It is exactly how it sounds. “Car Week” in and around Monterey, California, is a celebration of the automobile.- those that race, those that sell and those that shine. What I love about it is that despite the rarity and eye-boggling price tags of a lot of these cars, no event has a museum vibe. “Cars are meant to be driven” is the impression I get.
Start Your Engines
When I got home from work around lunch time on Tuesday, Dan was already cleaned up, packed up and ready to go. It still took us a couple of hours to get everything together that we needed, then we were off in the SVT. Cleo wasn’t joining us on this trip, having been dropped off to her pet sitter just down the road.
Armed with mountain bikes, our volunteer uniforms and the warm clothes we’d need for the chill fog of the Monterey peninsula, we drove south. We stopped in Santa Cruz for dinner and drinks with the Arthur family. Having all been hit with covid over the last month, we were overdue not only for piano lesson with Jonah but a general catch up.
Once it got properly dark we continued on south to Nick and Katy’s beautiful home in Pebble Beach. I work with Nick at SLAC and Katy is a remote worker. Having house hunted in the Bay Area for many months, they made the move down to Pebble with the intention of creating their forever home.
It must have been nearly 10pm by the time we arrived and we had much to see! N&K were in the midst of major renovation to their kitchen having demolished an aging and leaking sun room with a temporary wall in its place. We chatted away, all of us excited about the week to come but unfortunately for Katy, she’d be working through a lot of it.
Reporting For Duty
We would be the media center hosts for the next four days, working the morning shift welcoming journalists, TV hosts, videographers and the like as they set up shop and received their media credentials. It was the same job as last year so we knew exactly what to expect. It was a nice feeling and as such we were much more relaxed, showing up only a few minutes before our start time of 9am.
The media center is situated in the Concours Village hosting a work area for media personnel and also a makeshift theatre where forums would be happening throughout the week. Our official role was to stand at the door, welcoming people in. That had been an utter bore last year so this time we planned to make it our own and roam around as much as possible, offering anyone and everyone help as they needed it.
Though the village was arranged a little differently, we found our spot easily enough. Inside we met two interns Michael and Alex and got to know them a little. It was clear nothing had been set up yet. Twenty minutes of sitting around and chatting and I got antsy, so Dan and I started laying down table cloths that had been staged on multiple tables.
I was happy we were looking busy when Greg, the media center manager, walked in. It was like we’d seen him only a week ago and he gave us a warm welcome. His main interest was training the new interns so we carried on with our tablecloths.
With that done, we moved some potted trees around to make them look better and wandered through the half-constructed village while we waited for our volunteer coordinator, Sandi, to meet us. The place was a hive of activity that had a last-minute feel about it. Most of the temporary structures had been up for weeks, but mulch needed to be laid down and fences erected and cars moved into place.
When Sandi found us, we had a fleeting meeting. We knew the ropes so we made it easy for her. The puff-down vests we were issued were a huge upgrade from last year and we donned our scarf/tie that was a slightly lighter shade of blue. When we got to the subject of our Sunday tickets, Sandi literally dangled them before us then took them back. We would need to surrender our Lot 11 parking pass on Saturday afternoon before we could get our tickets. I resisted the temptation to give Dan a sideways glance. We’d scammed the system last year peeling off the “Wed – Sat” sticker on our parking pass so that we could use it for show Sunday. Whether we’d been discovered or it was a general scam, the game was up.
It was great to see a lot of the people we’d got to know last year, namely the crew from Jumper Media. They were a young crew of videographers that flew drones and got around on 1-wheels, sometimes doing both at once. When they walked in the door, they erupted in big smiles, same as me. We hugged and I met the new members of the team, happy to hear that they now had a 1-wheel each, instead of having to share. Everyone was amped for the week to come.
We filled the rest of our morning trying to keep as busy as we could until our afternoon shift relief showed up. Gary and Emma were new to the game and had traveled from LA for the experience. You could sense their enthusiasm and sense of “not sure where we’re supposed to be” – they reminded us of us 12 months ago.
I decided I should be responsible for their induction and took them on a tour of the village, showing them the lay of the land, where they should park, where lunch was delivered and introducing them to the guys in the media center. We managed to find Sandi who, predictably, was busy, so I showed G&E a few more things before handing them off to Sandi for their official introduction.
That meant knock-off time for us so we drove the short way up the hill back to N&K’s place. Nick finished up a meeting then we got into the SVT and drove over to Carmel for the Little Car Show. I’d really enjoyed this last year, it being right up may alley (for obvious reasons) and it didn’t disappoint this year. The sun was out and we had a great wander up and down the Main Street.
Last year there had been only a couple of Minis but now they had their own section!
They all had their unique character, but I was happy to find a good old classic red and white, just like our family cars and it warmed my heart. I was so looking forward to Dan driving these things.
