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Updates from April, 2012

  • I just read an article describing the current horsepower races European (mostly) auto manufacturers are indulging in. I say mostly because it is primarily a European race — the North American manufacturers are a little busy rebuilding these days. So, with the exception of a handful of muscle cars such as the 500- and 600-horsepower-plus Mustangs, Camaros, Corvettes and the next-generation Vipers, the domestic Big Three are pretty much staying out of it.

    The trend by the European companies is to develop smaller and smaller engines that put out more and more horsepower. So, while horsepower is increasing, the engines’ displacements are decreasing — as are the number of cylinders these engines employ. Many engines produce in excess of 600 hp, which has replaced what was once the Holy Grail of 500 hp. And both Ferrari and Lamborghini are planning on 700-plus-hp cars. Of course, the Bugatti Veyron puts out more than 1,000 hp, but it’s an exception.

    This is all well and good, but a little stupid in some cases. For instance, while a 600-hp Lamborghini is pretty cool, is a 600-hp BMW sedan really necessary? Do you need that much power in order to sit in traffic jams every day, because that is what sedans are for. BMW has even bragged that its 600-hp cars are everyday cars, while exotics are not. Let’s face it, an engine producing 600 or 700 hp needs to be in a car that looks like a McLaren, Lamborghini, Ferrari or some other über-exotic. A 600-hp Mercedes, Audi or BMW coupe or sedan  — not so much.

    Another mistake exotic manufacturers are making is reducing the number of cylinders in their engines. If they look at a little history — most of it their own — this becomes glaringly apparent. Ferrari made a series of eight-cylinder cars during the 1980s. Those cars have never really appreciated much. Most Ferrari aficionados look down their noses at a 308 or 328 as they crank up their 12-cylinder sports cars.

    Maseratis and Lancias were never taken seriously because of their little engines.

    Even older cars are valued on the number of cylinders they possess. I recently saw a Lagonda 12-cylinder roadster sell for more than $1-million. I can buy almost the same car with a six-cylinder engine for around $100,000.

    A 1930s Fleetwood Cadillac Roadster will sell for around $70,000 with an eight-cylinder. The same car with a 12-cylinder can make more than $200,000. But a 1932 Cadillac with a V16 can sell for between $500,000 and $1-million. Funnily, the eight-cylinder car is just about as fast — or maybe even faster — than the V16. I once drag-raced a 1930s V16 Cadillac with an eight-cylinder 1934 Bugatti and kicked its ass.

    Lotus, my favourite automaker, has always created pure drivers’ cars. But, it puts small, incredibly enthusiastic four-cylinder engines in them and, while as fast as their 12-cylinder rivals from the continent, they are far from investor cars. A fire-breathing Lotus V8 Esprit — a definite Ferrari killer in its day — can be had for about the same price as a nicely restored VW Bug, maybe less.

    Jaguar shot itself in the foot in the early 1990s with the creation of the magnificent XJ220 supercar. I recently had one and it is an exceptional car — the fastest in the world in 1992 and still ranked today in the Top 10. It was also one of the most exotic cars I have ever driven, with looks that stopped traffic dead when I passed by. It was the only car I have ever driven that soiled the armpits of my shirts. All this and more, yet it was a spectacular failure.

    Why?

    When it was originally designed, it was supposed to have a V12 engine. Problems with that powerplant saw Jaguar installing a six-cylinder racing engine in its place. This engine was a monster, a really superb twin-turbo masterpiece. Still, dozens of pre-orders with their deposits disappeared overnight. Some customers sued. It was a real mess resulting in only a few more than 200 cars being produced — all because it didn’t have enough cylinders to keep high-end buyers happy. Not one of them cared that the twin-turbo V6 put out more horsepower, that its top end was unbeatable or that the car’s styling was truly among the greats.

    Nope, not enough cylinders.

    So, if I was Ferrari or Lamborghini, I would stick with 12-cylinder engines — as should Mercedes — and only put them in cars that seat two people. Maybe BMW should stay with its V10 cars, but, again, no dogs and no kids unless they are sitting up front. Let’s face it, high horsepower, a lot of cylinders and such is all about ego, not common sense. Common sense is a nice little Kia, Fiesta or Cruze.

    Then again, maybe GM should stuff a 16-cylinder engine in the Cruze and go out and kick BMW’s butt.


