Thats some motor....
any regrets !!!Rich...
Help - my old Hemi Charger
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I knew you'd come up trumps guys - thanks.
Referring to Dave's McB’s picture in 2002, it was taken outside Hertford North station. We all met up at Blue's place and it was the very first time that I got to meet the Essex lads.
Now you have to remember that I was a show and shine guy who used to spend 95% of his time sitting next to his car watching the world go by and worrying about my date coded exhaust clamps getting dusty. Drag racing.......... that was for the other guys.
When I arrived at Blue's, the first person I met was Dave McB - seemed like a nice chap I thought, a gentle Irish lilt which was impossible to hear at the best of times and when I did hear him I didn’t understand what he was saying anyway. I tried lip-reading but that didn’t help either - he had a nice Charger though. While I’m nodding my head and saying yeah to everything Dave says, I hear the distant rumble of V8s – the rest of the Essex boys were arriving. First around the corner was Paul Worrow followed by Kev with Philth brining up the rear. Out gets Paul dressed in a German tank commander’s jacket complete with hat and goggles. Kev appears next resplendent in a ridiculously loud Hawaiian shirt, shorts, Doc Martins, earrings (natch) and a cowboy hat. Philth was a little more conservative in comparison.
After handshakes and greetings we set off for the Nats with Blue taking lead in a blue Barracuda (is that the one that eventually became Pete’s Sox car – damn my memory is going). After about 500 yards we got split up, found each other again at Herford station where Dave shot the pic and then started off again.
Now as we all know, there are various routes to Santa Pod but the one Blue likes the best is the one that takes you right through the middle of Bedford town centre at the busiest time possible. Subsequently, we got caught in a horrendous traffic jam and the inevitable overheating issues began. Although we were all driving individually I think I can say that collectively we were all calling Blue rude names. My gauge was well into the red and just as I was about to pull over the jam cleared and we made it to the Pod without any more drama. However, upon arrival Paul came out with a barrage of colourful four-letter words strung into very eloquent sentences the like I’d never heard before – all directed at Blue. Thankfully there was little or no retort from Blue but merely the shrug of his shoulders. I was later to learn that this was the norm between the two of them.
I can’t quite remember if it was the Friday or Saturday night but Nipper (where’s he now?) invited us over to his tent for a few beers. I say tent but it was more like a mini-camp – TV, fridge-freezer etc....................but it was all outside. So, armed with a tonne of beers that I could hardly carry I grabbed a chair and sat down with the rest of the chaps in front of the hurricane proof telly. I guess I was half expecting we’d be watching some drag racing, some porn perhaps or even a cult movie of some kind. But no, none of that, none of that at all. What I did get to watch were a bunch of blokes morris dancing dressed up in rubber, leather, chains, piercings and goodness knows what else. Now I consider myself an open-minded sort of person but sitting around a telly with twelve other blokes watching grown men prancing around dressed in rubber gave me a sort of, well, uneasy feeling really.
I can’t remember who it was that whispered in my ear but what I was watching was a video of Kev and his mates on a tv show. Now you have to remember that I’d only met Kev a few hours earlier and what I was watching was just the tip of the iceberg of further things to experience in the years to come – good on yer mate!
The rest of the evening was very much a blur. What I do remember was waking up in the morning covered in charcoal, grease and what looked like bacon rind. I can only assume that I’d fallen into a bar-b-cue while trying to find my tent. Happy days!
Referring to Dave's McB’s picture in 2002, it was taken outside Hertford North station. We all met up at Blue's place and it was the very first time that I got to meet the Essex lads.
Now you have to remember that I was a show and shine guy who used to spend 95% of his time sitting next to his car watching the world go by and worrying about my date coded exhaust clamps getting dusty. Drag racing.......... that was for the other guys.
When I arrived at Blue's, the first person I met was Dave McB - seemed like a nice chap I thought, a gentle Irish lilt which was impossible to hear at the best of times and when I did hear him I didn’t understand what he was saying anyway. I tried lip-reading but that didn’t help either - he had a nice Charger though. While I’m nodding my head and saying yeah to everything Dave says, I hear the distant rumble of V8s – the rest of the Essex boys were arriving. First around the corner was Paul Worrow followed by Kev with Philth brining up the rear. Out gets Paul dressed in a German tank commander’s jacket complete with hat and goggles. Kev appears next resplendent in a ridiculously loud Hawaiian shirt, shorts, Doc Martins, earrings (natch) and a cowboy hat. Philth was a little more conservative in comparison.
