Your first car memory
Discussion
I was maybe 3 years old. Standing on the back seat of my uncles mk1 cavalier as we pulled into the hospital car park. I remember looking down and being naked from the waste down and that my foreskin was discoloured and sore.
That was also the last day I seen my foreskin, so if you ever had a mk1 cavalier with a leather gearknob warmer you have me to thank for it 🤣
That was also the last day I seen my foreskin, so if you ever had a mk1 cavalier with a leather gearknob warmer you have me to thank for it 🤣
I remember at Infant school drawing a picture to illustrate the difference between a Ford exhaust and a Volvo one, I was always fascinated why those early 70's Volvos had that angled tail pipe.
When I was about 4 or 5 we went to Blackpool for evening to see the illuminations with another family. The other family's car somehow got a smashed windscreen when it was parked up and we drove 9 or 10 up in Dad's Cortina back to Bolton, think I was in a footwell.
As Dad was a workshop supervisor at the town's Ford dealers he always came home for dinner (that's the mid-day meal up there.....) in customer cars and had a new company Cortina every year. Had some great rides with him in 3.0 Capris and fastback Granadas. He even came home in police cars from time to time. I remember him doing a road test with them when they got a Cossie for the first time, they closed off a public A road for a mile or so and really gave it the beans.
When I was about 4 or 5 we went to Blackpool for evening to see the illuminations with another family. The other family's car somehow got a smashed windscreen when it was parked up and we drove 9 or 10 up in Dad's Cortina back to Bolton, think I was in a footwell.
As Dad was a workshop supervisor at the town's Ford dealers he always came home for dinner (that's the mid-day meal up there.....) in customer cars and had a new company Cortina every year. Had some great rides with him in 3.0 Capris and fastback Granadas. He even came home in police cars from time to time. I remember him doing a road test with them when they got a Cossie for the first time, they closed off a public A road for a mile or so and really gave it the beans.
My parents didn't have a car so my first memory is me and my dad getting a lift to Sunday school camp with this guy in his 20s who attended the church. He drove a Capri at 90+ most of the way and I remember my dad saying that he drove so scarily because he was a pit mechanic at race weekends and liked fast cars. Not sure what kind of racing he was involved with, it could have been F1 for all I know, but was more likely something that was held at Castle Coombe.
Like many others, early memories of sitting on dad’s knee aged about 4 ‘driving’ our ‘69 Austin 1300 up and down the driveway. Allowed to steer but with strict instructions not to try and reach the pedals!
Also in the same car, dozing off on the rear seat returning from a weekend stay with grandparents in Weymouth. Stretched out sideways, no child seat of course in those days, white noise gradually sending me off to sleep.
Some years later, dad taught me to drive my first car, a ‘73 Mini 1000, at the tender age of 15. Not on the road of course, but the safe confines of Bovingdon Airfield in Herts.
Ahh....the care-free day’s of the 70s and 80s
Also in the same car, dozing off on the rear seat returning from a weekend stay with grandparents in Weymouth. Stretched out sideways, no child seat of course in those days, white noise gradually sending me off to sleep.
Some years later, dad taught me to drive my first car, a ‘73 Mini 1000, at the tender age of 15. Not on the road of course, but the safe confines of Bovingdon Airfield in Herts.
Ahh....the care-free day’s of the 70s and 80s
RSchneider said:
The rear lights of a Glas/BMW 1600 GT parked down in the town square looking like the foil wrapper of the bon-bons my grandma kept in a crystal bowl.
Fabulous!Mine is from when I must been still under the age of 2! And it was going in my Mum's friend's black VW Beetle in the snow outside my grandparents flat, in what must have been the winter of 1964, in Hannover in what was then, of course, West Germany!
Even then and at that age, I knew that engine noise wasn't a good engine noise and so one of my first, toddler phrases was: "Peter's auto macht 'Bloop...Bloop...Bloop'".
🤣
P.S. I'm 56 now, my Mum is 79, lived all of her adult life in the UK. My Dad died 9 years ago but 2 years ago my Mum and Peter got together and live happily in the Western side of (note the difference!) Germany together.
And when we do all get together, the fact or phrase that : "Peter's auto macht Bloop...Bloop...Bloop" still comes up every time and makes us laugh! 😊
I think Peter's car is now some small, small-engined, clapped-out, black Mazda hatch-back. So whilst we people, even countries and the World have all radically changed since the winter of 1964....Peter's little black car still "...macht Bloop...Bloop...Bloop" !