    8:00 am on April 26, 2012
     
  • I have the great fortune to visit many interesting and exciting auctions around the world. Recently, I attended an auction that rose head and shoulders above any event I have ever visited. This was the Milhous brothers collection, which was auctioned by RM Auctions of Chatham, Ont. in association with Sotheby’s in Boca Raton, Fla. in February.

    The Milhous brothers are a pair of very successful businessmen who have a propensity for collecting. Their collections ranged from a very expensive and eclectic group of cars to an amazing assortment of 19th- and early-20th-century mechanical musical instruments. Housing these items would be a problem for most people, but the brothers solved theirs by building a 3,716-square-metre, two-level facility — basically an opulent private museum in which to house everything.

    In this building, they created a Disney-like fantasy world that incorporated a vintage town square with a barber shop, bank, radio shop, gas station and a 1930s car dealership filled with two V16 Cadillacs, a huge 1933 Chrysler Custom Imperial and a Duesenberg.

    The bank actually contained an original teller’s cage from the last bank Jesse James robbed, the barber shop was lined with an original Victorian barber shop interior and the gas station was a repository for an amazing collection of original petroliana.

    The fantasy town square, complete with realistic fake trees, street lights and even sidewalks and curbs, surrounded an amazing and exact full-scale reproduction of an early-20th-century carousel. The brothers had wanted an original, but, unable to find one, they opted to faithfully recreate an exact duplicate. The incredible animals on it alone took a team of craftsmen four years to carve.

    While the cars and even the carousel would normally be the focal point of any other collection, in this one, they were diminished by the incredible number of mechanical musical instruments. Many of these towered more than seven metres in the air, were nine metres long and carved and ornamented in white lacquer and gilt and covered in art nouveau carvings and figures.

    These incredible machines had rooms or walls around them covered to the high ceilings in the various musical instruments, which ranged from huge cathedral-like pipe organs to violins, drums and many others. The sound that issued from these great creations was spectacular and not machine-like in any way.

    Smaller and no less opulent musical machines of every type filled nooks and crannies or entire walls over the whole top story of the building. Just about all were in working order. The incredible engineering included machines that had multiple violins inside, which, when played, did so with virtuoso-like authority with no hint of the incredible machinery that surrounded them in order for them to render their music.

    On the day of the auction, it was no surprise that RM had done an even better job than usual of putting qualified and well-heeled bidders in the seats, as well as having a line of operators waiting for phone bids from Europe and other locales.

    The first day of the two-day sale showed how qualified the bidders were. Items such as a fairly mundane ceramic barber’s chair sold for $20,000, likely 10 times its actual value. Many other items also sold for 10 or even 20 times their usual value, bought by people who must consider those sums chump change. It was a little worrying because Larry Burns, my business associate, and I had several art pieces, cars and a 1942 airplane hanging from the ceiling in our sights.

    The next day, we watched items soar to hundreds of thousands of dollars and, in some cases, such as the carousel and some of the bigger musical instruments, more than $1-million.

    When the cars came up, we started bidding. We thought we had a 1933 Delage we wanted for $300,000.

    At the last moment, as the hammer was about to descend, someone jumped in and off we went again. At $400,000, we thought, aha, we have it, only to be denied once again. We finally quit at $475,000 and lost the car by one bid.

    The same thing happened with a 1932 Stutz DV 32 — an early post-First World War racing car called the Rounds Rocket — and a beautiful 1939 Lagonda Rapide 12-cylinder roadster. The Lagonda had been predicted to sell for between $400,000 and $500,000.

    We would have still felt comfortable at $500,000, but then we were forced by common sense and a dim recollection of the real market to drop out again. It finally sold for more than $900,000, another amazing world record established by RM.

    Our last chance to bring something home was the airplane. It was a 1942 PT 22 Ryan Recruit, a successful Second World War trainer. This one had been hanging from the ceiling for 17 years and had not flown for 30, so it needed a lot of work to make it air worthy. That and the fact it was the only plane, not to mention it was suspended 13 metres over people’s heads — so no inspection could be done — seemed to be reasons for it to attract few bids. I really figured we could get it for $20,000 or so, but even $40,000 would have been OK.

    To give you an idea of value, a good flying example can be had for around $80,000 to $90,000, while a perfect award winner would top off at $140,000.

    We never even got a chance to bid. We sat in absolute amazement when it finally hammered down at $200,000, no doubt a world record for a PT 22 and even more so for one needing a complete restoration.

