My father was a wonderful man, devoted and nurturing to his four children. This was especially true of his two sons, who he taught character, self-reliance, and ability to self instruct. I suspect the last was foremost in his mind in 1964 when he “loaned” me, a college junior dweeb, the magnificant sum of $1,000…
In the pre-dawn darkness I reached out and gave the choke knob a little tug and felt smoothness settle over the car. Needs about two flats down on the mixture nuts. Last night’s test run was cut short by a loose connector on the headlight dip-switch. I should make it from Monterey to Redding in…
To drive a sports car more than a few decades old demands skill in the very particular requirement of shifting gears. Almost by definition these cars have manual shift transmissions. Some are three-speeds, most are four and some may have a fifth in the form of an over-drive. Also by definition, most of them are…
Forget the Sound of Music. On the first weekend of August, the hills near Flintstone, Maryland were alive with the sound of competition cars on a 1.2-mile, nine turn, rural road up Polish Mountain. Fred and Barney must love the deep-throated sound of the Yamaha-powered D Sports Racers, the Mustangs and Camaros, Mazdas and even…
I have been a vintage British car fan since the days before they were considered vintage. Fate and career choices of adulthood delayed my craving for a Little British Car until 1997, when I moved to Santa Barbara. There, I chased down a car wonderfully suited to the local narrow roads and my short commute. Acquiring…
I had a Moss catalog with me in the Middle East and shipped parts to my parents’ house. Returning home, just days after my Desert Storm tour ended with the Army, I tore my car down to its chassis, and the long task of rebuilding and replacing began. I would say the MGA did not experience…
It was about 10:30pm on a chilly January night when I received the phone call from my brother. His voice was sullen as he asked me a question I knew was borne in pain and being offered with trepidation. “Can you help me get Maggie going again? It’s time to sell her.” He had finally…
There I was, stuck on level ground. I’d been trying, with no luck, for several minutes to rock the car out of its ¼-inch deep groove. Two cowboys wandered past, no doubt spotted the California plate (MG LIVES ironically enough, even though without help the car would be stuck there until late spring), and asked…