The place had a great atmosphere with a band playing at the center of it all and a guy in his 80s killing it on the dance floor. Right by that, there was a pair of doggies giving a little red car lots of character as they sat well-behaved in the back seat.
It took us about an hour to wander the whole lot and Nick had a meeting to get to so we drove on back to the house.
We didn’t want to interrupt N&K’s work so we made ourselves scarce. Since we had the bikes, we figured we should use them. We got changed and loaded the bikes onto the back of the SVT and drove off towards Fort Ord State Park. We were in high spirits playing racy music as I drove. It was car week!
At the park, I nabbed the only shaded spot in a fairly empty carpark and we soon rode off into the sand. The sun was warm and as we climbed, the sound of racing V8 engines grew louder and louder. We soon figured out we were climbing the hills next to Laguna Seca Raceway. Maybe we’d even get a view of the track if we rode far enough?
We enjoyed the trails but they weren’t anything epic. Thankfully the climbs were gradual and there were plenty of trees to provide a shaded rest spot. We stopped often and when the downhill sections came we made the most of them. At the end of our second downhill trail, Dan reported that he’d bottomed out his front fork a few times during the run. Something had gone wrong internally so that he could completely collapse the forks and we couldn’t pull them apart. There was air somewhere there shouldn’t be.
We carried on and Dan took it gently – there weren’t any crazy rocky sections we had to worry about. It was 5pm when we reached our farthest point and the repeated climbing, though gentle, had worn us out. I cut our planned loop short and we flew through a wide open dry meadow threaded with a winding length of single track.
We hooted and hollered as we got squirrels through sandy patches, going as fast as we dared through them. We had a cruise ride back along fire road to get to the car where we found a crowd! There wasn’t a car park to be had – the after work rush had appeared.
Dan drove us back to N&K’s and we caught up on the day’s activities, Nick keen to hear about our day at the village and Katy excited to forget about her tiresome day at work. Our hosts treated us to Raclette for dinner – a cook-it-yourself meal with grilled meat and veggies on a hot plate with grilled potato and cheese grilled underneath the plate in small paddles.
The Tour d’Elegance
The Tour d’Elegance, or simply “the tour” is the real kick-off to Car Week. 200-odd cars come from all over the world to be presented at the Concours, but unlike a lot of other car shows, this one has motion. Though not mandatory, the tour is encouraged for all entrants and nearly everyone takes part. The cars come together for the first time behind the Concours village, lining up on “the grid”, taking up the length of Portola Road. From there, they drive along the tourist- route of 17 Mile Drive, then on to Big Sur and back. It is a significant trot of around 60 miles which is a hell of a lot considering the caliber of these vehicles.
Nick hadn’t experienced the start of the tour before so he was enthusiastic. He fired up his 1967 silver frost Mustang fastback in the garage around 7:30am and once warmed up, we hopped in. It was our first ride in his pride and joy and despite having my knees on my chin in the back, it was a pleasure. Using our prestigious parking pass, we pulled up right at the village in Lot 11 and made our way through the quiet area to Portola Road which was a hive of activity.
On our way in, Gary and Emma yelled out as they were leaving the carpark. I’d told them yesterday that they shouldn’t miss the Tour and they’d taken my advice. Having seen the cars on the grid, they were off to find a viewing spot along one of the ocean roads. I was glad to see them making the most of their first Pebble Beach experience.
Everyone was already in place and as an added bonus, the sun was starting to come out through the morning fog. The atmosphere was excitable and the crowd full of enthusiasts, media, owners and the rich and famous.
Dan was the first to spot a familiar face, but wasn’t able to pick him, he grabbed my elbow and pointed out Jacky Ickx – a former F1 winner and Le Mans legend. I told Dan and Nick as much and we watched a while in awe. We were in the company of giants.
Oh, and the cars were beautiful. This was their debut and with the sun out, they shone. We moved slowly along the grid, bumping shoulders with the throng but without restriction. There were no ropes, no security, just a mingling crowd – you could poke your head into an open window or simply reach out and touch an immaculate fender – but nobody did. There was a common understanding that care should be taken.
As we rounded a bend on Portola Road, Dan and I got our first sense of just how small last year’s event had been. Nick confirmed that yes, last year was very toned down thanks to covid. What we were seeing now was the whole shebang. There was even a side road filled with more cars! We’d barely made it to the far end of Portola Road when we had to turn around and get back to the front for the 9am start.
Our volunteer shift started at 9am, but we’d learnt from last year that we didn’t need to take that too seriously. As we neared the front of the field, we saw two girls dressed in old school racing suits walking through the crowd holding up big “START YOUR ENGINES” signs and the entrants obliged. This has to be one of the most special moments of the week. Not only do you hear multiple engines running, you hear them fire up around the same time. It feels like the start of something big.
