13-05-2024, 01:26 PM
In August 1970, I picked up my recently acquired Seven to drive it from Witton Gilbert over to the Netherlands.
Just south of Durham, I had to stop on the hard shoulder of the A1 to change a flat tyre. Before I could even loosen the wheel nuts, a heavy goods vehicle had pulled over behind me, protecting us from oncoming traffic. The driver wielded a massive hydraulic jack and the F1-style pit stop was over and done with in a flash.
This kind and thoughtful stranger’s non-verbal response to my words of gratitude was simply a whopping great smile which accompanied me for the rest of the two-day, thousand km drive.
Just south of Durham, I had to stop on the hard shoulder of the A1 to change a flat tyre. Before I could even loosen the wheel nuts, a heavy goods vehicle had pulled over behind me, protecting us from oncoming traffic. The driver wielded a massive hydraulic jack and the F1-style pit stop was over and done with in a flash.
This kind and thoughtful stranger’s non-verbal response to my words of gratitude was simply a whopping great smile which accompanied me for the rest of the two-day, thousand km drive.