OPENROAD OPENROAD
Presenting Sponsor
5 BEHIND THE WHEEL
New Turns on an OpenRoad. The evolution of our favorite membership magazine.
16 CONCOURS CLUB: “LA DOLCE VITA” ON TWO WHEELS
Putting those Concours Club leather jackets to use on the backroads of Italy.
32 THE 2024 AAT AWARD HONOREES
Recipients of The AAT President’s Award, The Nicola Bulgari Award, The Hagerty Master Collector Award, The Jay C. Ackley Master Craftsman Award and The Edward T. Welburn Automotive Designer Award.
42 REBORN UNDER A MIDNIGHT SUN
Teaching an old hotrodder new tricks in Scandinavia.
8
NURTURING THE MECHANICAL INSTINCT
Want to raise a budding mechanic? Deny them everything, writes Peter Egan
26 WHEEL AND HEELS GALA 2024
Beautiful cars. Beautiful people. One special night each year.
34 RPM FOUNDATION: RPM AND THE 2024 GREAT RACE
With a lot of help from our friends...
54 AAT PARTNER EVENTS
Avants Wagonfest takes over ACM’s Haub Family Field for the nation’s largest all-wagon show.
THIS PAGE: On the road in Castellabate, Italy, with RIDE 70s
12 AAT ROADTEST: 2024 POLARIS SLINGSHOT
Having too much fun to feel self-conscious.
30 CONCOURS CLUB ANNUAL GATHERING
An intimate night amongst dear friends of the Trust.
48 SHOCK, GRIEF, ANGER & ACCEPTANCE: FINDING SOLACE THROUGH RESTORING A PIECE OF FAMILY HISTORY
Kelly Evenson’s cathartic restoration of a 1956 Austin-Healey.
COVER: Hamad Al Remeithi flashes an Arabic gesture to “slow down and savor” during the RIDE 70s Spring Raid in Italy. Photo by Fabio Affuso @fabioaffusophoto.
touring company. Photo by Rachel Billings @ raisehellbill.
By David Madeira, AAT CEO
New Turns on an OpenRoad
How does this sound for an ideal morning plan? Visiting LeMay – America’s Car Museum, grabbing a cup of coffee and a seat overlooking the gallery while perusing the latest edition of America’s Automotive Trust’s awardwinning magazine OpenRoad? Well, that’s now possible. In a milestone of AAT’s continued growth, OpenRoad is now offered for retail purchase in the ACM gift shop, with hopes of graduating more casual car enthusiasts into our membership.
Since its inception – which pre-dates the groundbreaking of America’s Car Museum – OpenRoad positioned the organization in an ambitious light with national reach. In the major drive to build the museum, OpenRoad was a critical “leave-behind” piece of collateral for potential donors, which articulated the scope and seriousness of ACM’s mission. Housing and preserving the world’s largest automobile collection, the cars of Harold LeMay, required more resources than just the Pacific Northwest region could provide. To be sustainable, the support and membership of ACM had to be broad, active and international. OpenRoad provided access and connection to that diverse membership for the cost of a bulk-rate media mailing.
Later, the magazine was instrumental in documenting and telling the stories of ACM’s sister entities – Club Auto, Concours Club and the RPM Foundation – now collectively known as America’s Automotive Trust.
OpenRoad still tells the stories of AAT, but also beyond ... for us to gather and share our passion.
How far we’ve come! This issue of OpenRoad shows that our shared American automotive heritage knows no borders, and defies gender, age and racial stereotypes. With original content from “America’s Favorite Automotive Writer” Peter Egan, as well as original CARtoon-style art from George Sedlak, one of the godfathers of Kustom Kulture art and the painter of Evel Knievel’s iconic stars and stripes motif. We honor some of the collector car industry’s finest, including Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance Chairman Sandra Button, Full Classics restorer Steve Babinsky, Rally school founder and collector Steven Thomas Rimmer, and legendary race car driver and designer Jim Hall.
Today, OpenRoad still tells the stories of AAT, but also beyond; as it becomes another tool – like the Museum or a Club Auto drive – for us to gather and share our passion for the automobile.
So, if you see someone in the Museum enjoying his morning coffee and flipping through the pages of this magazine, make sure you stop and introduce yourself to me. If you’re reading this, I’m sure we have a lot in common.
OFFICERS
CHAIRMAN: Michael D. Towers, Partner, Ambassador Wines of Washington – Seattle, WA
IMMEDIATE PAST CHAIRMAN: B. Corry McFarland, Emeritus, Cedar Management Company – Fife, WA
VICE CHAIR: Gary Gartner, NB Center for American Automotive Heritage –Briarcliff Manor, NY
VICE CHAIR: David L. Madeira, Emeritus, America’s Automotive Trust –Tacoma, WA
VICE CHAIR: William T. Weyerhaeuser, Emeritus Director/Chairman – Tacoma, WA
SECRETARY: Sam E. Baker, Jr., Oles Morrison Rinker & Baker, LLP – Seattle, WA
TREASURER: Trevor Cobb, Founder & CEO, Avantia, A Multi-Family Office –Seattle, WA
BOARD MEMBERS
Rod Alberts, North American International Auto Show – Detroit, MI
John D. Barline, Emeritus, Harlowe & Falk LLP – Tacoma, WA
Dale Bloomquist, DDS, MS – Seattle, WA
Stephen Boone, Emeritus/Retired, Ford and Harley-Davidson Dealer – Olympia, WA
Edward Brooks, Sunset Pacific General Contractors – Lakewood, WA
Nicola Bulgari, Emeritus, BVLGARI S.p.A – New York, NY
Sandra Button, Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance – Carmel, CA
Frank Chang, Flying Fish Partners –Seattle, WA
Doug Clark, Hagerty – Traverse City, MI
Keith Flickinger, The NB Center for American Automotive Heritage –Allentown, PA
Alan Granberg, Auto Enthusiast –Lakewood, WA
Dr. Gerald Greenfield, Retired Dentist –Lake Tapps, WA
McKeel Hagerty, Hagerty – Traverse City, MI
Tom Hedges, Emeritus, Co-Owner, Hedges Family Estate – Benton City, WA
Michael Holmes, Holmes Electric –Kent, WA
George Ingle, The Ingle Company –Spanaway, WA
Doug LeMay, Emeritus, LeMay Investments, LLC. – Tacoma, WA
Nancy LeMay, Emeritus – LeMay Investments, LLC. – Tacoma, WA
James Gary May, Hopewell Land Partners – Windemere, FL
T.G. Mittler, Auto Enthusiast –Santa Fe, NM
Michael J. Phillips, Emeritus – Altaira Wealth Management – Clyde Hill, WA
Patrick Riley, BDO – Seattle, WA
Al Ruozzi, RB Car Collection –Allentown, PA
Paul Sabatini, Lincoln of Troy – Troy, MI
Steve Saleen, Saleen Automotive –Corona, CA
Continued on page 7
IN THE HEADLIGHTS
“Recently, LeMay – America’s Car Museum hosted a Volunteer Appreciation dinner and I was signing certificates recognizing their hours of service. I was stunned by the report and asked for a list of all those volunteers with more than 1,000 hours each of service. The regular crew working with the collection has amassed by far the most hours – two of these have surpassed 7,000 hours of service. In total we have nearly 100,000 hours of donated time. The impact is staggering. The volunteer corps of ACM are the enthusiastic, frontline folks who gift the museum with their precious time and talents. We’re blessed by their commitment.” – David Madeira, CEO America’s Automotive Trust.
Thank You: Colin Bush, Greg Klein, Doug Wolford, Vic Varkonyi, John Scheidt, Phillip Traulsen, Mac McReynolds, Joe Peluso, Tom Crompe, Martha Swift, Doug Hartzell, Andrew Brastad, David Miller, Gerry Mutter, Jim Culp, Larry Smith, Bill Waters, Terry Nelson, Jeff Kerney, Joan Olds, Dick Johnson, Tom Gordon, Tom Stow, Marion Bartholomew, Curt Petersen, Tom Kassens and all the volunteers of America’s Car Museum.