After a few minutes of warm up time, the cars started moving away in front of us. We didn’t try to move too close to the start/finish line as the crowd became too big, but we had a great view exactly where we were. Nick got Dave on a FaceTime call so he could experience it somewhat since he wouldn’t joining us until later in the week. The movement of such magnificent machinery, even at a slow merging speed, hit me right in the chest. The vibrations were powerful, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face and Dan couldn’t stop grabbing at me and pointing. Car week had started!
There would be three waves of starts, but it was already 9:20am so we had to report for duty and Nick had to get on down to Big Sur to watch them drive by as he had last year. We said a cheery goodbye and wish you were here to Dave and went our separate ways.
The sun stayed out all day and I was grateful for it. It was our first warm day volunteering and I was stoked to be outside. There was much less set-up activities today and we started to see a steady flow of people come through the village. We roamed heavily today, wandering through Retro Auto (the merchandise and vendor tent), checking in at Mercedes to make sure they were still serving free booze (yes they were) and even getting back to Portola Road to see the tour entrants returning after their drive. We lingered at the start/finish straight a good while watching the cars roll in, the owners absolutely jubilant that they’d made it without issue.
We laughed at the volunteer attempts at crowd control then returned to our posts and enjoyed our self-made role of directing the tour entrants to their white tablecloth luncheon at the Mercedes center. No big deal, we were just helping multi-millionaires find their way to their next event. I got a lot of comments about my accent, barely able to get through a “Hello Sir, can I help you find anything?” Before being asked, “Where you from?”. My new name even got me some attention. The Gooding Auctions, where nothing sells for less than a few million, were just across the road from the village and so I had some people assume I was a very important person. I lapped it up, obviously.
The sun and the flow of tour entrants made our shift go quickly. Nick returned from his Big Sur viewing around noon to pick Dan up. He had to return home on business for the afternoon so I was left alone for the last our of our shift. It wasn’t much fun without Dan. You absolutely needed a partner to banter and people-watch with so I’m glad I didn’t have to bear it for more than an hour. Nick was back in Lot 11 when my shift ended to take us both to the Mecum classic car auction. After a quick change of the clothes in the bathroom, we were off in the Mustang to the Hyatt just outside Pebble Beach.
Now having my first real Mustang experience sitting up front, Nick took a lot of pleasure in the drive and I was in heaven. I missed my classic car, it was so nice to be chaperoned in a car of a similar era. That day, wherever we parked, Nick received an admirable comment on the car, each of which he accepted graciously. The Mustang is the people’s car of America and Nick was an exceptional example of one.
As we were directed to the auction entrance, we were both taken aback at the size and layout of the event. Mecum televise their auctions and so we expected to see the large building with a car lot either side, but this was a full on car show! More than one fairway of the Del Monte golf course was covered with cars and every single one was for sale! I couldn’t stop pointing as we drove along the golf course to our designated parking space.
It was 2pm when we entered the gates and Nick presented our pre-purchased $20 tickets. I asked a lady how long the auction would last that day and she advised it could end as soon as 3pm. Armed with that knowledge, we minimized our dawdling through the first section of cars and made our way to the auction house – a huge temporary structure with one side completely open where an entry and exit ramp were staged. We passed a long line of vehicles staged to enter the tent, waiting to find out their future.
Inside the tent, the decor was dark, with automotive-themed neon signs hung from the ceiling. They’d created an effective atmosphere that I’m sure was curated to make people want to buy stuff! We walked right across the runway, wondering if we were allowed to be there but no one stopped us. We sat down in the non-bidding seats, keeping our hands cautiously below our elbows just to be safe. Whenever we raised our phones to take a photo, we did so slowly so as not to draw unwanted attention from the auctioneer or his crew.
The auctioneer’s voice commanded the room as cars were rolled to and from the selling position. Everything happened so fast and the auction crew moved like a well-oiled machine. This was only the warm-up so there weren’t any big ticket items and many of the cars we saw were passed in, but the auctioneer did well to drum up enthusiasm.
We meandered along the seats until we found our way to the other side of the tent. Nick migrated naturally towards a Mustang and I checked out the merchandise. At this end of the tent was the passed-in desk where bidders could place a bid on cars that had not met their reserve. We watched a few more cars meet their destiny and roll back out onto the green then followed them out into the sun.
After wandering through the field a while, Nick suggested a cocktail and we were soon enjoying a pair of delicious Margaritas as we strolled through the concept car tent. It was strange to think of the La Ferraris there as being familiar as I remembered seeing one when it was first released at Albert Park years ago. We started bantering with Dave over text about now, him sure that the Mecum auctions didn’t start until Friday. It only took one shot of me standing by a concept car to convince him the party had already started.
