Car Clubs

    One fine weekend afternoon we went for a drive in the valley and, lo, what did we come upon but a car meet.  Austin Healeys, ancient to merely vintage, all on display on the village green.  One doesn't need to have grown up in The Motor City (Detroit, Michigan) or be a gearhead to enjoy looking at cool cars.  While it is cool to have an eternal parade of four wheel fantasy drive past you on Michigan's Woodward Avenue, having ubiquitous car clubs, in even the most unlikely corners of OZ, is grand also.  
    Every small town seems to have a classic car club in it with cars regularly on display. Every nation of automotive engineering excellence has a well attended public exhibitions.  The German, the British, the Italian car clubs are now spit-shining their chrome parts for a Spring display somewhere in the metro area.
     And all are in incredible condition. There is none of the winter road salt corrosion seen on cars as in the American Rust Belt. Kev argues that the Indian Ocean puts salt in the air, but I think this beautiful Racing Green  Austin Healey must be too fast for any NaCl particles to land on it.    And really, I checked.   Very closely. 
I do not even remotely qualify as an automotive buff, but I always enjoyed  going to the Henry Ford Museum  and Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan during their antique car weekends.  Elegant Silver Shadows are parked alongside jalopies in the parking lot. So much eye candy and you haven't even officially entered the Village!

But here in Western Australia, the magic is on display also. Those who have it (and there are many) flaunt it.  Kind of like fancy dog breed owners. The interiors gleam, the engines are steam cleaned -and some painted, as well- so tops are down and  hoods are up. We drool, take photos, ask questions and owners burst with pride.


    This just doesn't happen in the state of Western Australia.  The island state of Tasmania had a Ford Model T meet and rally. Just Model T's. 
     And wasn't I jealous just watching the footage on TV.

     Not to cast aspersions  on our own Faithful Steed, but gawking at the classics is a fine thing to do on a fine afternoon.