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.

Lunch with … Cary Taylor

Many years ago — in June 1995 to be more precise — I was being wowed with yet another terrific tale from Geoff Manning who had worked spanners on all types of racing cars. We were chatting at Bruce McLaren Intermediate school on the 25th anniversary of the death of the extraordinary Kiwi for whom the school was named. Geoff, who had been part of Ford’s Le Mans programme in the ’60s, and also Graham Hill’s chief mechanic — clearly realising that he had me in the palm of his hand — offered a piece of advice that I’ve never forgotten: “If you want the really good stories, talk to the mechanics.”
Without doubt the top mechanics, those involved in the highest echelons of motor racing, have stories galore — after all, they had relationships with their drivers so intimate that, to quote Geoff all those years ago, “Mechanics know what really happened.”

ROTARY CHIC

Kerry Bowman readily describes himself as a dyed-in-the-wool Citroën fan and a keen Citroën Car Club member. His Auckland home holds some of the chic French cars and many parts. He has also owned a number of examples of the marque as daily drivers, but he now drives a Birotor GS. They are rare, even in France, and this is a car which was not supposed to see the light of day outside France’s borders, yet somehow this one escaped the buyback to be one of the few survivors out in the world.
It’s a special car Kerry first saw while overseas in the ’70s, indulging an interest sparked early on by his father’s keenness for Citroëns back home in Tauranga. He was keen to see one ‘in the flesh’.
“I got interested in this Birotor when I bought a GS in Paris in 1972. I got in contact with Citroën Cars in Slough, and they got me an invitation to the Earls Court Motor Show where they had the first Birotor prototype on display. I said to a guy on the stand, ‘I’d like one of these,’ and he said I wouldn’t be allowed to get one. Citroën were building them for their own market to test them, and they were only left-hand drive.”