Made it. Whew! I really enjoyed this trip but I have to admit I'm a
bit sunburned, wind whipped and tuckered out. <knackered!>
My wife and I started off for Vermont at 7:45 sunday morning. The
Spit was completely frosted over...temperature at 29 degrees F.
<brrrr> Decided that we'd start the trip with the top *up* a least
until we got off the Mass turnpike...good idea.
Shortly after we crossed the border into Vermont we were passed by two
old gents in a white MGB...and I mean PASSED. Their top was up too,
and they were smiling and waving as they went by. I tried to stay
with them for a bit but it soon became obvious they were cruising at
over 80! I was not ready for this...yet.
The night before I'd filled the Spit sump with Mobil 1. Before I even
had a chance to crank it over I noticed that the oil sender had gone
south...no light. Replacing this unit with a used Mopar sender that
had sat on the shelf for 20 years did not inspire confidence. I kept
worrying that my new synthetic oil had all leaked out somewhere on
RT 91 and I'd never know it.
A bit later we pulled into the Vermont tourist info center for a pit
stop. I checked the oil and by golly, it was still in there! Great!
The place was *packed* with leaf-peepers. Parked over on one end we
spied an immaculate chrome bumpered BRG B with the top down.
"That's it!", I thought..."no *way* we're gonna drive into this show
with the top up." It was now perhaps 45 degrees.
As I dropped the top on the Spit I saw the owners of the B cruise
out...they were dressed like Scott's expedition team. Opps!
"Maybe we're making a mistake..." I said to my wife.
Nah!
When we pulled back out onto 91 the car and the whole *experience*
were transformed! Dropping the top let in a vast, three dimensional
vista of brilliant color. The formally strained sound of the engine
was gone now and the Spit fairly "leapt forward" into the mountains
...like it wanted to fly over them...really! :-)
It we were cold at this point I never noticed...I was too busy chasing
down MG's and I would not be denied! With the tach now pushing 4500
<who needs od?> the little beast chewed up the tarmac, tracking
straight and sure. Soon we caught up with the polar bears along with
two other Bs...and we caravanned the remaining few miles to the show
grounds....neat.
The show itself was wonderfull...terrific setting with the mountains
all around. MG was the most numerous marque, what with the museum and
all, but plenty of other neat cars showed up. There was a superb
white roundtail Alfa Spyder Veloce. A stunning black Jaguar 120
showed up with a custom, feline emblazoned trailer in tow...the
trailer's plate read "CATBOX". This Jag was so nice that I wanted to
lick the fenders...my wife stopped me. Two dove gray MGAs were parked
side by side...they were gorgeous.
A women drove up in a tattey Daimler 250 saloon...she seemed VERY
flattered when I asked her to open the bonnet. Little she knew of my
*real* motives...
Later, my wife and I toured the museum...this was nice but I think the
appeal would have been much greater to a vintage MG fan. Sneaking out
the back door we spied a Miata parked outside...and another. And
ANOTHER, AND ANOTHER! There must have been seven or eight!
Turns out this was a Miata club gathering of some sort. We checked
'em out and I have to admit that they were pretty nice. ALL had tops
down! :-) They were ineligible for the show by virtute of their model
year, but I'm glad they felt comfortable coming anyway.
It was also nice to see a few NEW Triumph motorcycles there..and a few
old ones as well.
I met SOLer Keith Elrich there who *swears* we've met before. :-) I
also caught up with Tom Walling, but I missed Joe Merone even tho' my
wife tells me he was parked right next to us! <DUH!>
BTW...nice TR6's guys!!
We left the show slightly before the awards and headed down route 5 to
nail a steak dinner in Brattelboro <sp>...nice drive, good meal.
Unfortunately we got back on 91 South and ran into serious
traffic...stop and go for over one hour. Turns out a 17 year old had
been killed driving a mustang. This car had passed us earlier at what
seemed a reasonable speed. Not sure what happened...he somehow went
off a straight section of road hitting a far away tree. Very sad.
It was sunset by the time we finally got back on Rt 90. The little
Spit continued to trek on past the 200 mile mark without complaint.
My wife gave it a reassuring pat on the dashboard as we drove into the
moonlight.
All in all it was an exciting trip covering 230 miles and three
states. Not so big a deal in a "real car" I suppose...
but most of this little beast was bolted together by ME! :-)
Cheers!
Tom O'Malley in Southbridge Massachusetts
'74, '77 Spits
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