Would you like to volunteer at ACM? Contact Chery.Phillips@aat.org
OPENROAD PUBLICATION CREDITS
Managing Editor & Head Writer William Hall
William “Kid” Hall is an automotive journalist based in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin, whose work has appeared in Hemmings Motor News, Classic Car Journal, RM Shift and Prancing Horse magazines, among others. His personal collection of cars skews classic Italian, with a few ‘70s era Muscle Cars and a growing collection of vintage motorcycles for good measure.
Contributors: Special thanks to Fabio Affuso, Rachel Billings and Myk Romanovsky for their photos on “La Dolce Vita”, thanks to George Sedlak for his illustration on Pages 8 & 10. Thanks to Vivian Hsu for her photos of the gala, and Jake Welk for photos of the Concours Club gathering. Daniel Maas contributed images for Pages 40-51, and Kelly Evenson lent her copyrighted images to Pages 34-39.
ADMINISTRATION
Art Direction & Graphic Design
Jennifer Weitzman, jamgd: jamgd a design firm located in Madison, WI — having a long history working with the RPM Foundation — they now bring their talents to this publication. jamgd.com
PLEASE NOTE: Not all of the automobiles depicted in OpenRoad are on display or part of the ACM Collection. Some of the photographs were chosen in order to illustrate or enliven a featured story while others were selected purely for their artistic merit.
Subscription to OpenRoad magazine is a benefit of friends and supporters of America's Automotive Trust. America’s Automotive Trust is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. A portion of your gift towards membership and sponsorship are
ALONG FOR THE RIDE
By William Hall Managing Editor
What did you do on your summer vacation? Travel to Europe, go on a motorcycle trip, race across the U.S.A.? This issue of OpenRoad examines all those pursuits, celebrating the peak season of our motoring enjoyment.
Hot off the heels of the Annual Gathering, AAT is proud to announce the return of Concours Club bespoke travel in 2025 with an outfitted tour of Italy aboard vintage 1970’s motorcycles. It’s no secret that many AAT members are also avid motorcyclists, and that our mission embraces the preservation and celebration of all forms of transportation. It’s also no secret that Concours Club members have epicurean tastes in wine, food and accommodations, so this tour was curated with those high standards in mind.
Staying on the European continent, we check in with an expat hot-rodder who moved to Norway only to find a thriving vintage American car scene like that from his youth, while proving that you are never too old to reinvent yourself.
Fitting firmly under the “all forms” category of transportation is the three-wheeled Polaris Slingshot, which we review on Page 12. UTVs and Autocycles are quietly staking out a place in American culture as enthusiast vehicles, and we had a quick taste of what all the fuss was about. Undeniably fun, these curiosities of the automotive world are growing the car hobby in unexpected directions.
The Great Race continues to be an excellent partner in furthering awareness of the RPM Foundation, which sponsors its student X-Cup division. The continent-crossing competition always provides for remarkable stories from the young racers, but this year’s adversity illustrated the type of institutional cooperation that America’s Automotive Trust was founded upon.
Lastly, I just had to share a fantastic story of redemption that literally landed on my front porch. While attending the Austin-Healey National Conclave in Elkhart Lake, I was
introduced to Kelly Evenson of Fort Worth, Texas, who gratefully agreed to share the personal story of her father’s Healey with the readers of OpenRoad. I think it’s a touching tale that we can all relate to.
All these stories serve to elucidate our vibrant, passionate and complicated relationships with the automobile. These are not stories of objects, but stories of people interacting with objects; imbuing them with personalities, creating memories and regarding them as family members. These cars and motorcycles are catalysts for bringing people together, for educating them, for challenging them, and taking them to new places.
It’s this intangible treasure trove of human experience that America’s Automotive Trust serves to promote, preserve and celebrate. With that in mind, please enjoy this issue of OpenRoad, and share it with your friends.
America’s
Continued from page 6
Manfred Scharmach, BMW Northwest, Northwest Mini, Seattle Mini, Northwest Pre-Owned Center – Fife, WA
Jonathan Shaw, Hemmings –Bennington, VT
Bruce Wanta, Spectrum Controls –Bellevue, WA
Edward Welburn, Emeritus, Sunset Pacific General Contractors –Bethlehem, PA
Jason Wenig, The Creative Workshop – Dania Beach, FL
Drew Weyerhaeuser, Auto Enthusiast – Tacoma, WA
James M. Will, Emeritus, Titus-Will Enterprises, Inc. – Tacoma, WA
STEERING COMMITTEE
Christopher Brewer, Hilton Head Island Concours d’Elegance – Hilton Head Island, SC
Jiyan K. Cadiz, Detroit Concours d'Elegance – Detroit, MI
Gill Campbell, Aero Marketing Group – Monterey, CA
John Carlson, National Association of Automobile Clubs of Canada Corporation – Belcarra, British Colombia, Canada
Dominic Dobson, Auto Enthusiast –Seattle, WA
Rick Dore, Rick Dore Kustoms –Carlsbad, CA
Nicolle Girard, Hagerty – Traverse City, MI
Alan Grant, LARGE Architecture –Los Angeles, CA
Peter Hageman, Suite 200 Automobile Collection – Kirkland, WA
William Hall, Auto Journalist –Elkhart Lake, WI
Suzanne Hight, Z Special Events –Mercer Island, WA
Andrew Hogan, Auto Enthusiast –Gig Harbor, WA
Paul Ianuario, Retired Curator of the BMW Zentrum – Duncan, SC
Rock Jenkins, State Farm, Retired –Gilbert, AZ
Leslie Mattson, National Corvette Museum – Mercer Island, WA
Al McEwan, Suite 200 Automobile Collection – Redmond, WA
Glenn Mounger, Pebble Beach Concours d’ Elegance – Bainbridge Island, WA
Josie Rimmer, DirtFish –Snoqualmie, WA
Pamela Chavez Rosen, External Advisor, Shell Oil Company –Houston, TX
Ken D. Ross, Auto Enthusiast –Detroit, MI
Blake Siebe, Northwest Auto Salon –Right Away Tire – Lynwood, WA
William Smallwood III, American Mutual Insurance Services, Inc. –Monroe, WA
Jeff Stumb, The Great Race –Chattanooga, TN
Kristen Wells, Avants – Tacoma, WA
Gina Zinn, State Farm – Tacoma, WA
Nuturing the Mechanical Instinct
By Peter Egan
Last fall I took our car to a local repair shop to have some snow tires mounted. The usually affable owner was standing at the counter, staring out the window with a slightly troubled, faraway look in his eyes.
He snapped out of it and turned to me suddenly.
“You write for a car magazine, don’t you?” he asked. I admitted I occasionally did, but was mostly retired now.
“Well why don’t you write an article about how it’s impossible to find young people now who know how to fix anything? If we advertise for an apprentice mechanic, maybe one guy shows up. And when I ask if he’s ever worked on cars he says, ‘Well, I helped my dad change a flat one time.’ They’ve never handled any tools and their idea of a job is looking at a computer screen.” He shook his head sadly. “I just had to fire a kid who was bright enough but just didn’t know how to do anything useful.”
I hated to tell the man that even though I spent most of the Seventies as a full-time car mechanic, there are very few repair jobs I would care to tackle on a modern car. Such as the new Honda CRV hybrid my wife bought last week. Though I could probably do the brakes, tires, oil changes or even rebuild the engine, the world of electronic diagnostics and computer-controlled anything is well beyond me. I’m happiest working on cars built before about 1974.
Obviously, I need to spend more time staring at a computer screen.
But it’s probably those nuts-and-bolts, hands-on mechanical skills that the shop owner was looking for in a new employee, and they do seem to be on the wane.
This separation of intellect from physical reality is a trend that hasn’t gone unnoticed, of course. It was a theme that ran through the pages of Robert Pirsig’s bestseller, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance years ago, and it’s the central focus of the more recent Shopcraft as Soulcraft by Matthew Crawford. Jay Leno also wrote a dead-on column some time ago about the gradual disappearance of craftspeople who specialize in some particular aspect of automotive restoration – metal plating, radiator repair, etc. – leaving no one to replace them.
I’ve run into this problem on a few of my own projects. Apparently, rebuilding Lucas generators or Vincent magnetos isn’t high on the tech school curriculum any more. Time marches on.
