Antique & Classic Cars Blog

Who hasn’t dreamed of taking a handoff or a crisp pass over the middle and darting through a crowd of NFL defenders all the way to the end zone? Probably not Gwyneth Paltrow, but a lot of us have. This would seem to be the dream possessing the Rush-Hour Running Back.

You know the type. It’s rush hour. We’ve lost a major bridge. Traffic is going fast in one place: nowhere. Yet there’s always a couple people stomping the gas and brake, yanking the wheel around, trying to make time when there’s no time to be made. They cut, sprint, brake, gesture–like some precisely orchestrated series of reckless maneuvers is going to get them home ten minutes ahead of their next-door neighbor, two lanes over. Ain’t happening.

If everybody ahead of you is plodding along, then a plodding pace is all traffic will allow. That magic Walter Payton line that dances through the crowd and keeps you moving a lot faster doesn’t exist. Relax. It’s a commute. If you want to run, wait till you’re home, lace-up your shoes, go for a jog. You’ll feel better.

Chain restaurants make a mint providing the same thing coast to coast, or continent to continent. B-o-r-i-n-g. When my wife and I hit the roads, we like to hunt down what’s different–a one-of-a-kind restaurant in a quaint little town.

Life in Harmony is a long way from a Jackie Chan/Chris Tucker police romp in Paris.

On a recent run to the deep south–south Minn, that is–we pointed the wheels at Harmony. Its short main street, lined with 1900-era buildings, is a welcome respite from the thrown-up-in-a-month architecture that squats along so many thoroughfares. We ducked into a joint called The Village Square, right on Main Street, after hearing that their homemade pies were worth a visit.

Good tip. While our BBQ beef and pork tenderloin sandwiches were OK, the blueberry rhubarb pie with locally made vanilla ice cream kicked the bejeebers out of anything available in a chain restaurant. This dish alone made the turn into Harmony well worth the time and modest dollars spent.

Village Square pies–worth a turn off the beaten path.

Up a few doors was an old but decorative facade, probably once a bank. The windows were dusty and the tiled front room empty but for a long unused desk. Looked like a great structure for another interesting sole proprietorship, something else to distinguish the town as unique. Yet a hand-scrawled note on a piece of cardboard below the windowsill heralded a different direction for Main Street: “Coming Soon — Starbucks.”

I told ya… Right here, I plugged the Wheels of Italy at Lake Calhoun last Sunday. If you made it, you saw millions of dollars worth of seductively curved fenders and tanks and fairings and a lot of fans of Italy’s recklessly sexy machinery. There are people in the world who choose careers driven by their motivation to own vehicles like these. While there are beautiful cars and bikes from many countries, none surpasses Italy’s for sheer allure.

The show started at 10 AM and ran till 4 PM, with snarling overhead cam sports cars and thundering or shrieking superbikes rolling in throughout the morning to infuse the scene with fresh energy.

Not everything on hand hailed from the Mediterranean boot–there was a Ford GT, various BMWs, several Porsches, a TR6, Lotus Super Seven and other summer playthings, but the bulk of the bikes and cars were Italian, including a couple Ferrari Dinos, Ferrari 400, various ’60s fast coupes, many new models, and my favorite—a 250 SWB. Wow! Swoopy offerings from Lamborghini, Maserati, Alfa Romeo, De Tomaso and others rounded out the scenery.

On the bike front, a long and drool-worthy row of classic and modern roadburners from Ducati, Moto Guzzi, Benelli, Aprilia and rarer makes like Moto Morini beckoned the two-wheel crowd. My personal dream bike is an MV Agusta F4.

Only one pulled up, driven by Anna S. She’d searched the country for a used ‘02-’04 750 and found one in Portland. She gave them a credit card number and booked a flight, then rode the bike south to California before shipping it here. Like many–but not all–of those in attendance, she has professional ties to the motoring world, selling Saabs and Cadillacs for Morries. Her love of horsepower extends right down to the one-horse level; she enjoyed talking with my wife about our morgan mare and looks to work a horse trip in among the faster two-wheeled jaunts.

The car and bike set is a good crowd. There’s always cool stuff to see and interesting folks to talk to. If you missed it this year, put it on your calendar sooner in ‘08.

There is a kinship among the machines that built this country–the farther back you go, the closer the link appears. Look at the engine, wheels, radiator, drive chain, and gears on an early automobile and you can see that they are similar–or identical–to those on the day’s farm equipment. (Adelmann Engine, which rebuilt the ’62 Olds V8 now residing in my ’72 Triumph TR6, does tractor and industrial engines too. Sitting disassembled on a workbench, piston engines for many purposes are hard to tell apart.)

Tractors are like slow cars built for towing and to power machines. (Early Jeeps and Land Rovers had Power Take-Offs too.)

This past Saturday my wife Jenneane and I drove to southern Minnesota to pick up a lot of grass-fed beef and pastured pork we bought from an Iowa farm. We met the owners, Ryan and Kristine Jepsen, at an old-style threshing, using techniques from the early 20th Century. Though we did not see the threshing machines in action, they were still there, connected by long (limb-eating) belts to vintage Deere and Farmall tractors. What a treat to see these early players in agriculture’s industrial revolution!

