PEBBLE BEACH 2010: UNRESTORED MACHINES (PART 1 of 2)

It took the Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance only 59 years to allow motorcycles onto their hallowed greens by Monterey Bay, and coincidentally onto 17 Mile Drive, which is the only access into this gated community.  Previous to last year, attempted entry onto the Drive would have seen you riding back whence you came, as it will today if you approach the guard kiosk, after the parties are over and the temporary motorcycle welcome has worn off.  Don't get Notions just because 27 amazing motorcycles were tucked onto a patch of unmowed grass (the 'rough' - and aren't we just) during the Concours; there are still drinking fountains marked 'biker' at the PB Lodge.

Pebble has chosen a strict thematic presentation for their motorcycle Concours, and this year all entries were US-made and pre-1941.  The number of machines increased 50% over 2009's 'British' display, with a good balance between restored machines, unrestored survivors, plus a few troubling 'restored-to-look-unrestored' bikes.  All hinted at the abundant variety available to an interested customer in the 'Teens and Twenties especially; singles, twins, fours, overhead-valve, sidevalve, F-head, direct drive, belt-drive, two-speed, three-speed.

Of the Unrestored category, most were racers not roadsters, each with a 'wow' factor for different reasons.  Vince Martinico brought his 1908 Indian 'Torpedo Tank', last seen winning Best in Show at the Legend of the Motorcycle Concours; a small miracle of a machine from the advent of that famous company, Vince brought a few photos along to document who raced the bike (Paul Derkum), and pedalled into chuffing life several times during the day.

The little v-twin engine has atmospheric inlet valves (no direct cam operation, opened by piston suction), and the whole machine is still very much a bicycle with a motor stuffed inside...amazing to think that 3 years later, Indian would begin developing their 8-Valve racers, shortly to exceed 100mph!  This little bike simply oozes character.

Dale Walksler of the Wheels Through Time Museum brought this 1929 Harley-Davidson DAR track racer, with four-valve cylinder heads, and four exhaust pipes giving the raciest look of all.  It's a '45' (750cc), and extremely rare as most ohv H-D racers were built for Hillclimbs at that time.  Clearly meant for flat-out speed , this DAR is really the business.   Dale found the intact rolling chassis in the estate/barn of a former Harley dealer, and the proper engine just a few days later.  He is convinced the engine is the Actual original from this chassis, as it fits perfectly with all the oil fittings and chassis brackets - and given HD only made a few of ohv racers of this type, he's probably right.

The DAR bears scrutiny - it's a masterpiece of racing engineering from the 20's; brutal, antiquated, and fast as hell.  To compare this machine, with no gearbox or brakes, with other racers of the day (check this '26 Indian ohv road racer, or any road racer from England or Italy from the late 20s), highlights the unique character of US motorcycle racing pre-WW2, when it was all about dirt or board tracks, or hillclimbs, which evolved quirky machines so specialized as to be useless in any other context, and bearing zero technical similarity to the products in the showroom.  The American equivalent of a GP racer.

Note the hand-hewn racing Schebler carburetor, with extra air intakes - a full separate bellmouth brazed onto the carb body, plus a hole in the mixing chamber, both controlled by the rider at speed via sliding covers - I've never seen a carb quite like it.  More air!

Also interesting - the bike retains bicycle pedals, but these are appendages left from an earlier age, as pedal-starting such a beast would be impossible.  Perhaps racing veterans felt comfortable with hinged footrests?  The oiling system is unique, with two oil tanks inside the left pannier, one feeding the throttle-controlled oil pump, the other oiling the chains.  A hand-pump gave a shot direct to the drive side main bearing; all the oil eventually went back the dirt, not to the oil tanks.

