WADDYA RECKON?

IT DOESN’T HAPPEN OFTEN, BUT GLENN TORRENS IS ASSAULTED INTO SILENCE

CRAZY ABOUT THE CARS BUT MAD ABOUT THE MUSIC

LAST WEEKEND, I went to another great Motorists Appreciation Day – MAD for short. It’s held in a terrific location near the coastal hamlet of Swansea a couple of hours’ drive north of Sydney. The venue for MAD is Bargoed House on the shores of the gorgeous Lake Macquarie. I’m not sure of the history of this property, but I guess it’s an old farm house and the grass where the car show is held was once an orchard or something – it’s a wide flat area ringed by gumtrees and with views across the lake. Nice!

Apparently MAD has been held here for more than 30 years so it’s a well-known and popular cruise day for just about ever y street machine and restored/classic car club within 100km. It’s put on by the lads and ladies at the Rickshaws Hot Rod club in Newcastle and entr y is a $5 charity donation.

This year – as with every other year I’ve attended – everyone was treated to plenty of cool cars: Minis, Hummers, the usual Camarstangs, a good turnout of Toranas; Falcon GTs, a gaggle of Monaros, Rileys, MGs and P76s, my mates in their dakdaks, Dusters and Barracudas, Datto 1600s and Geminis, a lone Porsche and even a row of 1960s and 1970s-era prime movers. After rolling through the gate with one of my VWs for the past few years, this year I cruised there in my Volvo 262C.

There’s ver y litt le formalit y, wit h t he Rickshaws club volunteers making sure the cars are parked neat ly and safely in rows to make sure as many cars as possible – and t here must have been 1000-plus – are squeezed in without running-over anyone. Much of t he broad grassy area where the cars are displayed is shaded by trees and the la ke-side loca le means t here’s a gent le breeze to keep t hings cool. Lots of car owners set-up camp chairs in the shade – or pop-up a ga zebo - and sit and chat wit h ot her car nuts.

So, apart from a sprink le of ra in just af ter I arrived, it was a stunning sunny Sunday morning with awesome cars as far as they eye could see. Happy people were there to chat about t heir cars; t here was excellent cof fee from Gerhard’s Café 53 Kombi van; y ummy steak sangas from t he car club’s big BBQ; cold Cokes and lemonade; a Mr Whippy ice-cream van …

What could possibly wreck such a terrif ic day?

Crap loud music, t hat’s what. Hey, I love a bit of background music in a pub beer garden and I’m in no better frame of mind than when I have Midnight Oil or INXS cranking when I’m on a road to nowhere. But this was drear y Elv is and Everley Brothers and heck-k nowswhat-other crap from 60 years ago, with the volume at 11, and blasted out across t he cars like some k ind of aura l f lame-t hrower.

Luck y my Volvo has a lloy bumpers because the blare was bad enough to ultrasonica lly strip chrome. Unless you were about 80m away – and judging by the empty space around the f irst few dozen cars, most people were - from the hoar y old spea kers that were relent lessly pumping t his crap out, it was impossible to even t hink clea rly, let a lone chat about cars.