Roads We Remember #15
Early morning activity for Day 1 of the Mille Miglia quickly built to a fever pitch on the grounds of the Villa Fenarilo Palace Hotel. Amidst a bustling swirl of drivers, support crews and snorting vintage cars, our team bid adieu to the grand glory of the historic Palace Hotel. With young Chris at the wheel and Bruce riding shotgun, Fiat number 156, sped off to take its numbered place in the line to launch. Meanwhile Jeff and I muscled luggage and gear to the support vehicle parked beyond the hotel’s manicured gardens. The stark sunlight baked the white gravel road surface. As we sped away along the Palace Hotel’s impressively long entrance road, the hotel, obscured by the dense cloud of chalky dust kicked up by our support vehicle, disappeared from view. Day 1 of the 2026 Mille Miglia had arrived.
Mentor and Mentee Take on the Mille Miglia (Parte Duo)

With Chris at the wheel, Fiat 156 departs the ramp to start Day 1
Chris enthused but unsure, used the short distance to the staging area to develop some level of confidence with the Fiat; a significant learning experience awaited.
Throngs of fans joyfully brandishing red and white Mille Miglia flags stood four deep along the length of Brescia’s broad, tree lined Viale Venezia. Here, Chris and every other Mille Miglia competitor would briefly pause to collect their starting time before launching down the famous ramp to be a part of history, if only in their own life story.

Before the action starts, no better time exists to introduce our team’s trusty support vehicle, a triple black Volvo XC90 SUV hybrid rental. Sadly, we never bestowed upon it an endearing nickname, though it totally deserved one. However, maybe anonymity best served all involved as our support crew had ascribed to our Volvo the full spectrum of superpowers normally attributed to a company car. You know, features like the ability to leap curbs, corner like a go-cart and speed at levels capable of distorting the human face like a test pilot centrifuge.
A canopy of clear blue sky punctuated by a blazing sun ruled the day, though it did not produce the punishing heat that would arrive a week later. With every entry assured of its brief seconds on the historic ramp, the field of 459 participating cars produced one very long string of eager but restrained vintage cars and drivers. Constricted by the Fiat’s tight confines, Chris and Bruce sweated out the time waiting their turn.

Waiting their turn for the ramp
Wedging our Volvo rental into a parking space of questionable legality, Jeff and I decided to divide and concur. He would walk back to check on our feisty little Fiat. I would traipse ahead to position myself by the ramp to capture the all important launch photo. Understanding our roles, we both plunged into a massive crowd that surged like an ocean inlet.
Jeff wove his way down the Viale Venezia past the sequentially ordered entries to find number 156. Its open passenger door revealed Bruce’s large frame filling his half of the Fiat’s cockpit. Chris, with the more suitable stature of a welter weight, found the Fiat’s dimensions far more accommodating. In the brief journey from hotel to starting line, master technician Bruce had already sussed out the necessary fine tuning required for the Fiat to perform to its potential. As Jeff approached, Bruce’s distinctive Boston accent could be heard detailing his insights to any and all nearby technical staff.
By this time I had weaved my way through the spirited crowd to position myself to snap the money shot when Chris and Bruce descended the ramp. To this end, I took the opportunity to far exceed the limited powers of my official Mille Miglia “SUPPORT CREW” credential. My employing a calm indifference to barriers worked beautifully. I had unfettered access to capture Chris piloting Fiat 156 down the ramp.
With Chris‘s launch photo safely captured, I allowed myself a few moments to witness the ongoing mobile pantheon of historic automobiles. In viewing each car depart the ramp; I savored the experience as one by one priceless, profoundly meaningful and pristine classic automobiles passed with exuberant drivers waving to the cheering crowd. By the time I returned to the Volvo, Chris had made his way to the outskirts of Brescia. His learning curve had begun.
In recalling his first impressions of the Fiat in the early hours after descending the ramp, Chris says, “I found the car a little sluggish, but the steering input was fun. The tires are interesting to manage. They don’t like to go fast.” With a smile of acceptance, Chris adds, “Neither does the car. I would floor it and the car wouldn’t move. On hills I was surprised that a racecar would top out at 40 miles an hour.” Chris also had a lot to say about the gearbox. He says, “The Fiat’s gearbox is very loose or what Bruce describes as a ‘mystery shifter.’ You push it one way and hope it finds where it’s supposed to go. And if it doesn’t, you pull back and try again. No matter what, you have to be determined to shift that gear somehow.”
Summing up his initial impressions, Chris says, “It’s a little bit of an old fart.” However, Chris, clearly warming up to the little Fiat says, “I still thinks it’s got a lot of character. There’s something to be said about cars with souls and I think this Fiat with three real Mille Miglia races to its credit just might have one.”
Now, back in our trusty Volvo SUV we departed Brescia to shadow Fiat 156 on the Day 1 leg that would conclude in Padua. It was only then that we truly began to realize the grip this event had on the country and its population. Think of New York City’s “Canyon of Heroes,” only extend it over a good part of 1000 miles. Flag waving crowds pack the streets of towns both large and small. Chris says, “I was not expecting the flood of people. We went through towns that must have had at least half the population in the street cheering.” He went on to express an opinion that would remain unchanged throughout every leg of the journey. Chris says, “It was amazing. You would drive by and honk and everybody would cheer and wave. They did it enthusiastically for every car.” Chris observed that there seemed to be no favorites. He says, “There was no picking a specific car to cheer for. They cheered with equal vigor for all cars.” For Chris the consistent exuberance of the bystanders would be an unwavering source of personal joy throughout the event.