But I’ve never been sure how you inspire young people – or anyone else – to develop an interest in hands-on mechanical work. Some are interested in these things and others simply are not. And still others are mesmerized by their cell phones. But for those who show a budding fascination with cars, motorcycles, airplanes and other romantic modes of transportation, I think there are ways to enhance the level of technical involvement. My own father perfected one of them.
I think his basic unwritten rule was: Don’t ever buy your kids anything expensive. Let them be inspired by desire and vanity.
I desperately wanted a go-kart when I was 12 years old, so my dad told me to save my money and go build one. I mowed lawns all summer, bought a used frame for $25 and gradually acquired the parts for a racing kart, one component at a time. I bought a used Homelite engine, a new aluminum live axle with Fafnir bearings, Giant-brand magnesium wheels and Carlisle racing slicks. That spring, our go-kart track closed, so I spent the summer doing timed laps around our local cemetery, when funerals were not actually in progress.
Next came the mini-bike phase. Same advice from dad about building my own. The recipe here was one old bicycle frame, a used Briggs & Stratton 1-1/2 horse engine from a broken cement mixer, two 12-inch wheelbarrow wheels, a pair of bicycle sprockets and a homemade reduction shaft with two V-belt pulleys. All welding was done by a patient adult named Maynard Morgan at a local car repair shop. I spent my 13th summer riding (illegally and underage) all over the backroads of Wisconsin’s hill country and visiting friends on farms.
These were all good lessons in basic wrench-turning, but nothing taught me quite as much as the used car I bought in 1967 when I was a sophomore in college.
Here came lesson number two, which was largely self-inflicted: If you want to learn auto mechanics in your spare time, just buy a coollooking old car you can’t really afford to own.
The car in this case was a $450 British Racing Green 1957 TR-3A. This recently repainted, Bondo-filled roadster looked great (except from underneath) but had been badly neglected by previous owners.
I don’t think I ever drove it anywhere without having at least one thing go wrong. Hoses blew, belts snapped, plug wires sizzled, wheel bearings failed, the wiring loom caught fire when I honked the horn, inner tubes were punctured by loose spokes, and so on. Wind blast from a passing semi snapped off the chrome-plated hinges on the open trunk lid while I was repairing a flat next to the Interstate.
You were not allowed to park your own car on campus then unless you had a permit to use a small lot near the dorms, so I parked the car off-campus, behind an abandoned gas station. I spent invaluable hours in that back lot with my small toolbox, learning how cars are constructed. And de-constructed, in all kinds of weather. Replacement parts came from a scrapyard at the edge of the city, which just happened to have three rusted-out TR-3s sinking into their oil-saturated soil. I couldn’t afford new parts from the local Triumph dealer.
The car kept me flat broke at all times, so in mid-summer I sold it and bought a used Honda CB-160 motorcycle. Which took me on a trouble-free trip across Canada that fall.
I later took night-school tech courses in welding, machine shop and engine rebuilding, worked for seven years as a foreign car mechanic and made a lifetime hobby of restoring and racing cars.
But probably nothing gave me so firm a footing in mechanical work as aspiring to the ownership of vehicles that were just beyond my means. And which my dad, perhaps wisely, declined to buy on my behalf.
Perhaps.
AAT ROADTEST
Polarized Self-Indulging in a 2024 Polaris Slingshot
Is it a motorcycle? Is it a car? Yes. No. Both. Neither. It turns out the Polaris Slingshot defies definitions, but invariably delivers fun. Haters gonna hate, but it’s unlikely they’ve ever actually driven one of these 203 hp, 1,640 lb. sports machines. The permanent grin would give them away.
Autocycles, like this 2024 Polaris Slingshot R, have been around since the dawn of the automobile, characterized by three wheels, a steering wheel versus handlebars, and side-by-side seating. All that’s required to operate an autocycle is a standard driver’s license in most states. Not to be confused with trikes, the Slingshot runs and drives like a top-tier sportscar that puts the operator in the elements with the spartan experience of a motorcycle.
Putting people in the elements is the mission of Minnesota-based Polaris, which produces both Indian motorcycles and the Polaris Utility Terrain Vehicle line of RZRs, Rangers and Xpeditions, the latter of which are quietly reinventing transportation in rural America, one township at a time. A growing number of communities now allow these UTVs to legally operate on their roads, and Polaris has just constructed its first publicly partnered 100-mile off-road EV trail complete with charging stations in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Success for the pilot project will blueprint the development of EV transportation infrastructure to off-the-grid areas.
Which is good perspective when considering the street-legal Slingshot, because the ambition of the parent company seems to be more than just
producing a quirky-looking roadgoing vehicle. The Slingshot feels like a ground-up attempt at what a sports car should be; a cleanslate approach to make an uncompromising sports machine for the tarmac, tradition be damned.
The experience is not for everybody, but it is for anyone
Crossing into a lifestyle product, the Slingshot has cultivated buyers at the margins of the enthusiast vehicle demographic, finding unexpected resonance with women, ethnic groups and first-time buyers in the sector. Polaris reports that 85% of its Slingshot buyers last year had never owned a Polaris product previously, and “new Slingshot owners were twice as likely to be multicultural (non-white) and included 90% more women than other Polaris brands.” In only the first decade of its production, the Slingshot has found its niche in American culture, with an iconoclastic group of devotees who customize and congregate with their beloved Slingshots, often citing the sense of community the vehicle affords them.
So, what’s it like? I recently had a week to evaluate the Army Green Flash, 5-speed equipped (automatic transmissions are now optional) 2024 Slingshot R pictured here, featuring the newly-tuned 2.0 liter, 4-cylinder Polaris ProStar engine producing 203 hp at 8,250 RPM. Unfortunately, this version was not equipped with Slingshot’s factory optional hardtop or softop, and a week-long rain turned into a test of both driver and machine, perhaps providing some valuable insight for the 99% of us who don’t live in Scottsdale.
The vehicle’s open cockpit endured the rain well, with drain holes in the floor moving water out and water-resistant components like you’d expect from this outdoor powersports manufacturer. An optional, highly recommended windshield fitted to the Sling-
shot R kept light rain out of most of the cockpit while driving. The seats, both heated and cooled on this R-model, are thinly padded but seem comfortable enough for light touring. A fully-adjustable sport steering wheel and a manual shifter were well placed, as were the digital gauges and center navigation screen. Seatbelts are reverse mounted, with retractors inboard between the seats and buckles outboard.
There is a great 360-degree view from the driver’s seat, overlooking deeply sculpted, wide fenders and a hood bulge evocative of mid-century racing cars. Contemporary, angular styling replete with air scoops, extractors and stripe kits update the look for the Tranformers movie generation. To sit in the cockpit is to completely forget about the radical exterior appearance and lack of a fourth wheel. You are now Speed Racer in the Mach 5, and you could care less about whatever image you’re projecting, because you’re simply having too much fun. My full-face helmet – which some states may require – and motorcycle rainsuit only added to the purposefulness of the adventure.
Engine noise from the fuel-injected 2.0-liter Polaris powerplant is a pleasant burble at idle, turning to a lusty rip at 8,250 RPM. The paddle-shifted automatic transmission shift points will take you right up to redline (I had a chance to sample that version as well) so why would I deny myself that pleasure with the 5-speed? The engine is still pulling hard at peak RPM for those who wish to play on that side of the tachometer.
Traction assist is superb in the wet and dry, and the handling reassuring. On dry acceleration, I banged off three crisp shifts that rewarded me with chirps from the rear tire, but under torque in the wet it’s easier to break it loose on the center grease strip.
Published 0-60 times are 4.9 seconds with an electronically limited top-speed of 125mph, all of which seems much faster in the groundhugging open cockpit of the Slingshot.
Massive Brembo 4-piston calipers on 339 mm rotors provide impeccable stopping power for the front 225/45 R18 Kenda SS tires, which are proprietary to the Slingshot as the tread pattern funnels water outboard of the vehicle, reducing hydroplaning on the sole rear center tire. To offer some rough sense of scale, my 2004 Maserati sports coupe has an identical wheelbase but a 9-inch narrower front track, and it’s 29 inches longer overall and 2,038 lbs. heavier.
