Shiny and red as a ripe apple and half the width of a Smart Car, it silently split the lane between two SUVs and sailed off down the highway. Witnessing this, friend of Drivin’ News, Dr. Chuck Berg, fueled by a high octane “need to get a better look” took off in determined pursuit. Thanks to a stoplight, Chuck finally caught up to what can best be described as a high performance transportation pod for two. It was then that Chuck would meet the vehicle’s driver and creator Rick Woodbury.

Meet Rick Woodbury and his creation, the Tango high performance commuter electric microcar.

The Tango Electric Microcar – Little Tykes Cozy Coupe reborn as a Dodge Demon

While faster from 0 to 60 mph than a 2026 911 Carrera, Rick Woodbury’s Tango also protects occupants with a chrome-moly steel roll cage construction that exceeds FIA (Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile) racecar standards. Not bad work for a man who quit high school to live in Mexico, retreated to a Zen Monastery, worked as the Sales Manager at Beverly Hills Porsche Audi, raced Porsches in IMPSA and SCCA events, worked as an electrical engineer for Northface garments, spent all his spare time in machine shops, considers himself a master fabricator and, oh yes, an accomplished ice dancer. In so many ways Rick Woodbury’s unique creation, the Tango electric microcar, not unlike his life, defies categorization. In the case of the Tango this confusion has proven to be both a blessing and a curse.

Rick Woodbury and the Tango

The Tango idea sprouted during conversations with his young son. A very passionate Rick says, “By the time my son was in 5^th grade around 1998 we had enjoyed many discussions about the future of highway travel.” Dating back to when he worked with Porsche Rick would be exasperated by commuting to work behind the wheel of a 911 and poking along in freeway traffic at 10 mph. Rick says, “It would drive me nuts. And I thought, you know, we need narrow cars just for commuting.” He envisioned a future with highways hosting a plenitude of narrow cars providing more efficient use of road space for expedited commuting. How narrow? Rick says, “You have to get a car less than 40 inches wide to solve the traffic problem. You know, it’s just an absolute fixed line that you can’t change. It has to be that, or you have to change the infrastructure and that’s not going to happen.” Rick felt a width of thirty nine inches would work just fine. He observed that nearly 90% of the cars driven by his fellow commuters had a single occupant. To Rick it seemed really stupid to waste a whole lane for a single person. He surmised that with narrow commuter cars a single lane could carry twice the people. Rick says, “There’s 140 million workers in the US or at least there were at that time with 107 million of them being single occupant drivers. And how is the government trying to address this? They want to stick us in public transit.” Rick has strong feelings about that idea saying, “Stick us all in public transit? I don’t think so. You know, it’s not happening. People want to go where they want to go, when they want to go.” With the inspiration to revolutionize the driver commuting experience Rick began his pursuit of a solution. As to why the Tango name, Rick’s tenure as an ice dancer found him to be a big fan of that particular passionate Argentinean dance. Tango actually provides a quite catchy name. Hey, it sure beats Gremlin.

George Clooney and his Tango

Subsequent to his narrow commuter car epiphany, Rick dedicated his life and $50,000 of his own money to making the Tango a reality. To get it on the road in his home state of Washington he registered the Tango as a home built car. Rick says, “Back then in the state of Washington you just had to abide by eight pages of regulations. It was pretty simple to register the car at that time. Later on that would change.” Then, for the next three decades he has worked diligently to refine his concept. By 2005 with the Tango employing an Odyssey lead-acid battery Rick made his first sale, to actor George Clooney. Rick says, “Clooney drove it for a couple of years. Though his Tango had all blacked out windows it still drew throngs of gawkers even without people realizing that it had George Clooney at the wheel.” Having the Tango zipping around the film community generated a great deal of publicity. Rick says, “It increased awareness significantly. It helped us a lot.” Unfortunately Clooney’s Tango driving stopped when he departed Warner Brothers and, with that, eliminated his need to commute.” After the first sale to Clooney in 2005, late 2006 witnessed the Tango leap forward with Google founders Sergey Brin and Larry Page purchasing Tangos and promoting the use of lithium batteries to power Rick’s commuter pocket rocket.

Before reviewing the rocky path the Tango has faced in achieving acceptance much less success it makes sense to review its present day specifications. The Tango body, constructed from lightweight, high-strength carbon fiber, can accommodate two adults seated in a tandem, “I” formation. It weighs in at a robust 3,326 pounds with a width of 39 inches, a length of 102 inches (8 ft. 6 inches) and a height of 61 inches.

12.2 second 1/4 mile

The awesome power driving this commuter mini-beast comes courtesy of 2 Advanced DC heavy duty DC electric motors with each one driving a rear wheel. The two motors together produce a combined starting torque of 3000 ft.-lbs. With an 8000 rpm redline the Tango’s 600kW output translates into 805 horsepower. The Tango turns 12.2 seconds in the 1/4-mile  at 106 mph. Steering is rack and pinion. Front suspension features unequal length A-arms with coil-over shocks while the rear suspension offers a trailing arm design with coli-over shocks. Front and rear disc brakes employ Mazda Miata calipers. While the Tango equips both passenger positions with four aircraft style seat harnesses, it must be noted that the present Tango lacks numerous requisite safety features required to meet crash test standards. Its status as a kit car allows some leeway to excuse the absence of such features as a supplemental restraint system and an energy management structure that provides for the redirection and diffusion of the force of an impact. The Tango also lacks ABS braking. That said government agencies and private companies have taken a look at the Tango and walked away impressed but still walked away. While numerous global transportation experts have been awed by the tango many, at the same time, find it difficult to categorize.

Tango two-seater

One limiting factor that deserves to be addressed rears its very expensive head when the topic of production cost surfaces. Costs involved in hand building one Tango today top out at $420,000. That said, as Rick wants no interference with the production of his Tango dream, he rejects investors seeking involvement. He, thus, currently relies primarily on self funding. Over the years prices charged to Clooney, Brin, Page and others range in the area of $120,000 to the latest lithium ion powered unit with a 300-mile range costing $300,000. These prices clearly do not conform to Rick’s vision of an affordable dedicated commuter car.

What then is his vision? Would he consider looking for funding from some angel and create his own factory? Rick says, “That’s preferable, but I am 76. I’m getting up there. I may not be able to pull that off. I’ll have to see how it goes, but I will strive to guide the company forward to revolutionize the world of Transportation. When asked about the ideal environment to test the feasibility of the Tango, Rick ever the optimist says, “I think you can take any crowded city like San Francisco or anywhere in the Los Angeles area. There you have people spending literally hours commuting with half their time consumed creeping along because of the traffic congestion.”

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.

Rick actually met with Caltrans (California Department of Transportation) in 2001. Recalling the meeting Rick says, “I gave them a test drive in the first Tangos and they said, we’re not going to build the lanes until you build the cars and you’re not going to build the cars until we have the lanes so you know we’re not going anywhere with this. That was 25 years ago. Undeterred, Rick soldiered on buoyed by his observation that motorcycles can be seen cruising legally as a group side by side. His belief in the Tango concept remained unwavering.

XPrize competition

The year 2008 witnessed the announcement of the Progressive Automotive X-Prize. Launched by the XPrize Foundation and sponsored by Progressive Insurance its intent was to inspire the creation of safe, affordable, and “super-fuel efficient” vehicles capable of achieving at least 100 MPGe (Miles per gallon of gasoline equivalent). Winners would share in a $10,000,000 pool of prize money. Rick entered the Tango.

