Trains, no planes, and automobiles...... Wacky Races Pt.1

Well, that all went very well, I thought.......

I got up with the alarm at 05:30 this fine a.m.

The sun was just about peaking over the horizon. A mist hung over the mirror-like waters of the River Cam.

Sylvan.

Peaceful.

Beautiful.

So, showered, shaved, breakfasted and dressed in Full Dress NHSBT uniform, I made my way over to the garage to wake the Alvis up.

Ignition on. Full choke. Wait for it.... ('It' being the fuel pump: when it stops rattling you know fuel is at the carb and it's time.....) ....Hit the Gun Button (the starter button next to the ignition switch).....

Chara-chara-chara-cough-cough Brrrrmmmmm..........! :-)

Houston, we have main engine start.

Cue big grin.......

Which lasted until I got to the railway and the level crossing on the fen road to The Parish.......

The gates were down, and there was a suspiciously long tailback (Okay, five cars, but at 06:30 on a cold and frosty self-isolating morning? They'd clearly been there a while......)

Then I saw a London-bound train approaching.

Well, it was stopped, actually.......

Either that or it was moving with the speed of vegetable growth.

'Drat, double drat, and triple drat!' I thought.......'The old "Treble Zero" will never get me to work at this rate: looks like the crossing is playing up, and the trains are running at 'Extreme Caution 'as a result.'

What to do?

Well, of course , I did the Dick Dastardly thing of seeking a short cut.

Reverse back down the Fen Road for 30 yards, then hang a left down the old, unmade, poorly maintained, tractor rutted and deeply unsuitable for elderly classics track for 3/4's of a mile to the next road which leads to a manually operated rail crossing nearer the village.

The "Treble Zero" did all that was asked of it, slithering and wobbling on it's tired springs and superannuated shock absorbers, all the way to the lowered gates of the manually operated crossing.

Only to see another sodding train, heading from Kings Cross, parked firmly in the way and blocking the crossing completely.

Nothing for it, then, but to turn around and slither, wobble, bump and grind one's way back to the other crossing where it all started.

We got there............. (And with a full complement of hubcaps too!)

Just as I got off the phone to my manager to explain why I was going to be late that morning, I saw salvation, in the form of a Network Rail Rapid Response Vehicle, approaching the crossing.

As the train from London slowly, so slowly, cleared the crossing, the occupant of the aforesaid  (who did bear an uncanny resemblance to Muttley), leapt out, did a thing, and the gates opened.

Hallelujah!

I arrived at work in fine Alvis style: engine rhythmic, and what I believe is currently known as the ICE (or In Car Entertainment) belting out Elgar's 'Pomp and Circumstance No.1'

ICE, in TA14 terms, means a wind-up gramaphone, fitted with an extra-hard needle for maximum volume.........

And the bastard didn't half skip when going down that ploughed field of a track, too......but at that time I was playing this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wmy0LMPZ3F0

Have a listen!

More soon.