🤣
We didn't have a car when I was really young, my father would normally borrow my aunties, I can remember her having a bright red mk2 Fiesta and throwing up all over my grandfather in the back of it.
She changed it shortly after (for some reason...?) for an XR3i and I can remember going on holiday with my father driving and my grandmother in the passenger seat, I'll never forget the way my grandmother started panicking when my father pointed out that we were doing 100mph. Good times, that's actually brought a tear to my eye thinking about it.
She changed it shortly after (for some reason...?) for an XR3i and I can remember going on holiday with my father driving and my grandmother in the passenger seat, I'll never forget the way my grandmother started panicking when my father pointed out that we were doing 100mph. Good times, that's actually brought a tear to my eye thinking about it.
Wildcat45 said:
1973 or there abouts. Aged about 3.
Sitting in the back of a grey XJ6 with red interior chewing meat off a chicken drumstick.
Then getting told off for lobbing it skywards through the Webasto sun roof. Then getting told off for wiping my greasy fingers on the aforementioned red leather.
I wonder if my dad bought the car after/from your’s? Sitting in the back of a grey XJ6 with red interior chewing meat off a chicken drumstick.
Then getting told off for lobbing it skywards through the Webasto sun roof. Then getting told off for wiping my greasy fingers on the aforementioned red leather.
My first memory must be from about 1976. Sitting on the roof of a grey Series 1 XJ6 just behind the Webasto and sliding down the rear window and bootlid. I would have been about 3.
I cannot remember how I ended up on the roof in the first place, I do however recall that he was not very impressed with me.
I can also remember being in the back of it, standing astride the transmission tunnel and chatting to my parents through the gap in the front seats. This, I think continued until I was too tall to stand up in it.
My first recollection of cars is complaining to my dad about how slow his Vauxhall Cavalier was going up hills on a trip to Scotland. I remember him having to down change before every hill and it still struggled to get to the top without scrubbing off a reasonable amount of speed.
It wasn't long after that it was replaced with a very nice E39 5 series which was much better!
It wasn't long after that it was replaced with a very nice E39 5 series which was much better!
Its a bit difficult to remember exactly at my age because of the dulling of memory and the influence of watching home movies but I think first real memory is pretty sad.
Back in 1974 when I was 9 my father decided that as he had made Senior Lecturer he should buy the family a car that befitted his new position, so we got a Daimler Sovereign. He bought it used and I think it was a '69 model. Massive thing it was, white with grey leather, Smiths dials and chrome push/pull controls (funny how you do remember the little things.). Despite the wood, when I sat in the front it felt like I was in an Apollo capsule.
However, soon after that he decided he didn't want a family anymore and started up an affair with one of his students. He moved out and left the car with Mum, which was great for her as it drank fuel like a Sherman and went wrong after every other drive. One gloriously hot summer Sunday, Mum decided she would do some digging and find exactly what was going on with Dad and this girl, which involved driving round most of South Devon banging on the door of most the family's friends asking who knew what and when, whilst my brother and me sat in the hot car wondering what was going on. After nearly every visit, Mum would jump back into the car in tears and we would hare off to the next address.
The Sovereign had to be sold a year later we moved into a smaller house and she could no longer afford to run it. When it was for sale one of the people who came round to look it was a massive Jaguar/Daimler fan and was driving a prize winning concourse E-Type which he took me and my best friend for a spin round the block in (which was the big hospital in Exeter if anyone knows it.), many insane overtakes later myself and my friend came back grinning from ear to ear, which was I guess was my first experience of proper speed. He didn't buy the Daimler, which was probably for the best as we later found out from the new owner when both of its exhaust pipes fell off at the same time, dragged along the road and set fire to the back of the car. Mum ended up with a Singer Vogue and then a Marina.
Dad married the student and bought a MG Midget in 1984 which he hill climbed occasionally, and we had great fun in when I visited him. He had it until when he passed 7 years ago. Despite all that had gone on, it pleases me that the last time he drove that car it was with me, 6 months before he died.
Time is a funny thing isn't it?
(By the way, if anyone here is into writing/publishing this thread is a great idea for a book. In these times, when we are closing in on Peak Car, something that lists the memories & experiences of proper motoring will be great thing to have for the future as the joy of driving deteriorates into travelling in soulless, monitored electric buggies.)
