The eighth running of the Flying Scotsman Reliability
Trial came to an end yesterday afternoon at Gleneagles having set off from Belvoir Castle in Leicestershire on Friday
morning, and after three days and 700 miles arrived at Gleneagles in Perthshire
on Sunday afternoon. Around 113 vintage cars (generally the period of 1919
to 1930) from all over the UK entered this year's event and apart from
the reliability aspect of the cars themselves, there were a series of timed events
and driving tests along the way to test the mettle of the crews - including one
at Forrestburn Hillclimb on Saturday evening.
Monklands Sporting Car Club had opened up the venue and laid out some cones on the track just to complicate things and welcomed the competitors with some brilliant late evening sunshine - and a few flurries of snow. Fortunately it didn't come to much although it was bitterly cold on top of the hills.
And if it was cold for the Marshals, what about the competitors? Even with big leather and sheepskin flying jackets it must have been bitter at times especially in the more exposed vehicles on which some drivers and co-drivers perched.
But you know what, it wasn't just the sight of these wonderful olds cars it was the sound. This was no cruise around the prettier parts of the country for folk with more money than sense, this was a true test of stamina and grit. And they weren't hanging about either. The majority of them were hurling their ancient steeds at fearsome, gravity defying speeds through these tests accompanied by much vintage tyre squeal. Marvellous. Absobluidylutely marvellous.
Monklands Sporting Car Club had opened up the venue and laid out some cones on the track just to complicate things and welcomed the competitors with some brilliant late evening sunshine - and a few flurries of snow. Fortunately it didn't come to much although it was bitterly cold on top of the hills.
And if it was cold for the Marshals, what about the competitors? Even with big leather and sheepskin flying jackets it must have been bitter at times especially in the more exposed vehicles on which some drivers and co-drivers perched.
But you know what, it wasn't just the sight of these wonderful olds cars it was the sound. This was no cruise around the prettier parts of the country for folk with more money than sense, this was a true test of stamina and grit. And they weren't hanging about either. The majority of them were hurling their ancient steeds at fearsome, gravity defying speeds through these tests accompanied by much vintage tyre squeal. Marvellous. Absobluidylutely marvellous.
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