Every Sunday, for years, Iād fired up its rumbling and willing engine and journeyed to the countryside to visit my white-haired uncle. The VMX, a gift from him, was his dearest dream ⦠a mechanical anachronism from a better vanished time.

Every Sunday, for years, Iād fired up its rumbling and willing engine and journeyed to the countryside to visit my white-haired uncle. The VMX, a gift from him, was his dearest dream ⦠a mechanical anachronism from a better vanished time.