Many Italian police women are arrestingly beautiful
Along the Mille Miglia route routine traffic pulled to the side for Mille Miglia participants. Police stationed all along the route redirect normal traffic; Motorized police even created a third lane down the center of a road for participating cars to enjoy unfettered passage. At this point mention must be made of the Italian police presence; specifically the female Italian police. So many are attractive, even stunning. I have no doubt as to their professionalism. I do wonder how vigorously alleged perpetrators flee to escape, just saying.
Rules differentiating the proper routes for support vehicles as compared to the more desirable designated back roads reserved for entrants had been clearly defined in the Support Vehicle Road Book. Unfortunately for our team, once on the road we found someone had appropriated our copy. I lost the coin flip and won the responsibility for navigating our shadow path; one that did not infringe on the actual route but kept us close in the event our little Fiat needed help. What could possibly go wrong?
Armed with Waze, Google Maps and an actual AAA map of Italy I had brought, we pointed our triple Black Volvo Swedish Secret Service SUV east towards Padua. We would be stopping en route for lunch, we thought.
We quickly learned that encountering layers of animated flag waving fans dangerously pressed against ancient roadside buildings hugging a narrow road served to alert us when we had ventured onto the actual Mille Miglia route. That first morning we find ourselves climbing a serpentine road with hairpin turns that carve through a dense cluster of old and well tended homes. Taking the apex of a sharp turn reveals, directly ahead, the apex of the next hairpin turn plastered with a thick cluster of cheering fans fronted by a bevy of comely silver and blue clad cheerleaders. I mean real Dallas Cowboys grade comeliness shaking their silver and blue pompoms. This slammed home a reality that accompanied me for the remainder of my Mille Miglia experience: A vast majority of cheering bystanders display a fearless faith in every driver’s ability to maintain control of a car featuring the latest advances in automotive technology from seventy to ninety years ago.
As lunch time nears, Jeff and I tear up the steep hill towards the Tullio Saleri Stadium entrance. At the top we see that a quick right turn will bring us to the catered driver and crew luncheon. But no!
Unfortunately, the Polizia member in the bright reflective vest blocks the entrance and waves us off. Despite the large “Support Vehicle” signs plastered on our Volvo, and the “Support Crew” credentials we wave frantically the blank faced officer forces us to the left to wander lost in the foodless Mille Miglia wilderness. I eat a protein bar as I plot our shadow route to Padua. Time will show more confusion lay ahead; Confusion that will leave Jeff and me hungry or lost, or hungry and lost; Oh what fun. Similar treatment by other ill-informed Italian rent-a-cops will result in two lunch-less days for Fiat 156’s intrepid support crew.

Cars arriving at Prato della Valle in Padua
Day 1 may be the longest of the five legs. Cars start to pull into Padua’s Prato della Valle after dark. The spectacularly large square will be home to all the cars this evening. A huge crowd strains against iron barricades pressing in for a good look. Against the surrounding dark night the dramatic effect of the entering cars’ headlights washing across the jockeying competitor vehicles and beehive-like activity creates a scene with the feel of a film noir thriller as Fiat 156 comes into view.