Not too many operational threshing machines around today. Here’s two fresh from work.

One of the farmers thought the machines were from about 1918. You’ve seen them before, moldering in the fields or overgrown beside a falling barn. How exciting for a gearhead to see a pair of them, not only in working condition but freshly used and still attached in the very way they used to churn when they were great time savers instead of inefficient relics.

Careful where you put your hands and feet!

After lunch, the Jepsens took us out to see their “new” property, where they will build a barn-and-home-in-one, and to their present home, where we loaded a big cooler with a LOT of frozen meat. My wife was excited to get cuts of meat unavailable in supermarkets because they take the place of other more profitable steaks and roasts.

Deere and Farmall tractors power threshers with broad belts running from driven pulleys.

We talked about taking my classic MG on this adventure, but the large cooler would not fit in the hatchback “B.” So this trip’s ruminations were left at the car-kin level. Way worth it though–the mechanized world sprang from the agricultural one, and it’s always a treat to see early innovations up close.

Peaceful scenes abound in the countryside. Visit them in your classic car before summer ends.

An advantage to having a long-running car project (like a body-off-frame resto-mod) is that people always have something to say to you. Disadvantage is it’s always the same thing: “Did you finish your car?”

I’d like to say I’ve been unrushed with this project to spare people uncomfortable silences when we meet. In truth, a car is like a home: it’s never really done. OK, that’s more convincing when you’ve actually got it running—you know, like add different wheels or put the “TR6” decal on the quarter panel.

Need to make a bracket? Use stuff in your basement.

In my case, it’s still not a driver. Hasn’t been for six or seven years.

“Twenty years!”

Honey, car years are longer than people years.

First bracket serves as template for second.

For the engine to run, all my ’72 TR6 needs is a different radiator–the original piece, built to cool a 2.5-liter straight six, was too small to handle the 3.5-liter (215 cubic inch) V8 I swapped in. So off to the junkyard with fellow gearhead Tom to source a proper 215 radiator. French Lake came through, I had it re-cored and it was on standby to go back under the hood as soon as I had time to make brackets to hold it in place. A rained-out bike ride last night offered the hours.

Who needs a CNC machine when you have a Sharpie and a vise?

It’s fun to tackle these jobs yourself. They didn’t need to be too fancy–a basic U shape would do. So I grabbed a four-foot length of 1/8” thick steel, 1-1/4 inches wide, from Parkway Hardware and set to work.

Wear goggles when hacking out a slot with your drill.

I don’t have a metal bender—I don’t even have a workbench at the moment. But I do have a small typing table in my basement, plus some C-clamps, wood blocks, saw horse, a vise, and a large pipe wrench. If a guy can’t make a coupla brackets with this stuff, what good is he?

Here’s the steps for when you build your own Olds-aluminum-V8-powered TR6 over the next coupla decades:

Get some heavy tinfoil, fold it over a few times and make a template. Take the steel bar, bend a mounting flange off in the vise, then mess around with a Sharpie, C-clamps, pipe wrench, blocks of wood, the typing table, your feet, and every leverage trick you can think of till you’ve bent the steel to the shape you need. Test fit. Repeat for second bracket.

A little primer…

Using a center punch, whack a few indents in what will serve as the flange to guide the bit. Then drill successively larger holes till they connect. File the drilled area with rat tail and flat files to make slots for the mounting bolts. (You could just drill one hole, but I wanted some adjustment room to play with hood clearance and distance from the belt-driven fan.) Prime and paint.

Because they hold a thin, heavy component that likes a little cushioning, I’ll put some rubber between the mounts and the bottom of the radiator. I still need a fan spacer—you want the fan close to the radiator for better air draw and cooling,—and to tinker with the altered shift linkage I made because it won’t get reverse. Then a couple more tweaks and this project’s on the road….

…a little paint.

No rush. I’m sure I can finish before we run out of petroleum. Besides, you don’t want to shock people used to asking whether you’ve finished the car. They won’t know how to respond, and it’ll be awkward.

Street parking in the city…. How long do you have to live or work in one to get it? I was picking up some Chinese food on the way to have dinner and work with my wife downtown last night (romantics take note) and I saw what made me wish I was on the motorcycle: The 3/4 Spot.

When you parallel park on an unmetered street, don’t give the middle wiper blade to the next driver looking for a spot by leaving just less than one between you and another car. Leave a couple feet ahead, leave a couple behind. Back in. If you can’t parallel park, practice till you can. When space is at a premium, don’t take more than you need.

(**Not that this will necessarily be weekly.)

Every gearhead gets this question. Usual answer is a verbal sidestep. “There’s so many great cars….” or “Do you have a favorite child?” Of course there’s a lot of great cars. If there was only one, it wouldn’t be a hobby. It’d just be a thing everyone agreed was cool, like Google Earth.

