PASSING THE TORCH
From a very early age, cars were something I couldn’t escape. My Uncle Andrew, a hot rodder, always had something on the go — that guy was my hero whether he knew it or not. I’m guessing my mum did though, because, for my fifth birthday, I didn’t get a clown, a magician, or even a bouncy castle; no, she organised for my uncle to come and take me and all my mates for a blast up the road in his hot rod of the time — a Ford Pop — the same car I’d go to watch him race on occasion at the Port Road Drags in Whangarei. It was also in his shed that I saw my first blown motor later in life — oh, what a sight! It…
