SWITZERLAND JOHN SWITZER
Finding a bit of heaven
Why does the air smell so sweet in the early
morning, and why does the light appear so special? Why does the sound of tires on asphalt have
such a pleasant reverberation on the soul? Perhaps it’s because a trip to nowhere at first
light adds up to the feeling of freedom that can only be found on the open road. Today’s tour started at Timmy’s in Kemptville,
and for no good reason we headed back into town, then wandered east into the rising sun and across the 416 into the South Nation Water Shed. We headed down Cty. Rd.43 and found Hallville. I don’t know what an “installation” is, but I
gather it is some sort of art form. That’s how I would describe The Sports Car Factory’s front lawn. Today they had a classic Land Rover, a couple of Porsches, and of course a few Jaguars reflecting their love of English high-performance cars. The cars were parked haphazardly in a field
across the street from their converted cheese factory. The front yard had a Bentley, a Rover Sedan, more Porsches, an MG or two and more Jags. It left us flabbergasted. These guys are real car guys whose purpose in
life is to resurrect older classical vehicles that have been put away by owners who could just not give them up. “We love Austin Martins,” explained one of owner John Pritchard’s sons, “but it is all about car
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owners who want to relive the dream of powering down the road in their restored sports car – and we can fabricate and restore anything.” As we wandered through the labyrinth of The
Sports Car Factory, I marveled at the dust-covered Aladdin’s Cave of whole and partial artifacts of a not-so-long ago car culture which built these pieces of art on wheels. I had met John Pritchard years before when he
caught my son and me snooping around his treasure trove called a back yard. Instead of calling the cops, he invited us inside and showed us an early 1930s Jag sports car that he had just lovingly rebuilt. It had been nothing but a rusted metal hulk, found in a swamp somewhere. “Where’s John?” I asked on this visit. I was
told by sons Mark and Steve he was on vacation –“probably looking for cars”. They were working on two upscale classic Mercedes (winter beaters, someone said) and nearby Mike was working on restoring his 1947 Chevy five-windowed three- quarter-ton truck (his newly-resurrected Austin Martin was parked elsewhere). Still in total awe, we wandered off down the street. Luckily for us, Hallville is also the home
of Sandy’s world famous butter tarts (a.k.a. Loughlin’s Country Store). After wandering around the factory for a couple of hours with our jaws dragging on the ground, we were in real need of sustenance.
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