For the tech savvy, the Slingshot R package includes CarPlay, RIDE COMMAND+ live weather/traffic/vehicle health, Bluetooth and USB connectivity, and a back-up camera. A seemingly limitless selection of factory options – including seats, wheels, paint colors, accents, storage solutions, roofs, pedals, windshields, audio upgrades and lighting packages – makes personalization a prime motivator in Slingshot purchases. As equipped, this Slingshot R topped out at $39,908. By comparison, a 2024 Harley-Davidson Tri Glide Ultra trike – another special interest three-wheeler with its own tribe – starts at $37,999. All of which puts this vehicle in both a polarizing and paradoxical headspace. Stripped-down, but fully-loaded. Street legal, but not DOT crash-compliant. Weather resistant, but open air. Part motorcycle, part car. At some point, the mind stops trying to define the Polaris Slingshot in conventional terms, and just appreciates that there’s a lot of people out there having fun in the Slingshot community and experience, growing our hobby in unexpected ways. You’ll never know if you’re one of them until you drive it yourself.
“La Dolce “La Dolce ON
Vita “
Vita “ TWO WHEELS
There was a time – before the internet, cell phones and globalization – when the world was a mystery, open to firsthand discovery and adventure for those who dared to journey beyond the comfort of their hearths. Today, travel has been made safe and commercialized in palatable nuggets to expectant consumers. Finding truly authentic experiences in the modern world has never been harder.
The Concours Club’s tradition is to offer curated travel opportunities to those members who seek epicurean experiences paired with our love of cars and motorcycles. To that end, we’ve partnered with RIDE 70s, an Italian-based motorcycle touring company, to host a 2025 Concours Club trip that delivers a pure experience of Italy from the seat of a classic 1970’s era motorcycle.
OpenRoad editor William Hall joined RIDE 70’s for their inaugural Amalfi Coast Spring Raid this past April to see just how much wine, pasta, camaraderie and scenery he could pack into six days of riding vintage motorcycles.
It’s a dubious bucket-list item to be sure, but I’ve always wanted to experience the traffic in Naples, Italy. The vehicular chaos of the ancient city is legendary even among native Italians. It’s perhaps the most schizophrenic driving in the Western world, yet there’s a natural flow to it, like a salmon run or a sparrow migration. Nonetheless, I knew I’d want no part of it in a rental car. The only way I’d attempt it would be on a motorcycle.
Which may sound counterintuitive, but Italy is one of the greatest countries in the world for motorcycling. Even in the fender-skirting mayhem of Naples, being on a bike still feels safer than riding in many North American cities. Many if not most Italian motorists have scooter or cycle experience, and extend their awareness and respect to those on two wheels.
With that in mind, I arrived in the Neapolitan suburb of Ercolano, perhaps better known by its archeological name of Herculaneum, the affluent Roman seaside resort that was buried by the eruption of nearby Vesuvius in 79 AD. Today, a few villas and aging resorts dot its black lava seashore, and shabby greenhouses perch on its tufa igneous rock. It’s a town that feels as if it’s never fully rebuilt; afraid to make any lasting structures lest it again tempt the volcano.
Checking into the family-owned luxury residence of Casa Raiola, it was easy to evoke the Roman decadence of millennia past. A gated home divided into separate apartments, it featured an in-house spa, outdoor pool and an elegant group dining table in a cavernous keep underneath the palazzo. And there around the beautiful courtyard, displayed like the works of art they are, was the RIDE 70s fleet of vintage motorcycles. Norton, Laverda, BMW, Yamaha, Ducati, Moto Guzzi, Triumph, Benelli, Aermacchi, Kawasaki, Honda…the brightest stars from the boldest era of modern motorcycles.
There’d be plenty of time to ogle our rides, but first a group lunch. And the first of many authentic Neapolitan pizzas, so sublime in its execution that it induced a bit of soul-searching: What’s wrong in my life that I can’t eat like this every day? These questions lingered and intensified with each subsequent meal.
Touring motorcyclists tend to be interesting people, erudite and accomplished. Hailing from the U.K., Denmark, Emirates, Spain, Switzerland, Ukraine and Germany, our group of 16 men and women engaged in fascinating conversation (in English) fueled by flowing wine and a mutual love for adventure. They also turned out to be very good motorcyclists, who rode sensibly and within their limits.
Our tour leaders were RIDE 70s founders Fabio Affuso and Pietro Cassio Pirazzoli, native sons and accomplished riders. Fabio worked as a professional photographer in London before launching this passion project with Pietro, a furniture designer and motorcycle collector who maintains the fleet at the RIDE 70s clubhouse in the mountaintop Republic of San Marino in northeast Italy. Pietro guided the riders the way a good shepherd tends to a flock, while Fabio seemed to draw upon personal relationships with every hotelier, restauranteur, bus driver and fishmonger up and down the Amalfi Coast. By all measures, we felt in good hands.
That first night, we rode up the side of the sleeping Vesuvius for an aperitivo overlooking the Bay of Naples and lights of the vibrant city below. Ripping through the cool night on our vintage motorcycles, each one a thing of beauty, felt richly subversive to the status quo. Again, out-of-body rhetorical questions to myself: Who gets to do this? I do, apparently.
For every good glass of wine in Italy, there is an equally satisfying cappuccino. That next morning we departed for Positano under grey skies, which turned to moderate rain by mid-morning. A perfect opportunity to warm up in a local bar with a coffee and croissant before heading down the coast. I was astride a 1976 Moto Guzzi LeMans 850, the legendary V-twin, shaft-driven café racer now amongst the most coveted of the classic Guzzis. It was surprisingly surefooted in the wet cutbacks of the coastal cliff road, which we took at an easy pace, lest we miss lunch.
Ah, lunch. Those long, languorous Amalfi Coast lunches, truly one of Italy’s cultural gifts to the world. At the cliffside Trattoria San Gennaro, we stripped off our soggy riding gear, basked lazily in the emerging sun and leaned-in to pranzo. First antipasto, of course, followed by a primo (first course) of pasta. If you made it that far, perhaps a secondo (second course) of meat or fish. An insalata of fresh greens to cleanse the palate. Wine throughout, followed by a digestivo of local meloncello, a smooth, chilled shot of melonflavored liqueur. Espresso, and dolci (desserts). The process – and it is a curated process – will take 2-3 hours. People will get up, stretch their legs, smoke a cigarette, leave the group for quiet reflection, and then return. You dine as if there is no place to be. You have arrived. This is your destination.
After a two-hour ride onwards and a subsequent gelato stop, we quit for the night at a lovely inn just south of Amalfi called Limoneto di Ercole, perched a few meters off the cliffside road on a terraced lemon grove overlooking a small beach. Its vine-covered arbor and Tyrrhenian Sea sunset were a stunning backdrop for our lineup of classic motorcycles. A few of us took in the view with some local amaro, an herbal liqueur, before boarding a private coach for dinner at a nearby family-run seafood restaurant.
Our itinerary called for almost daily stops at swimming holes, but the weather dictated otherwise, so that next morning we pressed on inland through Cilento National Park, climbing hills through ancient olive groves and medieval villages. Here was our fastest riding of the trip, rarely encountering any other traffic.
I’ve seen a hundred churches in Europe, but none compared to the Grotta di San Michele Arcangelo located in the remote mountain town of Sant’ Angelo a Fasanella. Carved out of a mountain cave, the site was as much a geological treasure as a holy shrine. It wasn’t open to the public, but of course Fabio “knew a guy,” and had arranged a private tour for us. Afterwards, we rode to Roscigno Vecchia, a true Italian ghost town abandoned in the early 20th century due to landslides. Both spots are unlikely to be included in any commercial tour, as they were nearly inaccessible by anything larger than our trusty motorcycles.
Riding through a narrow cobblestone street in the walled city of Corletto Monforte, we stopped at a cozy bar filled with local pensioners playing cards. A quick aperitivo and we were off to our evening accommodation, Agriturismo
Terra Nostra, an inn that produces all its food from its own farm. The matriarch and her staff were warm and funny, genuinely enjoying our group as they pummeled us into submission with course after course of local specialties from the kitchen.