The competition concluded in September 2010 with three winning teams sharing the prize purse. The Tango did not win. Rick with no bitterness says, “We did not win the $2.5 million purse for our special category of tandem seating.  An electric enclosed motorcycle with training wheels that extend when stopped called the Zero Tracer won the purse and then promptly went out of business. We ran air conditioning as it was 106 degrees that day, so we came up just short of the 100 MPGe that was required. Some of the competitors used ice blocks instead of A/C to keep the cabin under 95° which was the requirement. Seems like cheating, but the organizers approved it. One final comment in referring to practicality, Rick says, “The winner vehicle in my category was so unstable it fell over on its side when parked on a slope by the oval test track. That would have seemed to be worthy of disqualification, as these cars were supposed to be functional for daily use. I mean how many people would it take to upright an enclosed motorcycle weighing over 1,000 pounds in a San Francisco intersection? And so it goes. The Tango checked so many boxes; they just were not all on the judges’ sheet.

Rick Woodbury’s thoughtful Tango EV microcar concept may be a very fast, highly maneuverable and effective solution to a question no longer of much interest to the institutions in a position to promote it. His home state of California made it clear to him of its desire to be rid of cars all together.

The ingenuity and dedication demonstrated in Rick’s passionate desire to reduce traffic congestion suffers from the absence of a location supporting the necessary critical mass of refined Tangos necessary to realize its advantages; not unlike having an iPhone in a landline world but no cell service.

Brought by restorer extraordinaire Bruce Amster to Redline Restoration, this visual echo of mid 20^th century sports car design called to mind other striking Pininfarina creations. However, despite common design cues, no other car looked exactly like this one and for good reason, none existed.

In 1948 Italy, with the war in the past and the future in question, Pininfarina in collaboration with Lancia had created a strikingly forward thinking sports car design called the Lancia Aprilia Spider 2 Posti Pininfarina Special. Completed, it would honor a renowned Italian cyclist Gino Bartali whose war-time heroism and post-war patriotism made him a most deserving owner.

Who was Gino Bartali?

Pininfarina’s One of One Tribute to an Unsung WWII Hero

Lancia Aprilia Spider 2 Posti Pininfarina Special and Gino Bartali

Squirreled away in a decrepit garage deep in one of Detroit’s lesser neighborhoods it would seem to be the last place to find a mid 20^th century Pininfarina designed one-of-one Italian sports car. This once sleek pewter metallic Postwar Italian stunner had traveled a long distance over many years to find itself ingloriously stashed in a forgotten corner of a tired inner cityscape. Then, after its decades long journey into oblivion it had been unearthed by seasoned classic car collector Bruce Amster. Now, like the Phoenix, it would one day rise to the heady heights of the awards ramp at Pebble Beach. However, an even more interesting story would be that of the man for whom Pininfarina had created this classic car, famed Italian cyclist and WWII hero Gino Bartali.

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.

A devout Roman Catholic and ardent anti-fascist, Bartali, born into poverty achieved legendary status with his cycling exploits. Described as tough, feisty, outgoing with a gravelly voice, broken nose and reputation as an aggressive cyclist, Bartali though only 5 ft 7 inches tall carried the nickname “Ironman”. He competed across Europe in hundreds of races from the 1930s till the 1950s. He won the Tour de France twice (1938 and 1948) and the Italian Giro d’Italia three times (1936, 1937 and 1946). Yet while a legendary athlete, Bartali’s two greatest accomplishments, achieved while cycling but not racing, resulted from selfless acts of courage, strength and moral fortitude. The first, unheralded till after his passing in 2000 at the age of 85, saved over eight hundred Jews from Nazi death camps. The second, claimed by many of his fellow Italians, averted an Italian civil war and communist coup that preserved Italy as a free nation.

Conscripted into the Italian army at the start of WWII as a bicycle messenger, Bartali’s duties as a messenger together with his rigorous training regimen made him a common sight on local roads. With Italy’s surrender in 1943 and the subsequent Nazi occupation, nearly 10,000 Jews suffered deportation to Nazi death camps. In this darkest hour Bartali’s familiar cycling presence over long distances would facilitate saving the lives of hundreds of Jewish men, women and children.

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.

In 1948 during one of the mountain stages on his way to winning the Tour de France, French fans pelted him with rocks, snowballs and calls of “Dirty fascist.” He never responded by revealing his heroism. Only upon his death did details of his courageous exploits come to light. In 2010 the World Holocaust Remembrance Center honored Bartali by declaring him “Righteous Among the Nations.” And then there is the matter of preventing an Italian civil war and saving the nation.

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.

In the case of Bartali, he has been credited with preventing a communist led civil war by way of his historic and courageous come from behind victory in the 1948 Tour de France. His electrifying victory during a period of mounting political conflict and unrest in Italy had distracted and unified a fractured nation. It released the mounting pressure for insurrection and with that the threat to civil order subsided. Like the Babe’s “Called shot,” Bartali’s role as “savior of Italy” though questioned by some, stands as a truth. Now, let’s return to the future and a flatbed truck gaining undesired attention as it winches a sad memory of Gino Bartali’s one-of-one Lancia Aprilia Spider out of a ramshackled garage in a trashed Detroit neighborhood.

No prima donna he, Bruce Amster while a da Vinci of classic car restoration is not above driving a flatbed to Detroit to rescue a long abandoned rolling treasure he had discovered.

In recalling the experience Amster says, “The car had been left in the, now, rundown garage for decades and not in a good area. Much of the neighborhood had been abandoned or leveled. Backing in, I succeeded in snaking the flatbed through an overgrown back yard. Now, as I’m winching the car out of the garage. People start appearing out of nowhere. Junkies start peppering me with questions like ‘What’s in there?” “What’s that?’ I start talking fast explaining that it’s just an old car that I’m picking up for scrap.” Laughing, he says, “I strapped that load down with the speed of a NASCAR pit crew and headed out of town with my precious barn find.”

In 1948, years before Giovanni Battista “Pinin” Farina changed his name to, simply, Pininfarina, he, together with Lancia, created a beautiful forward thinking cabriolet called the Lancia Aprilia Spider 2 posti Pininfarina Speciale (Try saying that without taking a breath). Displayed at the Paris Salon of 1948, he had produced the beauty as a special order for Italian cycling hero Gino Bartali. Combining beauty and performance the sculpted curved lines emphasized the cabriolet’s graceful character. Technologically, its bespoke light weight aluminum construction, four-wheel independent suspension, Aluminum overhead cam V4 engine and a platform chassis that paved the way for the wider application of unibody construction positioned this Lancia as a forerunner in the coming age of sports cars.

Owned by Bartali into the early 1950s when his need for a larger vehicle necessitated its sale. As best as can be figured, it first went to a dealer in Italy. The 1960’s saw it purchased by iconic classic car broker Ed Jurist at his Vintage Car Store in Nyack, New York. Amster says, “From then until I picked it up for my present client in the early 2000s it had been in the old owner’s hands. During that 30-year period the old owner tried to do the restoration work himself as he apparently couldn’t find a qualified mechanic who would take the project on.” Sadly he could not get it done before he died.

In the late 1990s with the old owner’s death the car and the house in Detroit where it was stored passed into his estate. Over the next number of years both house and car deteriorated. Finally, with resolution of the estate in 2000, Amster flatbedded the car back to Redline Restoration and a waiting buyer. Once at Redline, Amster had the opportunity to probe the mysteries of the unique sports car that he would be commissioned to restore in 2001. Recounting a very pleasing discover, Amster says, “The car had maintained much of its originality. In researching the car, broker Ed Jurist back in the 1960s must have realized he had gotten something special. For that time, he had gotten good money for it.” Amster found the doors of the car especially fascinating. He says, “This car basically was unique in many ways; One being how the doors were built. They were spring-loaded. So you pushed a button and the door would open up for you.”

Bartali Lancia at Pebble Beach 2021

Aware that this Lancia held a unique and significant place in automotive history, the new owner directed Amster to restore the Bartali Lancia to concours standards, which Amster did. The completed restoration rolled out of Redline in 2003. It would not be until eighteen years later that the same owner would decide to show the car at Pebble Beach. August of 2021 saw the Bartali Lancia depart from Redline for California. Widely considered the most prestigious car show in the world, Pebble Beach stands as the pinnacle Concours d’Elegance competition. There on Sunday August 15, 2021 the Bartali Lancia took an amazing 2^nd place in its class.

