Clunkers

Post by **dtaai-maai** » Sat Aug 23, 2008 1:44 am

My first memory of a car was my father's Ford Consul, WXY 410, in the early 60s when I would have been about 5-6 years old (considerably younger than the car). The driver's door was held shut by a bit of wood wedged though the arm rest in the door. The wipers were encouraged to operate by a piece of string pulled by the passenger. My father, as you have no doubt observed, was a technical genius. I loved it.

My own first car was an old Austin Cambridge in 1975. Cost me 160 quid. I was robbed, but never mind. Leather seats, walnut dash, and steering like a long-tail boat. Still had the crank handle in case of a flat battery, which came in handy more than once. Aged 18 I drove it to Bordeaux in a January blizzard. The wipers packed up halfway, and I finished the journey hanging out the window with a pair of (cleanish) underpants over my head to stop my ears dropping off.

Fond memories of a Sunbeam Rapier in the late 70s-early 80s. Overdrive - hey, well cool. Got rid of it when it developed a petrol tank leak outside a friend's house in Earlsfield, South London. 3 inches of petrol in the boot and lots of laughs from the local fire brigade.

A late 70s Cavalier that got shunted over the cliff above Folkestone by 'the storm' in 87. No great loss, frankly, though it did manage 65 round a round-about outside Birmingham in 1984.

A mini called Clarissa. Well past her sell-by date, but I loved her in spite of all her faults. Unfortunately she left me along with my second wife, leaving me the brand new but far less interesting Skoda...

My first bike was a 250 Yamaha, don't ask me what model, bought in the days when you learned to ride by sticking L plates on it and finding a nice, straightish, quiet stretch of road. I was born again aged 40, early mid-life crisis (soon after Clarissa left me, funnily enough

) and rode a Suzuki 750 Marauder down to Bordeaux (yup, retracing my steps 20 years later). Should have stuck to admiring myself in shop windows in Dover. I bought it 2nd hand, without wondering why there was insulating tape wrapped around every bit of bare metal. Unsurprisingly it turned out that there was an unidentifiable electrical fault, and the bloody thing kept cutting out, usually in the middle of nowhere when it was pissing down.

Fortunately I was able to trade it in for a Suzuki GSX-R750 - yes, boring, I know, but it was all I could afford. Anyway, 140mph (only once, at 6 a.m. on an empty M2) seemed more than enough for me. And 3 years later it paid for my trip here, so it was worth its weight in gold.