2016 Hilton Head Island Concours d'Elegance

On Saturday, the Port Royal Golf Club hosted a car club event that precluded the Hilton Head Concours d'Elegance. The Car Club Showcase represents a more laid back approach, more like a traditional car show than the Concours, with its rigorous judging process.

The 18th green was home on Saturday to several car clubs, including the Chevrolet Corvair Club. Much like our now president-elect, the Corvair marched firmly across the line of convention. An air-cooled engine, producing between 80 and 150-horsepower depending on the variant, sat atop the rear axle. Mind you, this was in the 1960s, when most manufacturers, including General Motors themselves, were on the cusp of the muscle car craze.

The Corvair represented something different, a design gamble for Chevrolet that would prove sucessful. It was a car of seemingly endless variants. There was a convertible Corvair, a four-door sedan, even Corvair vans and pickup trucks. One such truck, owned by James Law, has covered thousands of miles to different Corvair club events. Law told me of trips from his home in Leesburg, Georgia to Chicago, Boston, Indianapolis, and Pennsylvania. Since restoring the truck in the late-1980s, he's driven it to every event including this one.

Jim Law's 1963 Chevrolet Greenbrier Rampside pickup truck.

The proper name for it is Greenbrier, the tag given to van and pickup variants of the Corvair. It began production in 1961 and could be had with either a 2.4 or 2.7-liter turbocharger flat-six engine. Jim's truck is a "Rampside," an option which meant it had a traditional tailgate at the rear, but also a large panel on the driver or passenger's side that could be folded down for easier loading. He he once used the truck to haul around his welder and acetylene tanks before it was restored.

In line next to Jim's 1963 Rampside was another yellow truck; this one has a small block V8 shoehorned in the bed. And next to the yellow truck was an excellent example of a six passenger Greenbrier van, complete with picnic table.

No doubt the Corvair and all of its variants now have fans that stretch across the globe. There's a strong Corvair following in the Netherlands, as well as in Australia, where the Australian army ordered 500 amphibious Corvair Dynatrack articulated vehicles, but never completed the deal. In 1969, the last year the Corvair was sold, GM could claim nearly two million overall sales.

But the Corvairs were far from the only cool story to come from this years Hilton Head show. Reed and Jan Tarwater, a couple from Greenfield, Indiana, drove their 1972 Fiat 124 Spider to the show. This car immediately caught my eye on Concours day. Reed explained the process he underwent to discover the name of the paint color: "Orange," he said, "that's what it was listed at in the book. I think it's hilarious." 

But the bright color is probably the least impressive thing about this Italian sports car. Reed bought the car new in March 1972 because of its advancements and no-nonsense construction. Four wheel disc brakes were standard, a rarity for the time, and the dual overhead cam engine would prove to be a robust power plant for years to come. Since its purchase, Jan and Reed have racked up 128,000 miles on the roadster, saying it's still a daily driver whenever the weather is nice enough. 

"We almost sold it once," says Jan. "Thankfully we changed our minds just in time. The dealership hadn't even processed the paperwork yet, and we got it back." Since then they've taken the car to Nova Scotia, and on other smaller trips around the midwest.

Indeed there was something about this year's show that felt more open than it ever had been before. Whenever I poked around a car with my camera, an owner would appear, ready to share stories of their time with it. 

This happened again with a miraculous 1972 Mercedes-Benz 600 short-wheelbase limousine.

"People call it the 'Christmas Car,'" said Guy Lewis, the owner who quickly noticed my curiosity in the Moss Green Mercedes. The rich red interior was a special order option. From 1963 to 1981, Mercedes built only 2,600 of these colossal sedans, most going to dignitaries around the world. Guy now owns several, including the green car on display, which has been painstakingly restored.

What's the furthest you've driven it, I asked. By the way he skirted the question, I knew the answer was "Not far." But he told me of another 600 sedan his mechanic picked up. It had been sitting in a warehouse in New Jersey for a decade, and Lewis had no intention of getting it fired up right away. But the car needed to get back to his mechanic's shop in Tennessee. Guy told him to trailer the car back, no silliness. But his mechanic was able to get the car going and drove it back to Tennessee the same day.

As with pretty nearly any Concours event, there were plenty of very early automobiles. These are cars where you can literally see the framework of the automobile, in some cases in its most rudimentary form. Model T's lined up in a row, followed by countless other small-batch cars like the 1908 Moon C and the 1912 Stevens Duryea. On Saturday, the South Carolina tourism board even displayed a pair of very rare cars from Anderson, a manufacturer based in Rock Hill, South Carolina from 1916 to 1925.

