Of sheds, garages, back rooms and studios

Today dawned wet and dull. The Morgan 4/4 is centre stage within the garage going nowhere. Various things have been through here but some remain on the drawing board, ideas delayed or shelved. The tools and pots of glue, paint, nuts and bolts hold clues to things hand-made.  I feel in synchrony with this conveyance.  A solicitor I once knew, owned an Alvis 21 drophead coupe which had a brass plate on its wooden dashboard engraved with the words "This Conveyance".

Classic legalese opening words that appear on property sale contracts and seemingly appropriate to the Morgan.

Miah Argust, my maternal grandfather had his little shed very full.  Files, saws, shoe lasts, rolls of cotton wrapped wire, radio valves and a couple of small transformers. Not until many years later did I discover what some were for. I  chanced upon a photo of members of  Treherbert Amature Radio Club.  There in the front row was pictured my grandfather Miah. He made his own radio sets in this shed and here was the clue to his forgotten hobby.

My paternal grandfather nick-named "sympathy joe" by Miah, had his back rooms stuffed with debris and dusty bundles of  "The Connoisseur" magazine, brass lacquered magic lanterns for projecting early colour slides, long-case clocks, pendulums, boxes and drawers of brass knobs, hinges, clock parts and escutcheons as well as antique furniture and china. One of several hats he wore was that of an antique dealer and here was evidence of that phase in his life. Another phase was airframe fabricator of WW1 BE2c bi-planes but I found no clues here. However there was a long cardboard box that contained one spare (aluminium) wooden leg. (He lost a leg in a motorcycle accident.)

My own father had little in the way of tools. Never keen on DIY, his hobby was wildfowling and his "shed" a locked cupboard housing his treasured 12 bore shotgun. His punt gunning involved preparing his own cartridges. Lead shot, black powder, wadding and empty cartridge cases were all clues found.

My mother had no shed. Her tools: the sewing machine, knitting machine, thermometer and medicine chest. Her hobbies: oil painting, toy making and pottery. You might say the whole house was her shed.

Brother Jerry had three sheds, each overflowing out into an open verandah. Andrew's sheds are also full but still productive and his red Morgan  4/4 4 seater sits in his garage alongside many more useful tools. Brother Martin has a garage brim full of boxes and bicycles, children's toys, garden machinery and tools which only he knows how to find.

Devonshire grumbles - Beer re-visited

Mogging along leafy lanes early in the morning starts from Greater Haldon. A mystery tour to follow colours of autumn but "tales of the unexpected" spill into a box marked "grumbles". 

We have HS2 and HS3 but no Devon HS4.   Seven million tons of beach sand and shingle are required to replace that which has been lost since 1841 at Dawlish.

"Swamped" by EU migrants, "Under Siege",  "Under Pressure".  Recent words from Downing Street.

Under attack from the EU - I say follow the Nordic peoples - Vote UKIP and we might get our independance back.

Bleeding the UK taxpayer, the EU penalty for our improved economy (including drugs prostitution and smuggling) seems to suggest we promote this degenerate group of high earners. Now the idiots are definitely in charge of the asylum.

I had to get that off my chest to continue my drive. Apologies for the digression. 

But wait there's more!....the MMC seems en-route to self destruction.

Futuristic design ventures, exotic materials, racing campaigns and electric power. Adventures quite laudable for a manufacturer with excess funds to gamble but for a compact niche market company with less than two hundred employees simply reckless.
At the heart of the matter, Morgan is blessed by a loyal following of enthusiastic owners happy to accept a few irritating flaws in its beautiful product. Perhaps some of us enjoy putting them to rights.

1. See viewpoints aired at http://www.talkmorgan.com/ubbthreads.php/topics/230870/1 - the thread titled "Tomorrows Traditional Owners".
2. Now ousted from the MMC, Mr Charles Morgan may feel free to set up a rival company. I am sure that many an entrepreneur would leap at the chance to back such a venture.
3. A three wheeler powered by Moto-Guzzi?  The 4/4 powered by Volvo?

Now where was I,  Oh yes at Beer with a toasted cheese sandwich and tea on the beach.

Love for an MG Magna

Dear Ones,

I received an e-mail early this morning and it begins:
“We regret to inform you that your application was not successful Thank you Graham, Unfortunately, your application to BeautifulPeople.com was not successful“:   But I don’t really mind because yesterday I met up with an old flame! It’s a long story but I shall not spin it out. It begins with the meeting of two much younger challengers for her affections. Ewan had already spoken for her but chose to go walk-about “down under”.  I was still in the same hemisphere as his love and wrote to him promising not to abuse her and mentioned a couple of cosmetic matters that I would overlook.