As all machines at Pebble are expected to run (and ride onto the podium in case of a prize award), starting this Harley presented a challenge, solved via the largesse of Bryan Bossier, who allowed his 'Big Tank' Crocker to be used as a starting mule, the two machines backed into each other and making an unforgettable racket as the HD came to smoky life.   It was quite a scene, worth the price of admission - definitely the most expensive set of starter rollers Ever. (photo courtesy Bob Stokstad)

Larry Feece brought his 'barn find' racing team of four Indian Scouts (750cc), '37-'41 models, owned and modified by Buck Rogers, an engineer at Studebaker cars.  Rogers began with one Sport Scout (1937), had it tuned by Art Hafer, then purchased three more over time to support young racers with a bike and some gas money.  He ran his privateer team for five years, then parked the bikes in 1955, where Feece found them in as-last-raced condition decades later.  Larry has wisely kept them strictly as found during his tenure, whilst the collecting world catches up to the idea that untouched machines are simply irreplaceable, and our true historical treasures.

Two unrestored/original Harleys were remarkable historical references, and likely the best century-old (or nearly so) HDs around, both resplendent in subdued grey paint, with oxidation appropriate to their age.  This 1915 '11F' twin sold at the Las Vegas MidAmerica auction in 2009, and gives an idea of the fine quality pinstriping emerging in Milwaukee during the 'Teens.  A very appealing motorcycle (and having ridden a '15 HD just like this, I can attest they go surprisingly well too, with decent handling).

Even more subdued is this ex-La Grange Police Department 1909 HD single, the 'Silent Grey Fellow', very quiet indeed with no whining gearbox or thrashing chains, just that big flat leather belt going around with a quiet 'tic' every time the riveted joint goes over the engine pulley.  This is another amazingly well preserved motorcycle, the sort of bike which might have been restored 20 years ago, but thankfully wasn't.

This 1913 Flying Merkel is mostly an original paint machine, although owner Mike Madden admits to 'sprucing-down' the primary chain cover, as the original was missing and a new one fabricated.  He didn't try too hard to mimic the original paint, so the replacement is clear but doesn't glare.  The Merkel was quite a sophisticated motorcycle, with monoshock rear suspension and an oil-in-frame chassis; features which would be loudly advertised again in the 1980s!  The front fork are rigid though...

Last up on our tour is this faux-original 1916 Excelsior Board Track racer, which has an impressively applied patina.  It took real skill to develop the 6 or 7 layers of paint, varnish, stains, and chips to achieve such visual depth and amber/oily coloration on various new components.  Someday, though, when the paintwork has actually oxidized, it may be difficult to tell this machine from an original/unrestored bike, and then the trouble begins.

PEBBLE BEACH WEEK 2010: JET CENTER PARTY

The week of pure mechanical excess which possesses the Monterey peninsula in mid-August begins with the hardest of the core, those who risk their megamilliondollar cars at Laguna Seca during the Monterey Historic Races. This year one could watch 27 Bugattis in various states from gleaming perfection to 'old paint', hammering around a really beautiful and challenging track, really going at it and ensuring that skilled fabricators will remain in demand to replace all the bits which break.
But I wasn't there; I prefer the parties with Motorcyles.

Which begin on Wednesday night, at Gordon McCall's Motorworks Revival party, held at the Monterey Jet Center.  Considered by many to be the swankest gearhead party in the States, Revival certainly has the best props - the Jet Center becomes a parking lot for all the 'personal jet' makers to show their wares, plus a bunch of interesting older biplanes and fixed-wings, and of course, with a little military hardware to remind us all who defends our right to burn oil.  Thus, an F16 sat front and center, surrounded by various iterations of Shelby Mustangs, as Carrol Shelby himself was to be the honored guest at the Quail Motorsports Gathering on Friday.

The Revival is a study in transforming a patch of tarmac and a hangar into a champagne-and-diamonds party, and the mix is at once surreal and exhilarating.  Approaching the venue is strictly no-frills; parking is limited, and if you don't make it to the available lot early (as I didn't), there's no sidewalk or even pedestrian space on your hike to the Jet Center - as my party mate Richard Gauntlett noted, 'it's unlikely one walks to one's jet'.  Too true.  The entrance tent was graced by black chandeliers, red carpet, and three motorcycles on plinths, all Gordon's machines (Dunstall Atlas, Bultaco Metralla, and BMW R60/2), and special kudos to him for placing two-wheelers front and center, they looked terrific.

Each jet builder laid on a lounge with groovy furniture, champagne, hot rented femmes, and a chance to sit (and drink) inside their wares.  While many of the assembled were Actually shopping for their next plane, punters like me sat bemused with our free drink, while considering my recent trans-Atlantic hop in cattle class...