At each stop our bikes were given prominent parking, making for a moving motorcycle show with ever-changing spectacular backdrops. Seeing these classic bikes set against yet another stunning sunset, you begin to wonder – as all good travel provokes – if this could somehow be your life. If you could, somehow, live this free. I began to understand why Fabio and Pietro started RIDE 70s. They were determined to do just that.
“We had no interest in doing what everybody else is doing with tours,” said Fabio. “Far from the current trend of adventure and off-road, we offer a very different experience: one of timeless beauty, learning, pleasures of life and likeminded good people.”
“RIDE 70s tours are a motorcycle experience like no other and likely not for everybody. Someone called it ‘La Dolce Vita’, and we couldn’t agree more. For us it’s about the pleasure and rare experience of riding these unique machines. Beautiful in appearance and exciting to ride, they offer an ‘organic’ feeling no modern bike can. The smell, the (good) vibrations, the ritual like process of starting them, the sound.
“Ultimately, we felt classic bikes were more fitted to the type of beautiful tours we wanted to create. Their pace, their elegance and their ritual-like operation go hand-in-hand with the classic beauty we strive for in our tours, with the old towns, the boutique historical hotels, the delicious original dinners. Classic bikes are elegant and have a timeless beauty that we try and reflect in all aspects of our tours.”
It’s every enthusiast’s dream to have a collection of vintage motorcycles, let alone roadworthy examples. While most of us don’t have the resources to make this happen, with the RIDE 70s experience you don’t have to. It might be the chance of a lifetime to ride a Kawasaki Z1, a Laverda SF or a Norton Commando. And if a bike has a mechanical issue – as they do – you can swap it for another from the RIDE 70s chase truck. A small charging issue with one of Moto Guzzis gave us the chance to experience the 1971 Benelli Tornado 650 in action, a motorcycle rarely seen or ridden in North America.
It never got old riding to the next meal, especially when dining at the sea. A quick dip down to the shore at Marina di Pisciotta for some fresh seafood before heading back up into the mountains to spend our penultimate night in Castellabate in a stunning cliffside luxury residence. At sunset, we had aperitivos on the rooftop before taking over a nearby restaurant, then partied with locals at a village bar with live music until the wee hours. We drank and danced; celebrating the ride, the experience and the new friendships.
Castellabate is a stone’s throw from the ancient ruins at Paestum, a UNESCO Heritage site with three of the best-preserved Greek temples in the world. We ate a late breakfast there before slowly winding our way back towards Naples, stopping for lunch above the town of Gragnano, known for its bronze-dried wheat pasta and sparkling red wines. These group lunches felt like family meals –the kind of long happy tables you see on television spaghetti sauce commercials – and were an element of the trip that I dearly miss.
Interested in the Concours Club/RIDE 70s Italian motorcycle trip in 2025? Contact Valerie O’Shea at execasst@aat.org for details.
Blasting back into Naples on the autostrada, my dubious wish was finally fulfilled – bumper to bumper chaotic traffic, in a tunnel no less! For added drama, my Guzzi LeMans was running low on gas.
But thanks to these last six days of challenging touring, I was a different rider than I was before. Confident on my beautiful loaner bike, I split lanes through the logjam of cars con brio like a native Neapolitan.
Reflecting on our journey with these fantastic machines, Fabio waxed poetic. “In this modern world where everything is ultraautomated, controlled and safeguarded, the experience element is reduced to consumerism. With a classic bike you have to learn, you have to work, you have to understand to make it operate. It’s a real experience. One of discovery and improving instead of regressing into automation apathy.”
Bridging culture, language and background through a shared love of classic motorcycles, the RIDE 70s experience delivered that most profound of travel souvenirs – lifelong memories and lasting inspiration. If only everyday could be a little more like this.
The annual Wheels & Heels gala took center stage at LeMay — America’s Car Museum, celebrating our rich community of car enthusiasts and supporters in a black-tie affair that has become the A-list event of the Pacific Northwest social scene. For once, the stunning cars of ACM took a backseat to the fashion and elegance of the atttendees. Thank you to everone who made the gala a fantastic fundraising success for America’s Automotive Trust.
It’s always a special and intimate evening at the Concours Club annual gathering, where Trust leaders and principal supporters gather to acknowledge and celebrate their own.
Receiving their Concours Club jackets were Edward & Carmen Brooks, Yahn W. Bernier & N. Elizabeth McCaw, Alan & Tamara Granberg, Richard& ScarletGriotand Bob & Shelley Tomberg.
We thank all Concours Club members for their steadfast support of America’s Automotive Trust, the RPM Foundation, Club Auto and LeMay –America’s Car Museum.
Each year, America’s Automotive Trust recognizes those persons in the automotive heritage community who have made an impact. 2024’s awardees include extraordinary individuals from the worlds of racing, concours, restoration and collecting. We salute our annual honorees and will continue to celebrate them throughout the year.
PRESIDENT’S AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING SERVICE
Nancy
LeMay
Nancy LeMay and her husband Harold amassed the largest automotive collection in the world during their more than 30 years of marriage. While Harold was largely credited with finding and acquiring vehicles, Nancy was fully his partner supporting his passion. Upon Harold’s death in November 2002, Nancy assumed the responsibility to pursue his dream to build a museum to preserve their collection. During the major campaign to build the museum, she supported
the name change to “LeMay – America’s Car Museum,” understanding that a national effort was needed. Furthermore, she pledged the cars to form the collection and made the lead gift to the campaign in the amount of $20 million. The museum opened on June 12, 2012, to thousands of visitors and cited by USA TODAY as one of the Top-8 Cultural Attractions in the World to open that year. Since then, Nancy has remained an active board member as Emerita Trustee, embracing the vision of the museum as the crown jewel of America’s Automotive Trust and as one of the most important automobile museums in the world. It is no exaggeration to state that without Nancy LeMay, there would be no America’s Car Museum, and Harold’s dream would not have been realized.
THE NICOLA BULGARI AWARD
Sandra Button
Sandra Button, Chairman of the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, is recognized as one of the most important persons in the collector car world with wideranging involvements in the most prestigious international automotive events. Sandra has guided the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance since 1986, first serving as its Executive Director, and as Chairman since 2002. Her leadership has shaped the character of the Concours as she established its first Selection
Committee, expanded the range of cars shown and the numbers of participants from overseas. Her belief that classic cars should be driven, not just displayed, led to the creation of the Pebble Beach Motoring Classic and the Tour d‘Elegance. These along with the creation of Pebble Beach Classic Car Forums and Retro Auto have made the Concours what it is today—consistently ranked as the top-ranked Concours d’Elegance in the world. A member of the Royal Automobile Club, Classic Car Club of America and Society of Automotive Historians, Sandra was recently named by Magneto magazine as one of The Top Ten Most Influential People in the Collector Car World.
THE HAGERTY MASTER COLLECTOR AWARD
Steven Thomas Rimmer
Steven Thomas Rimmer is currently the Chief Executive Officer of Altavair L.P. and has been involved in the commercial aviation industry including world-wide aircraft and engine trading activities for over 35 years. Mr. Rimmer co-founded Altavair in 2003 as a joint venture with Guggenheim Partners and remains responsible for its overall strategy
and management of over $3 billion of Boeing and Airbus aircraft. Prior to Altavair LLC, Mr. Rimmer founded XS Aviation Ltd., a commercial aircraft investment management and advisory company in 2000. Before XS, he co-founded Curtis & Company, a boutique aviation lease and finance arranging company, where he remained a principal in charge of its London office from 1991 through 1999. Mr. Rimmer, an avid collector of European rally cars, also founded DirtFish Rally School in Snoqualmie, WA. Based around his love for rally and his desire to see the sport grow in the US, the school now sees an average of 3,000 students per year and partnered with Subaru who outfits the DirtFish fleet.
THE JAY C. ACKLEY MASTER CRAFTSMAN AWARD
Steve Babinsky
Steve Babinsky is widely recognized as one of the nation’s master craftsmen in the collector car community. Steve’s stellar restorations have won numerous 1st in Class Awards at the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, including a Best of Show award for his restoration of a 1928 Mercedes-Benz S Barker Tourer.