    So, we came home with nothing. Well, that is not actually true. I would gladly do it all over again to spend time in that absolutely amazing private museum, a real Disneyland for adults and now, post auction, something that can never be experienced again.

    Oh, and how did the Milhous brothers do? Total sales were $38.8-million, not bad for a two-day sale.


    8:00 am on April 2, 2012
     
  • This year, I have decided to get a jump on telling everyone about the Concours d’Elegance at Pebble Beach. The reason is simple. I get a lot of people complaining about my reporting after the fact simply because they would have liked the opportunity to attend. This seems a quite reasonable complaint, so I am going to outline the must-sees for anyone wanting to spend a week in Carmel, Pebble Beach and Monterey in August.

    First, while the Concours is a one-day event, it is surrounded by a maelstrom of automotive events that range from cocktail parties at the Monterey Jetport hosted by Gordon McCall to several other concours and car shows and a number of high-end classic car auctions.

    So, let me start at the beginning.

    For the adventurous in spirit, the first event starts near Seattle, Wash. on Aug. 6. This is when the more intrepid car collectors gather and prepare to leave on the 7th for a fabulous winding drive along the coastal roads running from Seattle southward to California, arriving at Pebble Beach on the 15th. Cars in this tour are required to be models from 1968 and older.

    For the less hardy adventurer, there are many events that start from Monday of the big week on to Sunday the 19th, including several other smaller concours and displays.
    My time usually starts on Wednesday, when McCall throws an amazing party at the Monterey Jetport. Here, you will see incredible racing cars from all over the world on display with vintage aircraft. There are displays put on by everyone from watchmakers such as Breitling (I like the hats, but I can’t afford the watches — drat) to almost all the manufacturers of corporate, private and personal jets. These aircraft are virtual palaces with wings and really show how the other 1% lives.

    After Wednesday evening, events begin in earnest. The Tour d’Elegance, which is comprised of three-quarters of the cars that will be competing at the Concours on Sunday, leaves the Polo Fields at Pebble early Thursday morning. A great insider’s tip is to turn up in the dark at around 5 a.m. You can cadge a free coffee and croissant and watch the cars being readied. Seeing 100-plus cars as well as their owners preparing for the tour is wonderful fun and it’s much better than watching them arrive in Carmel for lunch at midday. Of course, that is an option for those rising later.

    Concorso Italiano kicks off on Thursday for those who want to see hundreds of red Italian cars. This is a magnificent display of Ferraris, Alfa Romeos, Lamborghinis and almost every other make of Italian car. It is a not-to-be-missed event for the neophyte.

    You can also attend Laguna Seca, the famous race track perched in the hills above Monterey, for most of the week to watch vintage cars dating from the early 1900s to the 1980s as they hurtle around the tricky course. This is not a parade of old cars. These people are serious. It doesn’t matter if the car on the track is a 1908 Ford Speedster or a 1980s Formula car, the drivers are pushing the cars to their limits. This is a lot of fun and very noisy. You can also walk around in the pits watching the competitors readying their cars. That is amazing and takes a good three hours.

    Quail Lodge in Carmel Valley hosts another one of the great events and, arguably, this is second only to the Pebble Beach Concours itself. This is McCall’s second event of the week, the Motorworks Revival, and it is held all day Friday at Quail Lodge. It is a fabulous gathering of about 2,000 people. Drinks are free (that is, after you have paid for your ticket — be warned, a ticket costs more than $400 and I believe they may already be sold out). Food and drinks are supplied by some of the most prestigious hotels and restaurants in California and beyond, so it’s not hot dogs and beer. You can also see hundreds of cars that are not seen anywhere else all week, so it is truly a great show.

    As a minor diversion, Bonham’s auction tent is less than 20 metres from the lodge, so, if you get excited about classic cars, you can nip across the lane and spend hundreds of thousands of dollars at the auction.

    Speaking of auctions, the most significant car auctions occur at this time. There are too many to list here, but the giant is Canada’s own RM Auctions located in midtown Monterey. It is spectacular. You can pay for admission tickets to wander around looking at the cars, but I believe RM packs the great hall in the hotel so full of bidders that casual observers can’t get in. No worries, though, because you can stand outside and watch the cars queuing up and hear over the loudspeakers and see the entire proceedings on big screens.

