Summer holiday - anecdotes and dreams

I would love to take my 1928 Chev (it's in a thousand bits at the moment) on a trip over the old Glen Innes to Grafton road in norther New South Wales, Australia. This road was bypassed by a modern highway in the early sixties, so it is still largely unsealed. My father use to talk about his family's trips from Moree to the coast in the 1920s. In 1924 his father bought his first car, a new 1924 Maxwell. My father was 9 at the time and after being given a crash course in driving, by a family friend who knew how to drive, was made the designated driver. This old road had, and still does, a short tunnel dug by hand, supposedly by convict (I don't think it's old enough). I drove over this, in a modern four wheel drive about ten years ago. It was not a challenge for my vehicle but in the 1920s, in a car with only two wheel brakes and loaded to the gunnels with camping gear and other necessities, it would have been interesting and attests to my father's driving skills. He was a superb driver. As an aside, in 1932, when he turned 17, dad went to the Moree police station to apply for his driver's licence. The police sergeant behind the desk, after hearing why dad was there, looked him in the eye and said: "It's about time you turned up"

Yes, it is time to get in your fine automobile and hit the road. In my part of the world you can still find pristine natural remote areas with clear turquoise lakes.