Once again the Bartali name held its head high. Even Babe Ruth never took a trophy at Pebble Beach.

My 2008 BMW X3 “Refresh or Replace” “Drivin’ News” post garnered significant feedback sympathetic to and supportive of my decision to refresh. An appreciable number of people shared that they too had lately mulled the same question. Some had already made the commitment to refresh. Maybe not surprisingly, I found those seriously considering undertaking this fairly costly preservation effort bore many similarities and shared concerns. For me, reader comments drew attention to an evolution in the character of car enthusiasm that I found quite telling.

Let’s see if you agree.

My 2008 BMW X3 Refresh, Going all in on another 50,000 miles

Valentines Day present. Just got my X3 Refresh back

Defining a Refresh demands focusing on functional excellence as compared to aesthetic perfection when applied to a long time daily driver. It is not a restoration. When successfully executed it does not target attracting huzzahs from admiring Concours judges. It does reward an owner’s investment in a long held daily driver by providing additional years delivering the driving experience that earned the owner’s loyalty in the first place. My experience has identified three requisites necessary for a vehicle to merit consideration for a Refresh: Good bones, an owner with a comprehensive knowledge of the car and a marque astute shop to entrust with the work.

The quality of the car being considered for a Refresh ranks first and foremost. Good bones, proper treatment, regular maintenance and a proven track record over its driving history all determine if a vehicle merits the investment. Good bones displayed in a car bear similarities to the desirable qualities bred in a horse. Over time, the quality of materials, construction integrity and design of a specific make and model imparts a reputation; sometimes good, sometimes not so good.

Step one demands knowing if the car deserves the love and money a Refresh will demand of its owner. Other than the general attributes that history has shown the car to possess, the specific vehicle’s track record means everything. Thus, long time ownership by the present owner ranks very high. Only he or she will know how the car has been treated; how it has been maintained and all or at least a considerable portion of its driving history. In my opinion, a serious accident in a car’s past disqualifies it for consideration as a Refresh. Contemplating a Refresh on a car that you just purchased introduces too many questions, any of which could produce an answer that would disqualify the car.

Finally, the third leg to support a successful Refresh, and very possibly the most important, resides in the shop entrusted with the Refresh. The guy who changes your oil or can fix “any car” has no place in the conversation. You must do your homework. If you are looking to get off cheap, it will be the most expensive mistake you could make. You are lucky if a marque specialist already services 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.

With my X3’s Refresh completed Steve Smith owner of MotorWorks West reviewed the final invoice. the absence of any surprises delighted me. To my BMW’s credit the clutch and flywheel, both with 155,000 miles of wear, remained fully functional. However, inspection clearly showed that future failure fast approached. As to the engine Steve provided me the individual cylinder wave form printouts of my compression test. These graphic representations confirmed my engine’s health as did the results of the other diagnostic tests. They supported a decision to proceed with the Refresh. Should the diagnostics have shown serious engine problems, I would not have proceeded. Either way the diagnostics would have been worth the cost in providing evidence supporting a go/no go decision.

Compression test wave form #4 cylinder

To add perspective to the wisdom of refurbishing a long time daily driver, I interviewed five seasoned car enthusiasts and friends of Drivin’ News who have or are considering giving new life to their high mileage daily driver.

Jim El Nabli loves his 2011 BMW X5 with 135,000 miles and recently conducted a major refresh to keep the love alive. Once upon a time an automobile technician, now an attorney and passionate BMW enthusiast, Jim, a multiple BMW owner, has for the past decade, immersed himself in a 100 point restoration of a 1999 BMW Euro-spec E36M he purchased new.

Peter Desbets cannot say good bye to the 2011 Volvo XC60 daily driver with 173,000 miles he has owned since new. He has spent over 40 years as an executive in the automobile industry and president of a media company serving the automobile industry. A dyed in the wool car guy he presently owns a pristine 1986 Porsche 911 Carrera and an eclectic track record of classic car ownership.

Bill Hoover bought his 2015 Volvo XC70 T-6 daily driver new. He describes it saying, “It’s the last of the in-line 6’s with just the right level of technology. A Polestar performance upgrade adds some fun to the experience.” Now, with 100,000 miles recently showing on the clock he looks to do whatever is required to provide another 100,000 miles of high-quality motoring. An auto industry executive in both the United States and Asia he has an SCCA racing history and a significant roll call of classic cars owned now and in the past.

Each of these men champion a perspective that embraces an analog, tactile driving experience left in the dust if not for dead by today’s new car offerings. Possibly the leading edge of a movement, the cohort of individuals rejecting today’s expensive, technology drenched automobiles appears to be growing.

Jim says, “I’m the original owner of my 2011 X5. I bought it brand new. I special ordered it with pretty much every option. It had everything that I want.” Upon hitting 130,000 miles he looked into a new replacement. He ran the numbers to cost out buying an equivalent new X5. Jim says, “I was shocked to find myself looking at a price well into the 90s, maybe even higher, which sounds crazy, but that’s where the prices are today. That’s a huge pill to swallow financially.” He even notes that prices for a used X5 go through the roof as well. Luckily for Jim his X5 enjoys life being owned by a fastidious owner. For the decision on doing a Refresh, Jim’s X5 checked all the boxes. He has owned it since new. It had enjoyed all scheduled services and been maintained to keep it in peak running form. It had good bones. He started on his Refresh by addressing all recognized weak points such as the harmonic balancer.

Jim estimates that the Refresh made great financial sense. He says, “If I can get another hundred thousand miles out of it. I’d be very happy. I think that would have been well worth the cost. When it comes to dollars you can’t look at it as I’m putting in ten thousand, twenty thousand dollars and I’m going to lose that money. You have to amortize that over time so let’s say I hold on to the car now the five years. So, how much am I really spending per year?

A universal concern among all the men interviewed played a significant role in Jim’s decision to refresh. He says, “Complexity towers as a growing concern for automobile longevity. The past 15 years have witnessed a profound reengineering of automobile functions utilizing sophisticated electronics. Jim has an opinion saying, “Cars are far more complicated by the integration of digital technologies and electronics. In my experience electronics don’t last. Today’s cars are so complex that when things go wrong, diagnosis can present a formidable, frustrating and costly challenge.”

Jim acknowledges that his car while considered cutting-edge when new, today, ranks as a dinosaur based on today’s technology. That said, he responds saying, “Dinosaurs did last for 75 million years. I’ll take my chances on my X5 not being wiped out by a meteorite.”

Bill, in describing how he feels when he slides behind the wheel of his 2015 Volvo XC70, says, “There is a comfort factor when I jump into that car in the morning. It feels like an old friend. The feeling brings to mind the old Mastercard tag line, that feeling is priceless.” Bill finds much of that comfort in the smooth robust power delivered by the Polestar tweaked Turbocharged inline 6-cylinder engine putting out 370 horsepower.  With his home in Tucson 200 miles away from a mountain getaway at an altitude of 7200 feet Bill savors his Volvo’s elevation eating performance.

Bill says, “With power to spare, it’s great for my drive up to the mountain house. It’s a car that is reliable. It’s not going to have suspension issues or brake issues. It’s basically going to perform like a new car. Yeah, it’s priceless.” Bill is confident in the longevity inherent in his 2015 Volvo’s bones. He expresses concerns about the product life inherent in today’s maximized low displacement engines and the reliance on sophisticated complex technology, engineering solutions upon which contemporary automobiles rely.

