How do you feel about that I wrote? How do you describe what a "real" 356 is?
http://quantumrun356.com/2018/...a-real-356-would-be/
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Your 2nd paragraph spoke to me. We, as replica owners, recreate that feel and re-live that time when it was called motoring, which was an adventure itself. In a lot of ways it was a simpler time, and if jumping in your car brings you back to that, even for just a moment, that's what's important.
You obviously have more emotionally invested in this than me but you bring up some great points- for example, is a Porsche any less of a Porsche if it's been rebuilt or has other than factory parts? Is it still a Porsche when almost every piece of sheet metal but the vin # has been replaced? And, of course, there are more. Not being a Porsche owner these questions have no bearing in my life and I'll let more qualified souls hash out these (and other) soul searching dilemmas.
What's important to me is that there is still the opportunity to experience that long forgotten thing called motoring, where the wind is in (what's left of) my hair and I can feel connected with The Road (caps are intentional, and if you've seen the movie Cars you'll get it). I really need to get my bucket of parts up and running before the opportunity is taken away, as I really think my oldest will understand.
Alb, BINGO!
In about 1988 or so, I was living in the UK, and bought a speedster replica. The story behind it was interesting. The builder had bought a 356A coupe, and had deemed it too far gone to restore (this was 1988...). So, he took it apart and used as much as possible in a VW pan-based replica. This included the seats, gauges, steering wheel, some interior trim, gas tank, wheels, the Reutter badges inside the door, and most significantly, the part of the trunk floor that held the VIN.. Absolutely everything else - engine, transmission, pan, and of course the body, was VW or replica.
When I bought it, it was registered as a 1967 VW.
He included with the sale all the registration documents of the unrestorable 356. I asked the DVLA (UK version of DMV) if I could register the speedster using that paperwork - and of course corroborating it with the VIN piece, and they, in those days, were happy to do so. Thus, I had a fully legal 1956 356 Convertible that was accepted into the Porsche Club GB, and wore its 'Porsche' tax disc etc.
Just 2 square inches of steel turned that car from a Volkswagen to a Porsche. Of course a Porsche had to 'die' to give up its VIN for this replica to live, but it strikes me that there's much more to a vehicle than its VIN. Do I consider that replica to be a Porsche? Hell no!! But just like the Ship of Theseus, legally and officially it was....
In my case I owned a 356A coupe when I was 20 and it kind of never left me so when I had. A chance to buy an old one which I nearly did y(2000) before the appreciation of the $. but after trying out an IM and seeing their construction it was hard to have a 60hp compared to a 145hp except of course the adulation of a historical piece left in the garage as queen which was not my idea of fun, Since I wanted to drive the car.
So in a sense I’m also living in the past or the illusion of the past.
Reminds me of the story this guy gets married four times had kids with the first wife one day he’s reminiscing after one too many beers and he says I should’ve stayed with my first wife it’s that kind of delusional for some.
Tony, I spot fakes every day that sell in the 1/2 to 1 million range. But of course they have a vin tag. Not that it matches the car at all, but that seems to be enough for most people these days. Many recent (late 10 years) COA are frauds. Notice Porsche no longer issues these. I know why!
That is why I am issuing a Certificate of InAuthenticity (CIA) with my SPYder build. I want to lean way into the fakeness.
Use words like: "I certify that I built the spyder, speedster" I did that as an affidavit for those who were in power and wanted one. I really did.
An opinion of mine that had proved HUGELY unpopular and unleashed the Porsche mob on me is my belief that a restored 356 is only as good as the abilities of the person (s) doing the work. It could be better than Reutter or not as good as Reutter but depending on how much has been changed, it is no longer a car built by Porsche. The same would be true in art. If the paint falls off the Mona Lisa and it is repainted by another artist using photos as reference, is it by Da Vinci? Of course not. Thoughts on this, please. In many ways, our makes are more authentic that the pretend vin numbered Porsches.
Part of me is glad that people are going to such lengths to save these cars. They are (I think) an important part of automotive history and as many as possible should be preserved as such so people can (at least) see them up close and not just read about it all from some book or the internet. Whether a rebuilt and re-skinned car is still a real or any less Porsche than the 1 next to it isn't a discussion that I feel is relevant. Almost any car with mileage on it has had parts replaced and (usually) some sort of bodywork/restoration done, so you can look at it that way and debate 'till the cows come home whether it's still real or you could look at it from the perspective of it's still around and we can see what they looked like and the technology that made them so special.
