Out & About
Dirty Weekend
Words and pics: Nick Prophet Hindenberg pre-’59 Dirt Track Races. It has a kind of ring to it. You know that you belong here. And after a two-year delay, or was it three (you know why), I was off. South of Berlin, close to the Polish border, lies the town of Lubbenau. The journey for me started in north-west France, and 1100 miles east lay my destination. Driving an old Ford truck, it was going to take a while… The first day’s drive got me to the town of Cambrai in eastern France. Into the town centre for a few beers and a bite to eat, but can’t be too stupid with another long drive in the morning. This time on to Frankfurt, or just to the south of the city at Gernshime on the Rhine, where I met my good friend Jimmy. A few more beers. After a hearty breakfast, we were soon on our way and not much later lost. But by the wonder of these electric things, with maps and all sorts of other stuff, we were heading east again. About half an hour from our destination, the heavens opened. To the point that we couldn’t see the road, so we pulled in to a service station. Much like everyone else. An hour later, we were on our way again and soon we reached Hindenberg. I think the numbers were down on the last time I was there. Maybe a combination of the weather, rumours of another cancellation, the Venice Beach Race and the price of fuel all added up. But we were there, so it was time for the well rehearsed routine. Open beer, take tent out of bag, open beer, set up tent. It would be impolite not to have a little libation. Chuck doss bags in tent. Head towards the sound of the music and naturally the bar. In the morning, we were awoken by the sound of engines. Followed by coffee and steak sarnies. The day is our lobster. The racing is divided into various groups. But frame or body must be pre-’59. Bikes are single or twins. Speedsters are 4 or 8-bangers, but valve in block. The
40s’ coupes are nearly all Flatheads, whereas the 50s’ cars are whatever fits under the hood. The weather held and the racing was intense, with where you finished putting you up or down the podium placements. Ahhh, lunch on the continent? The
‘Open beer, take tent out of bag, open beer, set up tent. Chuck doss bags in tent. Head towards the sound of music and naturally the bar’ stupidity of the British. Several pints of wine later, we didn’t need lunch. And then the afternoon session started, continuing on until about 5 or 6 o’clock.
After prizegiving? No surprises. Back to the bar – via the car show and trade stands, but mainly back to the bar. And so began another stonking evening and morning. The next day started bleary eyed. Much coffee later and now the afternoon, the dreaded drive west began. First stop somewhere near Frankfurt, then drop Jimmy at the airport and I headed for the Rhine for what I think is one of the best drives in the world, and I’ve done a few. This time I took a ferry over to the other side and into the mountains, roughly heading to Luxembourg and France. I camped near Amiens and was home the next day. Six days of driving and another 2229 miles added to the odometer. A great weekend, with great people. Would I do it again? Well this was my 4th year! So probably yes. YES, actually. Would I recommend it? YES, again. And if you want to do it in a reliable old Ford truck, it’s for sale. Drop me an email via the magazine and let’s talk. Stay sane all, and see you next year! CC
38 CUSTOM CAR DECEMBER 2022
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13/10/2022 15:25