I usually give a sidestep, but not today. Today is commitment day. Commit to a favorite classic. I’ll say a Series 1 Jaguar E-type. Roadster. (Though coupes are amazing too.) If I could have any car, today, that’s what I’d take.

“But wouldn’t you rather have a 427 Cobra?”

Not today. Besides, Cobra aficionados often say the 427s are so brutish that the 289s are more fun.

“Or how about a Duesenberg. A Duesie, man, come on. Everybody wants one. No car was ever built better than a Duesenberg.”

Maybe so, but today, no.

“Ferrari Daytona Spyder? Whaddya say? Vee-twelve, long nose, Ferrari growl…”

Yeah and a white suit and sunglasses too. Some other time. Today it’s an E-type. If you don’t live in an E-type museum (XKE for the US market, I guess), you can’t see one on the road and not stare. You can’t see one in a parking lot and not veer over and have a look. The Series 1 is the purest look, to this fan. Cowled headlights a must. Maybe black or grey with red leather interior.

Lotsa cars go fast. Lots look good. Yet an E-type…. No car has ever been more attractive. On par? Maybe, that’s why most people can’t chose. A Miura is a pretty sexy looking car. There were some great looking Ferraris in the ’60s too. ’Vettes? Heck, yeah. Just about any Vette from ’53 through ’72 is welcome in this enthusiast’s garage. These cars look good, they sound good, they go fast.

But today, they’re not better than an E-type. An off-the-showroom-floor car that looks that killer, does 150 miles per hour, boasts wood dash, leather seats, beautiful round-face gauges, wire wheels, bevy of Bond-looking toggle switches…. It’s the one, the bomb, the sensation, the missing link between art and automobile.

So if I could have any car, it would be an E Jag. Today, anyway.

Some people are into Vincent motorcycles. Some are way into them. Steve Hamel from St. Paul falls into the latter category. You can’t show him a piece of Black Shadow or Black Lightning and not have him know exactly what it is, where it goes, what it does, what its stress limits are and whether it can be tweaked for more go. Speed records have fallen from that competence. More will fall.

Steve (right) and friend Dyo prepare to fire up the Vincent.

In less than two weeks, Steve will take his own modified Vincent with its huge suck-up-a-flock-of-geese Mikuni carburetors out to the most famous dry lake bed in the US and try to hit 161 miles per hour, a class record for a modified gasoline powered cycle. (Dyo, in the photo above, has had some thrills on two wheels too. In about 1962, he rode a BSA 250 over the arch on the Robert Street Bridge. Today that stunt would land you one of two places: the river, or jail.)

Making 100+ HP at 7500 RPMs requires big carbs and a lot of air.

Until race day Steve will work to wring another 5 horsepower out of the engine, which already makes 105 ponies at the rear wheel. Add 5 and he’s super confident he can hit his mark. Right now? Doubt he’d go out there if he thought she’d fall short, but he’ll keep wrenching in search of horsepower insurance.

“I think I see some trapped horsepower right here.”

So does a bike like this get skittery on the salt at those speeds? Nope. Hamel says it’s solid, which at a hundred-’n'-a-half-plus must lend some comfort to the effort. Biggest concern for the racers this year is water, which is presently puddled on the course. All they can do is wait for the desert to do what they do. Dry up.

(I covered Steve, his garage, and his Bonneville pursuits in Dream Garages.)

Ok folks. If you love cars, and you do (any arguments to the contrary are philosophical and made by people who have never seen a 1953 Corvette, Ford GT40, 3.8-liter E Jag, Lamborghini Miura, Ferrari Lusso, MB 300SL, BMW 507…) you’ll enjoy these car videos.

Many manufacturers claim to produce the fastest road-legal car. Who wins the claim is not our problem. But here’s a great video of the Bugatti Veyron throttle-stomped all the way to its top speed of over 250 miles per hour:
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x157l2_bugatti-veyron-at-top-speed

In the late ’70s a French director strapped a camera beneath the bumper of a 12-cylinder Ferrari and had a professional driver thrash it through the streets of Paris, without city permission or knowledge, at daybreak. A friend of mine used to work and house-sit for Al Garthwaite, who owned Algar Ferrari in Philadelphia, and we watched his tape of this in the early ’80s. It was and still is awesome:
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/2120

Finally, a great Honda ad, celebrating that company’s long and varied history. (Believe that’s our own Garrison Keillor’s voice at the end):
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1e9w3_honda-the-impossible-dream_ads

Enjoy. KP

Quick plug here for the Wheels of Italy car show next (not this) Sunday, August 26th at Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis. If you like Italian automotive and motorcycle design, style, power and allure, you will not see a finer gathering of that country’s products in this state. (Check out photos from prior years on the website for a taste of the visual feast.)

Believe it or not, some of the nicest, rarest, fastest, and most valuable Italian cars in the country are quietly tucked away in garages and living rooms and temperature controlled storage quarters around Minnesota. The Wheels of Italy show is one of the few you will find anywhere devoted exclusively to the wheeled glory of the red, white and green.

If can’t see a Ferrari without stopping to gawk, then come on out on August 26th and let your jaw drop.