As owner of Automotive Restorations, Inc. in Lebanon, New Jersey, he leads an extremely busy operation with more than 20 employees. A good number of
the classic cars he has restored are listed in the Classic Car Club of America Registry, a testament to the caliber of his work. He loves the art and craft of restoration, but those who know him well know his passion for driving original, preserved but unrestored cars with his wife Susan on CCCA CARavans or simply for pleasure. He is a past-president and board member of the Classic Car Club of America, and serves the CCCA as Chairman of Technical Services, member of the Classification Committee, and National Head Judge. Steve’s passion for restoration extends beyond the automobile. He and Susan are restoring an 18th-century farm which includes a large stone house, barn, and grist mill along the Delaware River.
THE EDWARD T. WELBURN AUTOMOTIVE DESIGNER AWARD
Jim Hall
Jim Hall is an American racing legend who designed, built and raced the revolutionary Chaparral sports cars which made him famous in the 1960s. As a driver, Hall won the 1962 Road America 500 race at Elkhart Lake, the 1964 U.S. Road Racing Championship and the 1965 Sebring 12 Hours race with co-pilot Hal Sharp. Haas-Hall race teams won 3 consecutive SCCA Formula 5000 championships in the Sixties. In international sports car racing, his Chaparrals won
the 1966 Nürburgring 1000 and the 1967 BOAC Six-Hours at Brands Hatch, England. His initial entry at the Indianapolis 500 in 1978 resulted in a win with Al Unser behind the wheel. That same combination of designer/ builder/racer won the 500-mile races at Pocono and Ontario Raceways that same year. Two years later, Johnny Rutherford won the Indy 500 for Hall in a Chaparral/Cosworth – the first car to have “ground effects.” Jim’s design innovations are numerous, and include elevated rear wings on vertical struts, a driver-adjustable rear wing to increase downforce, an automatic transmission for racing and the controversial J2 “vacuum cleaner,” featuring two rearmounted fans to create suction beneath the car for superior cornering ability.
By Nick Ellis RPM Foundation Executive Director
RPM and the 2024 Great Race:
With a Lot of Help From Our Friends
This year, the 2024 Great Race, a 2,300-mile time-speeddistance rally, took over 130 teams from Owensboro, Kentucky to Gardiner, Maine. Among the various team classes, the RPM Foundation’s X-Cup student division had its best year yet, marking a significant milestone with the maximum ten student teams participating for the first time in the Race’s history. This achievement was complemented by record-breaking fundraising efforts during the race’s opening and closing banquets, highlighting the growing support and enthusiasm for the next generation of vehicle restoration experts.
Since RPM Foundation assumed administration of the X-Cup division in 2021, there’s been a remarkable transformation. Initially, the division struggled with recruitment, funding, and recognition among Great Race participants. The number of teams had dwindled to just three, with only $20,000 in reserve funding. To revitalize this important youth division, RPM immediately increased the grants from $1,000 to $2,500 per team and initiated a robust strategy to boost recruitment and fundraising.
The culmination of these efforts was evident at the 2024 Great Race opening banquet, where 35 enthusiastic young participants
from ten teams stood ready to embark on their rally journey. Brad Phillips served as auctioneer for the night, tirelessly working to raise the bids on each donated item to benefit the X-Cup. When the gavel fell on the final item, we had surpassed our previous high auction amount by over $10,000, with a $40,000 final amount. A personal contribution from one of the Great Racers brought us to $45,000. Adding to the total was a pickup truck donated by one of the participants, which was auctioned off at the closing banquet for $18,000, bringing the grand total to $63,000 – completely burying the previous auction record.
While the X-Cup fundraising was firing on all cylinders, the same unfortunately could not be said for the RPM Foundation’s loaned 1959 Plymouth Savoy. Our friends at the Savoy Museum in Cartersville, Georgia, did a lot to get the car ready for our team, but unfortunately a cooling issue caused cylinders 5 and 6 to burn through their rings and completely lose compression on day four of the Race. After numerous attempts to diagnose the issue as anything other than piston rings (and a long journey through the stages of grief), we finally called time of death on the Savoy at 11pm on Tuesday night.
Our only option to stay in the Race was to find a replacement car. Even though our scores would no longer count in the final rankings, our team still wanted to complete the Race in a proper rally car. But at 11pm in Frostburg, Maryland, who would come to our rescue with a pre-1974 car that could withstand the rigors of the Race ahead of us?
Enter Keith Flickinger and the NB Center. Responding to our latenight plea for help, Keith offered the NB Center’s 1963 Buick Riviera. After a swift journey to Allentown and some quick modifications by the Precision Motorcars team, the Riviera was ready to race. The students’ joy and gratitude were palpable as they were back on the road with a car affectionately named “River,” symbolizing their resilience and adaptability. The Riviera performed impeccably for the remainder of the race, covering the final 1,500 miles and helping the team cross the finish line in Gardiner, Maine.
The Great Race remains a positive environment for the young people in the X-Cup division. Everyone – from the Great Race staff to the other division teams to the teams within the X-Cup itself – are exceptionally kind, helpful, and engaged in the culture that brings us together. This year was no different, but this year the community extended outside of the Race to Keith and his team, without whom RPM would have been standing on the sidelines rather than crossing the finish.
The 2024 Great Race was not just a test of endurance and skill but a celebration of community, mentorship, and the timeless appeal of classic cars. It demonstrated that with determination, support, and a shared passion, even the greatest challenges can be overcome. RPM Foundation extends its deepest gratitude to everyone who made this journey possible, especially Keith Flickinger, the Precision Motorcars staff, and the NB Center. Here’s to the enduring legacy of classic cars and the bright future of the young minds dedicated to preserving them.
Shock, Grief, Anger, & Acceptance:
Finding Solace through Restoring a Piece of Family History
Story and photos by Kelly Evenson
Robert Evenson became seriously interested in sports cars around 1950 when he helped with security and traffic control for the original Elkhart Lake Road Races. At 19 years old, he had the opportunity to have a practice ride in a 1.5L Ferrari and to see machinery like Briggs Cunningham’s Chrysler-powered monsters. One could say Robert was hooked.
He was working as a design engineer for Trackson Company when, in March of 1956, Robert spotted a gorgeous, blue Austin-Healey 100 BN2 in the showroom of Wisconsin Auto Sales in downtown Milwaukee. He stopped by the next day, put down a $15 deposit and was soon the proud owner of this Austin-Healey. That transaction also included trading in his 1951 Ford 2-door sedan, effectively making the Healey his daily driver. And yes, he did live and work in Wisconsin, not the most hospitable weather for a year-round roadster.
After attending the 1958 12 Hours of Sebring, Robert started to think that perhaps he could become Wisconsin’s version of Juan Manuel Fangio or Stirling Moss. It took only a few races back home to convince him that he didn’t have the talent, equipment or finances to compete in the 2.5-3L class. This reminded Robert of the old joke about someone asking the racecar driver in the hospital, “What happened?” And the guy says, “People were passing me so fast; I thought I was stopped. So, I got out to see what the problem was.”
While the Healey’s amateur racing life was short-lived, her days were not relegated to simply commuting to and from the office. She enjoyed extensive travel throughout Wisconsin. Robert had issues with the factory paint and ultimately had the car completely repainted in the same Healey blue color, adding a racing stripe down the middle. This all happened when the car was less than two years old.
Robert meets his match
In 1958, The Caterpillar Corporation opened a new manufacturing plant in the Chicago suburbs, and Robert was one of the Milwaukee engineers who transferred to this facility… with all his belongings in the boot (trunk) of the Healey. It was at this new office where Robert soon met his future wife, Diana Dunn. As fate would have it, Diana loved sports cars also, and she took great interest in the small British convertible that suddenly appeared in the parking lot. Diana herself wanted a racing green Jaguar XK120, but her mother wouldn’t even allow her to get a driver’s license. Diana’s mother transported her to and from the office every day as her workplace was nearby. Being the keen observer, Robert took note and one day asked Diana if he could drive her home. Why, yes ... yes you can!
Robert and Diana wed on August 29, 1959, and, not surprisingly, drove the Healey to Wisconsin for their honeymoon.
