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)

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.