and whizzing round in a fascinating way. It was powered by a big thumper of a two-stroke engine, which carried its fuel in a cylindrical tank perched on top of the cylinder and was started by sticking a handle into the end of one of the shafts and cranking. I loved this machine. After a while the exhaust disintegrated beyond recovery and a replacement proved unobtainable, so we ended up with a whole replacement mower, identical apart from having a big thumper four-stroke, sidevalve, exposed valve springs, with separate compartments for fuel and oil in the cylindrical tank and a drip-feed lubrication system. They looked similar to this, but a lot bigger:
Neither Mum nor Dad ever displayed any interest in driving for its own sake and we never had an interesting car, though I vaguely remember playing in an MG Tsomething, Dad's pre-family-days car, which was rotting gently behind the shed. Indeed, in my teens I became a rabidly anti-car lentilist. I did, however, take my driving test on the grounds of driving being an essential skill in this age. Once I was able to do it, it didn't take me long to realise that it was fun
I also managed to grow up with the conviction that bikers were subhuman moronic suicide-merchant scum. I hesitate to blame my parents for this but unfortunately cannot escape the conclusion that it stems from the disparaging comments I heard from both of them on the subject of motorbikes for as long as I can remember. Perhaps they were just worried that I would develop an enthusiasm for them and smash myself up. Fortunately it wasn't too long before the presence of a couple of keen bikers among those I was working with repaired my attitude before it did too much damage, and I came to realise that bikes were even more fun, and cheaper with it.
Undoubtedly the major factor is my lifelong enthusiasm for machinery of all types; I definitely still consider that a car/bike isn't a proper car/bike if I can't fiddle with it as well as drive it, and put bits of other vehicles on it either to fix it or make it go faster.
My Father would'nt buy a car so my first experience was in my own first car, Vauxhall Cresta PA Automatic, cost me £95 and lasted 3 months. But I was hooked when I heard the banshee wail of Mike Hailwood on the Honda 250 6. Awesome.
I have done my best to bring my Son up to be a petrolhead. He was driving my 450 SEAC when he was 14
:, loves speed, Karts, motorbikes, TVR, and has just purchased his first puka track bike. So now I am concerned for his welfare, its all my fault he tells me 
SUCCESS
I have done my best to bring my Son up to be a petrolhead. He was driving my 450 SEAC when he was 14
:, loves speed, Karts, motorbikes, TVR, and has just purchased his first puka track bike. So now I am concerned for his welfare, its all my fault he tells me SUCCESS
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