After handshakes and greetings we set off for the Nats with Blue taking lead in a blue Barracuda (is that the one that eventually became Pete’s Sox car – damn my memory is going). After about 500 yards we got split up, found each other again at Herford station where Dave shot the pic and then started off again.
Now as we all know, there are various routes to Santa Pod but the one Blue likes the best is the one that takes you right through the middle of Bedford town centre at the busiest time possible. Subsequently, we got caught in a horrendous traffic jam and the inevitable overheating issues began. Although we were all driving individually I think I can say that collectively we were all calling Blue rude names. My gauge was well into the red and just as I was about to pull over the jam cleared and we made it to the Pod without any more drama. However, upon arrival Paul came out with a barrage of colourful four-letter words strung into very eloquent sentences the like I’d never heard before – all directed at Blue. Thankfully there was little or no retort from Blue but merely the shrug of his shoulders. I was later to learn that this was the norm between the two of them.
I can’t quite remember if it was the Friday or Saturday night but Nipper (where’s he now?) invited us over to his tent for a few beers. I say tent but it was more like a mini-camp – TV, fridge-freezer etc....................but it was all outside. So, armed with a tonne of beers that I could hardly carry I grabbed a chair and sat down with the rest of the chaps in front of the hurricane proof telly. I guess I was half expecting we’d be watching some drag racing, some porn perhaps or even a cult movie of some kind. But no, none of that, none of that at all. What I did get to watch were a bunch of blokes morris dancing dressed up in rubber, leather, chains, piercings and goodness knows what else. Now I consider myself an open-minded sort of person but sitting around a telly with twelve other blokes watching grown men prancing around dressed in rubber gave me a sort of, well, uneasy feeling really.
I can’t remember who it was that whispered in my ear but what I was watching was a video of Kev and his mates on a tv show. Now you have to remember that I’d only met Kev a few hours earlier and what I was watching was just the tip of the iceberg of further things to experience in the years to come – good on yer mate!
The rest of the evening was very much a blur. What I do remember was waking up in the morning covered in charcoal, grease and what looked like bacon rind. I can only assume that I’d fallen into a bar-b-cue while trying to find my tent. Happy days!
"Nah!"
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Anonymous
BrilliantJem wrote:
the first person I met was Dave McB - seemed like a nice chap I thought, a gentle Irish lilt which was impossible to hear at the best of times and when I did hear him I didn’t understand what he was saying anyway
Paul Worrow dressed in a German tank commander’s jacket complete with hat and goggles.
Kev appears next resplendent in a ridiculously loud Hawaiian shirt, shorts, Doc Martins, earrings (natch) and a cowboy hat.
Philth was a little more conservative in comparison.
Fantastic discripitions Jem
Sorry Dave but the answer is unfortunately no! Please, please don't take offense but even when I concentrate really hard I still only catch about 50% of what you're saying - and that's on a good day. When there's drag racing going on at the same time, the best I can manage is a polite smile with a few 'yeahs' thrown in for good measure and cross my fingers that I'm responding correctly. Wouldn't change you for the world though mate!!DrogoBroadband wrote:It's all coming back to me now Jem
Can you understand me any better now, I have had 8 years more practice since then
"Nah!"
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Dave-R
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I remember that night. I remember you sitting in that chair too Jem. You were slaughtered!Jem wrote: So, armed with a tonne of beers that I could hardly carry I grabbed a chair and sat down with the rest of the chaps in front of the hurricane proof telly. I guess I was half expecting we’d be watching some drag racing, some porn perhaps or even a cult movie of some kind. But no, none of that, none of that at all. What I did get to watch were a bunch of blokes morris dancing dressed up in rubber, leather, chains, piercings and goodness knows what else. Now I consider myself an open-minded sort of person but sitting around a telly with twelve other blokes watching grown men prancing around dressed in rubber gave me a sort of, well, uneasy feeling really.
I can’t remember who it was that whispered in my ear but what I was watching was a video of Kev and his mates on a tv show. Now you have to remember that I’d only met Kev a few hours earlier and what I was watching was just the tip of the iceberg of further things to experience in the years to come – good on yer mate!
The rest of the evening was very much a blur. What I do remember was waking up in the morning covered in charcoal, grease and what looked like bacon rind. I can only assume that I’d fallen into a bar-b-cue while trying to find my tent. Happy days!
I think you eventually fell asleep in that chair with a can of beer cradled in your arms. 
And indeed some things never change if the HRD's this year is anything to go by.....Dave wrote:I think you eventually fell asleep in that chair with a can of beer cradled in your arms.
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Pete Wiseman; Cambridge.
Mopar by the grace of God
Mopar by the grace of God