My car, your car, and everybody else's cars here aren't Porsches, never will be Porsches, but they are what they are , and what they are is a whole lotta fun and a blast to drive, so the whole P crowd that's sacreligously busy admiring their cars from afar on a show field, laughing because the car beside them's licence plate bolts aren't correct and dissing the very idea of entertaining replica ownership (or, for that matter, their right to exist) are totally missing out on what our cars, or even theirs are about. They were meant to be driven, not stared at. THAT'S WHAT PUT 356's ON THE PEDESTAL THEY'RE ON TODAY! And that's what I find is sooo blasphemous about the whole collector car craze...
Interesting point Eric.
always been my issue at Concours events. The cars are restored to a much better quality than the factory. And as you pointed out, not much is left of that car from the factory.
....which is why I love the “preservation class”. I enjoy worn paint, chips, etc. shows the car was driven and used.
If the paint falls off the Mona Lisa and it is repainted by another artist using photos as reference, is it by Da Vinci?
I had thought the same until I saw what Janis Joplin's 356 Convert D sold for ($1.8 Million!) - it had all been repainted (and not by the original artist). There I guess it is more the providence of it being owned/driven by Janis than it being an old Porsche or sporting unique artwork.
The restoration of rusty Porsches has definitely spawned a lucrative craft of rebuilding them. Owners paying unGodly sums to restore and then not drive a "recreation".
In 1978 I bought a running (but no brakes) '62 356 Karmann Knotchback for $300. I fixed the driver's floor with the STOP sign at the end of the street. Those days are over! Marching build date steel wheels would probably go for $1000 - now! Kick myself for not storing it away in a dry barn.
I consider this car a Rorschach Test for such claims.
550-0082, "completed in March 1956, it was delivered new in Belgium’s racing colour of bright yellow to Ecurie Nationale Belge, ...Without a doubt, the car’s most significant event was the 1957 24 Hours of Le Mans, Unfortunately, Dubois and Hacquin were disqualified after pitting to add oil on the 70th lap ...Its final race with Ecurie Nationale Belge was the 1957 Swedish Grand Prix where the car finished 8th in class with Tassin and Ms Hacquin.
"From 1958 through the early 1960s, 550-0082 was sold to Jacques Thenaers, who ran it in hill climbs, minor races and rallies. According to a series of letters in the car’s history file, it was rebodied as a coupe by APAL and fitted with a 2.0-litre Carrera engine after being purchased by Edmond Pery from Ecurie Francorchamps around 1965 and subsequently sold to Belgian racing driver Pierre Bonvoisin. In APAL guise it continued to race in Belgium through 1967. Sold to a Mr Michaelis of Embourg, Belgium, in September of 1970, at this time the car had a S-90 engine. Sometime thereafter in his ownership, the car was taken off the road and it remained in storage for roughly two decades. After passing through Philippe Jegher’s of Esneux, Belgium, chassis no. 550-0082 was purchased by Corrado Cupellini of Bergamo, Italy, in March of 1989 missing both its engine and APAL bodywork, before passing to Bruno Ferracin in May of 1995.
"The car was later purchased by Peter Ludwig of Germany in January 2000, and a comprehensive restoration, which included producing new bodywork and sourcing a correct series engine and transaxle, was undertaken by Porsche Zentrum Würzburg in 2000 at a cost of nearly €100.000. Afterwards which the car participated in the 2001 Mille Miglia Storica."
The car is considered by bidders and experts to be as real as any other real one even though it was a "donor car" for a fiberglass kit and retains almost nothing of its original equipment. Engine is long gone. The body it has now was made by the Porsche elves but even I, a rank amateur in 550 detail knowledge, can see several nonstandard things in the above photo, including:
*Voltage regulator mounted in the wrong spot
*Wires misrouted
*Fuel lines incorrectly routed
*Clam catches are incorrect & like nothing the 1950s factory supplied.
I could go on.
To me, the beauty of this hobby is precisely that it creates the option—if not the imperative—to laugh loudly at the purists' most sacred gospels. Of course 550-0082 is more of a real Porsche than, to cite a random example, BH550-00B1. But is it as "real" as 550-0060, which was never raced but also never re-bodied?
I love that I don't have to care!
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Earlier I mentioned I have longed to go on some cross country journey if for no other reason than to go. I've never done that before but one thing I have done dozens upon dozens of times is take short journeys. Either by myself or with others. We meet for breakfast and just drive all of the back roads our county has to offer. No destination in mind, just being one with our cars and the road. We stop on occasion to admire the view and ponder what the meaning of life is. Well, maybe we don't get that philosophical. But we do stop to admire the view. The experience brings you closer to the world around you and the 356 is an integral part of that. The experience would never be the same in a Prius or any other modern car; not even some other modern convertible. The feel of the road, the sound of the air-cooled engine, the smell of the gas; all of that seems necessary and important to the experience.
