One year of ownership - cross country drive

[yale]

I live in NYC and because of that salient fact, unlike many people who read car magazines, I have only owned 4 cars in my 56 years on the planet. For all intents and purposes my first car was a 1964 Ferrari 330GT that I bought in 1999 when my neighbor, an investment banker, asked if I wanted a free parking space. Of course I did and then had to buy some kind of cool car to put in it. I’m not sure my wife appreciated my choice. She grew up in a family that always owned foreign cars and in the 1960’s had spent many an hour stuck on the side of the road on Long Island. (And her cousin Tom, before he could even drive, worked for the legendary race mechanic Jim McGee) So my buying in to this sort of car culture was all too familiar to her. And true to form the Ferrari broke down….a lot! I even got to know all the AAA flatbed drivers in NYC, but that’s another story.

This story jumps a few years to last May when I bought a beautiful blue 1970 911S from a guy many here know named Curt in Pasadena. I could truck the car back east, or... Since this is the one year anniversary of my owning “Curt’s car” I thought I should write up my cross country trip as a birthday ode.

Photos:
1. The four seat 1964 Ferrari 330GT
2. Curt's 1970 911s

[Reza]

'rockin

The message you have entered is too short

[naparsei]

Is the 330GT "Blu Caracalla" in color?

[Chuck Miller]

Very cool Yale,

Anticipating more here, and perhaps a future article in the ESSES........

[yale]

The color is Blu Sera Metallic (Metallic Evening Blue). And there seem to be as many Ferrari blues as Porsche blues if not even more.

[ibmiked]

I think after one year and a cross country trip the car is no longer 'Ex-Curt's' and is now 'Yale's'.

[yale]

I flew out to LA and picked up the car from Curt's garage. Curt had warned me that he had just gotten the car together and had spent almost no time in it himself. He suggested I drive up to Monterey to hang with the R Gruppe on their Treffin 2011 before I was to start east. That way if there were any unfinished issues I would hopefully be aware of them while I was not in the middle of the desert.

SUNDAY
To Yosemite, California
The R Gruppe people were fantastic and the car was absolutely great.
I took off from Monterey Sunday morning heading west on 152.
I have never been to Yosemite and had no idea what it was really all about other then the iconic images from Ansel Adams.

As the car climbed higher and higher up the mountain pass that lead to Yosemite Valley an incredible snow cover hung on the trees. Pretty magical.

I got to the hotel I was staying in about noon and decided to drive straight into the valley and have lunch at the renowned Ahwanee Lodge. The car that had been running great did not seem to like the altitude. It had much less power at 6000 feet up, plus driving at the Yosemite 35 mph speed limit was pretty grueling and then the speedometer stopped working.

After stops at a myriad of incredible falls and vistas I got to the Ahwanee. As I pulled into the parking lot the car started making a really loud and repetitive clacking sound that I thought might be coming from the limited slip diff, (what do I know). I saw nothing dragging under the car nor was anything leaking so after lunch I continued on hoping the noise would magically disappear. Too bad things never work out that way.

The concierge at the hotel had suggested a hike so I pulled the noisemaking car over again and walked up to yet another amazing waterfall. The way back was through a mythically beautiful field surrounded by mountains with snow falling lightly. I sat on a bench that was in the center of this primordial scene and did the 21st Century thing, called a friend of mine who used to race a 1972 T and works as a floating Ferrari mechanic. “Tom my car is making this horrible repetitive noise mostly when I accelerate. I think it’s the limited slip.”
Tom said. “That doesn’t make any sense, the limited slip would usually only make noise when you are turning. It could be the CV joints. You should get the car on a lift tomorrow and have someone see if anything is obvious.”

Back on the road it was snowing harder and I was appreciating Curt having fixed the heat. As the snow got stronger and stronger fewer and fewer cars were on the road. I fell in behind a slow moving chain of cars leaving the valley until my windshield wiper, packed with snow, flew off. Nothing like driving an old car - embarrassing noises and flying windshield wipers.

I pulled over at one of those “your speed is” signs and put it back on. Having lost the chain of other cars I sped up –slightly- and instantly got pulled over by a park policeman.
“Do you know how fast you were going sir?”
“Um no my speedometer isn’t working, sorry.”
“Well sir there is a sign back there that tells you your speed.”
“Uh yes but at the point I was passing that my wiper flew off so I did not notice my speed as I pulled over to put it back on.”
“Well sir you were going 41 miles per hour! There are children around here.”
“Very sorry officer.”
“I’ll just give you a warning. Better get your speedometer fixed right away.”
“Thank you officer, I will.”

Photos:
1. Treffen 2011
2. The car sees its first snow, (well since owned by me and Curt at any rate)
3. The amazing Yosemite

[Mark Morrissey]

Very cool Yale,

Anticipating more here, and perhaps a future article in the ESSES........

Yale did do an Esses article... didn't you Yale? And +1 on Mike's comment... it's your car now dewd

[yale]

Yale did do an Esses article... didn't you Yale? And +1 on Mike's comment... it's your car now dewd

I did an Esses on buying the car. And as for the ex-Curt thing, I love the car and the choices Curt made when he was rebuilding it so to me the "ex-curt" thing is a tribute and an appreciation of that.

