I have confessed before my quiet appreciation of the combustion engine. I have often made the excuse that because I have two sons I’ve spent a lot of time when they were little on steam trains and watching motor racing. If I am honest I suspect that I am unfairly blaming my sons as even before they came along I have loved steam trains and motor sport.

This weekend I dragged one of them, with his girlfriend and my mother to Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb which is only about 30 minutes from us buried in the Worcestershire countryside.  As you wend your way through the narrow windy country lanes it seems strange that you are going to a motor racing event; there aren’t even any queues.

Shelsley Walsh has been hosting hill climbs since 1905 and predates Indianapolis, Le Mans and Monza.  It has a unique charm. You can walk around the pits looking at an eclectic collection of cars of all ages and designs, owned and driven by an equally eclectic group of people.

You can stand at the start line and watch each car individually set off on its climb up the 1000 yard track, on a 1 in 6 gradient. If you are feeling energetic you can make your way up the track and view from different points, but only the die-hards make it to the top where it is rumoured there are ice creams!

And for me the icing on the cake is the stunning location with bucolic cows completely un-phased by the strange activities of their neighbours.

 

 

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