Walking through the vendor area to get to the next show field was also an exercise in familiarity. BMW and Porsche were out selling new cars, with the new Panamera as a showpiece for the latter. But past the vendors was some truly fantastic vintage sheet metal. 

A 1953 Maserati A6GCS on display at the Hilton Head Island Concours d'Elegance.

Maserati, Alfa Romeo, side-by-side. Any car buff knows this is a match made in racing heaven. While the trident car enjoyed steady crowds, it was the more bubbly Italian I was interested in. 

Bodied by Bertone, the Giulietta Sprint Speciale sports a shape on par with the legendary E-Type Jaguar. The same elements are at play: tucked-in wheels and curves unheard of today. In a time before wind tunnels, engineers used methods that were rudimentary at best. They tested aerodynamics by tying pieces of yarn to the leading edges of the car, then driving on the freeway with photographers alongside to document the results. And it seems their quasi-scientific methods worked. This car, which debuted in 1957, held the passenger car record for lowest drag coefficient until 1977, when it was bested by the C6 Corvette. 

I'll make no bones about it: Italian sports cars from the 1960s and 70s will always enjoy my complete and undivided attention, despite being a bit fickle (see also: not that well built, unreliable, ephemeral) . You can call it bias if you want; in fact you're entirely right if you do. But something about those classic designs mated to engines whose notes can inspire a generation of car enthusiasts, many whose parents weren't yet born when the cars debuted.

Another of these truly amazing, albeit less-than-sensible, Italian sports cars on display was a 1971 Lancia Fulvia. The Fulvia was a rarity for Lancia in the sense that it was built almost exclusively on its own platform. It was meant to replace the Lancia Appia, a front-engine, rear-drive economy car built to mimic some of the company's more expensive offerings.

The Fulvia, instead, rode on a short wheelbase front engine, front wheel drive platform. This compactness, combined with the punchy V4 engine, made the Fulvia coupe a star on the rally circuit. This was the car that would start Lancia on the road to become the most successful brand in rallying history. The Fulvia alone won the Italian Rally Championship every year from 1965 to 1973, missing out on a 1970 win. It would go on to be replaced by the now-legendary Lancia Stratos HF in 1974, and laid the groundwork for the Delta Integrale and 037, both of which also enjoyed huge rallying success.

As Sunday afternoon rolled around, the crowds were in full swing, and my friend and I had neared the last section of the show field. I noticed a bit of commotion while I was photographing a Peugeot 402 Darl'mat. When I finally looked over, I noticed a tow truck; a bit odd, but not entirely out of place at a classic car show of sorts. But then I paid closer attention to the crowd.

"In the lake. Yeah, a car went into the lake. Just rolled in!" Sure enough, a 1938 Packard had been bumped out of gear and rolled into the water hazard behind where it was parked.

The car was completely submerged, and eventually a diving outfit showed up in a Ford van. I watched as some volunteers showed the diver where to hook the tow truck chains on the axle of a car parked nearby, so he'd know what to do once underwater. Fifteen minutes later, and the tow truck finally started to winch the Packard out.

When the car surfaced, it looked decent at first. But a closer look at the entire car showed that the removable roof mechanism had suffered damage, and that it had definitely sat in a murky pond for nearly an hour.

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Despite the immaculate cars on the Sunday show field, you could still see the effects of hurricane Matthew. Areas were roped off, and wood was still chopped and piled among them. The storm hit just three weeks ago, and it's miraculous how quickly everyone's taken stock and moved forward. Around town, brush piled eight and nine feet high, but through all hours of the weekend, giant dump trucks with cranes and giant trailers attached were criss-crossing the island. Despite the loss of trees, there was astonishingly little damage to buildings. The most I heard of was flooding and minor roof damage in some cases. 

The show went on at Port Royal, and you got the sense that the show will almost certainly go on in the region as a whole. And for the Packard owner, the recovery may take just as long.



Check out all of the pictures from the 2016 Hilton Head Island Concours on the Unofficial Stig Facebook page. 

The Lancia Montecarlo: A Scorpion without the Venom

"What is it?" you might be asking.

"Why should I care?" is what you might also be asking. That is, if you know about Lancia's brief and checkered foray into the American automotive market.