Ewan, being the gentleman that he was (and still is), agreed that I was best placed to protect her and so my encounter began. However, after my brief relationship of less than twelve months Ewan returned from the antipodes and very earnestly wanted her back. Being the gentleman I am, I agreed and the sad parting of the ways was accomplished. Sharing the same love, Ewan and I remained friends and over the intervening forty years we met at the odd beauty contest and discussed his conquest. So what of the “old flame”?  Well you might have guessed by now that she is really a stunning model and likes to be driven gently on the open road. This 1932 MG is an octogenarian but handles well and yes, Ewan let me briefly take the wheel at Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb.
This is no ordinary venue, but a very fitting one for the likes of vehicles of a bygone era. It is the oldest motorsport and race track in the world and started when charabancs and steam cars took to the hill on its dirt surface creating much smoke and dust. In the days of poor tyre grip it would be necessary to carry passengers, adding weight to improve grip on the track – but some failed to make it to the top.  This place has an appeal that brings enthusiasts from far and wide who are sometimes prepared to risk life and limb in order to chase the magic number – the fastest time of the day. The numbers are diligently noted in the record book and the lives lost are respectfully recorded on the brass plates that adorn the simple wooden pit enclosures. The only concession to modernity seems to be the metalled track surface and a food hall that sits comfortably beside the old mill and the majestic barns that have stood here over five hundred years. Ewan still loves his delightful conveyance OV9757 and looks after its machinery very well, having covered over 100,000miles since my 3000miles in the late 1960s. The engine has been re-bored and carries a couple of electronic devices for the controlling of temperature. The bodywork has been re-built following a small accident and the steering and brakes have undergone minor improvements. She will most likely outlast the both of us. The following link is to the album of images taken at Shelsley Walsh Wednesday 22^nd June.

 https://picasaweb.google.com/grabapic2/ShelsleyWalshHillClimb22June2011?authkey=Gv1sRgCJm2oITxv-v33AE&feat=directlink 

Best Wishes,

  Graham

Looe, Seaton, Crafthole, Portwrinkle, leafy lanes and Wild Garlic.

Looe is busy as usual

Driving down the shady green road alongside the Seaton river, tunnelling beneath the canopy of trees. Autumn leaves blowing in a fierce gale of wind. 

From Crafthole I first head to Portwrinkle at the foot of the Whitesand bay Golf Club. The tiny harbour under repair from a previous gale. Heading west a little further along the coast I find I am chasing a rainbow but the scattered showers are blowing in the wind and large droplets obscure the Go Pro lense.

Seaton beach shows signs of recent battering with its damaged sea defences and tree logs strewn along the tideline.

Looe is next and time for a pasty. Watering holes, Galleries and Pasty Shops at every street corner. Again there are storm repairs ongoing, this time to the high harbour walls.

 

Further up the river all is quiet

The road sign said no turning and there was none! --  Reversed back up the hill

Heading towards Seaton

Matthew our eldest son had a hospital appointment today so Helen is not with me -  it seems such a lonely road alone.
I once tried a long motorcycle trip by myself and discovered I am not really a stand alone person. I cut short that trip by riding twenty four hours and through the night to reach home once again. The only bonus point being the clear starlit sky with an unforgettable feeling of navigation by that heavenly map.

Having covered nearly 30k miles in the 4/4 I am delighted to say the pleasures are still growing. I just love the way the little Duratec motor settles down to a purr at 3000 rpm and will happily stay there all day long

 

Rame Head to Looe searching scenic lanes.

Today a weather window opens for the Mog to double overhead camshaft down the A38 to Cornwall. Getting the oil warmed up takes a few minutes climbing Telegraph Hill and we are away. Brunel's iconic bridge carries across the Tamar 40 minutes later and then onwards from Torpoint the A374 and A3274 lead out to the clifftops.

Near Rame Head the sporadic summer retreats of pre-war origin appear to slip down towards the sea. Crafthole and Downderry, Seaton, Millendreath and Looe were on the itinerary but Helen felt less enthusiastic so a second stab will soon be made another day.

A romantic at heart I sometimes wonder how a follower rather than a leader arrives at where he is. Realizing my limitations in the grey matter department, questioning where I am at; racing a dinghy or driving a Morgan.
Two people seeded those ideas. A sailor named Harry Fellows and my dear Daughter Sophia. It was he who spotted me enviously gazing at a dinghy on the beach and laid down the challenge - so I acquired one!  It was Sophie who handed me the keys to a Morgan one wedding anniversary and the adventures began.