Bill, while accepting some technology such as parking sensors and blind spot warning, lacks any passion about wanting every next new thing that comes along. Actually he comes across as being quite sanguine about all of the latest things absent in the 2015 Volvo XC70 that he loves. To his driving delight one of the newer things his XC70 lacks is EPS (Electronic Power Steering). It does have the old traditional hydraulic power steering which features exceptional driver feedback. EPS on the other hand provides the means for enabling the inclusion of advanced driver-assist features like lane-keeping assist and automatic parking. Bill clearly favors his XC70’s old school hydraulic. He says, “I occasionally drive my partner’s car with EPS. For me it has nowhere near the same road feel as my XC70. It’s too light. It drives me crazy. They have the software dialed in to prevent torque steer. The steering angle also controls the throttle response. I find myself pressing on the accelerator and not going anywhere. It’s like wait a minute, wait a minute. Now, unwind the steering wheel. OK, now we’re going. It frustrates the crap out of me. As for my partner, she sees no problem other than my complaining.”

In recent years Peter has casually explored a suitable replacement for his limited edition Cosmic White Metallic 2011 Volvo XC60, but to no avail. In reflecting on his long time daily driver it features a 3.2 liter non-turbo inline 6 cylinder engine with a 6-speed Geartronic transmission and Haldex all-wheel drive. It ranks among the last of Volvo’s non-turbo sixes.

He says, “I like the way it looks. I love the way it drives. Great suspension, it’s all been rebuilt over time. Marvelous seats. It’s an R design. Its 20-inch wheels and stance look great.” But, now with 15 years and 173,000 miles on the clock, Peter finds himself at a crossroads. He says, “I’m the original owner. I’ve had it for 15 years this February. It runs great. All the known quirks have been addressed including oil consumption issues and a leaky windshield. It has been meticulously maintained. Frankly, no real necessity demands a Refresh or Replace decision. All that exists is that nagging 173,000 on the odometer.”

Peter’s first move took him to the new car marketplace. He has a new car in the family, his wife’s Acura. Reflecting on the new Acura he says, “Pricing is ridiculous.” With that in mind he decided to explore CPO (Certified Pre-Owned) used cars. He looked in the $25,000 to $28,000 range. About his CPO search Peter says, “Cars in that range have 80,000 miles to 100,000 miles. I look at that and think has it been serviced properly? Have the brakes been done and when? Have this and that been done.” The idea of leaving a good car that he knows well and jumping into something that he knows little about haunts him. And, then, comes the complexity kicker: Newer cars possess much more sophisticated electronics. He expresses his concern saying, “This is all great. But what will the sophisticated electronic features be like five years down the road?  And if you look at something with a high degree of complex technology what happens seven, eight, nine or ten years down the road. Will that technology be supported? Software changes constantly. What if the software running something in your car is no longer viable like a cell phone that is no longer viable or your laptop can’t be upgraded. What do you do?” After due consideration, Peter’s decision called for keeping his XC60.

Peter says, “It has been so well maintained I don’t see any major investment needed in the foreseeable future. God forbid, the transmission goes. Still, I’ll probably get it fixed and continue to use it. Certainly from a cost of insurance standpoint money savings versus a new car is huge.” Echoing the sentiments expressed by Bill about his beloved XC70, Peter says, “I love my Volvo. Settling into the great Volvo seat, my XC60 fits like a great pair of old sneakers.” Similarities common to each individual’s experience painted a fairly clear image of Refresh minded owners.

Clearly an older group, predominantly but not exclusively male, all gained their driving chops in the late 20th century’s “Golden Age” of the automobile. They cut their motoring teeth when feeling the road qualified as a good thing. All possess confidence in their skill behind the wheel and frequently find high tech driver aides an annoyance or worse a distraction. They know what they like and they like cars designed to enhance the driving experience not dull it.

With 18-years and 155,000 miles on the clock my well maintained 2008 BMW X3 has performed nobly. It owes me nothing. That said, with it being the last BMW SUV with a manual transmission, I wanted more. While it owes me nothing, I have decided I owe it to myself to refresh this excellent ride. If my initial assessment proves valid, I will lay down the money necessary to recondition a sporty and functional vehicle I cannot replace. As I have, now, explained the “why,” the following describes the “what.”

A Winter Rebirth? Deciding Whether to Recondition My Aging Daily Driver

Its bones are quite sound with its solid body, good brakes, fresh tires, new shocks and regular servicing, though I am still on the original clutch after 155,000 miles. My daily driver’s needs reflect traditional flaws endemic to the E83 X3 including valve cover gasket oil leaks, oil filter canister gasket leaks and cooling system plastic part failures. Needless to say, high mileage on the original clutch with the notoriously expensive dual mass flywheel screams for attention. However, simply addressing known problems falls far short of my intentions for this rebirth. I wanted the insight of a specialist with the experience, feel, and passion for the BMW brand. I chose Steve Smith owner of MotorWorks West a BMW-Exclusive specialist in Wyckoff, New Jersey.

Steve, 1-month short of his 32^nd birthday, with a wife and three children stands out as the kind of youthful respected skilled professional that long time car guys fear will be painfully absent in the fast approaching future.

In 2012, with the benefit of a four-year automotive technology apprenticeship program, Steve developed his taste for BMWs while quickly climbing the ladder towards Master Technician at a respected Northern NJ BMW dealership. With his eyes looking ahead to greater things, he built a cash stash by servicing three to four cars a night in his back yard after work.

By 2018 Steve purchased MotorWorks West. His goal focused on creating the ultimate BMW service facility. Steve says, “I resolved that my shop would never be hamstrung by outdated technology. At the outset I invested a ton of money into the latest diagnostic equipment and, today, continue to maintain that edge.”

Steve wants his customers to know and trust the technician working on their car. He promotes clients discussing their car one-on-one with the technician charged with the responsibility of making the repair. He says, “I rely on my customers being happy with their MotorWorks West experience. They should be confident that my technicians are not trying to rip them off.” Steve not only knows what he wants in a technician. He has a clear understanding of who he favors as a customer. Steve wants to build a customer family. In servicing the parents’ BMW he strives to know their children; children who, when old enough to drive, will trust MotorWorks West to service and maintain their BMW. He says, “I don’t try to sell them everything under the Sun.” He points out that me and my X3 are the exception. He says, “You came in wanting everything under the Sun.”

VISUAL INSPECTION

With the bitter January wind howling behind the closing front door, I entered Steve’s well organized and superbly equipped automotive shop featuring a handful of active bays populated with BMWs of varied vintages.

Steve welcomed me with a smile and a meaningful handshake. His office, adorned with BMW racing graphics and models of classic BMWs, left no doubt as to the focus of his considerable technical acumen and passion. With Steve having read my Drivin’ News post “Aging Beloved Daily Driver Quandary: Refresh or Replace” he immediately dove into the challenge at hand. To my pleasant surprise he spent the next few hours conducting a preliminary diagnosis of my X3’s health. He began by scanning for faults. With the codes printed down for reference, he moved on to conduct a thorough visual inspection. Under the hood the engine bay revealed a considerable curtain of oil bleeding down from the valve cover. Engine oil seen pooling around the injectors raised concerns that the oil might have found its way into the cylinder head intake ports. Upon inspection the concern proved proved unwarranted. Moving on to the oil filter canister Steve used a laser pointer to show me where the oil leak had created a condition that would ultimately compromise the serpentine belt. He explained that with the belt shifting noticeably off center on the pulley, little doubt existed that, left unaddressed, the oil weakened belt could shred and be sucked into the front crankshaft seal causing severe damage.

Continuing on, evidence of failing plastic coolant system parts confirmed a need to be addressed. Steve noted that this X3 has a one-piece thermostat built into a plastic housing that frequently goes bad. He indicated that replacement of the radiator loomed in the near future.  He says, “My rule of thumb on this N52 engine is that you do a thermostat and a water pump together and when you do a radiator you do the upper and lower hoses together.”

Opening the power steering fluid container should reveal a fluid with a greenish clear color. Mine showed brown. Steve says, “I’m not a big fan of selling power steering flushes but when I see something like that, let’s get out the old. Replace the fluid to try to just make these parts last longer.” He makes clear that normally as a repair shop; he cannot sell all of these recommendations to one person. However, in my case I requested this level of detail.

