So, a padre of mine, one Richard (who has been mentioned many times previous on here) recently went to the title mentioned event and took some snaps with his camrangle device.  The results are very pleasant.  As you can imagine there were more moderns than classics but the classics that did attend are well worth a gander so I figured I would throw a few up here onto RC and you can scope the rest of the attendees via his flickr account.

Toyota Celica in Period Attire

BMW 2002ti in resplendant orange glory

Datsun 1200 Rally Car

Photographs: Richard Opie

-Michael

I don’t really recall a lot of what happened on the subsequent day from arrival. I spent the morning backwards and forward to areas containing either porcelain or duvet, it wasn’t until later in the afternoon that I recovered enough for the night ahead. For me it was a quiet one, for others (especially some late comers) it was quite a hectic one that involved some serious catch-up and the inevitable doom that comes part and parcel with it.

The morning of events dawned, I felt much better that day than the previous and so getting up and enjoying some breakfast and sparkle yelling at people to sort their vehicles at was nothing my head couldn’t handle. The first event of the day was touted as a sedate cruise to our later point of automotive activity. (For some this proved to not be the case at all.) We got everyone organised to depart and littered the gravel driveway of the camp with our eclectic garner of fine steeds.

Morning Steam, Coffee.. and Cream

The majority managed the cruise without ill affect and despite a few niggles with sparkles initial plan and the reality of early morning children’s sports we made our way to enough of a lay away that the majority of cars could park in the one point for a small photographic opportunity, as such;

Convoooooooy!

From here we carried on through some magical scenery, annoying the crap out of any car waiting at an intersection as it would have to wait for some 40 cars to pass before it could merge into what would normally be a quiet piece of highway.  It was during this cruise that I longed the most for my pathetic piece of swiss-cheesed steel known on this site as the 110-Project, however being the navigator for the cruise co-ordinator did the trick well enough and allowed me to dangerously hang out the window in the rain to take photos like an idiot.

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…we rolled alongside the policeman, 3 up in a popping, farting 323 wagon, slammed, with wide steels up front and spare wheels on the back.  I can only imagine the thoughts going through the policeman’s head. “I’ll fucking have you, mate”.  He propped the breath tester towards Bistro’s mouth and gave the command, the result of course came back clear,  he then flicked his torch across the warrant and registration stickers, both legit.  He ushered us on.  Relief was at an all time high.  That said, there was a  certain supercharged Datsun 1200 behind us that the driver was equally as concerned about.  Thankfully our convoy all made it through and after a quick toilet break we continued our voyage onwards to the valley and the camp.

The darkness made the drive in the wagon that much more hilarious.  It wasn’t until we got to the camp some time later that I cracked the camera out again to take a photo of the exploded muffler.

Muffless

The amount of over-run we were getting on the winding hills into the campsite was simply hilarious.  I’m sure on the decel down one of the hills it jsut didn’t stop popping, at all.  Super amusing and must have sounded just as disgusting/funny from the outside as it did from inside.  Drive completed we got on it.  There was several car loads of people there already and we had some drinking to do, to equalise our level of merriness with those already there.

The subsequent morning dawned and an illness to go with it.  Partially drink induced and I think partially the lunch from the day previous with my nephew.  That said there was more catching up and greeting to do.  I wandered about squinting in the morning/early afternoon light and took a few quick snaps with my point and shoot of the early attendees.

People came from all around...

With varied metal on rubber hooves.

Unfortunately due to wetness, the grass was evacuated later

Not a bad line-up considering the event really didn’t get into full swing for another day yet.  Such is the way of oldschool, a day of extra catching up and shenanigans goes down well with all members.

Ford, Mazda, Fiat, Subaru, Hillman, Triumph, Datsun, Holden, Isuzu, Mitsubishi, Toyota, Honda, Volvo & Vauxhall all with representatives attending thus far and the variation was only to grow in both model and manufacturer.  Good times imminent and inevitable.

-Michael

With the car good to go other than an exploded rear muffler, we headed to the meeting point of the Ferry Terminal to wait for the other South Island lads who had convoyed up from Christchurch during the day and been stuck waiting for a delayed ferry before enduring the boredom of the strait crossing.  We waited in the darkness or the carpark;

Spooky.

The Lancer to the right of the shot was part of the Wellington convoy, as was a late model BMW carrying some spanners.  Whilst standing in the darkness we had the pleasure of a conversation with an older gent who took a shine to the 323, he told up of how he put a Toyota V8 in his one and proceeded to go a million miles an hour or some lark, he was quite an amusing chap and it sounded as though he had built it in his shed.  He visited us twice during the evening, the second time was when Beaver showed up to say hello in his Avenger, a model of car this gentleman had also owned and done something with.  The ferry finally barfed all it’s freight and cars onto the northern island and the rest of our convoy was ready to go.  Mitsubishi Lancer, Mazda 323, Datsun 1200, Ford B2000, Ford Escort MkII & a modern BMW 520i.

The estate managed to get all of 70kms before the tube inside the ‘goon’s L/R tyre decided to commit suicide.  We pulled over and proceeded to change both rear wheels, given that the diameter difference was so large between the regular rollers and the spares it was the only option and Biz had specifically brought along 2 spares for this very occurrence, after changing them though we soon found out how terrible a condition the spare wheels were in, the wagon almost took on a life of it’s own with the rear end squirming about as though it was trapped in a diaper full of misgivings.  We made a stop in Levin to check air pressure, discovering that one was quite low we topped it up and found.. much the same problem.  This meant the voyage to Pohangina Valley would be a slow and precarious one.  The journey continued with a misfiring, backfiring, rear end wobbling estate tagging along with the rest of the perfectly running vehicles.

Unexpectedly, we started rolling into Palmerston North.  This was odd given that the quickest route to our destination avoided the place entirely and P. Norf is known for it’s “boy racers” and thereby the countering police force tasked with stopping them.  Normally this would be an issue but a hole in it’s rear muffler the wagon was barking louder than a rottweiler in an impound lot.  We cautiously followed the pack.. we were headed right through the centre of town ( a square, as it happens) we turned the corner and you guessed it…  Checkpoint.

-Michael