I got up early that day, grabbed a quick coffee and headed for Tamber Bey Vinyards in Calistoga, the designated starting point for the event. I gave myself two hours to get there by the 9AM launch, but between slowdowns on the road and a map program sending me to the delivery address rather than the winery, I barely made it in time to park my truck and hop in Marc's 142 for the start.
There were about 70 cars assembled in the winery lot, but most were not exactly what I'd call 'vintage.' Nineties Porsches were probably the most common denomination, and our '71 Volvo was one of the oldest cars in the group. It turned out that the 'vintage' designation meant '99 or older. I could have entered my Toyota truck!
Marc's buddy Jon was also along for the ride. He's a Mopar guy so we immediately bonded over the beauty of the Slant Six and Valiants in general. He was sporting the coolest vintage (actual vintage, not like those '90s Porsches) Medfly t shirt! If you lived in California circa 1980, you know what I'm talking about, otherwise click here.
As soon as we got on the road it was clear that there were really two rallies: one for the newer cars and another for the small crop of old-timers like us. Ten minutes into the drive and the newer cars weren't even in sight... not great since Marc had not really memorized the route and we ended up just guessing where the turns were.
One car that was doing its damndest to keep up with the newer iron was a beautiful NSU Prinz. I'm guessing it was a mid-late '60s model, and according to Jon, had four carbs. I didn't get a look before we took off, but Jon and Marcos both said the engine compartment was impressive... it must have been, because the car went like a scalded cat. The driver diced with us for a minute then roared past on a turn and disappeared up the road. Unfortunately the NSU's throttle cable broke about 10 minutes later, and we passed him on the side of the road with the hood up. His day was over.
We got to the first stop - a small market with a big parking lot - about 40 minutes into the drive. There was a bit of bench racing and a long line for the john.
This scene was pretty far afield of the car stuff I usually do. There were probably 30 Porsches (all immaculate) and at least one Ferrari. Piles of BMWs. If I sold every vehicle I own I'd barely have enough for a downpayment for one of these cars, so I was way out of my depth. But, everyone was friendly, and I enjoyed ogling all the semi-exotic machinery. After 15 minutes or so the show got back on the road and we planned to hang back with the TR4, '70s beemers and the lone VW bug.
That was the theory anyway. In practice, Marc has a lead foot and a competitive edge, so before long we were leaving the old tin behind and catching up with the slightly slower new vehicles like BMW wagons and sedans.
The road twisted downhill through the woods, coming out into a gorgeous valley with mountains off to our left. The valley straight let us open up a bit - but not enough to keep up with the other cars, which were way out of sight. After a few minutes we came to a road that headed toward the mountains and seemed like the one we were supposed to turn on. Sure enough, there was a Porsche pulled over at the turn.
"He waited for us!" Marc yelled as the Porsche pulled back on the road ahead of us. Marc had talked to the driver - a former longtime Volvo owner - at the pit stop.
The road got twisty as we got into the hills: Steep rock outcropping on the left, a ravine with a creek at the bottom on the right. The curves slowed everyone down, and we caught sight of some newer cars ahead of us. Then, we came to a dead stop.
There was a line of about 10 cars stopped ahead of us, as if waiting at a traffic light. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, this was not a good sign.
Marc stayed with the car as Jon and I walked up the line of cars to see what was going on. Ahead of us was a Toyota Celica on its roof, blocking the left lane. The driver's door was open.
The driver was sitting nearby, being checked on by several people. Miraculously, he seemed OK, just shaken up. I heard him say that he was fine other than that his watch had cut his wrist.
Later we ran into the people who had been in the car just ahead of him. They watched the scene in the rearview mirror: the Celica's rear had started to slide as the driver entered the turn - he over-corrected, the wheels caught, and he drove straight up the hill until the car flipped over and landed on the pavement. It all happened in an instant.
With the driver safe and being attended to and flagging stations set up on both sides of the wreck, there was nothing to do but move on. The line of cars carefully snaked past the scene and we headed for the last leg of the rally.
But not really. The accident had taken the wind out of our sails and Marc was driving at an almost leisurely pace. It seemed like the other drivers were having the same experience. The rally was, for all intents and purposes, over.
As much as I love these kinds of drives, they do bring out the worst in some people. When you get behind the wheel of a 'fun' car it's easy to forget that there are other people on the road who aren't part of a rally, who are just driving to work, or taking their kids to a friends' house. And it's easy to forget that sometimes shit goes wrong.
As crappy as this was, it could have been so much worse. The driver was OK. He didn't hit anyone else. He can fix up another car and drive a rally another day.
Be careful out there.
Thanks to Ben with the P1800 for the top photo...
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