At the merest hint of a celebration of an historic event, members of the vintage car fraternity are expected to - and are delighted to - roll up with skinny tyres, crank handles, bonnets and deerstalker hats.
But, behind the windscreen wipers, there are concerns about who will take the wheel when the current generation motors off into the great unknown, writes Mark Price.
How do you double de-clutch? What is a side-valve engine? And, where would you turn for a new wooden wheel-spoke?Just as the number of war veterans is in steady decline so, too, the number of people who can answer such old-world motoring questions.
The New Zealand Vintage Car Club recognises that is a problem.
National president Diane Quarrie, of Hastings, says a group of club members has begun work on a strategy.
It is too early to say what the strategy will contain, but its aim will be to get more young people involved in taking care of the nation's fleet of elderly motorcars.
She points out, it is not just a matter of ownership.
There is concern the technical skills vintage car owners call on from time to time may fade away.
Take wooden spokes, for example.
The wooden spoke-making industry consists pretty well entirely of Vern Jensen, of Feilding.
Still going strong at 73, Jensen has been turning out between 700 and 900 hickory spokes per year since the 1970s.
Asked if he has a succession plan, Jensen says one of his family will ‘‘step up'', learn how to operate his copying lathe and carry on.
Quarrie would like to see businesses involved with vintage machinery take on more apprentices so skills in panel beating, upholstery and engineering are not lost.
‘‘The guys that know all about these vehicles are just getting on in age and there's no-one coming up to do the particular work that's required.
‘‘We're still holding our own at the moment, but probably another 10 or 15 years might see quite a big difference.''
John Martin, of Cromwell, is one of those with a small business specialising in vintage cars. At 59, he is a ‘‘youngster'' in the field.
A joiner by trade and a teacher previously, Martin went out on his own eight years ago as a coach builder specialising in the pre-World War 2 cars, in which wood was still commonly used.
Martin believes the vintage car club is right to be concerned about the future, if ‘‘old, skilled craftsmen fall off the perch'' without passing on their knowledge.
He would ‘‘dearly love to take on an apprentice'' himself but has not yet done so, citing the difficulty of finding a young person passionate about pre-war cars and passionate about working in wood. He also has a lack of space in his workshop for an employee.
However, he believes prospects for any young person getting into restoration work are good because those with such skills are few and far between.
Graham Taylor, of Luggate, is one of the group entrusted with devising the strategy to shift the passion for vintage cars from his generation to the next.
He refers to the group's work as club ‘‘maintenance''.‘‘It's easy to overlook the maintenance, but you need to do the maintenance to make things buzz along nicely.'' Taylor says the group is taking a ‘‘very serious look'' at where vintage cars are at and ‘‘where we are going''.
While looking, he recently came across an Albuquerque programme for young people from age 14.
‘‘They are set various [mechanical] tasks and then they get to drive these cars once they've done the tasks.
‘‘So that looks as though it is working quite well.
‘‘And the big advantage there is, you have got boys and girls.
‘‘Now there's nothing like girls to get the boys along, and vice versa.''
A veteran vintage car owner, Taylor has a favourite saying, along the lines of ‘‘better a scratch now than a scrap heap later''.
In other words, if vintage cars are to survive, they need to be used.
He demonstrated that a few months ago when he helped organise a ‘‘show and tell'' day at Wanaka Airport where vintage car owners allowed anyone at all with a licence to have a drive of their cars.
‘‘Some of the people who turned up to take the cars were a bit concerned people would knock them around.
‘‘But in a paddock environment, off the main road, where you didn't have to worry about traffic, the person who got into the driver's seat just had to stay in the paddock and not run into somebody.
‘‘We had several people who came along and drove three or four vehicles and loved it.
‘‘That's something we have to keep going.''
He, like many owners, is not keen for cars to become static displays behind glass.
Robert Duncan is another.
One of the directors of the Wanaka Warbirds and Wheels Museum - filled with what he describes as ‘‘bloody expensive'' vintage cars - he makes a point of mentioning all are roadworthy.
One of them is Duncan's 1934 Duesenberg once owned by Hollywood actress Carole Lombard, and said to be worth $10 million.
But the most important car to him is the one you could describe as the least visually impressive.
At the age of about 30, Duncan helped his father extract an assortment of car parts from the ceiling of his grandfather's Dunedin house.
When they put them together, they found they had a 1910 Metz that sold, when new, for a few hundred dollars.
His grandfather, Harry Brundell, had been worried during World War 1 his Metz might be commandeered by the government and melted down to make bullets.
‘‘So he pulled it apart and stuck it in the ceiling of his house.''
Duncan and his father, Murray, restored the car, and now it is a family heirloom.
‘‘If I was in a forced sale situation today, it would be the last car to go because it's got the most meaning.
‘‘The value's in the history and the family connection.
‘‘The value's not in the dollars.''
That said, however, Duncan, as a follower of the American vintage car market, picked up on an interesting trend during the world financial crisis.
‘‘When things get tough over there ... those expensive cars, those high-end cars are bringing huge money. Huge, huge money.''
Duncan says a lot of ‘‘old wealthy families'' in the United States who ‘‘are all about asset protection'', are earning less than 1% on money in the bank.
‘‘A lot of those old families are buying cars and art because they are always going to have their value; they are always going to be able to go and touch it.''
For those who want to get in touch with their cars, and the cars of others, the museum runs a monthly ‘‘petrol heads breakfast'' at Wanaka airport.
But, while the December event attracted 40-50 very well cared for cars and an array of enthusiastic owners, there was not a child nor even a teenager to be seen.
Why was that? One owner suggested his son was probably still in bed.
But the winners of the free breakfast, for the best car at the breakfast, Iain and Jo Smaill, of Alexandra, driving their newly acquired $135,000, 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air convertible, had another answer.
It was not that their two boys were not interested. They simply had more pressing issues to deal with ‘‘It's only when you get into your late 40s you can afford to do it,'' Mr Smaill said.
And that suggests the vintage car club may have a long road ahead of it as it searches for young people able to take over the country's fleet of well preserved old cars.
Many may well be willing, but loaded up with student debt and facing exorbitant house prices, how many will be able?
As for the Chevrolet, the couple joked that although their sons had expressed considerable interest in inheriting it, it might go to their daughter, who had no interest in cars and could not even drive a car with a manual gearbox.
The reason: unlike the other vehicles in their collection, it just so happens the '57 Chevrolet with the 283 cubic inch V8 is fitted with the automatic two-speed Powerglide transmission.