Walking through the fairly vast party area (bordered by wingtip-to-wingtip jets) meant slaloming between cars to be shown at the Quail, kiosks of ridiculously good food (sushi, Hawaiian barbecue, grilled steaks, etc) and small bars offering anything you'd like, sir or madam.  The motorcycles held their ground inside the hangar, with a duo of Falcons (Kestrel and Bullet), a Moto Guzzi Falcone Sport, a flat-track inspired new Triumph, and a pair of tricked-out modern BMW and Ducati racers.  The Falcons looked especially good beside a blue Maserati A6G/3000 replica and a phalanx of Bentleys.

When asked about my favorite plane of the evening,  I had to admit the Navy helicopter (complete with female crew) in discreet grey-on-grey finish looked very impressive amidst the ultra-slick new minijets.  Fave car was the 'Alligator', a fiberglass horror in original condition, looking filthy and also providing a serious contrast to Louboutin heels, Dior satin dresses, and Brioni suits.

The highlight of my evening was riding the Kestrel through the crowd of swells (with Ian Barry on the Bullet), noisily blatting out the hangar and onto the red carpet to all smiles, and darting under a jet wing at speed to make my exit.  More fun, in fact, than riding it on the world's most expensive golf course...

PEBBLE BEACH; PURE EXCESS!

And here is what happens after four days of schmoozing around Pebble Beach during Motor Week; two new Bugattis drove past me during the wee dawn hours; I couldn't be bothered to twist my neck for a gander. Just another pair of megabucks four wheel toys, in an actual sea of new Ferraris, Spykers, Teslas, Lamborghinis, etc, etc. Plus all the older cars driving around, gradually becoming a blur of polished, colorful excess.

Still, my highlight of the week had arrived at last - motorcycles being ridden onto the golf course at Pebble Beach Lodge. The enormity of the moment is hard to convey - motorcycles aren't even allowed past the guard boxes at Pebble normally, and even on the morning of the Concours I asked a sentry if bikes would be allowed on 17-Mile Drive, and was told no! It turned out she was wrong, but that's the mindset among the staff.

Notes on How to Do Pebble; 1. Arrive Really Early. That's the secret - get there as early as you can if you have any intention of a clear view or photograph of the two-wheelers present. Unlike the Quail, there seems to be no limit on ticket sales for Pebble, and the punters arrived in a steady stream until about 1pm, when the flow in stopped, and the egress began in earnest. Non-PB residents must park in nearby Pacific Grove and take a shuttle to the Concours; as luck would have it, the shuttles deposited their cargo almost directly before the MidAmerica tent. The flow of humanity taking a gander at the 80 bikes was impressive. And let's face it - most 'car guys' are simply gearheads, and motorcycles fascinate them too. But perhaps less so their wives - it's a terrible cliché, but I heard a familiar refrain all weekend; 'they're too dangerous', says wife to ready-to-part-with-cash husband. Another deal scotched.

Sales were difficult inside the Online Auction tent, and while dozens of potential buyers gave serious thought to buying a bike, in most cases it was simply impossible to tip them over the abyss into Need. Perhaps a few drinks with friends inside the tent would have loosened their wallets; I heard no discussion about 'affordability' among the Car People, but the Motorcyclists certainly thought about prices. It's all a learning experience for MidAmerica; hopefully they'll do it again next year, but better.

The Lawn Display in the early, grey hours of morning was calm, and I managed a few good shots of some very special cars and bikes. And didn't the motorcycles look good on the grass? The judging team comprised several 'Car Guys' who happen to love bikes, plus Don Danmeier, founder of the All-British Ride and Clubman's Show, who happens to Know bikes, if you catch my drift. And I will probably scotch my chances of wearing the Blue Judge's Blazer by stating flat out, "there is a world of difference between love for, and expertise in, Motorcycling. And it only really matters when you're judging a Concours, or buying a very expensive bike". Ed Gilberson, chief judge at Pebble, told me a few weeks prior that he wanted to keep his judging staff 'in house' - ie, his usual team for judging the cars, selected for those who owned or had owned motorcycles.