Lancia is a name that, more than likely, is alien to most American drivers. If you're not an enthusiast, it's probably just another Italian name that's never been part of your vocabulary. But it's one that should.

Vincenzo Lancia first lent his name to the Tipo 51, a plan for a high-performance car that would later be known as the Lancia Alfa 12HP. That was in 1906, when Lancia still raced for Fiat. He decided to open up shop in Turin, a small town in northern Italy that's since been home to Alfa Romeo and Fiat. Lancia's cars brought forth things like the monocoque chassic, modern electrical systems, the five-speed gearbox, and the V6 engine. Commonplace nowadays, but revolutionary in their day. And like most revolutionaries, Lancia didn't get much recognition in the early days.

In 1969, a struggling Lancia was bought out by Fiat group. This proved to be just the push that Lancia needed, however, as some of their most iconic models were born in the 1970s, 80s, and early 1990s. Cars like the Fulvia, Delta Integrale, 037, and the Stratos dominated in the rallying arena. The Fulvia took home rallying honors before the World Rally Championship existed, and the following models grabbed a total of 11 World Rally Championship titles, 6 of which were won consecutively with the Delta.

During this period of rallying domination in the early 70s, Lancia's production cars were also doing quite well. Many of these were simply road-going versions of the same cars used in rally, with very little in the way of modifications. With pressure from Fiat and success in the racing world, Lancia decided to expand its market to the United States in 1975.

The car they chose was the Montecarlo, a mid-engined, rear-wheel drive car that did not participate in any rallies (although its platform was the basis for the wildly-successful Group B 037). This was an engineered-competition. The Montecarlo was meant to be sold as an up-market alternative to the smaller, cheaper Fiat X1/9. The X1/9 had already been sold in 1974, so executives hoped that the established brand and excitement for the new Lancia would be beneficial for both cars and the entire Fiat umbrella.

The Pininfarina-designed Montecarlo was sold as the Scorpion in 1975, this due to a conflict with Chevrolet, who were already using the name for their coupe. Unfortunately, things only continued to go downhill from there. Rust was no new issue to Lancia, and it's an issue that plagued cars throughout the 80s and 90s as well. The Scorpion was no exception, and these cars experienced excessive corrosion, especially the rear crossmembers, which were made of perilously thin metal.

Fiat's 2.0 liter Twin Cam engine, meant to be a saving grace, had to be smothered due to stricter emissions regulations (in wake of the 1970s energy crisis). In Europe, Montecarlo engines made a healthy 120 horsepower, but US-spec Scorpions made only 81. Automotive magazines in the US thrashed the Scorpion, saying its engine note was loud and harsh and that the brakes were downright dangerous. Even worse, these analyses were completely valid. The Scorpion's handling and engine performance fell appallingly short of what was promised.

After only 400 units were sold in 1976, Lancia pulled the Scorpion from the US market, and pulled out completely in 1982. Lancia ceased Montecarlo production in early 1978 to fix the brake problem. The car came back to the European market in 1980, engineering tweaks to the braking system included removal of the brake servos. Lancia ceased production of the Montecarlo completely after 1981.

Did we miss out on something fantastic? Probably not. But that doesn't make the Scorpion/Montecarlo any less cool. Given the rust and other problems, there are very few Scorpions left here in the United States. I've been lucky to spot two in my lifetime, one sitting in a repair yard in south Georgia, the other a well-restored Caffeine and Octane show car. Yes, they were crap, but they are also a fantastic piece of history; a cog in a once-great bit of racing heritage.

From Hearses to Hennesseys: The 37th Annual Concours d'Elegance of America

I thought the woman was going to have a stroke when I said I was really looking forward to the hearse exhibit at the Concours d'Elegance of America. She was giving me a tour of the Plymouth Historical Museum. The small Michigan town was host to its own slice automotive industry, after all. But hearses? She couldn't comprehend why I was so interested.

The hearses were only the beginning of what made this Concours special, though. The hearse category contained about ten examples of death chariots, from the late-Victorian horse-drawn era to the dazzling late-50s. The last car in the row was a Cadillac Landaulet, which sported all of the dazzle and excess that was late-50s Cadillac. It had the same huge tail fins and torpedo tail lights that graced the 1959 Eldorado. In fact, the same Cadillac also featured a special slide-out table for easy coffin loading, but even it wasn't exempt from decoration.

Hearses on display ranged from a horse-drawn, Victorian jewelry box to a ritzy 1959 Cadillac Landaulet.

