Ashby Folville Sept 09.

An early departure from the City saw me parked, in the Jeep, on the hallowed turf of Ashby Folville Cricket Club at 5.45. 10 minutes later the field was full and others had to park in the field opposite. The usual eclectic mix of bikes and cars, but a delightful Messerschmitt took my fancy behind the pub. I had one of these in 1969 and made the colossal mistake of selling it, running and with an MOT, for fifteen quid! This one would be worth about £9,000 now. Mine, as any expert will see, was the earlier KR 175. That's a 16 year old me with eye wide shut snapped by my Dad on a new Polaroid camera. The big Yank Tank was built of steel that, even without paint, was so thick it will never rust. A group of us stayed until about 9.00 pm, by which time it was dark and a bit chilly. A brisk dash south on the B6047 was most rewarding. No screen, eyes streaming teeth full of flies from grinning too much, then overtaken by The Thunderbug which disappeared very quickly leaving nothing more than a whiff of Casrol ‘R’ diminishing roar of big V twin. Good fun!

One Wheel Drive.

Before an interest in 4x4’s took a grip, my sole passion was 3x1’s. I had a few, Messerschmitt, Isetta and finally this Hienkel built under license in the U.K. and badged as a Trojan. Myself and the Mk 1 wife, on a budget of nothing, went camping in Wales. Our tent was the simple affair amongst the big frame tents that dominated the camp site. I had a lot of use out of the Trojan, commuting up and down to Salisbury, where I was at Art College, from Leicestershire and averaging 80 mpg! This particular jaunt to Wales went pretty smoothly until 5 miles from home on the return journey. I was thrashing it at a heady 50 mph and the exhaust valve burnt out. With only one cylinder, that was that and Dad came to tow us in.

Hubble Bubble toil and trouble.

It was in the summer of ‘69. A Messerschmitt KR 175 swapped for £3 and a BSA B31 single, in bits, from a chap called ‘Stocker’ in Measham, who had it abandoned in his garden. This is what started it all. I cleaned it up, painted it yellow and hit the road, with my Mum in the back giving me ‘lessons’. She must have been terrified! It was a 1953 Cabin Scooter and I still have the number plate here in the garage, LDR 509. The photo was taken by Dad on one of those new Polaroid cameras. It was, of course, only 16 years old then and parts were easy enough to get from an outfit called Pride and Clark, in that London. Big ad in the back page of Exchange & Mart. Cue Diplo & A F-A. I didn’t have the Messy shit long and was thrilled to get £15 when I sold it a few months later to replace it with an Isetta Bubble car. Now it would be worth several thousand. There are some very funny vids on Youtube of others.