In the evenings a group of us often go for drives around the neighbouring towns, looking for interesting places and buildings to investigate. We have been up to the abandoned church in Clophill, the bridge over the derelict road in Nettleden, and the dark and noisy woods in Ashridge.
There will normally be a convoy of between two and four cars, and we banded about the idea of getting some PMR446 handheld radios for each car or passenger. Someone then mentioned they had an old CB radio in their house, and this then developed into a plan to get a CB radio for each car.
Four of us agreed to install a radio, and within a few days they had been ordered and delivered. An hour installing them into the cars, illuminated by the lights in Sainsbury's car park, and we were ready to try them out. Our cluster of small cars, each with six-foot aerials of varying shape and colour, set off in a convoy, snaking their way to Dunstable Downs with each of us chattering away over the mics.
They are a lot of fun and immensely useful. I have spoken to my friends across town on the drive home, and when one of them was unable to come out due to illness she brought her radio into the house so that we could talk to her from the top of Dunstable Downs.
I have also heard a few elderly boys in the evenings and spoken to one or two of them. They use their home-based CBs to stay in touch so that they feel less isolated, and means they can hold group conversations without spending a penny on mobile phone calls. It also avoids the difficulty of setting up conference calls or using a computer. Push; speak. Release; listen. In a world of computers and technology, I love the simplicity of it.
