The Future of Collecting

Cunningham C-4R and Miles Collier.

The 331-cid Chrylser Hemi burbled and backfired as we descended from the 10,910-ft. Molas Pass. It was day three of the Colorado Grand, and I was behind the wheel of the 1953 Sebring-winning Cunningham C-4R. Currently under the stewardship of Miles Collier (“We don’t really own these cars; we just take care of them and pass them on to someone else,” he tells me), the Cunningham was surprisingly easy to drive. The synchros in the four-speed gearbox were effective, and the copious horsepower combined with the relatively light weight made passing lumber trucks and motorhomes thrilling rather than terrifying. We’ll have an essay on the Grand in our next issue. But in short, it’s components include magnificent scenery, an absence of stress-inducing competition, the relatively benign cooperation of the police, and a first-rate organizational structure. This results in serious collectors feeling comfortable bringing out their serious cars for 1,000 miles or so of healthy exercise. As important as the driving were the conversations. Yes, the owners of these cars, ranging from Maserati A6G Zagatos to Alfa Monzas to BMW 507s to Ferrari 212s, have generally done well in their day jobs, hence their exotic toys. They’ve made their choices about what cars to collect with the same thoughtfulness that has characterized their decisions in their business dealings. Each night was filled with animated discussions about the various merits of different marques, and different models within those marques. As you might expect, some of my most intense discussions took place with Miles Collier. Founder of a series of seminars on connoisseurship and the collectible car, Collier brings the same type of approach he has learned from his experience in the art world to car collecting. (He is a practicing artist who recently showed his paintings at the von Liebig Art Center, in Naples, FL.) Why do we collect? What do we collect? Do we preserve or restore? As the car collecting hobby matures, these are questions being asked with increasing frequency.

THE GOLDEN AGE

The morning mountain air was delightfully chilling at 80 mph. After our downhill run, we pulled into Silverton, CO, to get a coffee. I parked the Cunningham between long–time SCM’ers Bruce Male’s A6G Zagato and the Mercedes Gullwing of Diego Ribadineira. As we warmed up in the early-morning mountain sun, we looked at the fifty or so exotic cars parked on the street of the frontier town. “I think this era will be known as the golden age of car collecting,” said Collier. “There are few restrictions on our ability to drive these old cars, and there are still enough mechanics around who really know how to keep them running properly.” If we go forward 100 years, it’s not impossible that combustion engines, especially heavily polluting ones in vintage machines, might be illegal to operate on a public highway. Further, the differential between the capabilities of old cars and new ones will become increasingly large. Plans are already in the working stages for some highways to have data reception and transmission capabilities, with vehicles routed or directed remotely. It’s unlikely that someone would be interested in retrofitting a set of these computerized controls to a 1957 Maserati 200Si. Perhaps like horses, with their trailers and regulations for riding only on designated trails, vintage cars will have to be transported to special areas and then driven on specifically set-aside roads. When your driving time is done, no more putting up the top and heading down the Interstate—it will be back into the car hauler for the trip home. Today, you can go to the local collector car dealer, plunk down the cash for, say, a 1954 MG-TF, and just start driving. No permits, no special permission required.

WHO WILL TUNE YOUR WEBERS?

Collier also mentioned that finding mechanics who understand how old cars work is becoming increasingly difficult. I know from my own experience that the V12 mechanic I have gone to faithfully for a decade, Gerry Follette, has semi-retired from Ron Tonkin Gran Turismo, here in Portland, OR. He has left a void. Gerry once owned an SWB, back when they were just used cars, and he truly understands carbureted cars. The other technicians at the shop are competent, but they have cut their teeth on fuel-injected, computerized Ferraris. There’s simply no substitute for someone who has forty years of experience synchronizing three or six dual Webers, and who can intuitively feel just how much to back off a mixture screw to get an engine to idle smoothly. And Ferraris aren’t particularly complicated cars. Who is going to work on the great pre-war classics, the Alfa 1750s, the Mercedes 540Ks and the Bugatti Type 57s? Where will the institutional memory reside that can tell us how these cars felt when they were new? Who can tell you that your car shouldn’t be shifting as badly as it does, or that the steering should be lighter? Who will be there to do the fettling that turns a restored car from an assembled bunch of pieces into a brilliantly performing machine? So the next time you pull your Daytona, MGB, or Aston Martin DB2/4 out of the garage and take it for a spin, reflect for a moment on just how fortunate you are to be able to enjoy your classic car with few, if any, regulatory hassles. For those who enjoy driving old cars, these truly are the best of times.