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Ferry Road
For the local boys of my time, one of Earlsferry’s great
assets was the downhill section of the Ferry Road that
ran all the way from the bend at the upper end at the house by the
name of “The Marne” at the east end of the Grange Road
and from there downhill a quarter of a mile passing the
Links Road, Ivy Cottage and the High Street until the
roadway ended at the sandy end of the Ferry Wynd at the
beach. This downhill Ferry roadway was our “Brooklands”
race track where my special pal Jems and I and the other
Ferry boys raced our guiders, our home-made coaster “soapbox derby”
buggies.
Each of our guiders was a one of a kind and some were
quite ingenious as to their materials and methods of
construction. The body of my “race car” started out as a
wooden fish box that I found on the tide line. No doubt
the fish box with the name Pittenweem on it had been
washed overboard in a storm from a Pittenweem fishing
boat. To cut down on wind resistance I removed the ends
of the box so that I could either sit upright or lie
flat when steering. To the underside of the box I
fastened a board that extended about two feet in front
of the box and to this board I attached the swiveling
axle and the front wheels. My four rubber tired ball
bearing wheels that religiously I kept oiled, started
out their life as being the wheels of a baby pram that I
rescued from the local dump. The axles to fit the wheels
were forged for me by the Elie blacksmith who had his
forge at the end of The Pend at Park Place. (As the
blacksmith hammered on his anvil, boys of the village
got to pump the bellows to keep the fire burning
brightly.) I attached a short length of rope between the
front wheels to provide the means for steering as I
coasted down the hill and for hauling my pride and joy
back up the hill for the next downhill run.
With few vehicles on the roads in these days we did not
have to worry about running in to cars and traffic that
came along the Links Road but one boy had to stay on
traffic watch where the Ferry Road crossed the Ferry
High Street.
On the days that we raced and threw caution to the wind
we had a considerable number of onlookers who cheered us
on as we sped down the hill. As our Ferry Road race
track crossed the golf course our spectators were
golfers who were in the process of putting out at the
3rd. or the 17th. greens and those who were driving off
from the 4th. or the 18th. tees. There were times that
we had an upset that caused bruises and blood to flow
but all in all I don’t recall that any one of us ever
sustained a serious injury. Our competitive racing days
were great fun. Very strange. At this moment as I sit
here up in Central Oregon's high country I can "see"
myself, Jems and the other Ferry boys racing down the
Ferry Road.
As I recall the days that we raced in our coasters down
the Ferry Road I also remember the tragic accidental
death of Jim Clark, the man who became the famous Scottish renowned
International Grand Prix race car driver. Jim
Clark was born just a few miles from Earlsferry at the
village of Kilmany 5 miles NE of Cupar in Fife. Later as
the son of a farmer he lived near the Scottish border
town of Duns. I remember Jim Clark not only for his
skill as a race car driver but for his impressive
personality. It was his nature to always be smiling. He
was a man who had great charisma and everything to live for. His
untimely death at 32 years of age was a deeply mourned
tragedy. His international contemporaries named him
"The Flying Scot" and said he was the greatest Grand
Prix race car driver of all time. Could be that as a boy Jim
Clark started out his racing career with a soap box
buggie guider with which he too coasted down a hill.
Jim Clark, OBE, March 4th 1936---April
7th 1968.
If you are ever near the Scottish Borders do go to the small town
of Duns to see the
Jim Clark Memorial Room. |