    Right across the road, the auction house Russo and Steele holds its event. The cars it will be selling line the streets around the hotel.

    Gooding & Company is another large auction house, which holds its auction at the Polo Fields at Pebble on Sunday evening after the Concours. The cars are on display in Gooding’s tent for most of the week. They are absolutely worth seeing as they are always outstanding.

    Both RM and Gooding usually field not one or two but multiple million-dollar-plus cars at these events, so getting in to see them at close quarters is quite an experience.
    There are dozens of other small events from Ferrari and Lotus manufacturer showcases to large automobilia sales, all worthy of attention. These also run all week.

    Of course, the main event, which never fails to be breathtaking, is the Concours at Pebble Beach, located behind the Del Monte Lodge. It is the progenitor and still the main reason for the entire series of events.

    If attending piques your interest, you can also tell your significant other that these events hold the interest and attention of even people who have no interest in classic cars. Add to that the attraction of spending a few days in one of the most beautiful parts of California, rubbing elbows with some of the richest people in the world, the biggest film and television stars and famous car aficionados and this is a stimulating week for anyone.


    2:00 pm on March 9, 2012
     
  • One of my favourite vehicles is actually a Dodge truck, not a car. When I first started working around vehicles, I fooled around with old military trucks and Jeeps. The reason for this was that they were simple, extraordinarily rugged off-road vehicles and pretty cool. (When I was much younger, my sandbox had been littered with military Dinky Toys.)

    My favourite truck, the civilian Dodge Power Wagon, was a thinly disguised military vehicle that rose from the heavy-duty ¾-ton and one-ton trucks of the Second World War. The first generation was produced from 1946 until the mid-1960s. These trucks were massively overbuilt. When they were more common, it was not unusual to see one customized and festooned with all kinds of equipment such as massive plows, winches or drill rigs that would break the axles of most modern pickup trucks.

    A few weeks ago, a wonderful 1966 Power Wagon arrived at my facility. I was delighted because, as much as I love these trucks, this is the first one that had ever arrived here to be worked on. Funnily enough, while it is the first Power Wagon through my shop doors, it is so familiar because of all the Dodge M 37 military pickups and other Second World War Dodges I have owned and worked on. It was rather like an old friend had arrived.

    Its condition was excellent although unrestored and, if it was mine, I would keep the old, weathered yellow paint and blacked-out frame and just keep driving it.

    When I asked my general manager what the truck was in for, he told me the job was strictly utilitarian and that the owner wanted a modern powerplant installed and a newer transmission with overdrive for the occasional time the truck would be on the road. The frame was to be cleaned, prepped and repainted with a special black anti-oxidizing paint as well.

    It turns out this old truck’s working life is not over. It is being prepared to clear land and ready a building site for the owner’s new home. To be better prepared for this, he felt a modern diesel engine might be in order.

    I have to admit some personal reluctance here because the flathead six-cylinder that was in the old beast was one of the best-working motors ever built. In some of its incarnations, it was known as the Chrysler Industrial engine. This family of motors powered cars and trucks from the 1930s right through to the ’70s, when they could still be found in tow motors, Zambonis and other heavy equipment.

    The engine chosen to replace the original is a Cummins QSB 4.5. This is not a street diesel designed to push a chrome-bedecked urban powder-puff pickup. It is a very serious working motor designed to power heavy agricultural equipment. It would be as happy harvesting thousands of Prairie acres or even sitting at the bottom of a mineshaft pumping out water for a couple of decades.

    The installation of this engine and a rebuilt overdrive transmission has caused some trepidation here as they are far from drop-in. The re-engineering of the truck is daunting for the simple reason that we don’t want to change its outward appearance or modify it beyond the point where a restoration back to the original in the future would be next to impossible. That said, among the things we have to do is re-engineer the steering system, since the new engine will occupy the area where the old steering box was located. We also have to radically alter the whole front end, so there will be a number of factors that come into play in creating a new front suspension and steering gear.

    The unit that puts power to the front axle and PTO is found on a frame crossmember and is far too close to the new transmission, so we have to create a heavy-duty load-bearing crossmember and move the whole assembly backward about 38 centimetres or so. This will mean we have to make a new front driveshaft as well.

    The injection pump on the engine is in the wrong place and the truck’s frame cannot accommodate it at its point of attachment, so we will have to work with engineers at Cummins to relocate that unit.

