Wind in the Willows

In all shapes and sizes vintage cars rolled up to the Sailing Club this morning before light, parking on the grass and under the yellow leaved willows. One hundred and twenty-five breakfast bacon baps later, with bubbling and popping engines, off they all set on a rally that would challenge many modern vehicles. 


The gravel forest roads, and steep gradients of Whinlatter and Sale fells, together with narrow Cumbrian lanes take them back to a time where even top speeds reflected a slower pace of life and leisure. Occasionally oil dribbles or strange knocking noises under the bonnet bring them back to base for running repairs and then ‘goggles on’ and off they go again following in Toad’s dust cloud of dreams.
"In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it".