My 356 is the best car I've ever had.
Robert, I so hear you, brother. THAT is IT. Where are you? Maybe we can take a run together?
Eric Marshall Green posted:Robert, I so hear you, brother. THAT is IT. Where are you? Maybe we can take a run together?
If you ever make it to California with your car, specifically Fresno, CA we can make one of those runs along the Sierra Nevadas, which is one of my favorite places. But seriously, if you're just in California with your car I'd go make a run.
Sounds wonderful. I love 395, Lone Pine to Alturas!
As I have said (over and over and over)-- I've been to the Pacific coast in my car twice, and to the Smokys in the east. The trips were among the best experiences I've ever had in my life. The reason I sound so much like a broken record is to encourage The Great American Road Trip, before forces beyond our control (old age, etc.) make it impossible.
Driving a reliable, enclosed, temperature controlled modern vehicle across this country is a good way to get the scale of the place. It's less sensible and efficient than just flying, but holds an appeal that can't be quantified.
Making the same trip in an open car of questionable reliability, exposed to the weather, being propelled by will, wits, and wistfulness is a transcendent experience. To cross the Continental Divide at speed, or to drop into the great trees of northern California after 14 hrs in the desert, or to see the Rockies rising in the distance after rocketing through Kansas dodging thunderheads caused me to ponder selling everything I've ever owned (except this car), and continue "finding America" until the money ran out. Sleeping in cheap motels in small desert towns, filling up in gas stations with 120 miles of nothing between them, leaving Las Vegas on a 110* morning and rolling into Fort Morgan, Colorado with snow blowing over the windshield, starting out at sunrise-- not because there was someplace I had to be, but because there was someplace I had to be.
In the car. In the wind. Sunglasses on, hat in place, motor purring, tires humming, pointed towards... somewhere.
Yeah.
In this day of the 24 hr news cycle, with everybody tweeting about everything, and talking heads telling us what is desperately wrong with the opposition-- a long, solitary road trip in an open car reveals everything that is right with the world, and makes me feel fortunate and blessed to have been given the opportunity to take a few laps around the sun on this beautiful blue ball.
Drive 'em.
**** yeah, brother!
You guys are talking somewhat like what we did in our Mega trip in 2011. I asked my Wife if she'd do that one again and she said she'd do it In a heartbeat. I'd like to stay out of LA and Vegas this time and include more stuff like Bryce Canyon. The correct time of year would have to be carefully studied.
David,
It's my considered opinion that September is all that. It's a perfect time of year everywhere in the northern hemisphere.
WE should all do a madman trip across America. I'm in!
Stan Galat posted:David,
It's my considered opinion that September is all that. It's a perfect time of year everywhere in the northern hemisphere.
Ahem, like north Georgia.
SPRING! May.
How about an all Speedster/Spyder/Clown Car Cannonball Baker Sea To Shining Sea Memorial Trophy Dash?
Seriously, I'm in!
This is why we don't need radios in our cars. Take a blue highway anywhere on or between the coasts. Add, as Stan says, the sound of treads and tappets, the thrum of expansion joints and the whole feast for the senses. Then take a cue from Eric's original question. The seat of an engaging car on a long road trip is one of the best places in the world to engage in thought experiments.
To wit: The Ship of Theseus which I know we've mentioned before, but it just never gets old for me.
As for a cross country road trip? Oh I'm in. I've done it several times in several deferent conveyances including one with two pedals, 10 forward gears and no reverse. Make sure to include a bedroll so we can sleep free on some of that BLM land!
Why don't you "Ballers" (Cannon, that is) make your Run in June...ending with El Oceano Pacifico at San Luis Obispo. 
The SOC West Coast Cruise will be there June 5th, 6th, and 7th. 
Indeed, if you were to "limp" into these annual frivolities, be assured you'll find plenty of "drinks for your men and beer for your horses." 
And, I, personally, will provide rolls of duct tape for your Speedies' trip home. 
If all goes to plan I'll be driving to SLO from Portland. Haven't made a final route plan, and it'll only be a third of a continent's worth of mileage if I take the scenic route (is there any other route?) but still plenty for a shake down cruise. A full Cannonball run would require plenty of advance notice for me. Looking forward to meeting you, Paul!