    We have to move the truck’s firewall backward. This worries me as the Power Wagon doesn’t have a lot of legroom to start with. The truck will be no good if the owner can’t get in and out of it and operate the foot pedals easily — especially in a working situation — so we are going to have to be very clever in solving this problem.

    As the project progresses, there will be many challenges both large and small that crop up. Cooling is always an issue when blending old and new technologies.
    The electrical system in the Power Wagon will have to replaced with a brand new harness and we will have to install all the computers and high-tech required gadgets to run the turbocharged fuel-injected Cummins diesel.

    When it is finished, it should be a magnificent truck capable of another 50 years of heavy work and, if we have done our jobs properly, it will look no different than when it first poked its nose into the shop.


    9:00 am on January 16, 2012
     
  • I once had a client who was 79 years old when I first met him. He was a great client and even better friend. For the next 17 years, until his passing at age 96, we shared a close relationship, which revolved around antique and classic cars, art and many other common interests.

    I had the honour of both maintaining his collection of 20 or so cars and buying and selling cars within his collection as new gems came to light and older acquisitions started to bore him.

    One of his idiosyncrasies was that he could not for the life of him understand my attraction to antique and classic trucks. To him, trucks were quite simply what the gardener or other tradesmen used. As such, they held no more appeal to him than a wheelbarrow or lawnmower. In fact, until I absolutely forced him, horrified, into riding in one of my brand-new loaded Dodge 3500s, he had never been in a pickup. After a day of antiquing, he had to actually admit that the truck, with its wood trim, leather seats and fancy entertainment centre, was the equal of many luxury cars he had owned.

    It still didn’t change his mind about classic trucks and I could never talk him into acquiring one, not even a really rare and desirable 1936 Studebaker Coupe Express Pickup I had come across. This Studebaker was without a doubt the most beautiful and stylish pickup truck ever created. It had flowing Art Deco lines and smoothed and rounded box contours. It was quite simply a masterpiece. It was also an incredibly good investment, one that, had he bought it, would have appreciated several hundred per cent from the asking price at the time to what it would be worth today.

    Not too many years ago, buying an old pickup — even a nicely restored one — was the cheapest way of getting into the classic car hobby. But no matter how nice a truck it was, it did not have the cachet of a 1957 Chev or a ’50s Ford Crown Victoria.

    Over the years, I have owned several classic pickups. There is not one of them that I don’t miss or would never buy again. My favourite was a one-ton 1941 Fargo, a rare civilian truck, one of just six released in 1941 for farm use. The rest of that year’s production was for the military.

    Despite its humble destination and the fact that the Second World War was raging, that truck still bore the highly detailed planet Earth hood ornament and all the flashy stainless Deco trim on its hood, radiator shell and prominent fenders.

    Another great truck I owned was a 1948 Ford F-1. This one was also special because it had the very rare Ford six-cylinder flathead engine. These motors were installed in some pickups headed out to the U.S. grain belt. The reason was that, in the days after the war when things were still a bit tight, pickups often had to serve multiple roles from getting the family to the church on Sunday to ploughing the fields during the week. The six-cylinder had more grunt and was better at multi-tasking than the Ford flathead eights of the day.

    There are others that I miss and I wish I still had owned for two reasons. The first is that I just loved looking at them and playing with them. The second is that pickup  truck values have spiralled in value.

    Today, it is not uncommon to see well-restored pickups sell for in excess of $50,000. A 1949 Mercury pickup, a Canadian-only marque, sold recently at the Toronto collector car auction for $73,000 — an unheard-of sum for any truck up to a few years ago. In the United States, rare pickups such as the Studebaker I once tried to have my friend purchase for his collection can sell for more than $100,000. I think the first $250,000 classic truck is waiting just over the hill if, in fact, that price has not already been achieved somewhere.

    The new popularity of collector trucks is probably nurtured by the common acceptance of SUVs and trucks as primary vehicles and even luxury rides such as the Cadillac and Lincoln pickups.

    Trucks now hold a major part of the collector hobby and are near and dear to the hearts of many, but, to others, no matter how fancy or rare, they will always just be mundane devices to get lawnmowers to the lawn.


    2:00 pm on December 31, 2011
     
  • It has been quite a while since I wrote a progress report on the Bugatti Aerolithe that I have been building for several years. Despite the lengthy period, I still get regular requests to update the progress.