Uncoiling from hours inside the Fiat, a clearly fatigued Chris says, “What a lot of driving. There were eight checkpoints and we got through five of them. Then, I saw that there were four more. Later when we went through a town that I thought was the end, but it was not, we were only about halfway. Now, here we are and darkness has fallen. It was doable but exhausting, very exhausting but also a whole lot of fun.”
When asked about tomorrow Chris’s comments showed he had gone to school on Day 1. Chris says, “I’m going to drive with a lot more confidence and be decisive. I think indecisiveness is where you get into dangerous situations. I’m going to use my turn signal a lot more than I did today, I’m going to make sure that everyone around me knows what I’m doing. I’m going to plan each movement accordingly because the car is sluggish and every movement needs to be intentional.”

Houtkamp’s mobile pit crew
Still hot from the road, Fiat 156 has been immediately swept away by Houtkamp’s technical support team to a quickly erected, well equipped and well-lit canopied pit area to receive needed service and maintenance through the night. Like a crack NASCAR pit crew, the Houtkamp techs move with speed and efficiency in quickly positioning a hydraulic jack to lift the Fiat’s tail. As the techs go to work, the team members retreat for a well deserved dinner and badly needed sleep. With the first day over, the clock now races towards the 5:30 am wake-up call for Day 2. Four more challenging days filled with the unexpected await. Chris’s Mille Miglia education has just begun.








Karen’s relationship with Sally dates back to Karen’s marriage to her late husband Bill Moyers. Bill passed in 2015. Bill a Porsche executive and motoring enthusiast had originally purchased the Porsche in 1971. With Karen’s marriage to Bill in 1984 she gained a great husband and fellow motoring enthusiast. The Porsche provided just one more shared passion about which they could bond.
A recent road test published on the Jalopnik website 60-years after the Car and Driver article sums up the 356 Super 90 experience pretty well. It appears to have aged well, like a fine wine. The Jalopnik reviewer states, “It’s pure joy. Unfiltered driving engagement and pleasure beamed straight into my brain. I spend a lot of time laughing and talking encouragingly to the little Super 90. It feels like a partnership or a conversation in a way that even old 911s can’t match with their extra weight and more modern suspension. With a curb weight of just over 2,000 lbs, you don’t feel like you’re trying to cheat physics.” Not unlike Sally, Karen has a life born into a car culture that produced years of driving pleasure.

me. She provides a strength, a foundation that archives happy memories while promising opportunities for more to come.




Rick says. “Let’s say it is a government project. I would suggest they focus on select zip codes. A person living in one such zip code could rent a Tango for an affordable rate per month. I see the Tango being a no frills highly mobile form of transportation; something really bullet proof. The Tango commuter car would not be something to show off.” Reflecting on that comment he laughs as he says, “Though the Tango can back in between two full size parked cars.” He believes the Tango delivers a higher level of mobility than public transportation. He says, “It just gets people where they want to go. At some point an autonomous driving feature including autonomous driving lane splitting would be available. That’s my idea for the future.” He concedes that for the Tango concept to make a difference it would need a lot of people in Tangos. Rick says, “To do that the Tango solution has to be affordable. Right now, the car costs four hundred and twenty thousand dollars each to build. That’s not affordable to anybody. Not even billionaires want to pay that much. This does not mean interest from government and business has not been expressed.

For 2026, the route will replicate the original roughly 1000 mile figure-eight course. Each of its five timed stages will take drivers on grueling 10 to 12 hour treks through a challenging mix of fast changing elevations while traversing winding, mountain passes; rugged dusty backcountry paths; narrow twisting cobblestone lanes squeezing through rural villages; and picturesque open vistas viewed from ancient roads clinging to cliffs overlooking the Adriatic Sea. Bruce Amster has seen and driven it all many times over since the 1970s.
It also makes sense for a newcomer to include a seasoned veteran as part of the team considering the price of admission. First to get accepted requires selection by the governing fathers of the Mille Miglia. The Management Committee of the Registro 1000 Miglia and the official 1000 Miglia Organizers select the vehicles based on originality and historical relevance. Eligible cars must typically be models that participated in or were registered for the original 1927–1957 races, with a preference for survivors. For an entrant who owns a car, Bruce understands the costs involved. Allowing that so many variables impact expenses, especially the cost to properly prep the car, Bruce describes his estimation as a ballpark figure. He says, “For a car coming from the United States, the cost for car preparation, shipping to and from Europe, travel costs, entry fees, support staff costs and myriad other “incidentals” the number can climb to somewhere south of $100,000.” When asked why he chose to campaign a coupe for this event rather than a cabriolet, his answer is simple. He says, “I have previously driven 10 hours in spyders with no tops that were not meant to be driven in the pouring rain. Even with all the proper rain gear we were still sitting in puddles of water. I don’t need to or want to check that box again.”



