Cruising Martinborough: a chrome and gleam immersion

15 February, 2016

I spent the first Saturday in February blowing cobwebs out of my Shelby and straightening the curves of the Rimutakas to head to the main day of Cruise Martinborough. If you have not been to Martinborough before, it is a turn-of-the-century small town, created by a bloke called John Martin who named most of the streets after places that he had visited around the world, such as Dublin, Naples, and Texas. The centre is a large square  that you travel around clockwise only — almost like a roundabout, but square. Looking from space all the streets come off the square at either 45 or 90 degrees, making the town the shape of the Union Jack flag. It was here in the square that the Cruise Martinborough event organizers had done a magnificent job, shutting off vehicular access and allowing only entered vehicles to roam around free like bison on the prairie, or simply park up and enjoy the sun.

I loved strolling around, feasting on all sorts of wholesome and not so wholesome foods while admiring the chrome and gleam of a range of cars. There were lots of Camaros, Tri 5s, Mustangs, and Corvettes, but it was the unusual that caught my eye. I walked amongst a 1960s Chevy Acadian (a Canadian Chevy Nova), 1948 Chevy truck, a ’73 Barracuda, and a 2004 Chevy SSR, plus plenty more. Also on display were lots of old and new (but all retro-looking) caravans in funky slipstream shapes and, in some cases, milkshake colours. They were pulled by classics such as a ’63 T-Bird and a ’57 Chev. The caravans gave the display a Kiwiana theme and in some ways harked back to a simpler life when fuel was cheap, and travelling was more about the journey than the destination.

As great as the day was, it’s just one small part of the larger Cruise Martinborough event, and it left me wishing that I’d taken a few days off work, loaded up the car with the family, and taken in the rest of it.

Look out for more in NZV8 Issue No. 131.

The other Q car

Say the word ‘bond’ to anyone in the street and around 80 per cent straight away think of pop culture’s least-secret secret agent. The other 20 per cent may think of the wad of cash required to secure a flat or hire equipment that one gets back providing the fixtures and fittings stay much as they were.
However, mention ‘bond’ in specialist classic car circles and people will spin a very different yarn. If you dig deep enough, you will find an eccentric British carmaker that, throughout its 23 years in business, spawned some quirky and charming little cars.
The company was founded by Paul Sharp in 1922 under the name of Sharp’s Commercials Limited. However, the company did not start producing cars until 1948. The first car to carry the Bond name was the Bond Minicar. A three-wheeled, soft-top, two-cylinder eco car, the Minicar was a big hit at the time as the desire for an economical urban runabout that didn’t attract four-wheel car tax was strong in post-war Britain. All in all, 34,285 Minicars were produced over 26 years in a variety of variants.

Lunch with Bill Leckie: An Imp’s tale

Seeking limelight is part of Bill Leckie’s DNA, but when I asked him if anyone had written about his career and the cars he created, he didn’t think so. Even so, I was delighted when he agreed to sit down with me over a pie and coffee to reminisce. I started by asking how it is that someone who is so fanatical about F1 only ever raced saloon cars? Well, we’ll get to that, but where did things start? “I went to Cornwall Park Primary School and then to Remuera Intermediate where I became good mates with Geoff Perry, son of the legendary motorcycle racing legend Len.” Geoff Perry was 23 and on the edge of stardom when he was killed in a mystery air disaster over the Pacific in 1973. “We used to race around his backyard on a cutdown motorbike. It was friendly competition that I suppose helped hone our racing instincts. There was never much between us and so, by 11 or 12, I had a definite leaning towards speed.”