In the end, some beautiful bikes won prizes along with the most beautiful autos on the planet, nobody got hurt, hordes of Bikers didn't descend to rape and pillage, and the whole scene seemed entirely natural...as in, why in the world did it take Pebble so long?

And, if you tried to ride your bike down 17-Mile Drive on Monday morning, you would have been turned away.

PEBBLE BEACH: MOTORCYCLES IN EXCESS, Part 2

Friday is the big day for the Pebble Beach Concours' great rival, the Quail Lodge Motorsports Gathering, an extravaganza of excess arguably even more exclusive than the event which spawned it. Tickets are limited to 3000 admittees on the day, and had sold out months prior - but could be purchased on Craigslist, for $1200 on the day! Ouch. Once inside, the Quail provides everything you might need, and it's all-inclusive with the $300 fee - champagne, caviar, oysters, catered food from the excellent Quail Lodge restaurants.

Not such a bad deal if you're a big drinker of bubbles and eater of fine food, and the atmosphere is exceptional, the venue being situated in the center of Carmel Valley, where the weather is just that bit better than on the coastline proper. Needless to say, I didn't have a ticket, but that didn't stop several of my (nameless, but blog-featured) pals from attending! If you can get past the heavy security, it's a party crasher's paradise.

Bonham's also holds its big auction of cars and memorabilia on Friday at the Quail, and I watched a metallic 'rose' Gullwing Mercedes sell for just over $500,000 - clearly some people are spending money like it's 2007. Plenty of other fine vehicles changed hands, although the featured 1939 Auto Union D-type V-12 racer (in an earlier v-16 chassis) didn't meet it's reserve, nor did the big-bucks Bugatti Type 57S which had heavy press hype. All in, a 57% sale rate; a sign of the times? Or, as was rumored, did the Russian provenance of the Auto Union, and it's association with six replicas built at Crosswaite & Gardner in England, dampen the mood... an interesting question, and I overheard quite a few conversations about 'claims of authenticity', and while no one seemed to take these seriously, the general feeling was that Someone had cast aspersions on the Auto Union, which would prove very difficult to unstick from the car's reputation. I find it fascinating - hot on the heels of a rise to Olympian values of certain cars and motorcycles, was born legal wrangling, court decisions, and lawyering-up of all parties in this high-stakes game of vehicle poker. I know more about libel, copyright, intellectual property, and defamation law than I really ought, simply via discussion around old vehicles.

Speaking of megabucks, I also managed a good look inside the Gooding's auction tent, which sat 200 yards away from MidAmerica's site at Pebble Beach. Goodings is perhaps the most successful auction venue during Motor Week ($50m in sales, 79% sale rate), and seems to sell the most high-dollar cars, and certainly has the swankiest display.

Their showroom tent is enormous, decorated with black chandeliers and cars on plinths, with soft music playing (Sufjan Stevens no less, and other tasteful contemporary fare - no elevator or new age stuff), and very discreet staff in attendance. Entry to view the cars was free, with the purchase of an auction catalog, for $150! That's one way to keep the riffraff at bay - luckily I had a press pass, so this raff managed a riff through the tent. Gorgeous.

On Saturday the Monterey Historic races circulate noisily at Laguna Seca Raceway, much to the chagrin of the neighbors who are constantly trying to shut them down. As I was contracted to sell motorcycles, I remained Pebble-bound, but there was plenty of action at the MidAmerica tent. Jay Leno returned to film a 'road test' segment for his website (which is online now, see it here!), on the new Brough Superior 'Pendine'... which meant, yes, as long as the bike was gassed, oiled, and warmed up, that I got my Own test ride on the new machine. Stay tuned!

I also managed to snag an extended road test of something Completely Different, a Confederate Hellcat, riding with Francois-Xavier Theirry (a major investor and Board member of Confederate) along 17-Mile Drive. More on that shortly, as well.

Our evening entertainment was dinner at Club XIX (I believe that's '19'...) with the Brough Superior and Confederate gang... Jared Zaugg of the Legend of the Motorcycle rode in on 'my' Hellcat, but with a chic velvet blazer and tie for dinner. A woman nearby shouted 'James Bond!' when he arrived, which says a lot for Jared, the Hellcat, and the evening.