In this tent, I marveled at “Elva”, one of McLaren’s latest super cars that had paint that looked a different color each way you looked. It was a picture of performance, exactly what a race car should look like, and the paint made it pop. In the same room was an original Cobra that, with its external rivets around the bonnet, was my pick of the classics. Of course it was for sale with no estimate given, it was a rare find that would surely be saved for Sunday.
Outside again, we wandered through the fields of cars seeking new owners and really saw everything under the sun. I learnt about the Fiat Jolly – a Fiat 500 based car with no doors, a golf cart roof and wicker chairs for seats. What little beauties they were!
We felt as though we were in a graveyard as we walked through the section where cars that had been passed in where staged. These were the rejects, they hadn’t managed to inspire anyone to raise their hand.
The auction was well finished by the time we walked back to the entrance and we could see the line of cars leading into the tent, ready for tomorrow’s action. They didn’t waste a minute here at Mecum, it was a logistical masterpiece the way they moved the cars around the fields.
We took a slightly scenic route back to Nick’s place and swapped the sun for cooling fog. Katy was still finished up her work so we had a couple of hours to kill before dinner. When Nick suggested doing a bit of work on the door handles of the Mustang, I agreed to be helper as long as I could sit down. Only two days of being on my feet all day and I was already buggered.
I held the driver’s door open like a champion while Nick removed interior trim to get at his door handle and lock. One of those tiny little plastic things inside the door lock mechanism had broke and so the passenger door had been his only way in for a few days. It took a couple of hours, but Nick used his deft fingers to remove the door handle, install his original handle and fix the lock. It was a pleasure to watch Nick work with his Mustang, even on something so small as his door lock. While the owner before him had done a lot of work restoring the car, Nick didn’t agree with a lot of it, changing things here and there to make her more original, but upgrading the mechanicals for a better drive. Not only that, he and Katy had created a beautiful workspace with a full suite of tools at arms reach.
When Katy knocked off, we retreated inside and hung out in the kitchen preparing dinner, waiting for Dan’s return. He showed up right on time and we lazed in the living room to enjoy our salad. We stayed up chatting a while then had a pretty early night.
RetroAuto Village
It almost felt like routine now, getting up and dressed then driving off to “work”. Dan had a bit of a fight with the teenage car parking attendants that morning, our Lot 11 pass no longer holding any weight. We were directed to Lot 12 which was not a problem since it was free to anyone until Sunday.
Today was exciting because we had our first Classic Car Forums. These were events mostly intended for media where panelists would sit on stage with a moderator and discuss the relevant topic. Again making our own work, we opted to stand at the door and inform passers-by of the forums for the day. When the forums were in session, we quietly let people in and out, probably holding the door open for millions and millions of dollars in net worth.
At 9am, Jacky Ickx took the stage with three other Le Mans legends to talk about the great race and celebrate its 100 years. The dynamic between the panelists and moderator was cozy, they obviously all knew each other very well and I felt, standing just inside the door, that I was listening in to a unique conversation. Jacky commanded the stage, speaking slowly and candidly of his experiences not only in motorsport, but in life. He ended by emphasizing the importance to keep striving for greatness, referencing Alex Honnold and his historic free solo climb up El Capitan. He couldn’t recall Alex’s name and I was almost compelled to shout it out for him but I resisted the temptation. I knew what he was talking about but I’m sure no one else knew what he was on about.
It was a cool day so we tried to spend most of it just inside the Forum doors. The next forum was focused on the art of restoration. I was outside for a lot of this one to prevent too many people from opening the door and poking their heads in, but from the few snippets I heard, they weren’t talking about the type of restorations Dad and I are used to. They talked about the importance of restoring classic cars to their original imperfection. It’s important that if the door gaps weren’t symmetrical on the original build, that they be that way in the restored version.
We wandered the paddock the rest of the day once the morning forums were over. It felt as if the crowd was trying to build but the event still hadn’t started yet. Once our shift and lunch was over, we returned to the car to change, then met up with our new friends Suzanne and Steve. They were with the Porsche crew and it was their official job to wander the paddock as information providers. It was their maiden year and we’d become fast friends when I’d told Suzanne about the free stuff on offer at the Lincoln tent. We’d also told them about the free booze at Mercedes so that’s where we met them.
We joined them at a high table outside after getting our drinks and got to know the couple more. They were loving their first Concours and were determined to return. They told us their story and we were halfway through telling them ours when Nick, Katy, Andrea and Dave showed up. They’d all come down to experience the village and have drinks at Mercedes. We grabbed chairs, the boys grabbed drinks for them and their ladies and we socialized.