For the Italian nation in the 1930s cycling reached its peak of popularity. It served as Italy’s most popular spectator sport until the 1950s. It was a mass cultural phenomenon that unified the country, shaped the national identity of its citizens, and up to WWII became a central tool for fascist propaganda under Benito Mussolini. Cycling stood above all other sports as did baseball in America. For Italians cyclist Gino Bartali towered as their Babe Ruth maybe with a little Charles Lindbergh mixed in.
Based on research conducted by Yad Vashem, the World Holocaust Remembrance Center, Bartali, in 1943, responded to a request by the Archbishop of Florence, Cardinal Elia Dalla Costa to volunteer his cycling skills. The Archbishop in collaboration with Rabbi Nathan Cassuto established a clandestine network to hide Jews in convents and monasteries while producing forged documents to help them escape. Bartali’a role called for him to transport the counterfeit identity documents to points comprising the underground network bounded by Florence, Assisi and Genoa, an area of considerable size. He also would pick up money from a Swiss bank account in Genoa for distribution to Jews hiding in Florence. Bartali employing equal measures of courage, brazen ingenuity and chutzpa (Yiddish for audacity) would hide the documents in the frame and handlebars of his bicycle. Never taking the shortest route, to better avoid checkpoints, his clandestine rides, and he took many, could exceed 200 kilometers. When stopped and searched at German checkpoints, the famous Bartali would warn the guards not to touch the bicycle as he had it set just right to deliver optimum performance. However, as the war progressed the frequent sighting of a cyclist training for races that no longer occurred began to raise questions. In July of 1944 Bartali found himself being interrogated at the infamous Villa Triste (Sorrow House) in Florence where fascist officials practiced forced imprisonment and torture. With luck and possibly God on his side, one of Bartali’s interrogators happened to be his army CO who promptly vouched for the cyclist’s innocence. Not to be satisfied with his good works as the conduit by which Jews could escape the Nazis, he, at the same time, hid a Jewish family in his home until the allies entered Florence.
Bartali’s role in preventing an Italian civil war and saving the nation again finds a parallel in the lore of American icon Babe Ruth. In this case the fabled story of Babe Ruth’s “Called shot” comes to mind. The story takes place in the 1932 World Series. In that game “The Babe” being mercilessly heckled by the opposing Chicago Cubs pointed to the centerfield bleachers and promptly hit the next pitch for a home run into the centerfield bleachers. Though still debated, it stands firmly anchored as baseball lore.


your car. In my case MotorWorks West has previously worked on my 2003 E46 BMW 330. It features a very professional exclusive BMW facility and enjoys a very positive reputation. For a Refresh, consider the shop you choose as your partner in the project. As well, the shop, too, should view this relationship as more than just another job. It certainly will be more expensive. Finally, thoroughly review the vehicle with the shop owner. This review must include both an under the hood and an up on a lift visual inspection. Before proceeding you should have a written estimate from the shop detailing all aspects of the project. This is when you decide if the Refresh merits the cost. If yes, establish a budget before proceeding. It should include a contingency of maybe 15% for legitimate work not foreseen. Have the shop save all of the old parts removed for your confirmation and inspection. Remember this job will dent your wallet. Know and respect the limit of yours.


Considered the last of the legendary naturally aspirated inline-6 engines upon which BMW built its reputation, the N52 in my X3 with its inherently balanced inline-6 configuration, advanced features like Valvetronic, Double VANOS and lightweight magnesium-aluminum block boasts smooth, linear power and superior reliability compared to the more complex B48 turbocharged engine found in newer BMWs.