Regarding "originality":
I understand (by reasoning) the desire to own something "original"-- the car Stirling Moss drove, the hat Lincoln wore, the bed Washington slept in, etc. But on an emotional level, "originality" does almost nothing for me for a couple of reasons.
I'm a hick-town tradesman, descended from a long line of builders-- men and women who pieced together quality materials, and created something greater than the sum of their parts. There was a time when almost everybody understood the concept of value added-- real estate was improved with the construction of a building and cars were made better by modification. There is a vast difference (in my mind) between a cobbled up repair using the materials at hand, a "correct" repair using OEM parts, and a modification which corrects some flaw and makes a machine run better than it did "as new". This is the very definition of a hot-rodder, as opposed to a mechanic.
While an old school car is cool, seeing what old-school men with a similar mindset did to improve it is of much greater interest. This is why I'll always be an air-cooled guy. The engine is improvable. Legend of the Sainted German Engineer aside, there are so very many flaws in the Type 1 design that improvement runs the gamut from low-hanging-fruit right through very involved re-engineering of entire systems. Taking an 80 hp engine as far as it can go is a pretty interesting proposition to me.
This kind of hot-rodding can't be done in any substantive way to a modern car, which is why I'm grateful for them as a hyper-reliable and comfortable transportation appliance, and completely unattached to them emotionally. My daily driver doesn't need me in any way. An original 356 or 550 (while important and beautiful) are vehicles begging to be improved and even to be reimagined.
I'm cocky enough to think I can do it better in 2020 than a struggling German shop could do in the 1950s. If I understand the essence of an early Porsche, I derive a great deal of pleasure in doing the same thing Ferry and the boyz did in my own way-- keeping the template, but rounding the car out as I see fit.
The other thing that turns me towards a replica is the investment value of originality. I (personally) think less of someone born rich or strong or beautiful than I do of somebody who worked hard to remake themselves into something that far exceeds the raw material they were given. It's not that rich, strong, or beautiful people (by birth) aren't rich, strong or beautiful (or that I can't appreciate that)-- it's just that they didn't do anything to get that way. I say this as a guy who had a lot of advantages in raw material at birth and frittered most of them away-- I haven't even lived up to my personal potential, let alone exceeded anybody's expectations. I really respect those who have.
So, to that end, I honestly like a Singer 911 a lot more than a perfect, low mile, numbers matching 911R. I like an Emory Outlaw more than a 100 point 356 restoration. But I don't like either of them any more than a really nicely done and well executed fiberglass replica. I couldn't care less about whether or not the VIN came from Germany or not.
The thing that turns me off "original" stuff most of all is the fact that for most buyers, this is a vanity purchase-- a measure of wealth and taste, as opposed to a measure of capability and intelligence. The automobile as a totem for wealth is a bit like the smarmy guy who marries the supermodel-- not because he's excited by the prospect, or even because he particularly enjoys her company, but strictly because it makes him look and seem more wealthy or powerful in "having" her. These are the same guys who can't and don't drive their 6 and 7 figure classics, and don't really know much about them at all... except that they are worth $1.2M or whatever. I don't want to be that guy. I don't even want to be a knock-off version of that guy. It makes me embarrassed when people think I want to be a knock-off version of that guy. This "look at me" thing is one of the reasons I hate entering car shows. If I do enter, I park the car and walk off to look at other stuff.
One of the things I always enjoyed about owning my plastic fantastic is that out here in F150 country, nobody but a car-guy even knew what a 356 was. With the rise of Speed Chanel, etc. on cable, everybody is becoming familiar with them (as totems for wealth), and now I wish that the original market might collapse. Then my car could be judged for what it is, as opposed to seeming like a dime-store copy of something super-valuable, like a photocopy of the Mona Lisa run on a bubble-jet printer using generic ink.
So-- the owner of 550-082 can think of himself as a protector of the priceless, but his car does less for me than Bob Carely's speedster with the 964 engine and transaxle, or Marty's turbo Subaru car, or Danny's no-nonsense 550, or Anand and Ed's lost-in-the-details recreations. I can say (in all humility) that none of them are as cool as my car is to me-- not because my car is functionally better (it's not) , but because what I have is an extension of my vision of what I wanted my car to be. It's mine.
That's worth more than a hundred German VINs to me.
Non 356 related, the guy restoring my 71 Giula GT keeps calling my project a restomod, but it took me more than one time to really understand what he was saying. He said, basically, we can do anything, we can find or make everything that matches how the original car came out of the factory, but think about it, is that what you really want?