With the car on a lift Steve commenced to give high grades for body integrity, brakes, tires and suspension components. Moving towards the front he noted two ground cables worthy of replacement before addressing the issue of the clutch. He noted that, sadly, there exists no effective way to check the clutch without significant labor. Considering the cost I pressed the issue. I understood that, with 155,000 miles on the clutch, a replacement with all the associated parts seemed likely in the not too distant future. That said would there be a cost benefit to do it now before it starts slipping. Steve explained that there exists the possibility that doing it now could produce a significant savings. How so? He says, “Your X3 has a wickedly expensive dual mass flywheel. By the time the clutch gives its first indication of slippage, the flywheel is cooked.” A decision needed to be made.

We moved along with findings being quite positive, until. Until Steve froze me with an order delivered with the authoritative tone of a cardiologist calling out a heart patient washing down a bacon and nacho cheddar hoagie with a Slurpee. Turning towards me while holding the tail end of the front drive shaft, Steve said, “You can’t drive this home.” The U-joint shook with the confidence draining sound of a baby’s rattle. Clearly poised to let loose any moment, the weighty arm’s-length drive shaft would have spun like a savage fan blade at engine speed quickly destroying all in its reach. I chose to have it repaired immediately. He would have it replaced by the next day. Having completed the inspection of issues we could observe, we moved on to the testing for problems that could not be seen.

My go/no-go “Refresh” decision would be predicated upon the results of a battery of tests that measured my X3 engine’s conformity to proper operational specifications and functionality. A strong engine rated as a major factor in making my decision.

COMPRESSION TEST

An engine compression test measures the pressure in each cylinder to evaluate overall engine health. It assesses how well each cylinder seals and holds pressure. This indicates overall engine power and efficiency. Steve explains saying, “We conducted our compression test with the engine hot. All of your pressures were in the 220s. It was like a rate of 20 to 22 24 to 25 across the board between all the cylinders.” Interestingly, while old school shops use a pressure gauge, MotorWorks West performs their compression test using a lab scope and pressure transducer that enables in-depth diagnostics without requiring a full engine disassembly. Steve says, “We read the pressure like a wave form. Every time the engine completes one full revolution, unlike an old school pressure gauge that simply shows a final maximum pressure. Our system creates a printout that details individual cylinder pressure on the way up and the way down for each revolution. I want to see each cylinder enjoy a perfectly smooth up and down wave. If an anomaly appears, I know where to look. It’s just like the EKG you get at your doctor’s office.” Steve summed up the results saying, “For this engine the wave forms looked really great.” Yippee, my engine got a clean bill of health.

LEAKDOWN TEST

Reinforcing the findings of the compression test, the leakdown test checked each cylinder’s ability to hold air pressure. Leakage by way of escaping air can indicate internal engine problems such as bad piston rings, leaking valves, or head gasket issues. In the case of my engine, Steve found the leakage fell well within the acceptable range.

SMOKE TEST: INTAKE SYSTEM

The procedure employs a smoke machine that injects a visible vapor into the engine’s intake system. A technician can then visually inspect for escaping smoke that would indicate leaks in intake hoses, vacuum lines and intake manifold. In the case of MotorWorks West, their smoke machine actually displays a digital number. In the case of my engine the system indicated a leak so large that the display could not even achieve a reading. The cause proved to be a massive leak pouring out of a crack in the valve cover; the valve cover already on the list of intended fixes.

SMOKE TEST: DMTL TEST FOR VAPORIZATION SYSTEM

A DMTL (Diagnosis Module Tank Leakage) smoke test specializes in locating small, hard-to-find leaks in the EVAP (Evaporative Emission Control) system, In this case Steve found that the smoke test revealed absolutely no leakage in the evaporation system.

CRANKCASE PRESSURE TEST

A miserable failure! But wait. This test checks for excessive pressure from blowby due to worn piston rings or issues with the crankcase ventilation system such as a clogged PCV valve. Steve using the lab scope and a pressure transducer had hoped to see a smooth up and down wave form with a maximum reading of around 33 millibar (0.48 PSI). Instead of a wave the readout showed a straight line at 50 millibar (0.73 PSI). This amount of vacuum could actually suck crankshaft seals into the engine. Steve assessed that the malfunction could again be attributed to the cracked valve cover already targeted for replacement.

CONCLUSION

Prefacing my final decision, the subject of parts deserves a bit of attention. For this project only OE (Original Equipment) or OEM (Original Equipment Manufacturer) parts would be used. The difference or lack thereof, merits explanation. The fundamental difference between OE and OEM is branding. OE parts bear the part manufacturer’s name such as Bosch. OEM parts carry the vehicle manufacturer’s name such as BMW. Both are the same part though the one with the manufacturer’s name always costs more. In my humble opinion, especially with German car parts, pricing uses the basic formula of 50% above outrageous. Parts for this project would be OEM or OE with OE being the first and cheaper choice.

With the good bones of my car  confirmed and the issues needing to be addressed and agreed upon with MotorWorks West, I have decided to recondition my 2008 X3. I have provided a budget of $12,000 with a 10% contingency. Unlike an aging beloved family dog, for this family member I believe I can buy a longer life .

With about 155,000 miles on my very clean 2008 BMW X3, my quandary appears to be shared as of late by many fellow car owners of a variety of brands. We find ourselves clinging to a long held daily driver with a passion normally saved for the family dog. Unfortunately we see this beloved vehicle getting quite long in the tooth.

I really like my X3. I mean, really. I have enjoyed multiple BMWs for decades. My E83 X3, sturdy and reliable at 18 years of age offers many appealing features no longer available on comparable contemporary BMW X3s or, for that matter, any other new X3 competitors like the M-B GLC, Audi Q5, Lexus Rx or Volvo XC60. As well, it delightfully lacks many features unavoidable in today’s high priced digitally infected offerings.

However unlike Rex the family dog, a treasured daily driver can have its life extended. In my case my goal would be to add another 50,000 miles of high quality driving. Refresh or replace my X3? That is the question explored in this Drivin’ News post.

Aging Beloved Daily Driver Quandary, Refresh or Replace?

The following paragraph comes with apologies to Julie Andrews: Knobs on my radio, buttons on dashes, shifting a 6-speed for lane changing passes, no need for oil of zero weight grade, this is how my favorite car would be made. Sadly none so equipped can be found anymore and that makes me feel so bad.

I purchased my 2008 X3 in 2017 from the original owner. It had 67,000 miles, a clean Carfax and all service records. It featured BMW’s acclaimed 3.0-liter 260 horsepower N52 naturally aspirated inline-6 coupled to a 6-speed ZF manual transmission. I can attest that my X3 translates the essence of the once renowned BMW driving experience into an SUV. To emphasize that point BMW embraced the descriptor SAV (Sports Activity Vehicle) to highlight the X3’s ability to fuse the practicality, space, and ruggedness of an SUV with the spirited performance, agile handling, and driver-focused feel of its signature sports sedans. BMW’s basing the 2008 X3 architecture on a 3-Series platform confirms that assessment. To quote Edmunds.com, “Given its very athletic personality, calling the 2008 BMW X3 the “3 Series of SUVs” wouldn’t be a stretch.” “Interestingly, of the 17,622 new 2008 X3s sold in America only a very small fraction came with the manual transmission found in mine. Today, locating a clean X3 with a manual transmission ranks as a rare and desirable find.

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.

So, what shakes out when comparing the N52 against BMW’s B48 2.0-liter turbocharged engine introduced in the 2016 BMW X3 and continuing on today? One must consider that the Turbo B48 is quicker, more efficient and far easier to tune to a higher performance level. The downside comes with the complexity that can be associated with forced induction. For me the N52’s smooth, reliable and traditional feel when partnered with the robust ZF 6-speed known for its reliability and precise shifting suits my tastes and needs better. And, Oh yes, my X3 runs well on regular grade gasoline saving roughly one dollar per gallon at fill-up.