Diana resigned from Caterpillar after the birth of their first child, Kevin, in July of 1960. I joined the family in January of 1963, and second daughter, Erin, brought the total to three sprouts in November of 1972.
Dad taught Mom how to drive, and she finally got her driver’s license. But that coveted green Jaguar XK120 looked eerily like a Corinthian White 1960 Ford Country Sedan Station Wagon. That Ford was replaced by a Jaguar that was a dead ringer for a Fathom Blue 1967 Pontiac Executive Safari Station Wagon. These cars, as well as a Yuba Gold over white 1976 Chevrolet Suburban Silverado, not only shuttled the family around town, but they also transported us on countless cross-country trips and impromptu adventures throughout the United States.
But, it was the Austin-Healey that played a prominent role in my earliest childhood memories.
And what wonderful memories they are ...
Every weekday afternoon when we were quite young, Kevin and I stood in front of the large picture window at home, listening with anticipation for the distinct Healey rumble, announcing Dad’s return home from the office. I was maybe 3-4 years old. There was a controlled intersection about a half mile away, and we could clearly hear the different engine sounds as Dad shifted gears. It was a beautiful sound and may very well be the foundation of my lifelong appreciation for sports cars, especially vintage ones. Sports Cars in Stereo was also in the family album collection, which tells you how much we enjoyed listening to the “music”. I sometimes ponder the idea that gas-powered vehicles will one day be replaced by silent electrics. Hopefully, not in my lifetime. Hey, being old has its advantages.
There were Sunday morning doughnut runs. I like to think that this was every Sunday morning, however, it was more than likely once a month. Dad would give Mom about a 45-minute break by driving us kids over to the local bakery to pick up a dozen of the most incredible made-from-scratch, fresh-out-of-the-fryer, chocolate-covered cake doughnuts. My brother sat in the passenger seat, and I sat on “the hump;” my seatbelt was Dad’s outstretched arm.
I also remember at least one exciting return trip home from the local A&P grocery store, trying to outrun an ominous storm that was quickly rolling in. Dad figured he could drive home faster than it would take to get the top back up on the Healey.
The Healey was a symbol of adventure, strength, individuality, ingenuity, confidence, courage, and spontaneity. The Healey was my father.
Ever-changing priorities
Dad continued daily driving the Healey until a series of events forced him to garage the car in 1973:
1. Illinois and Wisconsin weather and winter road treatments (salt and other chemicals) do not treat cars of this era too kindly. The lower sections of the doors and fenders started to rust badly.
2. The clutch pedal started to go down when he applied the brake; investigation revealed the grease was not getting to both pedals. He oiled and greased everything, but it got worse. Now, the brake was applied when the clutch pedal was depressed. Obviously, he could not live with his head hitting the windscreen every time he used the clutch, so he temporarily tied a rope to the brake pedal. He would sit on the end of the rope to maintain tension.
3. The coup de grâce occurred when someone cut him off at an intersection, doing a number on the Healey’s left front fender and headlight.
Dad had good intentions. He built a larger garage, got the Healey up on stands, acquired welding equipment, etc. Unfortunately, the poor Healey became the victim of priorities. Family and job responsibilities kept pushing this project lower on the to-do list. He joined a daily carpool to the office.
The Healey waited patiently to someday enjoy life on the road again. During this period of idleness, she provided shelter to untold numbers of animals, served as an additional cabinet for spare car parts, and functioned as a shelving unit for plastic bins, stacks of boxes, books, camping equipment, scrap pieces of wood and more. I wonder what she thought, as the days turned to weeks, months, years –and ultimately decades – of immobility.
On a seemingly ordinary September evening in 2006, my father suddenly and unexpectedly chose to depart this world. How could that be? We’d talked on the phone just an hour earlier; it was no different than any of our regular weekday conversations where we shared highlights of our day. When I spoke corporate babble, oftentimes my father laughed and reiterated that he was sure glad he was retired.
Based on his wound, the nocturnist advised that my father was brain dead and would require life support to survive. Knowing this was against my father’s wishes, Mom and I took turns talking to him in the hospital throughout the night and into the early morning until he took his last breath. At some point during the night, I whispered to him the following two promises: (1) that I would take care of Mom and (2) that I would restore the Healey back to her glory days. Since my priority was to support my mother, I put my own grief and mental health on hold and did not allow myself to fully process what had happened. I appeared strong, but behind the façade, I led a dazed existence peppered with tears, screams, guilt, angst, and self-pity.
I’m not exactly sure where those years went. I do know my plans to move to Colorado were put on indefinite hold, and my career title changed several times, which meant more responsibility, more hours, more money, and a bit more stress. But
work kept my mind busy. And when I wasn’t at work or thinking about work, I was making sure Mom kept active and engaged.
While sorting through paperwork one day, Mom uncovered the title to the AustinHealey. She gave the title to me with the belief that I was the only one in the family who would and could resurrect this once beautiful machine. My mother had no knowledge of the promise I made to my father.
Out of Sight. Out of Mind.
At the time, I owned a cute little 1954 bungalow. But since it had a single-car garage (I know…who in their right mind builds a garage for only one car?!) the Healey remained in Mom’s 4-car garage. The Healey title sat in a drawer in my house, along with its original Bill of Sale. My dear friend and lifelong Healey owner, Neil Anderson, thought I would be inspired to start the restoration by giving me a copy of an Austin-Healey restoration guide. But alas, I wasn’t ready, and the book ended up wedged between an odd assortment of hardbacks and other paperbacks.
In May of 2009, as I was looking at my shelves for books to donate to the city library, I saw the restoration guide and thumbed through a few pages. I was suddenly overwhelmed by emotions. I re-lived the night of my father’s passing as if it was happening all over again – as I had many times before – and remembered my promise. I had the finances to complete the project. If I procrastinated any longer, would it ever happen? I contacted Neil to let him know I was ready to begin.
Here’s how ignorant I was with regards to restoring an old British roadster, or any car for that matter. My target was to complete the project by June of 2011 so that I could drive the Healey to Colorado for the Austin-Healey Club of America national meet. AND, I estimated the total cost to complete the project would be around $20,000. I don’t know how I came up with that number, but seriously, how much could it possibly cost? Well, I soon found out.
Neil told me to brace myself because the restoration could cost $30-50K to complete. My heart skipped a beat, and I’m pretty sure my eyes briefly popped out of my head like some cartoon character. Holy smokes! In truth, I did not say, “smokes.”
I wanted to be within a reasonable driving distance of the project so that I could visit on weekends to watch, take pictures, learn and assist, if possible. My first choice was Gary Olsen, who worked full-time at a university 35 miles away but restored vintage vehicles on the side in his shop. Neil brought Gary over to meet Mom and me, view the project Healey, and present examples of his prior restorations. Little did he realize that I had already chosen him within seconds of our meeting. I immediately knew he was “the guy”. Gary shared that he had restored seven Austin-Healey 100’s, including his own, and that he didn’t think he would ever have an opportunity to restore another due to their scarcity. I’m not sure who was more excited to start this project. Gary invited me to visit as often as I wanted and to help as much as I wanted. He even offered to give me a key to the shop so that I could visit if he wasn’t available.
Gary had one question for me: What is your goal for this project? I had two. I wanted the end result to be something my father would be proud of; however, I didn’t want the end result to be so nice that I would be afraid to drive her.
Gary estimated $65K to complete the project. By this time, I was kind of numb to the numbers being tossed about, but I was excited. I realized I could have purchased an already-restored Austin-Healey for less money, but that was not the point. Gary was spot-on with his estimate, as the total project cost roughly $66K.
The resurrection
On the evening of October 7, 2009, Neil and Gary arrived at Mom’s house to transport the Healey to (what Neil referred to as) the “magic workshop”. As she was loaded onto Neil’s rickety old trailer, I thought, “Oh dear … please let her arrive safely. She’s already been through so much.” And off they went into the darkness. Neil later emailed a picture of the Healey in her new temporary home with the line, “Just for verification purposes that we didn’t sell your car on eBay.”
