On David's suggestion I have moved this over from the Forum in order to get more exposure. We have had 70+ click thru to the other location and only one person took the 5 minutes to write anything down so here we go again. Let's hear about your first time.
OK, so we are in the new year and I went and purchased too many of the British Saloon Car Club of Canada 2007 calendars. Could be because I landed a spot in June with a great photo by Bob Earl with the Jaguar when in PEI, WOW. So here is the deal. In an effort to get more of you lookers participating in the forum you must write a little story entitled:
"MY FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH AN ENGLISH MOTOR CAR"Any Takers??????????????
Ralph
1 comment:
I do not recall when the love affair began, just seems it always was. Perhaps it started with a 1968 Morgan, driven by a cool young Elementary School Principal, followed by summers searching highways in hopes of a glimpse of one of those little roadsters. Maybe it was hearing stories of how an old family friend traded his Caddie for a TR6 during a mid-life crisis; who knows but the seed was planted.
I recall discovering a TR6 in a tumbled down garage; frame bent, in need of a total rebuild, but oh how I wanted it. Logic ruled and it remained there for years; still can’t pass by that old garage without longingly glancing in.
I knew I was smitten when the highlight of a cultural event was the discovery of a roadster in the parking lot. Then there was a TR3 at a local garage – a missed opportunity.
The day finally arrived when money became available for a toy. In the days before the internet, hours were spent in the local library, studying newspapers from across the country, in search of a TR6 in my price range. With a list of potential Triumphs and a map, I climbed into my trusty Renault R5, determined not to return empty handed.
If you have not walked away from an opportunity only to realize later you made a big mistake, you are fortunate or in denial. Into this category falls the discovery of a late model TR6 at a Jaguar dealership in Montreal, priced right, good solid car, dealer motivated to sell, however, a dead battery caused the car to refuse to start, followed by a heater hose blowing; we moved on.
Other prospects were considered and dismissed. In my determination not to return home empty handed, a vermillion, TR7 Drop Head Coupe was discovered. Was a TR7 in my sights . . . no; sometimes one just steps outside the box. Other than the speedo cable falling off, the journey home was virtually without incident.
We quickly discovered that British cars have personality. In the 5 years following that uneventful commute to New Brunswick, the “7” failed to complete even a local run without a roadside repair or a tow. Once a motorist frantically waved us down to let us know that flames were coming out of the exhaust. This fire breathing monster was still running; flames were of little concern.
But good things come to those who wait. When a kindly older gentleman offered to let me sit in his TR3, my heart flipped . . . the hunt was on again. This time I would not be distracted.
Karen J.
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