In the late 1960′s and early 1970′s, the Holden Monaro was THE glamour car down here in Australia. A sleek two-door coupe, which won the country’s premier motor race (the Bathurst 500) in 1968 and ’69, every soon-to-be-testosterone-laden schoolboy wanted one.

I was no exception. My particular obsession was the 1970-71 HG series. I preferred the HG grille and tail-lights to its predecessors, the HK and HT. An HG Monaro was used as the police car in my favourite TV drama series, “Matlock Police”, and a turquoise-blue base model HG lived about five streets away from me.

Over and above all this – I actually knew someone who HAD one. And, best of all, it would one day be mine!

In the late 1970′s, my paternal grandmother (then in her early 60′s) had a male friend with whom she spent much time. They divided their time between their respective homes in suburban Melbourne, and his beach-house at Rosebud, a popular beach-side holiday destination for most Melbournians.

His name was Percy. And he was a helluva nice guy, I must say – a former cycle racer, who now ran a bike shop. And owned and operated a gorgeous 1971 HG Monaro GTS. Which would one day be mine.

I remember it well – Rally Red exterior with GTS black-out panels and fluted front guards, 186 cubic inch six-cylinder engine mated to a three-speed T-bar automatic, luxurious interior consisting of seats trimmed in black-and-white hounds-tooth-checked material, fake wood-grain on the glove-box lid and centre console, and a nifty little key-lock on the T-bar as an anti-theft measure. I remember it well, down to the little “GTS” badge mounted between the headrests of the rear seats…

“If you remember it so well, what was the registration / licence plate number? Huh? Well?” , I hear you ask. “KVT-988″, I reply. I even remember the time some peanut who lived down the street stole the GTS wheel-trims to put on his boat trailer, and we went down and took them back…

Take a look at the image accompanying this story, and imagine the car as vivid red, rather than blue, and you’ll get the idea!

So, it was always a major event when I learnt that my grandmother was to visit – I’d sit at the window and wait for that beautiful red beast to appear outside our home. When we’d visit her, after I while I’d disappear, to be found sitting outside ogling the Monaro.

Best of all were the annual trips down to Rosebud in the back seat. Bliss. I don’t remember any of the scenery, just that interior…

By the early 1980′s, I was rapidly approaching the age where I could obtain my driver’s licence, and there was never any question as to what my first car was going to be – Percy’s Monaro!

It transpired that my gran was to visit one day, and I was rather surprised to see she and Percy arrive in an insipid yellow Commodore sedan. I assumed that the Monaro must have been in for a service, and that he’d rented the Commodore to cover the period.

No. He’d BOUGHT the Commodore – and used MY Monaro as the trade-in!

I can’t even begin to express the dismay I felt – it was as though someone had died…

And there’s a sad little postscript to this tale of woe, just to add insult to injury: some 18 months later, one of my fellow apprentices purchased his own first car – a Rally Red 1971 HG Monaro GTS, with black-and-white hounds-tooth-checked interior.

On the (now rare) occasions that I see an HG Monaro, I can’t help but think of my first love, and wonder what became of her…

I got my own first car soon afterwards: a 1972 HQ Holden wagon – Midnight Black, black curtains, lowered, heavily-worked 202 engine, extractors, twin-system, Leyland P76 bucket seats, rego number LHC-903…

But that’s a whole other story!

Chris