Dave and Nick didn’t last much longer than a sip, they were itching to go look at cars. Before I knew it, I was looking over Steve’s shoulder at Dave on his knees looking under the beige Mercedes luxury off-road prototype. Classic Dave.
After a few drinks we split off from Suzanne and Steve and wandered the village with our crew. We’d obviously seen it all, but we were happy to see it as plain-clothed tourists. As the others perused the merchandise tent, we chatted to art vendors we’d met last year, Luann and Bill Pack of v12 Enterprises. A very down to earth couple, he the artist, she the organizer, communications manager. When we’d met last year, they were perpetual travelers, not having a home base and Air BnB’ing through life. Luann told me of their plans to settle down in Scottsdale Arizona! We got their card then because we told them how often we were there. Before our friends pulled us away, Bill showed me a preview of this latest book celebrating Indianapolis. Here was a man that had such talent with digital art and also a passion for motorcars.
We wandered through the village some more until it was time to cruise back up the hill. The girls were ready to drink champagne and start their weekend. Somehow Dave, Dan and I ended up in the garage as soon as we got home and then a few beers were cracked and we were swapping car stories.
It was our turn to cook then and so I got to work in the kitchen with the girls as the boys got to work outside on the grille. We had a delicious dinner around the fire pit and we didn’t need Cards Against Humanity to have a few laughs. Dave especially was in good spirits, he was stoked that Car Week had finally started for him.
Concours d’Residance
Our last shift couldn’t go quickly enough. I had some entertainment in the morning talking to multi-millionaires (probably billionaires) James Glickenhaus and Lukas Czinger. They were prototype car makers, striving for real vehicle production I couldn’t guess, but they were boys who had toys. I felt like the mere commoner I am directing them to the bathrooms and their plush waiting room.
If it had been cool yesterday, it was properly cold today. Proper Pebble Beach stuff, with a constant rolling fog and icy cold wind. There were no crowds, not even up at Mercedes. The village was dead, the poor promotional staff at the Lincoln tent were wearing blankets over their shoulders.
I had a bit of a texting match with Sandi, our volunteer leader, to make sure we got our tickets. They were eventually handed over to us by one of the media interns and I dutifully surrendered our parking pass (not that it did us much good anyway).
When our shift buddies showed up, we couldn’t leave fast enough. We had a track to get to! We drove straight over to Laguna Seca, scanned in with our tickets and found a spot in the dusty dirt lot and changed into more comfortable attire. We could hear the roar of engines as we topped the hill and made our way down to the familiar track. We’d brought our lunch with us, not wanting to waste time having it at the Village. We set ourselves up in a grandstand on the start/finish straight that gave us a great view of the pits as well as a lot of the race track.
Over lunch, we watched historic Le Mans cars go for a tour around the track. They were from all vintages and histories, one of them looking a lot like a fiberglass boat! It’s hard to imagine these things getting to the shops and back, let alone doing 24 hours of Le Mans.
We were texting Nick and Dave, to meet up with them and for the next couple of hours, we would be about 50 steps behind them. We weren’t in a rush to catch up, Laguna Seca is one of those venues that is just so accessible. You can walk right into the paddock, right up to the cars as they go out and come back in from the track.
We ambled through the Le Mans tent, me reading a lot of the signage for some of the cars that were still out on track. For one of them, the “highlight” was DNF’ing one year….? At the end of the tent, I noticed a few people around a stand that were handing out posters. Always a stickler for free stuff, I wandered over and waited patiently as the man who’d created the artwork for the poster personally signed each one. When I met him, he asked my name, to which I replied “Mrs. Gooding”. He liked that and wrote “To the lovely and charming Mrs. Gooding…” What a romantic, I walked away a happy girl with my poster.
We heard the roar of engines then and made or way quickly to the pit exit. We were almost blown away by the modern-ish endurance cars as they sped up the small hill and onto the track, their exhaust pointed directly at us. Dan, standing behind me, held on tight as if we might be pushed over. These machines were feet away from us!
Back through the paddock now and I scored another freebie. People were lined up to get a poster signed by various drivers. Since I wasn’t looking for a signature, I thought it acceptable to take a couple of posters off the table as we swooped by. As we crossed into the middle of the circuit, I was in a shopping mood. After we toured through the Bring-A-Trailer corral, we were in the merchandise tents, specifically the bargain bin. I scored a few t-shirts for friends then Dan pulled me away and over the next foot bridge to finally meet Nick and Dave.
They caught us up on their day so far over the racing and Dave informed me that he believed there was a Mini class coming up. He wasn’t wrong! After the endurance cars, the track was lit up by a field of Minis and Ford Escorts. What a bonus! It had been years since I’d seen more than one mini at a time! It got Dan suitably excited too, he knows how much these cars mean to me.