    Despite many readers’ concerns that the project has become moribund, it hasn’t, and, in fact, it has never even slowed down, but it has reached a difficult stage where we have been producing all the tiny bits and pieces required to build a car from scratch. Add to that the stipulation that the parts being manufactured had to replicate exactly the style and engineering of 1936 and it became extraordinarily time consuming. It also lent very little to the creation of sparkling progress reports.

    Now, I am happy to say that 95% of the parts manufacture is done. The only major fabrication remaining is finalizing the two front fenders, hood and the aprons that surround the frame and radiator. We will also need to create the hold-downs and hood hinges for these, but those are small items quickly rendered.

    The frame and driveline is complete and the engine is just having its final inspection before it is assembled for the very last time. The interior is ready to install with just the upholstering of the seats remaining. We chose pale green leather in keeping with the exterior colour of the car, which is a very silvery green. This will no doubt be contentious as common myth and misunderstanding is that the car was silver.

    Our proof for the colour we are using is a painting executed by a Bugatti engineer by the name of Bigtet in 1936. He presented the painting as a gift to Jean Bugatti, the car’s designer and heir to the Bugatti dynasty. It seems hardly likely that he would have painted the car any colour but the correct one and, in the painting, the Aerolithe is represented flying down a rural road at speed and it is most definitely light green.

    While no colour photographs exist of the car, we were fortunate to have stumbled across colour photographs of another Bugatti of the same vintage, which is identical in colour to the painting. Voila!

    The entire rear shell and rear fenders are complete and under paint. The correct tail lights were sourced in France and we had to build the mounts and sockets into the rear fenders, which sweep around the rear of the car and meet in the middle. The amazing fin that runs from the front of the car over its roof and down the long tapering tail is complete and filled with all of its rivet detail. The rivet size and distance apart were carefully scaled from the photographs and are exactly as original.

    The spoked wheels were manufactured to specification, but there is a problem with the tires. We have period-appropriate Dunlops on the car. However, when it appeared at the Paris auto show, it sported whitewall Dunlops with the Dunlop script in raised black lettering. This has been a problem. A few years ago, I had great luck with Dunlop recreating tires for another Bugatti project and it was very supportive. But, this time, despite repeated attempts, we have failed to garner any interest or even returned phone calls from the company.

    What we have recently discovered is that Dunlop may never have made wide whitewall tires, and those sported by the cars on the Bugatti stand in 1936 may have actually been painted. This makes life easier, but it will no doubt stir another hornets’ nest of controversy. (Yes, the politics of Bugatti enthusiasts are that anal.)

    I had the instruments for the car restored by a specialist in Holland, and they were wildly expensive, coming in at a cool $9,400. But they did arrive in their own custom metal briefcase with a wonderful wooden plaque with my firm’s name and commissioning date. That made me feel much better about the cost.

    The chassis of the car is absolutely original and any alterations that we had to make to it were done with the addition of a few milled blocks of machined aluminum. This was done to implement the setback for the motor. In the Aerolithe, the motor was 90 centimetres back from the usual motor mount points. We created machined aluminum blocks shaped to curve with the engine and chassis and be quite unobtrusive. Other than that, the new coachwork fits the old chassis like a glove. This is despite the widely held belief by many entrenched Bugattistes that the car had a very different frame from the original standard Type 57 Bugatti frame we have used.

    I had the body built with no reference to the frame, only to the few photographs that existed of the car, so we were all very surprised when the body fit the standard chassis with virtually no problems. In fact, if we had been mounting the coachwork on the supercharged frame that many feel was under the Aerolithe, we would have had to make quite a few alterations.

    In my innocence I told of this discovery in print both here and abroad several years ago and have been the subject of quite a bit of mail, most of it quite hateful. Most amusingly, I was accosted at Retromobile in Paris last winter and I am sure that my detractor found it quite frustrating that I really and genuinely don’t care which is right or wrong as the car I am building is not the original Aerolithe. That car most likely ended up in the smelters of wartime Europe.

    We will certainly be finished by late winter or early spring next year.  Many people have asked what will happen once it is finished. That is entirely up to the car’s long-suffering and very patient owner but, whatever its fate, I am sure it will create a stir wherever it goes and impress all who see it. Even 75% assembled, the car’s lines and details are breathtaking, and no mean-spirited criticisms or controversy will ever be able to alter that fact.


