For one weekend every year, New Zealand's Hibiscus Coast becomes a stomping ground for diehard female motorheads from all over the country, who show up to show off their wheels—in the least competitive, most joyous way possible. Swerving the stereotype of a typical V8 Supercar driver, the love these women have for their cars is unparalleled. We went along to the festival to ask what drives them.
Two years ago I had cancer, and to get through that I thought I'd better get myself a car. I decided, "Life's short." And then along came my beautiful Fury. She's my journey. It's free, it's magic. You feel the rumble under the hood, the windows are all down, you're just in another world. It's like going for a horse ride—it's my new pony.
I've got to pinch myself to remind me that it's mine. It came with the number plate "VAMPED," and it had vampires painted on the back with a picture of a girl eating her own wrist, so that was the first thing to go when I got it home. But the number plate stayed.
My husband and I have a 70s Camaro, but I thought, I'd like something for me. It's a happy car. It's got chrome and curves, and it's a little bit used, and it's got war wounds and scars—like me.
I got my first V8 Mustang when I was about 52, and then I wanted something a bit ballsier, so I sold my mustang and bought a Shelby. I just love it—having a car that when you turn it on, it turns you on.
I bought it through the Mustang centre in Christchurch; I was the first registered owner of a Shelby in New Zealand.
I've been into cars ever since my father introduced me to Motorsport when I was four-years-old. It's just a passion—I love working with them, working on them, and cruising in them.