Left work a bit early today to take advantage of the fabulous weather again. Had a swift walk on the moor in mind, after reading there is a Liberator bomber crash site close to Meldon resovior. Forgot to take my walking trousers to work, so had to grab them from home on my way past. As I was there it seemed only natural to swap cars too. :wink: So the little Mazda was parked up and out came the ///MR 
:evil:
The run up on to the moor was ok, but interrupted by the 3pm school mums in their Chelsea tractors .
I parked up at Sourton and headed off up Branscombs loaf to warm up :lol: After dropping down off the ledge into the West Oakment valley and a bit of tooing and frowing I spotted a small depression in the ground, full of bits of WW2 Liberator. Much smiling was had I wasn't really expecting to find it.
So with the sun allready set, the temperature dropping like a stone and me still in the middle of Dartmoor, I grabbed a quick chicken butty got my head touch out and headed back towards the Zed.
Safely back in the heated driving seat, roof down, hat on, stars glinting like Diamonds above and no sign of the moon, it was time to start back. Pretty cautious at first, I sat behind a late evening bimbler for a few miles, while every thing came up to temp on the dash. Once past him the tyres still felt a little twitchy for another mile, but then they came too and the magic began.
There really is nothing to beat it. The MR is just one of those cars that gets better the harder you push. The engine from gentle growel through mid range zing and then on to top end tyrannical scream time after time. Breaking hard into each cornerz suspension loading perfectly into the smothering depressions, then rolling genly over onto throttle, feeling the front end biting then starting to push wide, a touch more right foot to keep her turning and then squirt up over the next crest, finest touch of opposite lock as the back goes lite and back and do it all again for the next dipping camber chasing bend. What a machine what a road and what a drive home.
Till the next time. :wink:
:evil: The run up on to the moor was ok, but interrupted by the 3pm school mums in their Chelsea tractors .
I parked up at Sourton and headed off up Branscombs loaf to warm up :lol: After dropping down off the ledge into the West Oakment valley and a bit of tooing and frowing I spotted a small depression in the ground, full of bits of WW2 Liberator. Much smiling was had I wasn't really expecting to find it.
So with the sun allready set, the temperature dropping like a stone and me still in the middle of Dartmoor, I grabbed a quick chicken butty got my head touch out and headed back towards the Zed.
Safely back in the heated driving seat, roof down, hat on, stars glinting like Diamonds above and no sign of the moon, it was time to start back. Pretty cautious at first, I sat behind a late evening bimbler for a few miles, while every thing came up to temp on the dash. Once past him the tyres still felt a little twitchy for another mile, but then they came too and the magic began.
There really is nothing to beat it. The MR is just one of those cars that gets better the harder you push. The engine from gentle growel through mid range zing and then on to top end tyrannical scream time after time. Breaking hard into each cornerz suspension loading perfectly into the smothering depressions, then rolling genly over onto throttle, feeling the front end biting then starting to push wide, a touch more right foot to keep her turning and then squirt up over the next crest, finest touch of opposite lock as the back goes lite and back and do it all again for the next dipping camber chasing bend. What a machine what a road and what a drive home.
Till the next time. :wink:
