Gill gets the Web Site off to a great start
WHITE ROSE GROUP YORKSHIRE TR'S
LOST IN THE PEAK DISTRICT ……..
With the impending gloomy weather of winter approaching quickly upon us we decided it would be a good idea to take advantage of the fine weather and make one last trip before wrapping up our TR's in the garage.
We decided to venture into the peak district, a place just on our doorstep, but not often explored in the TR's. It has just the right sort of winding roads to build up the arm muscles due to the fact that obviously our toys lack power steering.
The day started out chilly and a bit foggy, but never the less several of the owners braved the elements and went topless with extra layers on to beat off the cold. It must have been a bit cooler than normal, because even Peter had long trousers on for a change.!!!
Five sixers met at our regular meeting spot - Tankersley, just on the outskirts of Sheffield. We set off on our way to the peak district, with one decent map between us. Now the problem with TR's is they are small and when a lorry managed to join our convoy and sit between the leader Peter, and the second car, Andrew, this caused a problem, because after only five minutes into the journey Andrew thought Peter had turned off, and so he did a sharp left turn and the rest of us, like lemmings followed him. Quickly realising his mistake, he did a quick U turn and rejoined the carriageway. One hundred yards later ( we still work in yards , old cars , old units) who did we see on the opposite side of the road heading back to where we had started , but Peter, the missing leader. We pulled in and waited for what seemed like an eternity for him to find a convenient turning spot and join us.
It was an episode from the Keystone Cops. Oh dear not a good start.
Now the problem with country roads around here is that they are full of lumps and bumps which sort of counteracts the pleasantness of places with odd names like Midhopestones and Wigtwizzle. The TR's suspension was enduring the typical roads of Sheffield – lots of potholes. So after entering the Peak district with its rusticated views of dry stonewalls, sheep, and sharp corners, we suddenly could hear other more familiar noises. Not birds cheeping, or the whoosh of cyclists. "It's the sound of a Paul's exhaust bouncing up and down on the road"… "I wondered why your exhaust looked so low down" said Andrew, travelling behind us.
We stopped again (this is getting to be a bit of a habit). Nuts and bolts were borrowed, as luckily one of our members carried a vast array of spares… just in case. He must have had problems before.
So Paul found himself on the ground ferreting with the exhaust brackets. Gill helped by pointing at the offending problem- ever helpful us girls!
Whilst Paul fixed the problem, a couple of members pretended to be policemen and directed traffic round Paul's car, all of which seemed to be a lot of cyclists. Yes we were on the old Tour de Yorkshire route…
Right …….so off we go again … through the country lanes, down to Hope and then through Edale around the back of Mam Tor then into Castleton via Winnats Pass … which was a bit hairy, especially if the brakes didn't work. At Castleton, we stopped for a great and filling lunch. A small tour of the local shops, and then back on our journey.
meal in Rose Cottage
Leaving Castleton, we went through more areas of dry stonewalls, open landscape, with the odd sheep dotted in the fields, via Great Hucklow, Wardlow, and Ashford in the Water. Ideal country for a TR, open topped, with the engines giving out their distinctive purr. The car just likes this sort of countryside.
Finally stopping in Bakewell, with the sun breaking through the clouds. Whilst some of us made sure of getting a Bakewell Pudding (not Tart), other members visited the antique shops. Luckily we did do a head count before we left, just to ensure none of our antique members had been left behind.
What a great ride. All in all, a lovely day and very enjoyable. Hopefully we will get to go on another outing before we put our beloved cars to bed.
Author - Gill Dickson