Rumble in Redmond by Barb "TrueBrit" Fairhead No, not another earthquake. The All British Meet in Marymoor Park. The mother lode. First thing I saw? A tasteful display by the British Military Vehicles Association. There it was, in the flesh � a fully-functioning Ferret. Did you know that on a good day, you can get seven miles to the gallon? And next to the Ferret? The perfect vehicle for off-road travel. An amphibious little number, the Stalwart. Forget 4 x 4�s. Try an 6 x 6 � with all-weather tires. Imagine, you could rumble down (or through) anything that lies between you and the water, enjoy a romantic cruise across Lake Sammamish or the Puget Sound, and climb out of the water wherever you like. However, I would strongly suggest you take LOTS of gas (at 3 mpg, perhaps Lake Sammamish might be safer). By which time, the FOURTEEN gear-boxes should have warmed up, so that the sensitive stick-shift type of driver will have slightly more control over this magnificent beast. Not having read the manual, I still do not understand how many hands you need to drive this thing. Or perhaps you should travel with a pair of octopi (they�re very smart, AND there would be arms to spare). Perhaps to unscrew a jar of pickles � (the standard test for octopus smarts). As I have mentioned in a previous article (I can say this with impunity, since I know I already have ONE reader, who might be joining the same car club as us. Yeah MG!), I am hugely fond of my Ferret, a vital member of my virtual convoy. And yes, it does go fast, forwards and backwards. And no, the State patrol did not pull the owners over as they were zooming down the 520. �Surely, it would be more fun to have Arabic number plates, so even if anyone does pull you over, how do they write your number on the citation, and presumably you would have documentation to match?� I quipped. OK, that was a long quip, and boy, did it hit a nerve! My husband has just announced that he will drive the other car. As for the Ferret owners, they had a sad, sad story to tell. You see, many thousands of miles away, innocent victims of British/US Government bureaucracy are languishing in a secured area. What are they, pray? One Russian missile launcher with, SOB!!, Arabic number plates (a Desert Storm trophy), and two (his�n hers) Scorpion tanks. And a loving new family in Redmond awaiting them with open arms. Overcome with emotion, I staggered off and drooled over the Rolls Royces and the Bentleys (mucho high end), the Triumphs, the Mini Coopers, the classic Jaguars, the Jensen Interceptor FF (yes sir, that�s our baby) and the MG�s � all cars I used to lust after, before they, and, indeed, I, became Classics. All, (except me) had been restored to a level of quality never even dreamt of by the manufacturers. Quality was definitely not Job One when they were built (except for the Jensens, which were lovingly built by hand). And now it�s full steam ahead (Oh, I hope not) for the All British Car Meet in Portland on September 4. Guess who�ll be driving the mini-van.