The past few weeks I’ve been somewhat pre-occupied with a house move to rural Worcestershire but having started to emerge from piles of boxes and generally getting used to both our new home and new surroundings, I started looking for classic events in the area.
Venues such as the Classic Motor Hub, Silverstone and Bicester Heritage are a bit nearer to our new abode than they were to our previous house, which is great, and there are others that are considerably closer.
One of those is Shelsley Walsh Speed Hill Climb, along with Prescott Hill Climb probably the most famous such venue in the UK, and which is now less than an hour away. I’d never been before, but suddenly there were not one, but two events that I could go to within a week – more on the second one next week – so on Sunday morning I set off to go to the Shelsley Walsh Breakfast Club meeting.
Being a breakfast meeting means of course a relatively early start, so I set off at 7.30 on what was thankfully a bright and dry morning, leaving my other half still asleep and hit the scenic route to the other side of the city of Worcester, aiming to roll up just before 8.30.
Taking place on an exceptionally busy sporting day, the event was scheduled to end around noon to enable people like me to get home in time to watch the Men’s Singles Final at Wimbledon before cheering on the national football team against Italy in the Euro 2021 final – a perfect day for me, except England lost…
A little about the venue before I describe the event itself.
Shelsley Walsh claims to be the oldest motorsport venue in the world that still uses its original course – older than Indianapolis, Le Mans, or Monza. Run by the Midland Auto Club (MAC) – and it still is – the first event was held on August 12th 1905, and the venue has been holding events there ever since, interrupted only by two world wars and COVID-19.
The course itself is exactly 1,000 yards or 914 metres long and rises 328 feet (100 metres) from start to finish, and the hill record is 22.58 seconds, in a Gould GR55 NME (nope, no idea), which represents an average speed of – if my maths is right – 90.58 mph, or 145.77kmh, which seems pretty bloody fast to me.
Besides the hill itself, the venue has a nice courtyard area with catering, there’s a beautiful 12th century church – St.Andrew’s – as well as the historic Shelsley Water Mill which dates back to c.1700, although mills are known to have been situated there since the early 14th century. Combined with the surrounding countryside, Shelsley Walsh is about as picturesque as a motor sport venue can get.
Arriving after a lovely drive along Worcestershire country roads, I parked up my 280CE next to a Jaguar XK8 and some kind of modern Ferrari and headed to the restaurant to get some breakfast – after all, it was a breakfast club meeting. Thus fortified it was time to take a look around and see what the venue was like and the other classics that had come along for the morning.
It soon became apparent that this was not a meeting for classics only, as about half the cars that turned up were modern high-performance cars such as a gaggle of Lotus Elise’s, Suburau Impreza’s and the like. This was also not a competition meeting, so the hill was not in use during the morning. However, as I hope the photographs will show, there were still plenty of beautiful classics parked around the paddocks and grounds to admire.
One genuine rarity was an actual AC Cobra – a 1965 4.7-litre wearing COB 11 as it’s number plate; I should think that with that plate, you’d better be driving the real thing, but it’s not a given. This dark blue example contrasted sharply with the 1928 Austin Special, though I’m fairly sure the body didn’t date back to then.
Two of my favourite cars of the day were a pair of small German sports cars – a gold 1972 Porsche 914 made even more special by being a 2-litre version and a superb 1969 metallic green Opel GT 1900 with tan trim, possibly the best one I’ve seen in years; it was a treat to see them parked opposite each other.
Sticking to German cars for a minute or two, a pristine red 1986 BMW M3 Cecotto caught the eye. Named after the M3 that Venezuelan motorcycle, F1 and touring car driver Johnny Cecotto competed in during the late 1980’s and early ‘90’s which, according to the information sheet behind the windscreen, was the last such M3 to leave the factory and was loaded up with just about every extra possible and is one of just 505 Cecotto’s built. These are now fetching £70 – £85k, and this one looked the business.
Just as special were the Audi Quattro in HB racing colours and the blue 1959 Aston Martin DB MkIII drophead, which attracted a lot of attention when it bowled through the gates to be allocated a prime spot in the paddock.
There was a trio of tasty classic trifectas, two of which were all-British, the third all Italian. One of the duo of British trios (I’m sorry, sometimes I can’t help it) consisted of an immaculate Jaguar XK140 roadster and a smart red Triumph TR3 with a tiny deep blue Lotus Elan sandwiched between them, and a few metres away, a Healey 100, mimosa yellow Triumph Stag and a red MG RV8 were lined up by the courtyard entrance. Ok, the MG is still a Youngtimer, but anyway…
Near the main entrance was a line-up of three gorgeous Italians, any one of which I would be delighted to own. A very tidy red 1974 Ferrari 308 Bertone Dino – I’m liking these more and more – was parked between a pair of Alfa Romeo’s, the first a stunning red 1964 Alfa 1600 Spider that just exudes Mediterranean chic, the other a 1971 1750 GTV in pale blue, not a colour I’ve seen on one of these Bertone beauties before, and I thought it suited the car very well. Not sure the extra foglamps were needed, though.
Other gems dotted about the grounds included a smart 1980 1275GT Mini Clubman in grey with a black roof, a tiny 1982 Suzuki Alto, and by contrast an exquisite 1934 Lagonda 2-litre in green, as well as a very handsome pair of Pagoda SL Mercedes.
Americana other than the Cobra, which is really an Anglo-American car, was in short supply at this event – a red 5.7-litre 1973 Pontiac Trans Am, a couple of big pick-ups in the blunt shapes of a black 1959 Chevy Apache and a blue and white ’68 Ford Ranger F100, and that was all – not even a Mustang.
As late morning approached, people began to leave and I followed suit, after what had been a really pleasurable way to spend a couple of hours – my appetite for next weekend’s Classic Nostalgia event has been well and truly whetted!
