My favourite car shot – at the moment

Peeping PorschesThis shot was taken last year but I’ve only just got around to cleaning it up – and I really like it.

I’ve removed a few distractions – like power poles and the inevitable overhead wires – and played with the colour but that’s about all.

Photographers talk about the “magic hour” just after dusk – and this shot is a good example.

I’ve included the original shot as a point of reference.

A car for a summer’s day – thankfully we’re having a few.

Summer has hit with a vengeance and the forecast for the next week is sun and lots of it. An ideal chance (in fact the only chance) to dust off the Porsche 550 replica and put some miles on the clock.

When one long, hot, dry day is followed by another, the complete lack of a roof is no longer a problem.

The more I drive it the more impressed I am with the way it handles and performs. I’m especially impressed by the way it pushes my eyeballs to the back of my head every time I accelerate on a straight and then pops them out on stalks when I brake.

Luckily it also goes around corners – but always with a slight sense of menace that next time, if I’m not careful, it could end badly – in the harbour or over a bank.

Tonight it got photographed just as the sun was setting parked outside the house.

There was a clunk and then … nothing

It could have been a line from a crime novel. But it’s wasn’t. It was the sound I heard just before my 550 Spyder rolled slowly to a halt. The engine was running and the gears were changing but somehow the power wasn’t getting to the wheels. Somewhere in the mechanical marvel right behind my head, something had said enough. Thankfully, for a car with no roof, this happened close to home and on a fine day.

I’d just washed the car for the first time, in the process figuring out how to do that without filling the cockpit with water (the trick, it turns out, is to be really careful) and on the drive back to the storage garage I experienced the aforementioned clunk. It was followed by cursing, grunting and swearing as the car was pushed the final 50 metres to the storage garage by myself and my lovely wife.

A few days later the 550 was dragged unceremonially on to the back of a car transporter and taken to the wizards at the Powerhaus. I have to admit as it was driven away my only thought was that even on the back of a flat deck transporter, the car looked good!

Footnote: I got a call later that day to say that the patient was sick but could be cured easily and quickly without the need for any form of open heart surgery. Apparently a nut and bolt holding the drive shaft had come away which, for a modest sum, could be replaced and the car will be as good as new.

Now all I need is a fine day to drive it home.

Start me up – carefully


This gallery contains 6 photos.

Ever since returning to Wellington my cars have sat, in garages, unused. Given their ages, starting them up after a 12 month hiatus isn’t as simple as turning the key and cranking. Just sitting still doing nothing means all manner of … Continue reading

One of the treats of being home

After the initial shock of moving back to New Zealand there are some things to look forward to that relate to being home. One of these was the chance to ‘unbox’ my cars.

For those of you who don’t know, I like old Porsches and have accumulated a few over the years. On Wednesday I went to the rented garage where two have spent the last year to check on them. Good news! They were both there (a relief) and seemed in good condition (a bonus). In the next week I’ll get a friendly mechanic around and we’ll start them up.

For a petrolhead like me this is bliss.