Last weekend’s car show was on a Saturday and not a Sunday which made a pleasant change. It meant that I could write up about the show in my own time on the Sunday. Especially useful excuse when the wife wants me to cut the grass or do some DIY, I can’t keep my readers waiting now can I? The show was in the next county from from me, about a fifty minutes drive through some beautiful countryside of Thetford Forest. The show is listed as Anglo American Feltwell Classic Car Show which is always well attended. I managed to get to this show a couple of years ago and was surprised by the heavy American classics there. Feltwell is surrounded by some US airbases, two of the big bases are Mildenhall and Lakenheath, the smaller one is Feltwell itself. I like driving round this part of the country as the American cars from the bases are used on a daily basis and seen out and about. It always feels like home around Lakenheath as its where the serviceman was stationed that owned my car bought when he brought it to the UK with him. I was expecting plenty of American muscle and I wasn’t wrong.
I arrived at the location an hour or so after setting off with a couple mishaps on the way. The first being a water mains was leaking and running down an incline of a road. My nice clean car was now getting splattered with dirty water. To those behind me, it must have looked as though I was intoxicated trying to drive around the little streams trying to mitigate the dirt sticking to the car. The second issue was me missing the entrance to the show. It was ‘sign posted’ (I use that in the loosest of terms), by the odd bit of A4 paper stuck on the odd lamp post. I saw a few cars pulling into the turning in my mirrors and pulled over into into a layby. When there was a gap in the traffic I started the six point turn in the middle of the road. No sooner had I started my manoeuvres a dozen cars or so in each direction came into view, I couldn’t write it. Yep, I was that person who held everybody up! Once I turned around in what seemed like minutes, I pulled into the narrow lane and was directed onto the field. The marshal told me that they were going to keep all the Mustangs together, that was the theory but it didn’t work out that way.
The weather was holding out, with periods of sunshine and the odd cloud. I got straight to work on cleaning the car, when a couple of friends caught up with me (also fellow Mustang owners), and asked me if I needed therapy as my car had gotten dirty. I did say that I needed to lay down in a darkened room to get over the trauma though.
By the time I had finished cleaning, the show which started at ten was getting busy. Time for my wander round for the photo’s and started at the back of the field and worked my way up and down the lines.
At the end of the first line there was a nice Ford truck with a Mustang on a trailer. It didn’t get moved off the trailer, so I don’t know if it had been picked up or being delivered, but it made for a few nice shots.
Moving onto the second row of cars, many more were still coming into the show, even though it had now opened to the public.
This slammed Lincoln was getting some interest from the younger public.
The guy who owned this Thunderbird also owned a couple of other cars, namely the white Studebaker from the first batch of photos of this post.
The next row was where the Mustangs started, they were also scattered around the field, but I collated all the Mustangs here. The first one I think has an identity crisis and was trying to identify as number of Mustangs according to the grill. The limited edition Bullitt Mustangs were out in force and was parked either side of me.
Lot’s of great newer American muscle cars here too but they didn’t look out of place with the classics.
There was bunch of trucks together, I’m not sure if it was by organisation or not, but it was interesting to see how they have grown in size up to the massive orange Dodge Ram (which was also for sale at £120,000).
The rest of the cars from the lines in no particular order.
There was a number of motorbikes coming in and out throughout the day, mostly Harley Davdisons.
After my wandering up and down the lines I took a well earned break for a spot of lunch and got the chair out for some serious people watching. I was going to get a burger, but when I saw the price of £8 and heard the not so pleasant comments about them, I decided against it.
Although it has to be said the beer tent did look tempting for an ice cold beer, but I won’t drink and drive.
During my rest up watching the world go by, then I spotted them, two plod. They were wandering around the car show looking at the cars.
I heard one of them ask one guy about his number plate to which the guy said “no it’s just my show plate”. I can’t say for sure why they were there, perhaps they wanted to look at the lovely cars, or was it something more sinister? Surely they had better things to do? Everybody was on best behaviour, no revving up engines or leaving the show sideways. The plod walked past the front of my car and looked at my reg plate, I was expecting some sort of comment, although I’m allowed black plates with silver numbers. Perhaps they thought my plate was a show plate as well and didn’t bother. Regardless of what they were up to, I wouldn’t have engaged with them.
Marts Car of The Show:
This was it, a beautiful Oldsmobile Holiday. It caught my eye from a distance where I initially thought it was Chevy Bel Air. I was hoping to chat with the owner, but I didn’t catch them sadly. The car was immaculate and a seriously loved car by the looks of it.
The show was due to finish at four, but a number of cars started to leave around lunch. I got talking to few nice people and with a guy who was telling me about buying his Mustang from new in the ’60s, I love those stories. At two in the afternoon I made the decision to leave as the sun was coming out less frequently and the clouds were getting darker.
The journey home was amazing and peaceful, apart from my exhaust note through the forest on the way home. The water leak I drove through on the way here had stopped and dried up on the road where it had previously been running down. I arrived home and wiped the car down straight away to put it away. The house was quiet apart from the energetic greetings of the dogs. I plonked myself on the sofa and looked at the photo’s I had taken for this post to do a bit of quality control. Before I knew it, I had nodded off for an hour, I was only woken up by the sound of the dogs having a mental at the wife as she returned home from her hair appointment. What a great way to end the day after a great show.