[yale]

MONDAY.
To Nevada
I asked at the hotel the next morning if there was a place near Yosemite I could have look at my car. They suggested a tire store in the nearby town. Usually I hate doubling back but since the pass out of Yosemite was closed due to snow my initial plan to drive through Yosemite wasn’t going to work anyway. When someone in the R Gruppe had said you might see snow in Yosemite I had thought that meant I would see snow- in the distance - not that it would still be winter here.

I got to the tire store at 8am. Every other car in the lot, which was shared by about three auto repair places, was a truck.

They got my car on a lift, one that did not let the wheels turn free. Nothing looked obviously amiss though they noticed that the lowered car was wearing deep grooves in the 205 width tires and that the arms that are attached to the rear fenders were not attached. Hoping that solving these issues would take care of the noise I bought the only set of 195 60 15 tires they had, Goodyear Eagle GTs.

As I was paying my wife’s best friend from 15 years ago walked in. She had moved to Yosemite years before and we had not seen or heard from her since. Needless to say her jaw dropped.

Back on the road all was good, for about 15 minutes. Then the damn noise started up again! I drove back to the tire shop and took one of the mechanics out for a drive. Of course, no noise. So ok, intermittent noises made us both hope this was nothing too serious so back off I went.

The day before at Yosemite I asked the ranger at the park gate how was I to get over the Sierras as the pass in Yosemite was closed. She suggested going over on route 88. The concierge at the hotel had looked up 88 in her computer and said they are saying 88 is open - if you have chains. Like many of us I choose to listen to the people who are telling me what I want to hear, so towards route 88 I went.

You California people have you ever driven on 49? Damn what a fine road that was. I know people from California hate leaving the state and with roads like this I can see why. It snaked along the bottom of the Sierras going through old gold mining towns for the 150 miles it took for me to get to my turn off.

Route 88 goes over a 8000 foot pass. The car wasn’t that happy, neither at altitude nor with the falling snow but we made it and the wipers stayed on! Down on the Nevada side I pulled over in the town of Gardnerville to figure out my new route since I was not where I had been expecting to be. Looking up from my maps I noticed I was in front of a Basque restaurant! Damn! I had read about the Basque sheepherders who had been brought to Nevada to mind sheep and had opened Basque rooming houses, bars and restaurants. And here in front of me was J.T,’s Basque Restaurant* just in time for an early dinner.

I walk in and notice a ceiling of the bar covered in hanging dollar bills and on the top of the walls were hanging a line of cowboy hats. One of those places that feels like it’s been here a while.
“Can I have a menu?”
“That’s not how things work here. We serve family style, you get salad with our house dressing, beans, chicken and rice and choose a main course of either lamb shank, lamb chops, lamb shoulder, sweetbreads, steak or salmon ravioli. You also get ice cream and a glass of wine. Will this work for you?”
“Uh sure. I have a six hour drive tonight so can I get ice tea instead of wine?”
“That will be extra.
“Ok.”
After the nice meal I got back in the car. I had decided to go on route 50 instead of route 6 that I had expected to take.
Route 50 touched the outskirts of Reno and for a while through a pretty awful chain of strip malls and traffic lights, (and traffic), but after awhile it opened up, the traffic lights disappeared and an incredible high desert vista with distant mountains became the scenery. After passing through the one major bisected town of Fallon I noticed no other cars on the road. My speed increased. Of course when you buy a car you always wonder what it will do, (well I know guys wonder, girls probably could care less.) This was perhaps the only time in my life where I was able to take 2 hours (!) off the time the GPS told me a certain trip would take.

A full moon eclipsed the twilight, the landscape was as beautiful as could be, the road was straight with almost no one on it, rockin! I did pass a Toyota pickup with California plates a cab cover and surfboard. Every once in a while the road would wind through some mountains. This was a bit hard without high beams, which for some reason wouldn’t come on. Four hours later I arrived in Ely and checked into the Hotel Nevada. The tallest building in Nevada in 1920, $45 for a room. This included a coupon for a free margarita at the bar and a certain amount of credit at the gambling machines strewn around the lobby. They even had one of those phone booths with money in it that I guess if you won a certain amount you would get to stand in and grab at bills while a gale force fan blew them around.
The woman checking me in was also conversing with a grizzled older guy at the counter;
“So why do you think your snake is unhappy?”
“He’s having trouble shedding”
“What makes you think giving him a bath will help?”
And overheard from the same couple later when I picked up my bag to go to the elevator,
“Sally would love you if you bought her a truck.

* 3. J & T Basque Restaurant (Per Euskalkultura.com), "This wooden building that was brought from Virginia City to Genoa in 1895, and then later to Gardnerville, tells quite a story. It was purchased in 1954 by John and Grace Jaunsaras and Jimmy and Grace Trounday, thus its name the JT (Jaunsaras and Trounday). In 1960 Jean (and Shirley) Lekumberry and Jean's brother Pete Lekumberry, bought it and kept it Basque. Pete returned to the Basque Country and Jean continued the operation until 1993 when he died of a heart attack. Since that time his children, Mary Louise and Jean Baptiste Lekumberry have continued the business The bar houses a collection of hats as well as a dollar bill collection hanging from the ceiling. The Basque weekly Herria comes regularly from the Basque Country and is always available at the bar for customers to read..."

Photos:
1. J.T.'s Resturant - outside
2. J.T. 's Resturant - inside
3. The snowy morning scene.