What opened up my eyes, was when he asked me about the brackets that hold the electrical wires inside the engine bay. He said, do you want me to preserve these thin ugly wire brackets that scrap your hands every time you put your hands inside the engine bay? I said, what do you mean? He replied, we can use modern fasteners and or completely hide the wires. Oh, light bulb went on, I'm not going for a concourse judged car, so that makes a ton of sense. So, in the end restomod in my head meant "hot rod "but in reality it's just restoring with well thought-out modifications
Bingo. That's it, Marty.
So I'll leave this little thought I had right here. Carlisle is usually in mid-May and SLO is generally about 2-3 weeks later. Tour d'Amurica opportunity?
@JMM (Michael), for those with the free time and means, it certainly would be a Grand Tour. Wish I could do it.
Stan, that essay was really well-written and I could not agree more, since, you know my feelings because you likely read what I wrote above even if you didn't mention it. BUT, how in the hell do you write so well? And where can I see LOTS of images of your build?
As an aside, does anyone like or dislike my 550 gas filler offset in my bonnet?
The real question is, do you like your through-hood filler?
I like it yes, but honestly I don't give a whit what anyone thinks of any part of my Spyder. As Stan stated so eloquently, my car is MINE and I made it the way I want it. And I continue to hot-rod and modify to my heart's content, because I enjoy that as much as driving it and looking at it. Cars and coffee is cool. Non-judged shows are cool. Judged shows ehhhh, those people don't get it. Concours? Snoozeville.
I've run into other like-minded people here, Carlisle, those Cars and Coffees I like. I respect them, they respect me. That's cool. I guess I'm a hot-rodder.
You are a hot-rodder, Danny.
The way I think of it is like this-- if I buy or build something because I'm trying to get what other people value, I'm spending my time and effort for somebody else's idea of what is worthwhile. If I do something because I want to-- that thing will always have value to me, regardless of what anybody else thinks of it. It feels nice if other people like it, but even if they don't-- the thing that's cool to me will remain cool, regardless of the whims of fashion.
I probably ought to have more pictures of my car, but I don't. I don't take many, I don't curate them, I misplace them-- and mostly, I just don't care enough what other people think to post a bunch of them online.
That said, I have an 8 ft x 4 ft poster of my car, at speed, on the Tail of the Dragon hanging in my garage.
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The way that car sits---just wow.
Eric Marshall Green posted:As an aside, does anyone like or dislike my 550 gas filler offset in my bonnet?
Always worried I would gaz the hood but yours is probably safer
Eric Marshall Green posted:Stan, that essay was really well-written and I could not agree more, since, you know my feelings because you likely read what I wrote above even if you didn't mention it. BUT, how in the hell do you write so well? And where can I see LOTS of images of your build?
Pretty good eh... for an under achiever Stan !! I would argue that your dream is not finished yet not by a long shot!
Stan, your car is WAY more classic than I expected. Do your front tires rub in a U-turn? What H.P.? Weight? Interior photo, please.
As a professional artist who was rejected by the art world for 45 years yet continued to make exactly what he believed in, of course I made the 356 I wanted. Even Henry argued with me about a number of things, but I knew EXACTLY every bit of that car. That said I'm always curious about what others think, positive or negative.
The gas filler works AMAZINGLY well. Notice my wipers are NOT in front of the driver? Even my first 356 had that. I switched
them pretty quickly.
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Stan, so . . . where did you learn to write so well? It doesn't fit your lowly pipefitter persona.
Being a pipefitter is just a cover. He's actually a superhero.
Eric Marshall Green posted:How do you feel about that I wrote? How do you describe what a "real" 356 is?
http://quantumrun356.com/2018/...a-real-356-would-be/
Oops; "Not Found"; the link is not working...
I would rather go to an ugly dentist to be deep drilled without painkillers than show any of my cars at a car show. Yikes. I have enough trouble avoiding people who want to talk in parking lots. An excerpt from my new novel:
Chapter Forty-seven
It was on the third morning that the film crew began to fight among themselves. Things had first become slightly tense when Hedge refused to sign any of Linda Hiller’s contracts at the initial breakfast in Lone Pine. As Loren watched, she became, after some minutes, simply disbelieving that her saccharine yet pushy techniques were not making a dent on this nobody guy. “Then we cannot proceed with the film! Is that what you want?” she said with some finality only to be met with Hedge’s grin.
“Sounds good to me, sister.”
“Are you kidding me? You have a chance to be in a major movie, and this is your attitude?”
He turned away from her. “Loren, ready to hit the road east there, buddy?”
Hiller was forced to relent, thus showing her hand of cards, which held no aces.
