Another memory has been conjured up. Yes we used to scour the dumps for those wheels from the big Prams. My first use on a lathe was to make myself a decent axle that didn't bend on impact. The springs from the pram for comfort (no good for racing though) The races we used to have down Netheravon hill or on the hill between Upavon and NetherAvon which is where I used to live. Oh happy days............many a scrased knee or elbow even bruised ribs.
Ah, the good old soap box go-cart. I remember we used to have a big hill in our local copse that gave us a great slalom run for 300 yard through the trees. Boy, did we get up some speed up - and experience some spectacular prangs. Happy days. Beddytare, I believe you have even more decades than me but I do remember football in the 60s. In those days, apart from occasional visits with an Uncle, who lived over a haberdashers in Commercial Road (sadly long gone), these matches were not at Pompey. I remember the excitement of my first visit to Fratton Park (vs Bristol City, my father's team), walking along Goldsmith Avenue in a sea of people. I don't know how big the crowd was but I do remember the noise as something I had never experienced before. With us was another Uncle who, living in Alresford, followed the fortunes of Southampton. He made the comment that Pompey was a 2nd Division team playing at a 1st Division ground, while Saints was a first division team playing at a second division ground. How times change. I also remember occasional visits to the Dell where, I must admit,the atmosphere was always noisy. Being a baby boomer born in the 1950s, we have now entered the 7th decade in which I have lived (I am not quite there in age yet) and so these golden memories take on an ever increasing glow. I still love match days, the pre and post match drinks, the noise of the crowd, the thrills and frustrations that undying support of your team engenders - it's all still there. Blimey, perhaps I need a therapist. nah - there's tomorrow afternoon.
We used to call them trollies in Andover where I grew up, and the crowning achievement of ours was to combine an old invalid carriage we found down the dump with an old rowing boat to make a land yacht. We used to take it out on the roads and once overtook a car, which was, admittedly, going quite slowly! The main problem was, as you will have guessed, the wind direction. The last time we used it we ended up about 5 miles from home and, rather than push it home, we abandoned it. We picked it up the next day but the fun had gone out of it by then and we found something else to do. I suppose it couldn't have been long after that that my dad took me to the Dell for the first time, and changed my outlook on life forever!