    9:00 am on December 27, 2011
     
  • I get a lot of requests from seniors for advice on restoring cars they own that have great sentimental value to them. In most cases, the cars are not outstanding examples of automotive art. In fact, they are usually just old grocery-getters. Their appeal is emotional and, as heirlooms and snapshots of people’s lives, they are invaluable. But their value as heirlooms should sometimes be checked with the rest of the family before being restored.

    The reason I say this is that I have far too often restored such cars only to find that, a year or so after the owner’s passing, his or her car is listed for sale. Too many times — after having had a king’s ransom spent on them — these cars become more of an albatross than a prized possession. The emotional appeal may be far less or even totally nonexistent to the children or others to whom the car is passed.

    Too often I hear, “Well, we just don’t have anywhere to store Dad’s old car” or “we never drive Mom’s old car” or  “we can’t afford to maintain Dad’s old car.”
    There are those who even willingly trade their parent’s old car for the money to buy a new kitchen renovation or snowmobile.

    There are definitely times where it is worthwhile to restore an old car as an heirloom — and, in some rare instances, it may even prove to be a worthwhile investment. But, most often, the opposite is true.

    I have had clients spend as much as $250,000 to restore a car that, when finished, was worth less than $10,000. In these cases, I certainly have spoken to these owners like a Dutch uncle, but the mists of nostalgia can blind people to the cold, hard facts of fiscal reality. Sometimes, they don’t care about the price, the end objective being more important than the cost of getting there. In other cases, people have entered into a project with all the appropriate warnings at the beginning, but they  choose not to listen despite the fact the project may end up creating real financial hardships — and, sometimes, strife in the family.
    I keenly remember one young woman sitting in front of my desk demanding to know why I was letting her father spend her inheritance. In fact, it may have been that the father in this particular case may have been doing it to spite her. Mind you, it seems unimaginable that someone wouldn’t want a pristine, black, three-on-the-tree, bottom-of-the-line six-cylinder 1954 Pontiac coupe.

    Another couple brought me the rustiest car I have ever worked on — and that is really saying something. When it arrived at the shop, it had lost more than 40 kilograms in weight, which had to be swept out of the trailer. It also broke in half when it was being loaded. Despite that, the owners plunged in and did a comprehensive restoration.

    There were some obstacles. For one, they did not want to use any replacement parts and went ballistic when I bought another car to supply bits and pieces. I actually had to cut the frames of both cars to bits and splice them together to keep as much of the original car as possible. The same thing occurred with the body and I had to splice pieces together from two or more donor cars rather than replace them. Even the air cleaner on the motor looked as though it had been peppered with bird shot — yet they would not approve a replacement and I had to rebuild the original.

    With that restoration, money was never a complaint and it clearly created no hardship. At the end, they stood, tears in their eyes, looking at the car. This was the car that the man’s father had bought new, given him to go to college, used during the couple’s romance and betrothal and during their first years of marriage. The cost of the restoration ended up being more than $200,000. The car was a 1967 Pontiac Catalina with bench seats, radio and trim delete. The price new was likely around $2,000; its value as a restored car would not exceed $10,000 if you could find someone who wanted a green four-door with bench seats.

    I am often approached by people in their 60s or 70s who have retired and who still own their old sports car or boulevard cruiser, which they have kept since their teens or 20s. Sometimes, it is realistic to restore these cars. But, no matter how much someone may want to capture at least a flavour of his or her youth, restoration is not a good idea if the owners are on fixed incomes or living off savings. Too much can go wrong — and even the best shop can run into unexpected problems that blow a budget to hell.

    This is not to say people shouldn’t invest in their dreams. I have had the good fortune to accompany many people on journeys into their past and, often, it makes for the most satisfying kind of restoration for the owners and me. But these projects should never, ever become a financial burden or affect people’s lives in a negative fashion.

    In some cases, it may be a lot more fun to sit on a beach in Costa Rica than pass on a 1975 Chevy Vega to the kids.


    9:00 am on December 18, 2011
     
  • I received a letter from Robert Beattie, executive director of the Used Car Dealers Association of Ontario, complaining about a column on 1950s-type used car salespeople I recently wrote about.

    In that letter, Mr. Beattie accuses me of not being informed on developments in the used car industry over the last few decades. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth.