But their arguing began to get on Loren’s nerves because he saw no point in it. Mainly the bitching was between Ian and the Hiller and mostly about semantics. “When you said, I should be more affirming, I think that was way beyond the point. Affirming? Is that really my job? I think not there, Mr. director! I’m not going to be a nursemaid unless I get paid double.” And Ian seemed to lap it up like a puppy dog. Both seemed to love arguing and vaping.
Loren noticed that as the trip went on, Duffy the cameraman became all but mute. The only sounds from his mouth seemed to stem from the fact that camera gear was not working smoothly, particularly some sort of slide thing, which seemed to freeze every time he needed it the most. But movie people seem to live differently. Everything was about the shot, and **** any lifeforms if they get in the way. And so they proceeded north to Alturas, California.
Hedge on the other hand steered the 356 as if through a perfect world, and perhaps it was. In Alturas he sniffed out a Mexican restaurant. “You like Tex-me there, Loren?”
“Not sure if I’ve had it.”
“Trust me on this one, brother.”
The diner was called Tacos and a revelation to Loren. He discovered he loved real Mexican food, and the Mexican couple who ran the diner with their chubby yet sexy daughter took a real liking to them both. By the time the film crew found them, the Filmies, in their hyper-vapey way, had already gorged in a fast-food joint south of town out of hunger desperation—or so figured Loren—and all three seemed a bit sick and grumpy, vapes going at extra volume. The road was taking its first preemptive strike.
“So,” said Hedge, “Get your cameras rolling, I have a funny story.”
This seemed to focus the Filmies. All three grabbed cameras, Duffy sprinting back to the van for his large one.
“I’m under the 356 the other morning, before you guys arrived, and I’m adjusting the valves when I feel something kick my foot firmly. This action tends to make an aware person slide out from under a car, hoping for a friendly cute face with a cold beer or at least a breakfast sandwich and a coffee. I did just that, slide out, only to encounter a large fat man with a frown, and an equally large fat offspring standing beside him, also with frown—neither had a cold beer. ‘Vat is you doing?’ The elder said. Now normally I would’ve answered directly and politely, but the foot kick mixed with my nearly non-negotiable hangover was not a welcome combination. I stood and stared. ‘Are you completely crazy?’ The elder said. “Vat is you doing, driving this automobile?’” Hedge pronounced it auto-MO-beeel. “‘This automobile should be in a museum or in a climatically-controlled garage. This is beyond impossible. Do you not realize vat this automobile is?’ At that point, I almost gave the douche-nozzle a Nazi salute, but I calmed myself and explained that Ferry Porsche and my father had created the first 356 GT car in 1951 together, my father taking delivery of the car in the Spring of 1952 for the Montreal car show. I told the two doughboys that since the 1955 Continental convertible was a gift from my father, and since his last words on his deathbed to me had been, ‘Drive it across the country, my son,’ I felt I had every right to adjust valves on the thing. Did they agree or not?
Loren was trying not to laugh and thus poison the filming.
Hedge stayed quiet.
“So, what happened?” Said Ian in a whisper.
“They apologized. I said all would be good between us if they would get me a couple icy cold beers. Then I went back to work on the valves.”
The road past Alturas along Goose lake was something Loren could not believe existed. And once they turned right at Lakeview on Route 140, a magic set in beyond all expectations. It was an empty road, which seemed as if it had never had a crack or an imperfection. The smoothness was bewildering until Loren realized no one ever drove on this road although it quietly ambled through three states ending up in Denio Junction, which would soon enough reveal itself as the definition of nowhere in America. Hedge said:
“This is my favorite road in the world. It is in an Antelope National Park among other delights. Has a hot spring mineral stream running through it that has never been discovered but by a chosen few.”
“How do you know all these roads?”
“As a teenager and into my twenties, I did a lot of open road.”
“What is open road?”
“When you are on the road only to experience your future, you realize there is nowhere specific to go.”
“Now who sounds all Zenish?”
Hedge grinned. “In the mid-seventies I crossed the country over a dozen times—hitchhiking, different cars, and riding freights.”
“You rode freight trains?”
“About the best thing I ever did. I never imagined the country could be so huge and so barren—nothing like seeing the wheat fields of Minnesota for a first time, the burnt fields' black stripes against the blazing yellow of the ripe grain, the beginning of the Western promise. And that damn wind. Once I was stranded for hours in what seemed like the middle of nothing but nature and God. The wind banging the boxcar door, the car swaying in the gusts. And the resonant eerie silence between the wind’s bluster. I guess the freight was waiting on a siding for a passenger train or a hot-shot.”
“Aren’t you from California?”