The next race was for Nick and Dave. I’m not sure of the official name of the category, but it was the American muscle cars – Mustangs, Camaros, Chargers. These guys had noise and character. The guy driving the black and gold Mustang refused to drive through Turn 3 without getting a little bit sideways. It was great racing and the V8 symphony was music to our ears – though Nick and Dave gave us shit for putting our fingers in them.
With that race over, we started making our way back to the carpark, but we had to meander through the paddock one more time to get there! Still on my merchandise trip, I bought myself a t-shirt at the official store. We watched the history F1 cars race through Turn 2 for a bit before heading our properly. We had a prestigious event to get to!
I won the race home in the SVT, pulling up to the black house miles ahead of the boys. Katy and Andrea were already at the Concours d’Residance. This was an inaugural event put on by a Pebble Beach local who also put on a regular Coffee and Cars for the residents. We drove over with Nick in the Mustang and when we pulled into the large picnic area in the moss-covered forest, he bossed it parking front and center.
It was a beautiful setting with a large fire pit surrounded by a dozen picnic tables, all of them occupied with locals enjoying a bite to eat from the pizza oven vendor parked up in the corner. We found Katy and Andrea sitting at a table with another couple and I soon met Harrison and Holly. They were relatively new to Pebble Beach, having moved into a fixer-upper a few houses away from Nick and Katy. I loved hearing their story, a Silicon Valley couple that had realized a dream to live in a patch of paradise away from the chaos. Dan delivered me a slice of pizza and a beer, joining us at the picnic table.
Just before sunset, Katy proposed a tour to their famous “bench”. She led the way down a forested path with me, Dan, Harrison and Holly in tow. With the tree moss swaying gently in the breeze and the soft narrow path, we could have been in fantasy world. After a few hundred meters, we were suddenly out of the forest and looking at waves crashing. Here was the bench! Harrison and Holly were suitably impressed, knowing this would become a regular spot for them as it was for Katy and Nick. Katy pointed out all the important landmarks, including the back-up bench should this one be occupied (it never was), the gingerbread house up the hill and their favourite lunch spots down at the coast. This really was their home and they’d made it so.
Back at the party, Dan and I wandered over to look at the cars that had showed up. It wasn’t long before we got talking to a few guys standing by their cars. One had a custom built hot rod that we soon learnt was one of many projects he had on the go. Another guy owned a hotel in Pebble and had brought one of Bill Murray’s cars. He had an interesting story, having grown up in the area working at his Dad’s gas station, he’d decided early on that he wanted more and started working at a hotel as the front desk man, working his way up to manager then becoming an owner. His good friend had bought this random old hearse car for BIll Murray and after one of Bill’s visits, he asked the hotel owner to look after it for him until he came back.
Another guy told us about his experience buying a Mustang at the Mecum auctions during last year’s Concours. Nick and I were especially interested in how that worked from a buyer’s perspective. He said it was seamless. After making the winning bid, he’d gone to the “front office” then driven the car home not much later. I found it humbling to know that everyone around us was fairly genuine and down to earth despite their wealth and when it came to cars, it didn’t matter who you were, as long as you were a fan.
With night falling, the party started to dwindle down and we had an early start in the morning. Dan and I hopped in the back of the Camaro with the girls while the boys took the Mustang on a little cruise around Pebble. After a night cap back at the house, we set our alarms ready for the big day.
Concours d’Elegance
Dawn Patrol. Nick and Dave hadn’t yet attended but after our experience of it last year, they were determined not to miss it. It was Nick and Dave’s day to volunteer so they were dressed in their fine blue blazers, ties and hats looking every bit the part.
Dan and I however, were dressed as warmly as we could be knowing what weather likely lay ahead. Katy, the legend that she is, had gotten up with us at 5:30am to drive us down to the green. Like a boss, when we reached a volunteer-manned barricade across the road, she just wound her window down and stated she was dropping off volunteers and was waved straight through.
We got out at the Mercedes-end of the village and began our walk down in the dim light of morning to the 18th hole. Dan and I were the tour leaders now, walking around the concept lawn and through the entrance gates behind the lodge. As we walked past the ramp and onto the green, we saw a big mass of people and I saw a LOT of hats. We were late. Dave needed the bathroom so he peeled off as Dan, Nick and I approached the crowd. Nick looked to me for guidance and I led the way mingling into the crowd. It didn’t take me long to find a huddle of Haggarty people, one of which was clutching a bag close to her. I saw her produce a hat from that bag and give it to someone. I wandered up and, just as I had last year, asked very politely if I may have a hat. She obliged, I thanked her and backed away. Nick shortly followed. When I saw him ask for a second hat for his friend, I think I instinctively shook my head. He was denied the second hat. He said immediately that he’d give his hat up for Dave, but I sent Dan in. With his watermelon head, Dan was never interested in hat swag, but he did it for Dave. As he walked away from our lady, he heard her say to her colleague, “This is the last one, do you want to give it away?” We’d got in by a hair!