Such niches in automotive enthusiasm have rarely been explored in any car event, let alone a Concours. The culture of the Concours is wrapped up in the shiny, dazzling, dust-free excess of the upper-upper class. But this particular Concours broke away from that, in more ways than just hearses.

The classic "flying B" hood ornament is a mainstay at any concourse event.

One of the biggest struggles within the car enthusiast community is the age disparity. "How do we get kids interested in cars?" is a question that's often thrown around. Even worse is the "kids just don't care about cars" nowadays troupe. This is of course a fallacy. But disparity between car enthusiasts is still a real issue. Unless you're a weirdo like me, who is interested in obscure Italian cars like the Fiat 8V, there's not much of interest, especially when a vast majority of show cars were built quarters-of-centuries before you were born.

Cars like this Austin Model 60 sedan are striking and historically-significant, but not especially appealing to the newest generation of car enthusiast.

Even for an (I'd like to think) open-minded enthusiast like myself, it's hard to connect with cars like the Duesenburg SJ or an Auburn Boattail Speedster. I can appreciate these cars for their fantastic engineering, and even their groundbreaking design, but I just don't connect to them as well. I feel like it's the same way for the youngest generation of car enthusiast.

When I was in the hotel lobby on Friday, I overheard a group of high school kids talking about cars. A Concours volunteer walked by and they immediately began asking "is the LaFerrari going to be here? What about the 918?" Thankfully for them, both cars were on the lawn on Sunday morning, and I'm glad the cars were there too.

Right up front, there was a rotunda of modern exotics: an Alfa 8C, a Lamborghini Diablo VT, the 918, the LaFerrari, and the crowds were huge.

I'll be the first to say I'm not a huge fan of contemporary hyper-exotics. For me, a lot of the flair is too much; it's overdone. But I remember what I liked back in high school, and I understand. These cars have always been the bedroom posters, and there they were at the Concours, just as promised.

2001, a Lamborghini Diablo VT. This can be called a "refresh," as Lambo didn't change their 1990 exterior design all that much. However Audi's new ownership of the company meant many bigger changes underneath the skin.

A pair of Alfas: the new 4C and the 8C from 2009.

So the organizers had the clincher, but they were still free to diversify even further. Early Japanese Sports Cars is not a category I expected to find in the cradle of the American automotive industry. Not when the domestic cars I spotted on the highways and city streets drastically outnumbered the imports. Not when I saw a bumper sticker that said "Be American, buy American ('else yer a socialist Obama-lover)" in the Henry Ford complex.

There were only a handful of cars in this category, but they were all supremely interesting. But these weren't cars that were entirely out of reach. They weren't one-of-a-kind; there was a Datsun 240Z. Furthermore, they weren't a hundred years old. They're cars that people my dad's age remember seeing on the road. And they're another group of cars that aren't often represented at car shows of this caliber.

A 1970 Mitsubishi Colt Galant GTO (above) and a 1966 Hino Contessa 1300S are two Japanese sports cars that are truly one-of-a-kind in the US; both cars are the only known examples here.

In addition to the Japanese Sports Cars and the Hearses, there were Bonneville Salt Flats cars, 1960s Pro-Stock Hot Rods, Suburban Town Cars, and European Post-war cars, just to name a few.

It is said that over 10,000 people attended last year's Concours d'Elegance of America. I would be staggered if the number wasn't larger this year. I saw all kinds of people who turned out in the 90 degree Michigan summer morning to look at fantastic cars. I saw the kind of interactions that give me hope for a new generation of car enthusiasts. My new generation, ideally, is one that is interested in cars at more than face value. I want kids to be intrigued by cars, like I'm intrigued, whether it be their interesting historical significance, stunning design, or groundbreaking technology.

The interior of a 1953 Fiat 8V Supersonic. It's almost plebian compared to the car's exterior design.

An ultra-rare Tucker 48 sedan. The Chicago car firm only produced 51 cutting-edge cars before mysteriously closing its doors.

A road-going version of the Lancia Stratos rally car.

This Concours was different from all the others I've been to in the past. It fostered an environment of learning, teaching, and acceptance of all different levels of enthusiasm: from a priceless Austin, to a Superlite SLC, to an Izuzu 112. Detroit may be the cradle of the American car industry, but it enthusiasm seems to be all-inclusive.


See more of my photos from The Concours d'Elegance of America below.