“Me? Hell no. I was born in northern New Hampshire in a shite mill town.”
“When did you leave?”
“Sixteen.”
“Young.”
“I’d had enough. But Loren, I want to tell you about this moment when I was seventeen, first time West. The immense blue sky stretching like a clear sound over the earth, a few thin clouds like passing whispers. I'd never felt so alone. Not lonely, just small and alone—wondering if my mom in the White Mountains was worrying about me—but she was probably in a bar using me as another excuse to drink.”
“Your father?”
“That did not work out so well. Anyway, I was so excited by my own courage, by the image of myself standing in that boxcar in the middle of nothing. I guess I was afraid too, but the feeling that I was finally really doing something, taking control of my life, eclipsed everything else.”
“Funny you were out there like that, and I was hiding in a basement in sorrow and defeat.”
Hedge was long quiet. “Loren, I want to say something brilliant and comforting to that, but, damn me, I can’t. But we are here. Now! Maybe that is all there is to say.” And the bottle of Bushmills attached itself to the lips.
They drove through seemingly endless graceful valleys in late afternoon sunlight. Then hills would appear, rocky slopes, twisting turns and switchbacks with deadly drop-offs on one side. Loren realized that driving through beautiful raw landscapes was not just about seeing them with his eyes; he could almost feel them go into his heart, become a part of him. It was a glorious sensation.
And then, just as headlights were needed in the purple dusk, one set approached at blinding speed. Hedge, glancing repeatedly in the rearview, said: “I know those Filmies don’t have this in them.” On a long straight, a silver late 1990s Boxster blew past at likely 130 miles per hour, the driver grinning madly and waving, the top down.
“How ****ing cool is that?” said Hedge.
And then Denio Junction appeared as Route 140 turned sharply right farther into Nevada, clipped off by Oregon Route 205, and as luck would have it, there was a motel, and the silver Boxster was already parked in front of one of the units.
"Car tires rubbing the body in extreme turn." Yeah, I experienced that as well in my ACooled IM with beam front end. You learn to, not to turn that sharp ... Lol.
I do not have the rubbing issue with my IM with 911 front end. Just saying.
There is no rubbing in a beam car if the steering stops are adjusted properly.
Stan has a beam, but I think also a rack. Leading and following him around the North Carolina mountains, I never heard noise or smelled any tire rub from his car.
I'm "supposed" to have 911 steering. One thing I think Henry got correct is the angle of my steering wheel. I wanted it the same as a Reutter. I believe many remakes have the wheel different. True or not?
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DannyP posted:There is no rubbing in a beam car if the steering stops are adjusted properly.
Stan has a beam, but I think also a rack. Leading and following him around the North Carolina mountains, I never heard noise or smelled any tire rub from his car.
Danny is correct. Beam, rack and pinion, no rubbing.
Eric Marshall Green posted:Stan, so . . . where did you learn to write so well? It doesn't fit your lowly pipefitter persona.
Stan is quite learned, and has a number of graduate degrees.
He started with a B.S. degree (we all know what that stands for);
then went on to do an M.S. degree (More of the Same, you know);
then finally did a Ph.D. (Piled Higher and Deeper).
Lastly, he did post-graduate work at the SOHN (school of hard knocks).
So, please don't let his 'lowly pipefitter persona' fool you.
Those who have been around here for awhile, know that Stan is the SOC Poet Laureate.
He speaks well, and rarely out of turn.
Yeah. I'm not sure I can breathe that same rarified air. I'm a high school dropout.
Don't let Dr. Carely snow you. I went to Tremont High School (home of the Turks) and graduated in 1981. That's it.
I attended exactly one day of community college in 1983, before deciding I knew more than anybody there (a recurring theme in my youth) and getting my $112 back. I eventually rose to my exulted station in life fixing refrigeration units, but not before foundering in several other dead-end vocations. Supermarket cases gave me a nicer living than I was owed, and also a bad back, hearing loss, crushed hands, and the physique of a large ape. I'm enormously grateful.
My higher education occurred on flat roofs in the deep winter, kneeling before old and broken equipment, and praying that I could have clarity of thought when every pore of me was screaming to get someplace warm.
As far as learning to write-- back at THS, I didn't get thrown out of Mrs. Evans' junior English composition class when I really should have. Mrs. Evans taught me the basics of classic writing (no first person narratives, no repetition of words in the same paragraph, don't use 10 words when 2 will do, etc.), and I found that I didn't really need to work at it very hard to get decent grades. This was my primary consideration in high school (not working very hard), so I kept at it and was the editor of the school paper my senior year.