The black cap with its white stitching was an upgrade on last year’s edition and when Dave rejoined us, he was properly chuffed. Soon enough, the cars were rolling onto our field so we put away our swag (I put mine on my head). We stood near the concessions tent as dim headlights came towards us, shining through the fog. This was such a special time of the Concours.
We were stoked to see the trike we’d noticed on the tour grid “ride” onto the green, deftly pedalled by its mechanic.
Nick and Dave stayed for about an hour before they had to go and check in for volunteering. That only took 10 minutes then they were back on the field with us. We wandered the green, seeing it fill up quickly with the rarities that make up the Concours. At the end of the fairway, we paused a while to watch how the volunteers managed directing each car to its spot. It was a well-oiled machine and of course it had to be. They staged nearly 300 cars it the space of 2 hours, all angled perfectly in their neat rows.
At the very far end of the field, there was a Hot Rod display and the alternative propulsion class cars. Dan and I lingered here a while, there were two mechanics working frantically on a huge boiler at the front of a steam car. Of course, as a part of the judging process, you are expected to run your vehicle’s engine and so it was imperative that they get it running quick smart!
Dave and Nick had left us again, off to start their shift proper. The rest of day was a mix of wandering and sitting. The field felt familiar, but there were new elements with the McLaren hospitality unit near the Hot Rods and the Le Mans endurance cars lined up in front of the ocean.
After our first tour of the green we took our seats by the awards ramp, taking up our spot from last year on the far side of the roadway so we’d have a view of the ramp and of the awarded cars coming right by us. Across the way was the Porsche club and we knew many of their faces as volunteers from the village. When one couple stopped by to say hi, they mentioned that they’d been over to the concept green and we realized we’d never visited that part of the Concours last year. Off we went.
The concept green is a completely different vibe to the Concours field. This is the newest of the new, not just from major manufacturers but weirdo prototypes from those guys we heard from at the forum. Most of them looked out of place in the faded morning light, they’d have looked more at home in a dark room to highlight their light displays.
Further along was the Ferrari lawn and there must have been 100 cars out there, right by the massive Ferrari hospitality area.
There were many poshos enjoying a fancy breakfast by a gas fire as we perused the eras of Enzo. They even had a couple of Formula 1 cars – shame about their current championship endeavor.
It was about 11am now and still properly cold. The shirt I’d bought at the merchandise tent was wrapped around my head to keep my ears warm.
We thought it a good idea to head for the volunteer’s tent to warm up a bit and maybe see if we could get a bite to eat. We were successful in both. They were just clearing away breakfast when we got there so we nabbed a couple of egg and sausage sandwiches and Dan got himself a coffee. I took a cup of hot water just to keep my hands warm.
We hadn’t been sitting long when we realized the hot rod guy from last night’s Concours d’Residance was sitting at the table next to us. He accused us of showing up everywhere as we did him. Lunch showed up then which was extremely convenient, we handed over our vouchers, packed our picnic, tied our t-shirts tight around our necks and went back out into the cold.
After having lunch in our chairs, we walked the green one last time, taking it very slow so that we didn’t spend too much time sitting without entertainment back at the ramp. I used the cars guide a lot, reading out the blurbs for the cars that interested us. Each car had such a unique story that went something like, “200 of these prototypes were made in 19xx, 180 of which were destroyed by the manufacturer, 15 were converted to something else, 4 originals have been lost and only this one remains – and it was found in a barn in the south of France…”
I was happy to find my favourite car, the beautiful light blue Alfa Romeo that was just begging to be taken for a Sunday picnic. Amazing to get so close to it!
Back at the ramp, the stream of people pouring onto the field became our entertainment. The party was really starting now. We set up a windbreak with our Thai mat, a necessary defense against the cold and I borrowed Dan’s shoulder for an opportunistic nap. I was woken up by the presenter – the awards ceremony was starting.
Now I really used the cars guide. The speakers near us weren’t working so we could barely hear the presenter as vehicles were announced as 3rd, 2nd and best in their class, each driving over the ramp to collect their prize. As each car drove past us, I would reference the ID plate and read the blurb. When the speakers turned on halfway through the ceremony, we discovered that the presenter was skillfully ad-libbing from the cars guide – I could have had his job!
50 cars must have driven over the ramp, celebrating their wins on the drive back to the field. This was clearly a big highlight for many car owners and their families. Tension built during the lull when Best in Show was being decided by the judges – a half hour break that was filled with some raffle car giveaways.