From start to finish, the entire three-year restoration project was an emotional rollercoaster. Many tears were shed… sorrowful, joyful, and grateful. And I learned how to genuinely laugh again. Gary loved life, was very funny, and had an infectious laugh. I visited his shop on weekends, with Mom in tow, as often as I could. We shared family stories with Gary and vice- versa. We formed a strong bond.
The original engine, carburetors, lever shock absorbers, horns, and chrome parts were all sent to different specialists to be rebuilt or refurbished. At one point, there were parts in four different states. Gary refurbished the original Bakelite steering wheel; it was imperative to me that we kept the original. To me, the steering wheel was the most personal component of the Healey.
I could write for weeks about how different phases of the restoration affected me in seemingly odd ways. One such example is the day the original paint was soda blasted off the individual body panels. Watching the last bit of paint – which included part of the racing stripe – being soda-blasted off the boot, I broke down. My father added that stripe; it was such an identifiable element of his Healey. I felt like I was losing my father a second time, as if his connection to this car was being erased along with that paint. That was, perhaps, the toughest day emotionally of the entire restoration.
A funny side story involving that racing stripe. I wanted the same stripe painted on the restored Healey. Unbeknownst to me, Gary had different feelings about the stripe and didn’t think it should be on the car. But since the paying client wanted it, he obliged and meticulously hand-painted that stripe. He later shared his original thoughts and how his feelings changed once he completed it. He also confessed that painting that stripe was the most difficult and most loathed part of the entire project, as he was a perfectionist and wanted it to line up across the front shroud, bonnet, rear shroud, and boot. Neil – equally obsessive in a good way – was also involved in this undertaking. I’m just thankful I was not in the shop while they were working on this phase of the project.
As the project neared completion in 2012, my fears about driving this beautiful car on public roads started kicking in. I had the honor and privilege of meeting and chatting with former Austin-Healey racer, John Chatham at a gathering in Quebec. When my anxieties were mentioned, he said, “It’s just a car”. For the record, that statement did not calm my nerves one bit.
It.Is.Alive.
These days, I hold the same steering wheel my father did for close to 17 years. He may not physically be with me, yet he is definitely with me. I know he cringes when I miss a gear. He smiles when we tear down country backroads. He chuckles when I almost stall the engine, followed by near-whiplash … leaving lots of rubber and making Mom squeal with glee. He’s proud that I’m finally not afraid to drive her and that I learned a not-so-pleasant day at the office is erased when you commute home in a sports car, especially a vintage one. Restoring this beautiful car ultimately brought us both back to life.
Photo by Lee Sam
An American hotrodder finds a new home in Norway’s retro car culture.
Photos by Daniel Maas
At the age of 62, lifelong hotrodder and professional automotive restorer Daniel Maas was looking for the next chapter in his life. He’d spent decades at the top of the collector car field – restoring Ferraris with a Pebble Beach-winning shop, building and competing in IHRA drag racing, and heading the launch team of resto-mod Mustang manufacturer Revology Cars. But there were two life promises that he still needed to keep: to pursue photography, and to someday move with his wife to her home country of Norway.
A family health scare hastened the decision. Facing ageism in the form of increasing healthcare premiums and limited coverage through his employer, the $200-deductible, socialized medical system of Scandinavia became a compelling incentive for his retirement years.
Upon first arriving in his new home of Halden, Norway, he was taken aback by familiar scenes from his American upbringing. Old Buicks, Cadillacs, Chryslers…big ones. And not just a few.
“There are believed to be a quarter-million vintage American vehicles in Scandinavia,” said Dan. “It’s the largest group of American iron outside of the U.S.” It’s estimated that over 5,000 vintage cars are imported each year from America to Sweden alone.
Importing a classic American car into Norway is relatively easy, but getting the cars street licensed can be a challenge. A trip to the DMV can take hours as the car is put on a lift and completely inspected from bumper to bumper. There are some high-performance modifications allowed, but engines are dyno tested and limited to 400hp. Stock, pre-1960 cars escape biennial road inspections, favoring the prevailing 1950’s-centric ethos.
And then there is the fuel cost in Norway, which is among the highest in the world at $7.90 a gallon. “I ask every Norwegian classic car owner the same thing – what do you think of the cost of gas?” Dan said. “And they all reply, ‘Meh, you have to pay for something if you want to have fun.’ They have such high incomes in Norway that its all relative, I guess.”
“My first thought was ‘Wow, these people really look up to Americans!’ but that wasn’t it. Everyone had their own personal experience with an old American car. They had their own memories, and were creating their own new experiences, their own culture…and subcultures.”
Like the post World War II greaser or rockabilly movement in the U.S., Scandinavia went through its own automotive-based cultural revolution in the raggare movement, which began in the late 1950’s. Loosely translated from the Swedish word ragga (“to pick up girls”) it’s come to be synonymous with outlaw or hellraiser, and follows the same idolization of mid-20th century American cars, rockabilly music, and blue-collar fashion as their transAtlantic counterparts.
1950’s raggare was very much anti-establishment, characterized by drinking, brawling and driving too fast, all of which shocked proper Scandinavian society. Nowadays, most raggare culture is mainstream, and populated by ironic youth who might go by “Harry” or “Doris,” derogatory Norwegian slang for someone who projects a tacky or vulgar style and wears low-brow fashion, in this case deliberately.
The hard-partying persists, but it’s now done in a responsible and novel way. Norwegian drunk driving laws are among the strictest in Europe, with almost zero tolerance and heavy criminal penalties, yet open intoxicants for passengers are allowed, if not exploited. With a car culture centered around cruising, large four-door sedans have become the most desired conveyance. The more cavernous the backseat, the more friends can join in the party, and some cars have even been customized with cup holders and beer tapper systems. Tradition dictates that the designated driver dines at the expense of his passengers.
Norway’s pragmatic society self-polices the drunk driving laws. “In America you have police everywhere. In Norway, they have no police at all, and they have no deaths. They just follow the law,” said Dan.
The raggare, still looking tough but as tame as the average suburban American Harley-Davidson biker, are now a curiosity, and even celebrated.
“There’s really a culture of tolerance, because the Norwegians feel if you let young people express themselves and be freer, they’ll become better citizens,” Dan said. “The older people – no one really complains or calls the cops if you’re having a little bit of fun. If you allow them to let their hair down, then everybody has a good time.”
Long distances cruises can cover hundreds of miles, like the 5-day Grensetreff (“Border Crossing”) where Swedes travel to visit car clubs in Dan’s adopted city of Halden. One of those days, dubbed “Queen of Hearts,” is dedicated to women enthusiasts. Men can only attend the event by serving in the formal role of chauffeurs: driving, opening doors, and looking after the car. The substantial number of women enthusiasts are a proportionate result of the popularity of classic cars among the Norwegian people.
“Halden is a city of 30,000 people. 1,000 of those are members of the national car club AMCAR, with at least 750 registered vintage vehicles,” said Dan, who found work as an automotive photojournalist for AMCAR Magazine.
AMCAR, also known as the American Car Club of Norway, is the Norwegian equivalent of the American Automobile Association, and is a political lobby for the collector car hobby, and much more. They operate high-end clubhouses throughout the country, some of which have repair lifts for rent to members at nominal costs. They have vehicle registration archives dating back to 1975, a library of technical manuals and literature for old American cars, and staff available for titling, road inspection, importation and documentation processing. They offer financing, car insurance and roadside assistance, as well as two member publications. The magazine Dan contributes to, AMCAR, is a 100-page periodical published 10 times a year.
For his work –or perhaps because of it – Dan has found himself hanging out with a much younger group of car-crazed enthusiasts, even though some may look as if they’d sprung from a 1950’s high school yearbook. “It’s fun to be around this energy. The cars are the same as the stuff I grew up with and enjoyed. It’s just appealing to a much younger audience here,” he said.
“It almost feels as if I get to relive those early years all over again. It’s as if I went to the other side of the world, and found out that time had stopped. Right when I always wanted it to.”
AAT PARTNER EVENTS
The Avants team took over LeMay – America’s Car Museum’s Haub Family Field to host the seventh edition of the nation’s largest allwagon car show on Sept. 14th, 2024. Grocery-getters old and new had their day in the sun, and these are some of the great cars that caught our attention. All photos courtesy AVANTS and Mˉaris Saulˉıts.
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