Compared to my X3, a new BMW X3 or any in its competitive set would provide for a far more modern vehicle and driving experience in terms of technology and sophistication. However, considering my preference for engagement and the associated simple pleasures enjoyed when behind the wheel when engaged, the character of the new X3 and the like might be off-target for my tastes.

Clearly among the automotive literati and traditional BMW enthusiasts, the 21^st century has found voices expressing considerable concern that BMW has veered from the course set by the brand’s earlier classic models. These voices express a belief that BMW has abandoned its sporting heritage to emphasize an elevated level of luxury and advanced technology in an effort to appeal to a broader consumer base. Indeed such criticisms do resonate with me. Based solely on my driving preferences, the following concerns about the 2025 X3 actually make my 2008 more appealing. Keep in mind the very personal nature of my assessment. BMW by building cars to my tastes would most assuredly bankrupt the brand.

Engagement resides at the heart of the driving experience that defined BMW’s claim to being the Ultimate Driving Machine. Most obviously the new X3 does not come with a manual transmission. Indeed, the new X3’s mandatory electronic 8-speed automatic may shift quicker and smoother than my X3 with me at the controls. However, that absence of the third pedal, for me, succeeds in purging a richly tactile and rewarding enhanced driving experience. Another concern expressed by many focuses on BMW’s Standard electronic power steering (EPS) introduced in the 2014 model year. Though EPS enables seamless integration with driver aids like lane assist, custom steering modes and eliminates the need for hydraulic steering fluid, critics bemoan that it lacks the natural road feel and driver feedback considered a signature feature of the classic Ultimate Driving Machine. Other big problems exist as well.

For my needs the new X3 suffers from the common problem of “biggerness.” Like so many evolving brand models, each generation of X3s has grown. Compared to the 2008 X3 the 2025 X3 has grown 8 inches longer, 3 inches wider and 350 pounds heavier. Moving to the inside of the new X3’s tech-heavy interior one finds a passenger cabin replete with seemingly every application of advanced automotive digital interactive communications technology. While opening myself up to consideration as a borderline Luddite, I say for those who love a total immersion in tech; knock yourself out. For me, I prefer my dashboard to feature an analog interface rather than a sprawling IMAX screen. In scanning the new X3 dashboard, its 14.9-inch center iDrive9 infotainment display features a 12.3-inch fully digital gauge cluster. I find it demands my attention in the event I wish to change my heater setting or turn on the radio. And yes, I know to activate some new X3 functions I can talk to the car with the BMW Intelligent Personal Assistant. I have enough friends thank you. Wow, I am sounding a bit curmudgeonly I must confess. But, hey I just want a car I enjoy driving not a mobile video game.

Tactile friendly latching pushbuttons and knobs feature prominently on my list of dashboard actuators fondly recalled and absent in a new X3. For the latest X3, haptic, capacitance sensing, buttons rule the interface. On the steering wheel and across the center console these touch-sensitive surfaces deprive the driver of the satisfying tactile feedback of an intended action confirmed. While on the subject of cost cutting, road tests and customer feedback offer scathing criticism of the “cheap” and hard plastics employed throughout the interior. To boot, unlike my old X3 the new X3 no longer offers a sunroof that opens.

Other considerations impacting the Refresh or Replace decision include insurance and replacement cost. Presently, insuring my 2008 X3 cost $540 for a 6-month period. I do not have collision or comprehensive with the book value being roughly $2200. Maybe it goes for $5000 retail. With the cost of a low end new X3 30 with sales tax being well over $60,000, my insurance for the 6-month period with comprehensive and collision would be an estimated $2,737. This would make my new X3 insurance 500% of my present insurance or roughly $4,400 more per year. If you have an older car you like and it has good bones it does make you think. And I am thinking enough to move to the next step.

At this point in the Refresh or Replace decision process my honest evaluation of my X3 reveals problems associated with all of the classic 2008 X3 faults including: Valve cover gasket oil leaks, oil filter housing oil leaks and coolant system plastic parts failure. For more professional scrutiny, the next step calls for visiting my longtime trusted and respected BMW specialty shop. Here performance of a few basic tests will indicate the wisdom of pursuing the Refresh. In addition to a thorough visual inspection, a compression test will reveal the presence of any worn piston rings or leaky valves. A leak-down test will pinpoint with pressurized air the exact location of any power sapping engine problem. The compression test is a quick check to see if a cylinder’s compression is low while a leak-down test is more diagnostic, revealing the fault causing the low compression. Finally a smoke test injects smoke into a sealed engine intake system. Any escaping smoke pinpoints leaks from cracks, loose hoses, compromised vacuum lines or faulty gaskets.

So I stand poised at the precipice. With the goal of an additional 50,000 miles of high quality personal driving pleasure do I invest considerable dollars that I will never recoup whether sold or, God forbid, totaled? Clearly plowing money into a car with eighteen years and 155,000 miles on the clock will not address every component subject to failure. That said we are not talking a Chevy Vega here. This is the product of a proud design and manufacturing culture when it boasted products where 200,000 even 300,000 miles did not peg the exceptional performance needle. I am confident my 2008 BMW E83 X3 boasts the bones to be worthy of the effort. That assumes the preliminary inspection supports my confidence.

When they no longer make the car you love, does it make sense to love the car you have got. While the Beatles sang “Can’t buy me love,” applying to hearts, it may not hold true for cars. At least I intend to find out.

STAY TUNED IN THE COMING WEEKS FOR PART TWO “MAKING THE DECISION.”

Likely the only car event of its kind in the nation, the second annual Collectible Car Fair for Kids and Teens kicked off on Sunday September 21^st in Park Ridge, New Jersey. Once again students 18 and under could get up close and personal with automotive history from behind the wheel of landmark vintage cars spanning the 20^th century.

One-of-a-Kind Car Show for Kids

Guaranteed, the likes of this handsome white time machine had not traveled this suburban street in close to 100 years. Chugging proudly down the tree lined lane it serenaded the surrounding neighborhood with a deep throated rumbling mechanical chorus common in an earlier century. This 1908 Brass Era Pope/Hartford automobile made a striking entry onto the show field to take its place next to a 1903 Curved Dash Oldsmobile. Much like the Dawn Parade at the Amelia Island Concours, the crisp early morning light showcased an eclectic array of milestone vintage cars as they arrived.

To spark interest in a younger generation in advance of the show, local school systems were lobbied. The effort succeeded in generating the opportunity to deliver a presentation to middle school students on the significance and excitement of vintage automobiles. The effort’s intent resided in motivating children to take advantage of the coming event to experience historic vehicles first hand. In so doing they could better appreciate the character, beauty, and excitement of the iconic vehicles that revolutionized individual lives and forever changed global culture in the 20^th century. The effort proved successful.

In addition to the Oldsmobile and Pope/Hartford, the curated field of 30 milestone cars included a 1915 Ford Model T, 1929 Ford Model A, 1934 Packard, 1943 Willys Jeep, 1956 Cadillac Coupe deVille, 1957 MGA, 1963 Porsche 356, 1965 Ford Mustang, 1967 VW Beetle, 1970 Pontiac GTO, 1982 Ferrari 308GTSi, 1983 DeLorean, 1988 BMW E30M, and 1996 Dodge Viper.

Offering far more than a passive viewing experience, the event provided children who registered in advance the opportunity to learn the basics of judging classic cars. The class, conducted on-site the morning of the show, was taught by experienced concours judge and past Director of the Rolls-Royce Owners’ Club, Bob Austin. Students, benefiting from Austin’s decades as an automotive industry icon, worked with techniques for assessing automobiles revered as generational standouts that propelled design and engineering into the future. With class work completed, students immediately would put their freshly acquired knowledge to work by judging the cars on display.

A primary interactive feature of the show and considered by many as the secret sauce for facilitating student involvement, the “Fun Hunt for Car Facts” challenged all comers with an information scavenger hunt. Centered on car specific questions, this 20-question quiz encouraged children to interact with the classic cars on display and the car owners.