The confetti moment came up very quickly. The top four vehicles were announced and lined up before the ramp and with everything but a drum roll, the envelope was opened by the presenter. The winning car, nicknamed “vents” by us, was a 1932 Duesenberg J Figoni Sports Torpedo, but we didn’t know it at the time of the confetti blast. All we could see was a sea of phones and cameras held above people’s heads. When bodies finally parted a little and I saw the curved vents on the side of the engine cowls. It was a thing of beauty.
The car-shaped confetti fell all around us and before it had all settled onto the ground, Concours cars were leaving the field. If it had been a long day for spectators like us, some of the owners had obviously had their fill. The crowd was thin along that last piece of grass where the cars exited the golf course and so I stood front and center.
I was almost emotional as I waved to each driver, most of them waving back. To some, I yelled out, “Thank you!” How amazing for all of these incredibly rare cars to be in one place having come from all over the world. I was genuinely grateful to have been a part of it.
Looking back at the ramp where the Best in Show still stood proudly, we could see Dave and Nick enjoying a sit down in the chairs at the front of the lodge. We went over to join them and Dave, with a full pint in his hand, looked utterly exhausted. His tie was already off and he was happy to be off his feet. The poor bugger hadn’t even had any lunch because they’d run out by the time he got there.
We were kicked out all too soon and so we took another tour of the field. So many cars had left already and the packing up was happening fast. We swapped stories about our day and I told Nick we had a new challenge. I’d seen only a handful of bright orange McLaren hats that looked standard issue, except that they had “DAWN PATROL” stitching on their side. That would be a wonderful prize. At the McLaren tent (that was being broken down), we asked about them and were told the hats were part of a very exclusive package that the recipients received even if they didn’t show up for the dawn patrol. Disappointing. She was handing out biscuits though which was nice.
As we crossed the near-empty alternative propulsion area, we saw the guy with the trike as he prepared for launch. A few people gathered around us, keen to see this weird contraption get going up close. When the guy looked around, he and Dave had the same idea at once – would he like a push? Very much so, yes. Dan and Dave got straight into it, pushing the back of a 110-year old trike as the mechanic pedaled it. They got him to the tarmac and the trike eventually outran the men. What an experience for them to have!
Heading back on the lawn, I saw my favorite car, the Alfa Romeo, sitting almost forgotten by itself on the fairway. The owner soon approached it and we could see the dejection in his face and body language. I couldn’t believe that it hadn’t taken a tour on the ramp, not even for one of the elegance awards. The owner obviously felt the same. There was another man next to him, either a judge or volunteer that new something about the judging. I overheard a bit of their conversation and the man pointed at the small fan belt in the engine bay, mentioning that the judges hadn’t liked that. I could see the printed BOSCH label and part number and I guessed that looked too new for their liking. Was he expected to rub the labelling off? That’s how serious this show was.
There were barely any cars on the green as we wandered back. As we walked by the emptying merchandise tent, we heard sudden cries of “No! No! Get off there! Don’t do that!” When we whipped around to see what the commotion was about, we saw two little girls, maybe 6 and 8 years old, climbing down from an open-carriage style car. They obviously thought, they’d have a play in it – this ancient beauty. The parents had been walking nearby and kept their pace as they let their girls catch up, not looking back. I wouldn’t have either. A field volunteer put on his best grimace as he gave the vehicle a good once over, determining that no harm had been put to the car.
Back near the 18th hole, the Best in Show car had been parked up for its obligatory ocean view shots. Nick was off like a rocket to get a photo. There must have been a crowd of thirty or so photographers around the car and a man directing the driver as to how to park it. She really was a beauty.
That was about it for us, everyone was tired and thirsty so we made our way up the hill and to the Hay Restaurant. We had a dinner reservation for 7, so we were early, but thankfully there were a couple of chairs at the bar. Nick and Dave took the seats having been on their feet all day and we thoroughly enjoyed a beer as we waited for the girls to join us. The place was lively and I expected the party to go on all night but it was the opposite. By the time we sat down at our table, the place had pretty much cleared out. Everyone was keen to get home I suppose.
We enjoyed a lovely meal in good company in front of the gas fire but us volunteers were happy to get back to Nick and Katy’s house for a quiet debrief. We’d all had a marvelous week and we couldn’t believe it was over already. Nick had told me that one of the reasons they’d bought their house down in Pebble Beach was for this week, to spend the week with friends celebrating the automobile. I feel we did that in style – our style.
Dave and Andrea left us that night and we retreated to bed soon after they left. We would be off early in the morning and so said our goodbyes to our wonderful hosts, so grateful to them for giving us the ultimate Car Week experience. What amazing, generous and passionate people, I’m so glad to call them our friends. As Nick says, it’s the most wonderful time of the year.
8/17 – 8/20/2022