Back in 1974 when I was 9 my father decided that as he had made Senior Lecturer he should buy the family a car that befitted his new position, so we got a Daimler Sovereign. He bought it used and I think it was a '69 model. Massive thing it was, white with grey leather, Smiths dials and chrome push/pull controls (funny how you do remember the little things.). Despite the wood, when I sat in the front it felt like I was in an Apollo capsule.
However, soon after that he decided he didn't want a family anymore and started up an affair with one of his students. He moved out and left the car with Mum, which was great for her as it drank fuel like a Sherman and went wrong after every other drive. One gloriously hot summer Sunday, Mum decided she would do some digging and find exactly what was going on with Dad and this girl, which involved driving round most of South Devon banging on the door of most the family's friends asking who knew what and when, whilst my brother and me sat in the hot car wondering what was going on. After nearly every visit, Mum would jump back into the car in tears and we would hare off to the next address.
The Sovereign had to be sold a year later we moved into a smaller house and she could no longer afford to run it. When it was for sale one of the people who came round to look it was a massive Jaguar/Daimler fan and was driving a prize winning concourse E-Type which he took me and my best friend for a spin round the block in (which was the big hospital in Exeter if anyone knows it.), many insane overtakes later myself and my friend came back grinning from ear to ear, which was I guess was my first experience of proper speed. He didn't buy the Daimler, which was probably for the best as we later found out from the new owner when both of its exhaust pipes fell off at the same time, dragged along the road and set fire to the back of the car. Mum ended up with a Singer Vogue and then a Marina.
Dad married the student and bought a MG Midget in 1984 which he hill climbed occasionally, and we had great fun in when I visited him. He had it until when he passed 7 years ago. Despite all that had gone on, it pleases me that the last time he drove that car it was with me, 6 months before he died.
Time is a funny thing isn't it?
(By the way, if anyone here is into writing/publishing this thread is a great idea for a book. In these times, when we are closing in on Peak Car, something that lists the memories & experiences of proper motoring will be great thing to have for the future as the joy of driving deteriorates into travelling in soulless, monitored electric buggies.)
Edited by The Hypno-Toad on Tuesday 16th April 14:18
The Hypno-Toad said:
Its a bit difficult to remember exactly at my age because of the dulling of memory and the influence of watching home movies but I think first real memory is pretty sad.
Back in 1974 when I was 9 my father decided that as he had made Senior Lecturer he should buy the family a car that befitted his new position, so we got a Daimler Sovereign. He bought it used and I think it was a '69 model. Massive thing it was, white with grey leather, Smiths dials and chrome push/pull controls (funny how you do remember the little things.). Despite the wood, when I sat in the front it felt like I was in an Apollo capsule.
However, soon after that he decided he didn't want a family anymore and started up an affair with one of his students. He moved out and left the car with Mum, which was great for her as it drank fuel like a Sherman and went wrong after every other drive. One gloriously hot summer Sunday, Mum decided she would do some digging and find exactly what was going on with Dad and this girl, which involved driving round most of South Devon banging on the door of most the family's friends asking who knew what and when, whilst my brother and me sat in the hot car wondering what was going on. After nearly every visit, Mum would jump back into the car in tears and we would hare off to the next address.
The Sovereign had to be sold a year later we moved into a smaller house and she could no longer afford to run it. When it was for sale one of the people who came round to look it was a massive Jaguar/Daimler fan and was driving a prize winning concourse E-Type which he took me and my best friend for a spin round the block in (which was the big hospital in Exeter if anyone knows it.), many insane overtakes later myself and my friend came back grinning from ear to ear, which was I guess was my first experience of proper speed. He didn't buy the Daimler, which was probably for the best as we later found out from the new owner when both of its exhaust pipes fell off at the same time, dragged along the road and set fire to the back of the car. Mum ended up with a Singer Vogue and then a Marina.
Dad married the student and bought a MG Midget in 1984 which he hill climbed occasionally, and we had great fun in when I visited him. He had it until when he passed 7 years ago. Despite all that had gone on, it pleases me that the last time he drove that car it was with me, 6 months before he died.
Time is a funny thing isn't it?
(By the way, if anyone here is into writing/publishing this thread is a great idea for a book. In these times, when we are closing in on Peak Car, something that lists the memories & experiences of proper motoring will be great thing to have for the future as the joy of driving deteriorates into travelling in soulless, monitored electric buggies.)