The presence of Mr. Jeff Mason, President of the non-profit Piston Foundation offered special benefit for high school age attendees and parents. Mr. Mason was there to discuss scholarship opportunities and apprenticeship programs in fields related to classic car restoration. The Piston Foundations stated mission is to bring more people into the collector car industry and help them build rewarding, successful careers.

By 8:30 am the show field had taken shape with cars arranged around a central array consisting of the Oldsmobile, Pope/Hartford, Model T, Cadillac Coupe deVille and 1956 Continental MkII. The site offered excellent spacing for students to view, photograph and sit in all vehicles. And a wealth of viewing, photographing and sitting would take place.

By 9:00 am the judging class participants had taken their seats. 9:30 am saw the service window of the Pop Empanada food truck rattle open freeing mouth watering smells to perfume the air. 10:00 am show time, the display field came alive. For me, a most rewarding experience presented itself when a child approached with an adult in tow. Yes adult in tow, I mean that and not the other way around. Each adult, a parent, would introduce themselves and explain that their child had attended my presentation and insisted on being here. Parents expressed delight at the opportunity to share an experience driven by their child’s curiosity. And curiosity of young minds fueled the high energy character of the event. Fertile imaginations inspired by new experiences seized opportunities to create adventures of their own.

With the show running from 10 am to 2 pm, 11:00 am found the children darting about the show field like bees in a flower patch.Newly minted judges with clip boards circled individual cars as they studiously carried out their judging responsibilities. Mostly grouped in twos or threes, children clutching pens and answer sheets crisscrossed the open field in an honest quest to discover answers. By day’s end Over 50 students got all 20 questions right to earn the Collectible Car Fair “Genius” badge.

At 11:00 am with the energy of the crowd setting a nice vibe, it seemed a good time for the national anthem. The previous week I had attended a car show and with the singing of the national anthem, I commented to myself that this rendition certainly ranked as one of the finer recordings I had heard. It was then that I glanced at the A-V tent and saw that a young woman was delivering the anthem live. She was great. After that show a town official asked if I would like her to sing at the Collectible Car Fair. Absolutely! A week later, on the show field poised with the microphone in her hand, the A-V tech informed her that no music was available to accompany her. Her response, “All good, I’ll do it a cappella.” She nailed it. A big shout out goes to songstress Viana Harley, a student at Park Ridge High School.

Now with the event in full swing, I watched a bevy of students drawn to the Model T. Sitting tall and proud children fired questions at Glenn, the knowledgeable owner. They found the need for a hand crank start especially fascinating and the squeeze bulb horn proved irresistible. My Corvette drew admirers but my favorite asked if he could sit in it. Once in, he gripped the wheel with both hands and made the best “I am doing 100 mph and loving it” face. Interestingly a major source of comment in the Corvette was the dashboard mounted location of the rearview mirror.

Whether a VW Beetle, Porsche 911, Chevrolet Greenbrier or Corvair Corsa, the rear engine air cooled configuration drew significant attention. Actual more attention grabbing than the engine in the rear, was that lifting the hood revealed no engine in the front.

The 1958 Isetta with it unusual front opening driver’s door, the DeLorean with its gullwing doors and Doc Brown connection, and the Mini because of its, well, Mini-ness all drew much attention for their quirkiness. Plum Crazy drew rave reviews from those for whom color mattered.

As the day moved on the tabulation of the results from our battery of rookie judges came in with admirable results. They performedextremely well considering the stiff challenge presented by the very broad field of cars they faced. Apparently Chief Judge Bob Austin had a bright class with whom to work. At that point all of the young judges received a certificate of accomplishment before Bob announced the judging tally.

Group 1 – The Early Years

1^st – 1956 Continental MK II

2^nd – 1915 Ford Model T

3^rd – 1956 Cadillac Coupe DeVille

Group 2 – The Swinging 60s

1^st – 1956 Chevrolet Corvair Corsa

2^nd – 1965 Mustang

3^rd – 1961 Corvette

Group 3 – Cars that Defined the Driver

1^st – BMW 850CSi

2^nd – 1996 Dodge Viper

3^rd – 1988 BMW E30M

With all attendees now gone and a hot sun still high in the sky, car owners and event volunteers convened one last time before slowly gathering themselves in preparation to depart. All there shared smiles and stories derived from the day’s events. All agreed that it was worth it.

Interactive classic car events such as the “Collectible Car Fair for Kids and Teens” represent the extension of a critical lifeline to a future clearly in question. Will tomorrow enjoy a healthy collector car experience? Will our passion transfer to our progeny? The answer resides in what we do today to invite and entice the future to share our joy.

Unfortunately, I have found that some collector car gatherings are a sedentary affair with too many guys my age circled like covered wagons in lawn chairs and shooing kids away from the cars. At this point in time such a defensive mindset serves to “protect” the future from embracing what we love. We as car enthusiasts derive our passion from experiencing our cars. To quote Dr. Fred Simeone, “The greatest gift of the Industrial Age is the automobile.” It is imperative that we share our passion with the generations to come. Unfortunately, many among us view that thought with trepidation.

Possessing a rightful concern that kids will damage a treasured car can inspire a certain protective instinct. Having worked the big new car shows such as the New York Auto Show, I know the damage inflicted by bad kids with evil intent. That unsupervised environment differs profoundly from the local events most of us populate. Experience from Collectible Car Fairs 1 and 2 has shown kids to be respectful and appreciative. Do they need to be monitored? Yes. They may not know how to interact with a classic car. That is certainly something we as car enthusiasts can share in a friendly manner. For my 2 Collectible Car Fairs and the Autism event described in the last Drivin News story (Classic Autos and Autism, A Shared Journey to Betterment) I have brought the 1961 Corvette that I have had since 1967. After 50 years of ownership, I conducted a major restoration. It has been featured in Hemmings publication Muscle Machines. I am very protective. I have also realized my greatest gift as an automobile enthusiast is to employ my car as a vehicle (Double meaning intended) to engage those who will carry on my passion when their turn arrives.

ADDITIONAL PHOTOS BELOW

Images Courtesy of Burton Hall and Keli Dougherty

The coldest winter in memory had clamped a frozen grip upon all life in Estonia. Mihkel while battling the bitter cold knew that the record cold would ironically be the key to his plan’s success. The following morning in pitch darkness he, accompanied by his son Jack, would depart the Royale’s hiding place. From there they would drive the it across the frozen edge of the nearby Gulf of Finland with his sights on reaching Finland and freedom. Through all of this Mihkel knew his journey would be haunted by a well connected Soviet army officer obsessed with having the Royale for his own.

FINAL EPISODE – In Search of the Lost 7^th Royale Part 3 (Episode 20 – A Snowball’s Chance)

Soviet Icebreaker “The Lenin”

ESTONIA 1987

Petrov felt in his bones the Super Auto hiding somewhere near Neeme. He just had to get back to that desolate village. His intuition rewarded him. What he found set his Super Auto passion on fire. It also befuddled him. Right in front of him, fresh tracks in the snow. First tank tread tracks, then marks of tires with snow chains. Maddeningly he realized it had just been there. His mind raced with “how could this be?” themed thoughts. He also realized the “why” did not matter if he located the “what”. He followed the tire marks to the edge of the Gulf. He scream out loud and to no one in particular, “This is crazy.” Then, in the distance he saw it. A spot of light. He jumped in the car and together with the three soldiers attempted to chase the dot of light. Immediately the car just spun like a top.

