Having co-existed with a truculent Saab for several years I decided it was high time he was socialized with his peer group and joined the SOC in September 05. Barring a North West branch natter at Stratstone Saab earlier in the year, the Peaks and Dales was to be our first major club meet of 06. Damian (a Y reg 99) had been groomed to within an inch of his logbook in anticipation of the event, (for heaven’s sake- I even waxed the sills!) Then disaster struck, the week of the run he fell prey to a bout of MOT failing ball joint fatigue and a hayfever style spluttering. Great! However Saabtec rode to the rescue, loaning me an alternative steed and kraaling a resentful, if not vengeful Damian in the sick bay. Initially a little crestfallen as temperatures soared I came to the realization that perhaps, for once, the scales of fate had tipped in my favour. The Saabtec 900s boasted a far superior climate control system.
Weekend festivities began on the Friday evening with an excellent fish and chips supper at Compo’s, Holmfirth. We parted fed, watered and well set up for the next day’s adventures.
PART 1, From hubris to humbled.
An early start! A fine morning, plenty of friendly, smiling Saabers gathered at the Windy Harbour starting point, a good showing of a wide variety of models and one woman behind the wheel of a 900 slavering at the thought of unleashing her inner rally driver. Amply provisioned with Buxton water, a very smart number 5 plaque, Mike and Veronica’s excellent route planner and *cough* ENGERLAAND hats (don’t ask- something to do with an event known as the World Cup occurring somewhere on the distant Global horizon) we set off ! All went well and the demon of competition had a firm seat on my shoulder (having been prodded into overdrive by Mike’s stopwatch start) until the “navigator” (Ma) had a “blonde moment” turning two pages over at once! The failsafe tripmeter readings turned out to be false friends; exactly corresponding with the distances on my new alternative route. Work out the probability of that one!
A non-existent mini-roundabout was the final straw, jolting us back to reality and dislodging the competitive demon with a resounding bump. After a little retracing, good natured cockpit bantering and steering wheel biting we settled into the first leg of the journey. A twisting and turning route which took us through Western and Southern parts of the Peak District National Park. Along undulating single track roads, up hill, down dale, through lush valleys and on to Carsington Water. Due to our earlier off route voyaging time was running short; we had a target departure time from Carsington to meet in order to have any hope of arriving at our second leg destination on schedule. The mounting tension was further stoked by a second detour; this time in the fiendishly twisting lanes around Hartington. Suffering from acute cases of lunchtime beckoning rumbling tummy, the route planner was jettisoned of necessity as I, for one, feared we might never see civilization again this side of Christmas. I’m afraid we cheated rampantly, resorting to the old faithful battered AA Roadmap, hastily fished from Damian’s door pocket a day earlier in what, as it turned out, proved to be a fleeting moment of blinding foresight.
Slinking into Carsington Water car park in the van of the stragglers, inwardly groaning “come in number 5 your time is up” with half an hour to spare.We had time only to gallop to the loo, scoff a banana and briefly pad about in a welcome waterside breeze.
PART 2, Is this the Hogwarts Express?
Not wishing to repeat past mistakes we travelled in convoy on the next leg, heading eagerly for our much vaunted cream tea on a steam train. Our safety in numbers approach cheered the rambling groups we met in the back lanes around Dovedale, raising cries of “look a Saab rally” and surprising at least one chap taking the air on a backwater front lawn who, from the expression on his face, seemed to think aliens had landed at the very least.
The scenery was simply magnificent and after the last minute mad splutter rush to Carsington we were finally enjoying ourselves. Ear marking villages to revisit at our leisure, churches to sketch and likely tea shops warranting a good future lunchtime pillaging. This leg of the run also gave me the opportunity to fully unleash and indulge my inner child, splashing through at least four fords – classic! Threading our way to Froghall station we made at least one man’s day: positioned by one of the fords armed with a radically lensed camera hoping for a sighting of something interesting, he looked as if he had died and gone to heaven when we turned up. Let’s hope he didn’t run out of film before the rarer and in my view at least, more stately Saabs splashed through.
And so to the steam train and the cream tea. By this time it was just too hot! What would otherwise have been an enjoyable trip up the tracks suffered from a lack of ventilation and turned instead into a bit of a sweat lodge experience. Trust the British weather.
PART 3, I want my tea!
A short hop through the countryside around Buxton with brief glimpses of the Welsh mountains in the distance, passing Millersdale (bringing back plenty of happy childhood memories) and back to Glossop. A few twists and turns again, but in the main the least complicated of the routes, bringing us home safely to the Windy Harbour and the prospect of that buffet. And what a buffet, full marks to our hosts.
The fact that teams with dogs and exposure blankets weren’t dispatched to round up lost Saabers at midnight was testimony to the diligent planning and organisation behind the run. The spectacularly scenic route showed just how beautiful England can be at this time of year with her overgrown verges, hawthorns in full bloom and back lanes crowded with wild flowers. It also brought to life the tiny and often picturesque hamlets which had previously just been names on the map and introduced me to the stunning Goyt Valley- a favour I will not forget in a long time.
A big thanks to Richard Elliott and all who helped to organise the event, Mike and Veronica Doughty for the route planners and a cheery welcome at each sign in and as ever with any occasion, the good natured company which made the day. Thanks for having me, for now I’m alll Saabed out, well…. until the next time!
Damian’s mum, member no 18801
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