That's a good one.Back in 1974 when I was 9 my father decided that as he had made Senior Lecturer he should buy the family a car that befitted his new position, so we got a Daimler Sovereign. He bought it used and I think it was a '69 model. Massive thing it was, white with grey leather, Smiths dials and chrome push/pull controls (funny how you do remember the little things.). Despite the wood, when I sat in the front it felt like I was in an Apollo capsule.
However, soon after that he decided he didn't want a family anymore and started up an affair with one of his students. He moved out and left the car with Mum, which was great for her as it drank fuel like a Sherman and went wrong after every other drive. One gloriously hot summer Sunday, Mum decided she would do some digging and find exactly what was going on with Dad and this girl, which involved driving round most of South Devon banging on the door of most the family's friends asking who knew what and when, whilst my brother and me sat in the hot car wondering what was going on. After nearly every visit, Mum would jump back into the car in tears and we would hare off to the next address.
The Sovereign had to be sold a year later we moved into a smaller house and she could no longer afford to run it. When it was for sale one of the people who came round to look it was a massive Jaguar/Daimler fan and was driving a prize winning concourse E-Type which he took me and my best friend for a spin round the block in (which was the big hospital in Exeter if anyone knows it.), many insane overtakes later myself and my friend came back grinning from ear to ear, which was I guess was my first experience of proper speed. He didn't buy the Daimler, which was probably for the best as we later found out from the new owner when both of its exhaust pipes fell off at the same time, dragged along the road and set fire to the back of the car. Mum ended up with a Singer Vogue and then a Marina.
Dad married the student and bought a MG Midget in 1984 which he hill climbed occasionally, and we had great fun in when I visited him. He had it until when he passed 7 years ago. Despite all that had gone on, it pleases me that the last time he drove that car it was with me, 6 months before he died.
Time is a funny thing isn't it?
(By the way, if anyone here is into writing/publishing this thread is a great idea for a book. In these times, when we are closing in on Peak Car, something that lists the memories & experiences of proper motoring will be great thing to have for the future as the joy of driving deteriorates into travelling in soulless, monitored electric buggies.)
Edited by The Hypno-Toad on Tuesday 16th April 14:18
I’ve lots of early memories so defining the earliest is difficult. My dad was a car salesman for much of his working life selling Rootes, then Chrysler UK, then latterly PSA vehicles, so those brands feature heavily if not exclusively.
I can remember being about 4 and delivering newspapers with my grandad, standing on the front seat of his Humber Sceptre, if I sat down I couldn’t see out. Before the days of booster seats......
Then with the same grandad allowing me to drive my mums Morris Minor on a deserted Ainsdale beach. I was determined to try my hand at opposite lock even then! RWD, 40 bhp(ish) skinny cross plies and damp sand. What’s not to like.
Holidays in Wales in my dads company Avenger, he always had a brand new one, through his job, vinyl roofs and rostyles, then a cassette player. We’d arrived.
My first car was a Hillman Imp, procured from dads dealership. About 10 years old but very low mileage. I was unimpressed, engine at the back but it was no 911.
If two wheels counts, being taken to primary school by grandad (same one as above...) on a white Lambretta with me wearing one of those old cork helmets and him with no lid at all.
I can remember being about 4 and delivering newspapers with my grandad, standing on the front seat of his Humber Sceptre, if I sat down I couldn’t see out. Before the days of booster seats......
Then with the same grandad allowing me to drive my mums Morris Minor on a deserted Ainsdale beach. I was determined to try my hand at opposite lock even then! RWD, 40 bhp(ish) skinny cross plies and damp sand. What’s not to like.
Holidays in Wales in my dads company Avenger, he always had a brand new one, through his job, vinyl roofs and rostyles, then a cassette player. We’d arrived.
My first car was a Hillman Imp, procured from dads dealership. About 10 years old but very low mileage. I was unimpressed, engine at the back but it was no 911.
If two wheels counts, being taken to primary school by grandad (same one as above...) on a white Lambretta with me wearing one of those old cork helmets and him with no lid at all.
Edited by Earl of Petrol on Sunday 21st April 11:46
Earl of Petrol said:
If two wheels counts, being taken to primary school by grandad (same one as above...) on a white Lambretta with me wearing one of those old cork helmets and him with no lid at all.
If 2 wheels counts I'll never forget my Dad picking me up from primary school in 1967/68 on his 50cc Zundapp. He wore a cap, I has bare-headed, mind you it was only about 1 mile from home! Edited by Earl of Petrol on Sunday 21st April 11:46
I loved it!
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