I KNOW I'M A bad person, and Mum, I’m sorry...

  Realising full well that my mum has really been through it lately, I thought it would be an idea to take her away from all the stresses and strains of life. Coinciding with her birthday, a weekend down on Exmoor – her favourite part of the country – would help her recuperate from stress and serious illness.

  It would also allow me to earn some Brownie points and it would be a way of thanking her for her understanding given that I have clogged up her driveway for so many years with, er, ‘appreciating classics’...

  At least that was the plan. Come Saturday, her actual birthday, we were wondering around Porlock when I happened to notice something called Exmoor Classic Cars at the Doverhay Garage – and the roller-blind door was sort of open.

  Uh-oh, impending massive moral dilemma. Could I? More importantly, should I hi-jack her birthday?

The fantastically named 'Alksford Scrubber', a beautiful little Austin 7 trials special that appears to have been named by Sid James.

  A passing local noticed me loitering and peering under the door. He told me that it was a really interesting little museum, that it was well worth visiting, but it wasn’t really open at this time of year because it was the chap’s hobby. However, just when it looked like normal birthday service could resume, a 1929 Ford Model A saloon blatted past, and my informant told me that might be the man to talk, too.

  A quick look around – yep, mater was still busy window shopping – and I tracked down the Model A to the Pay & Display. Now, although he wasn’t anything to do with the Garage, he was a member of the VSCC and he had been caught in the heavy snow which had fallen on Thursday evening.

  It turns out the Model A was the only non-4x4 capable of escaping his village – another one in the eye for moderns – but alas he was now too late to make the Exmoor Fringe Trial at Exebridge. “If you’re interested in old cars, you should pop along – there’s some good stuff, Vauxhalls, Bentleys, Bugattis... They’re meeting at a pub called the Anchor Inn,” said Mr Model A.

  Oh dear. The illness was bubbling up inside me. A couple of years ago at Race Retro, I well remember getting engrossed in a long chat on the VSCC stand, because there is something incredibly contagious about these beautiful old crates and their devoted enthusiastic owners.

  Thus with lunch looming, I did a shameful thing and suggested we have lunch in Exebridge because I’d heard of a good pub...

  I know, I know, I am an utter swine – and soon the game was up as we passed several Austin 7s, Bentleys and scores of Vintage trialling curios. Mum didn’t say much, but it was a familiar expression that combined slight annoyance and disappointment at her budding con artist of a son.

  So I promised to be quick, rushing around, snapping away and being utterly anti-social. The Trial had been cancelled due to the sheer bulk of snow (6 inches) but I was so impressed by the hardiness of VSCC members. They really are an antidote to concours-itis, because the only things which were dirtier than some of their cars were the owners themselves. Splattered in mud and salt spray, and that was just from the drive to the pub.