    I am fully aware that there are rigid rules and regulations — [which was mentioned in the story ] — and for the most part they do offer protections in Ontario lacking in most other jurisdictions in North America. However, there will always be rule and law breakers. Those so inclined will always find grey areas in which to operate. While there are rules and regulations binding the modern used car salesperson, which a vast majority obey stringently, some still survive that operate in the finest spirits of the con men on the Danforth of 1950s Toronto.

    My exposure to used car salespeople and dealerships is less than some, but, of course, it’s much more than most. I guess the easiest thing to do would be to just point out three recent occasions where I have been involved in annoying situations with used car dealers. These range from full out lies with the first example to just plain bad manners with the last.

    The first involved a 1960s Rolls- Royce Phantom that was restored by and offered by a Rolls-Royce dealership. I was involved in its purchase for a friend and took a look at the car’s condition. It wasn’t perfect, but it was tidy enough. I sat in the back seat and then tried the rear window switches. Neither of the two rear windows worked, nor did the glass divider between the front and the back seats. I asked what the problem was and the sales manager for the dealership assured me that it was just a fuse and to his knowledge they had been working just fine.

    My friend purchased the car and I had it picked up in order to do a few alterations that he wanted. When it arrived at my facility, I asked, among other things, that the fuse be located for the windows and replaced. Imagine my surprise when a half hour later my mechanic asked me to take a look at the car’s window problem.  The fuse was fine. The reason that the windows were reluctant to work properly was that the electrical motors, slide assemblies, jacking arms and electrical system as a whole were all missing. They had been replaced with a few bits of 2×4 wedged under the windows. When I phoned to complain and received a less that courteous reply, I invoked the name of OMVIC, the Ontario Motor Vehicle Industry Council, the consumer’s first line of protection. The sales manager laughed quite gleefully, said, “Knock yourself out” and then hung up on me.

    In looking to place a complaint, the process was so, well let’s just say, bureaucratic, that the owner of the car, an older gentleman, just begged off and had me fix it, an expensive proposition for a “fully restored” car.

    The next instance was when I was taking a look at a Lamborghini with another friend. To shorten the story I will just say that as we looked at the car with one gentleman, another salesman ran out and said that the car was sold and a buyer was coming within the hour with cash. Moments later, a third walked out and stood beside me as the first revved the hell out of the Lamborghini’s engine. This was to prove to me how much better it sounded than the engine in my Lotus Evora, the car in which I had driven up earlier. This news bit was totally unsolicited but seemed to be a great sales tactic. If you insult the shill’s car, it makes him want the car you’re selling much, much more.  After this performance, the third gentleman said quietly that if I would like the car I could still have it, I would just have to pay more than the asking price. Funnily enough, I didn’t buy it.

    My most recent experience was when that same friend and I took a road trip to Guelph to look at a Ferrari that he was interested in buying. The meeting was prearranged and we had with us the ability to buy the car on the spot. After an hour and a half drive, we arrived at a huge used car dealership and asked for the sales manager. Amusingly clustered in the foyer of the dealership like a school of hungry sharks were a dozen or so used car salesmen, some in cheap suits, some in fancy shirts, one with gold chains and one dressed like a cowboy, Stetson and all.

    The sales manager came into the foyer, introduced himself and then said gravely, “I have bad news for you. Could we please come to my office?”

    Only one thing, I replied, could be bad news and that was that the car we had driven all that way to see had somehow become unavailable.

    He apologized and said indeed that was the case — he had sold the car the night before. When asked why he did not call me to tell me the car was sold, he said it would have been too late, we would have already been on the road.

    I responded that Toronto was less than a day’s drive and he had plenty of time, and that if he had phoned and I was on the road, my receptionist could have contacted me in the same way he could have, phoning my cell, one of the numbers I had provided him.

    He then started into a sales patter about how it didn’t matter because he could find me another Ferrari just like the one they had sold on us.

    At that point, we were back in the  foyer and I may have become a little, but satisfyingly, agitated. I pointed out that a Ferrari is not a Sunbird and that he was probably not the go-to guy for Ferraris in Ontario. I also stated, rather loudly, perhaps, that he had questionable business practices and not too many brains if he thought we would sit down with him and discuss any further business.

    If in my limited exposure to used car salesmen I have come across this and some other subtle abuses of ethics, some quite serious, then I can’t imagine what occurs on a daily basis.

    Yes, there are rules, but, yes, there will always be rule benders and breakers. It serves no one ill to keep that in mind no matter how many bureaucracies have been created to protect you.


    9:00 am on December 2, 2011