Before you think this was something important, remember my high school goal (to work as little as possible). The editor didn't have to work at all, and I got to write an editorial piece (generally critical of staff or administration) every edition. This was perfect in my 17 year old economy, since it gave me the chance to be a smart-mouthed punk and ferment rebellion in the student body... and never get called in to see the man. This was the early '80s, and we were all encouraged to be "finding our own paths", or some such malarkey. I was not beloved by the administration upon my graduation. I went back a few years later to apologize. I've needed to do that a lot in life, generally due to some misguided but deep seated impression that everybody was entitled to my opinion.
Everything since has just been the ramblings of a busted up tradesman. There are people 15x as interesting here, and guys who have forgotten more than I'll ever know. I feel blessed to have been along for the ride all these years.
That's really more navel-gazing than I'm comfortable with, and I'd prefer we got back to gear ratios and suspension settings. Carry on, men.
"My higher education occurred on flat roofs in the deep winter, kneeling before old and broken equipment, and praying that I could have clarity of thought when every pore of me was screaming to get someplace warm."
Stan, you have a true gift as a writer. Pretty darn amazing. Do you just hammer this stuff out quickly?
Anyway, this was a GREAT route across the West. I ****ed up heading into Canada because I had no idea Toronto had turned into HELL. Next time Route 17! Which will get rid of lower Michigan as well.
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@Eric Marshall Green I like that your route hugs the eastern edge of Michigan. Being in Ann Arbor, Michigan, I could follow it either east or west.
Epic.
Re the steering wheel: very, very cool. But, Eric, you mention the angle. Are you saying that you specified that the angle of the steering column in your car had to be "correct" to Reutter specs? And that Henry actually did it?
Because this is no small thing.
The only car I know of on this board that has that sort of detail correct is @arajani's new Spyder, currently under final assembly by Carey Hines and crew at Beck/Special Edition.
And his car's steering wheel angle is correct because his car's entire frame is a very close copy of a real-deal 550 Spyder, including the front beam, which is of a link pin type instead of ball joint.
The whole beam on his car is a couple inches shorter (i.e. lower to the ground, not narrower side to side) than a normal fake Spyder, which puts the steering box down two inches, which changes the angle.
What's the setup on your car?
Eric Marshall Green posted:"My higher education occurred on flat roofs in the deep winter, kneeling before old and broken equipment, and praying that I could have clarity of thought when every pore of me was screaming to get someplace warm."
Stan, you have a true gift as a writer. Pretty darn amazing. Do you just hammer this stuff out quickly?
Anyway, this was a GREAT route across the West. I ****ed up heading into Canada because I had no idea Toronto had turned into HELL. Next time Route 17! Which will get rid of lower Michigan as well.
Why is Toronto Hell ? Are you calling Hwy 17 in Canada "route 17" ? If so, you've got lot's to learn. Where did you go Eastof the " big smoke " ?
David, lots to learn? About Highway 17? I first hitchhiked it in 1973 at 16 years old. I walked the entire length of Sudbury, which took 19 hours. I finally flagged down a bus, which actually stopped because I was standing in the middle of the road. I was really hungry. Next it in a 1970 911 Targa when I was 18 years old. The Porsche was a huge improvement. Etc. So, what do I need to learn? I've driven it a dozen times. Has it changed a lot in the last 15 years?
I drove back to Maine. I stopped in Kingston at the sports car club my dad founded in 1951, which became to ruling body of all motorsport in Canada.
EDs, YES Henry actually did it with a 911 steering set up. I have photos if you're REALLY interested. I must have 10k photos. Finding things is a nightmare,
Here is the original blank designed by Jack Luck for my dad that was the first logo of all Canadian motorsport. I SO love this design.
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Eric Marshall Green posted:David, lots to learn? About Highway 17? I first hitchhiked it in 1973 at 16 years old. I walked the entire length of Sudbury, which took 19 hours. I finally flagged down a bus, which actually stopped because I was standing in the middle of the road. I was really hungry. Next it in a 1970 911 Targa when I was 18 years old. The Porsche was a huge improvement. Etc. So, what do I need to learn? I've driven it a dozen times. Has it changed a lot in the last 15 years?
I drove back to Maine. I stopped in Kingston at the sports car club my dad founded in 1951, which became to ruling body of all motorsport in Canada.
Keeripes....I'm guessing you met Stompin Tom too.
Yup, with a truckload of spuds out of P.E.I.
But, David, still damn interested if 17 has changed a bunch. Has it?
It took a moment to see that the car is made up of the letters CASC. Very nice!