You Dirty Rascal

Part One:

After a heavy night celebrating with friends, and getting home to watch England play France for third place in the World Cup, the idea of getting up early for a morning car meet was not high on my wish list. I woke to find I'd missed the end of the game anyway, but victory was maintained, so I didn't mind too much.

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.

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

Let me fill you in a little on Rob, or 'Wingnut,' as we know him.

Rob is the founder of the Rusilip Rascals, having set the group up over ten years ago for like-minded car enthusiasts. He's a calm, relaxed gent, and nothing fazes him. A retired aviation engineer who worked for BOAC, building jet engines for the Jumbo 747 and the iconic supersonic Concord(e). 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 to better match the sumptuous, roomy interior, with its shades of teal and duck egg. It's a bit like buying a house, you 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 knocks up about three thousand miles a year, showing his Parisienne up and down the country, and over in France too.

His Pontiac has huge road presence and a gorgeous, low burble from the exhaust that will turn 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, well, 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 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 up until 1968.

To date, Rob tells me he's spent 22k 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 three thousand pounds, it proves that if you buy right and put in the work, you can have a wonderful weekend fun car that'll see you good for many years to come.

So the three of us leave the garage and make the twenty-minute drive to the Fox and Pheasant for breakfast with the Petrol Heads, who organise this local meet. On arrival, we're 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, sit beside my Brit bruiser.

Small groups make chit-chat and drift from car to car before heading in for their breakfast, tea, and coffee. Sucking on a bottle of water to rehydrate myself, I wonder: can I face a full English?

A Morris Minor caught my eye, not just for the aggressive look, but for the amazing paint job on its rear.

Some highlights for me: a stunning Ford De Luxe V8 and a Charger.

Two very contrasting eras, both stunning.

So 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.

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Part Two:

Red Is Not Dead

My weekend continues. After a Fox and Pheasant breakfast, I was feeling much more 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 yesterday. Those meaty tyres from his Challenger were adding to the dirt and dust already covering my car, and 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, somewhere 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, 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.1956 Cadillac Coupe, 1967 Ford F100 Pickup, 1972 Chevy Chevelle, 1979 Lincoln Continental, 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 he's always looking for something new to toy with.

It's midday now, and the viewing public are 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, or why, this spec was created. 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, no such need.

Nearby, a rare Maserati Shamal, a two-door grand touring coupe. 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, aged 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. 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. Reds not dead, apparently, in cars or complexions.

Phew, what a day.

Special thanks to Mark for the fiver!

Philip (The Rascal)

Editor.