Celebrating Cars and Camaraderie: A Weekend with the Rascals

After a heavy night celebrating with friends, I woke up to the aftermath of the World Cup match between England and France. I had missed the end of the game, but victory was still ours, so I didn’t mind too much. However, the thought of getting up early for a morning car meet wasn’t high on my wish list.

My car was filthy. We’re still in the middle of a heat wave here in the UK, and mine was covered in enough dirt and hot-blown dust to write “wash me” on the bonnet. It’s never a good idea to wash a car in full sun, so today I was going to be a dirty rascal, and that’s that.

Meeting Up with the Rascals

I knew a couple of the Rascals were linking up at our local petrol (gas) station. After parking, I wiped the windscreen and rear glass, rolled down all the other windows, and hid in the doors. Soon, Mark arrived in his Dodge Challenger, followed by Rob in his Pontiac.

Let me fill you in a little on Rob, or 'Wingnut,' as we affectionately call him. Rob is the founder of the Rusilip Rascals, a group he set up over ten years ago for like-minded car enthusiasts. He’s a calm, relaxed gent, and nothing fazes him. A retired aviation engineer, he worked for BOAC, building jet engines for the Jumbo 747 and the iconic supersonic Concorde. Having also worked in the building trade, Rob knows how to put things together correctly.

Fifteen years ago, he decided to buy his first American motor, coming home with a 1964 Pontiac Parisienne. It was built in Canada before being shipped straight to the UK. When Rob found the car, it was in a factory gold paint. His first job was to find a colour that better matched the sumptuous, roomy interior, with its shades of teal and duck egg. It’s a bit like buying a house; you’ve got to look past the decor to see its full potential.

He settled on a Fiat Blue Metallic. To be honest, it’s a match made in heaven.

Next on his list was a complete engine rebuild. That way, he’d guarantee he wouldn’t get caught out by any weaknesses down the line. Between you and me, Rob’s a bit of a perfectionist. He drives about three thousand miles a year, showing his Parisienne up and down the country, and even over in France.

His Pontiac has huge road presence and a gorgeous, low burble from the exhaust that turns heads. Under the hood is the 283 ci V8, paired with a two-speed automatic Powerglide gearbox. Plenty of power for when a bit of excitement is needed. But Rob? He’s a cool customer. He likes to drift along nice and steady so everyone gets a good look at his ride. It’s more of a cruiser than a speeder.

You’ll see from the picture that Rob’s Pontiac is a factory-built right-hand-drive car, which makes it very rare. Manufactured in Canada from 1958 to 1986, it’s mechanically almost identical to the Chevrolet Impala. The Oshawa plant produced right-hand-drive Pontiacs for export until 1968. To date, Rob tells me he’s spent £22,000 getting the car to where he’s happy, and who wouldn’t be happy with the end result? I can’t see him letting go of it any time soon. Purchased for just £3,000, it proves that if you buy right and put in the work, you can have a wonderful weekend fun car that’ll serve you well for many years to come.

So, the three of us left the garage and made the twenty-minute drive to the Fox and Pheasant for breakfast with the Petrol Heads, who organise this local meet. On arrival, we were directed onto the pub’s large, parched grassy area, with cars lined up around the perimeter. A pair of Camaros in matching paint, a '68 and a '71, sat beside my Brit bruiser.

Small groups made chit-chat and drifted from car to car before heading in for their breakfast, tea, and coffee. Sucking on a bottle of water to rehydrate myself, I wondered: could I face a full English? A Morris Minor caught my eye, not just for its aggressive look but for the amazing paint job on its rear.

Some highlights for me included a stunning Ford De Luxe V8 and a Charger. Two very contrasting eras, both stunning.

After pushing a breakfast down my neck, Mark and I left for another show a few miles up the road. Another blog, to be continued.

Red Is Not Dead

My weekend continued. After a Fox and Pheasant breakfast, I felt much more like myself, and Mark and I decided to head to another show. It was a thirty-minute drive to the Chilterns Open Air Museum, where a weekend classic car show was in its second day. Mark led the way, having spent the day there the day before. Those meaty tyres on his Challenger added to the dirt and dust already covering my car. By the time we reached the sun-scorched fields to park up, my car looked like it had been through a sandstorm. It was £5 to enter with your car, and the field was full, with around 100 cars, trucks, and bikes on show.

We’d been directed into the top left corner, so after closing up, we started our slow walk along the rows, exploring cars from every era and country. The more I get to know Mark, the more I discover about his cars, which are a big part of his life. You need more than one hand to count his current collection.

Mark has a classic car for every occasion: muscle cars, trucks, and cruisers for comfort. He owns a 1956 Cadillac Coupe, a 1967 Ford F100 Pickup, a 1972 Chevy Chevelle, a 1979 Lincoln Continental, and a 2016 Dodge Challenger. And that’s just the US stuff! I’m sure you’ll see pictures in future blogs. He has a few for sale and is always looking for something new to toy with.

It was midday now, and the viewing public was hunting down shade and cold drinks. An unusual Jaguar XJ coupe from the late 80s was grateful for the fine weather, and I’m sure the owner was too. Now a modified roofless conversion with sleek lines thanks to its frenched door handles, it turned heads all on its own. The owner was nowhere to be seen, so I couldn’t ask who did this or why. Looking the car over, I couldn’t find any apparent fixings for a roof or any weather protection. I’m sure a suitable cover was tucked away in the boot for emergencies. Today, there was no such need.

Nearby, a rare Maserati Shamal, a two-door grand touring coupe, was on display. Produced in Modena, Italy, between 1990 and 1996, only 369 were built, and this one was in fantastic condition inside and out. Powered by a twin-turbo V8, its name comes from 'shamal,' the hot desert wind that sweeps across Iraq and the Persian Gulf.

If you wanted to own this one, you’d be looking at a sale price above £120,000. I’m pleased to say there was no 'for sale' sign in sight. Designed by Marcello Gandini, whose work includes some of the most iconic cars ever built—the Lamborghini Miura and Countach, the Lancia Stratos, the Ferrari 308 GT4, and the Fiat X1/9, to name a few. Marcello sadly passed away in 2024 at age 85. Now, who wouldn’t want to own these beauties?

Well, I can tell you: Mark. At six feet two, the GT40 is one car he’s not likely to own. As most will know, the "40" simply means 40 inches high.

Perfect for me, Dad!

Built by Ford to beat the Ferraris at the 24 Hours of Le Mans in the 1960s, they did exactly that. It’s well known that Enzo Ferrari walked away from a buyout deal with Ford, and Henry Ford II’s anger over it led straight to the creation of a world-beating race car. In 1966, the GT40 took first, second, and third, an iconic victory at Le Mans. It went on to win the next four years, just to rub it in further. Engines ranged from a small-block 289ci and 302ci V8 up to a huge 427ci, 7.0-litre monster. Are you spotting a theme here yet?

The Chevrolet Corvette C1 is one of my favourites, and I’m sure it’s one of yours too. Some colours just suit a car more than others, and a red Corvette is Exhibit A. This one, a '56 or '57 with contrasting white side scallops, is a beautiful time machine. In 1956, the straight-six engine was discontinued, leaving only the 265ci (4.3-litre) V8.

Prince wrote "Little Red Corvette" as a metaphor for a one-night stand with a beautiful, sexually confident woman. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination, but this car is definitely a girl, and sexy as hell. There was plenty to see at this show, and I hope everyone who went had as good a day as I did, even if I came home a little redder than planned. Red's not dead, apparently, in cars or complexions.

Phew, what a day.

Special thanks to Mark for the fiver!

Philip (The Rascal)

Editor.