Soviet MiG-23

Now, acting like a wild man, a frantic Petrov had the soldiers push the sedan back towards the shore. In a comic scene the soldiers slipped and fell and pushed as, all the while, Petrov screamed. Finally the car gained traction at the shore line. With frozen soldiers shivering in the car, Petrov raced back to the house of Peeter Oja. Banging on the door he demanded entry to use Peeter’s phone. Having lost control of his better judgment, he pulled every string he had. He called in every favor owed him and mentioned every story that someone did not want told. He woke his friend the admiral together with the admiral’s girlfriend. Petrov passionately sold him on an opportunity to do something big and get the promotion the admiral so richly deserved. All the admiral had to do was order a plane to bomb the ice to stop an “enemy of the people” from escaping across the frozen Gulf of Finland. Unfortunately, the admiral, half in a sleepy fog with the young woman snuggled on his chest, advised Petrov that a dangerously low ceiling had grounded all flights. “Damn it,” screamed Petrov, “Send an ice breaker and cut him off.” “Interesting,” replied the awakening admiral. “And who is this enemy of the people?” Trust me pleaded Petrov, “You will be famous.” “Okay Yuri, replied the sleepy admiral, “I have a husky older ice breaker ‘”The Lenin”’ close by. I can send it.” Pleased with his success, Petrov set about assembling the men and resources needed to retrieve “his” Super Auto. By now, Petrov had lost any command of rational thinking. He had become Captain Ahab and the Bugatti his white whale.

GULF OF FINLAND 1987

An ominous cracking sound emanating from the ice beneath the Bugatti’s chain wrapped tires sent shivers through their spines. Mihkel and Jack comforted themselves by noting that cracking did not necessarily mean breaking through. The words “I hope” went unspoken. Mihkel drove at a slow deliberate pace. In light of the dense cloud cover and barren landscape, navigation had to rely solely on Mihkel’s and Jack’s orienteering skills, which were considerable. Jack, armed with his compass and map applied his best “Kentucky Windage” to charting a path to a shore line in some part of the free world.

For Mihkel, vivid memories of his beloved and noble dog team and his escape across this same frozen expanse in the bitter winter of 1940 flooded back. At times the triumphant recollections of the past adventure overshadowed the very real and deep concerns presented by the present one. A kind of calm conviction had fallen over both father and son; Or it might better be described as a fatigued numbness born of the months of relentless emotional strain and, now, the inevitability of a fast approaching conclusion. However mixed their emotions, their focus never departed from the challenge of successfully traversing this frozen desert of ice. Then they saw it.

In the distance, a hulking Soviet ice breaker named “The Lenin” haltingly smashed the unusually thick Gulf of Finland ice as it plowed across from the east with its spotlights slicing the darkness as it scanned its surroundings. Continuing on its present course it would cleave the line Jack had plotted for the Royale’s escape route. The Lenin, a 440-ft. nuclear powered ice breaker usually patrolled the arctic ice that presented greater challenges than the normally more moderate ice cover in the Gulf of Finland. For a number of years it had been the pride of the Soviet Northern Fleet. However, chance would find The Lenin in the Gulf and, now, it towered as a powerful force determined to frustrate Mihkel’s plan. Clearly, It would be a race, plain and simple. Mihkel had to pass to the west of the ice crushing Soviet juggernaut before it cut a channel preventing his escape to Finland and freedom.

Mihkel could not safely increase his speed considering the enveloping darkness, the limited range of his spotlights and the frequent irregularities in the ice surface that needed to be avoided. Worse, it seemed impossible that the Soviet ship had not yet sighted the running lights of the Royale. Locating the escaping “enemy of the people” would considerably improve the Soviet ship’s ability to plot an optimal interception course. Mihkel observed that the attack angle of the ice breaker had changed to shorten the distance that the ship would have to travel to cut off their escape. With their chances for success clearly diminishing, both Mihkel and Jack felt the time had come to break radio silence. Jack reached for the Nokia mobile phone. He punched in Valentina’s number. She picked up on the first ring. Jack as calmly as possible briefed her on their situation. Clearly the ice breaker had been a game changer. He let her know their intended course had not changed from what they discussed when planning, but now everything had become fluid. Suddenly the phone signal started to break up. The Soviets had been listening in and had heard enough. Valentina’s voice signal deteriorated into incomprehensible static. The Soviets had succeeded in jamming the signal leaving father and son truly on their own. With no other option, Mihkel continued on the course Jack had plotted.

As the great ship loomed ever larger, its searchlights swept ever closer towards the point where it would pass across the Royale’s path. Then it happened. A great rift in the ice opened up ahead of the Royale. Like a crack in a windshield it literally ran across Mihkel’s field of vision from east to west. Spanning the distance from the icebreaker’s bow it cut off any path to Finland. “Game, set, match,” observed Jack with dejected resignation.

Just then an odd sound came from the Royale’s dashboard. “What the hell is that?” snapped Mihkel. With a bemused incredulity Jack responded, “I think it’s the police phone.” Jack remembered Viktor’s fascination with it. Jack recalled considering whoever outfitted this car in the late 1930s had really thought of everything, but then gave it no more thought. Jack picked up the hand set and heard Valentina’s voice. No time to explain she instructed. Jack gave a quick update describing how the Soviet ice breaker had cut off their escape. Basically he and Mihkel had run out of options. Valentina replied, “I disagree.” She continued saying, “Do you have your lights on.” Jack ever the wise-ass responded, “You bet we do. Wouldn’t want that big Soviet ice breaker to miss us.” Valentina continued saying, “Do you have a flashlight?” “Yes,” answered Jack. Valentina with the conviction of a drill instructor said, “I know it is brutally cold but stand outside and, shortly, you will hear something coming toward you. Just wave your flashlight at it. No questions. Just do it. Trust me.”

Jack stepped outside. In a few bitingly cold moments he heard a loud rhythmic sound coming in low and fast. Looking towards Mihkel, Jack uttered in disbelief, “Jesus.” Stirring up a bone chilling swirling storm of snow a Sikorsky Super Stallion heavy-lift helicopter hovered, then, it set down a short distance from the Royale. Sliding back the cockpit window Ed “Wonderfalk” Sikes yelled to hook up the car as the helicopter’s side door opened and John Taylor brought out rigging cables. The biting cold made it too difficult and painful to talk. Talking could wait. Jack knew exactly what to do. This Bugatti had been designed with four jack points to facilitate rapid tire changes during a race. Each jack point consisted of a 10-inch long high strength steel bar attached between two gusseted chassis mounts. With a cable affixed to each of the four jack points everybody scrambled on board except Jack. He remained on the ground to make sure the load hung properly. With the grace of an Olympic gymnast the Super Stallion with Wonderfalk at the controls lifted the Bugatti. With the Royal suspended from the cables and hanging flat and steady a few feet off the ground, John tossed down a rope ladder which Jack climbed. Now sealed up and airborne the big chopper turned north and, with its priceless cargo firmly secured, headed across the frozen international waters towards Finland and freedom.

ESTONIA 1987

“What? What helicopter? Shoot it down! No, don’t shoot it down! No, Shoot it down!” spit flew out of Petrov’s mouth onto the mouthpiece as he screamed uncontrollably into the phone at the admiral.

Ripped from the joy of arranging the capture of these pirates absconding with his Bugatti, Petrov could not believe some helicopter had snatched away this treasure from closing grasp. He fumed. While he bellowed at no one in particular, he stood amidst the Soviet Army detail assigned to him. He drew numerous uncomfortable glances as he ranted saying, “Our planes are grounded yet some “Buck-a-roo” zooms in under our noses and snatches this prize. What kind of cowardly Soviet pilots do we have who fear a few clouds?” Soldiers in his detail, first imperceptibly then more obviously, began putting distance between themselves and Petrov.

FINLAND 1987

As a bottle of brandy circulated through the helicopter warming faces  produced the jubilation of great victories and the raucous laughter born of death defied. Naali, the Arctic Fox, and Wonderfalk, clearly, had added to their legends. Shortly the coast of Finland came into view greeted by the hearty cheers of all on board. Suddenly the helicopter slowed to a hover. A forest clearing came into view. Out from the woods emerged a large truck with a canvas topped bed. Four men jumped out of the truck, pulled back the canvas cover and removed the metal ribs that supported the canvas. Wonderfalk skillfully hovered above the truck. He positioned the Bugatti squarely over the truck’s bed. Then, like placing a baby on a blanket he gently lowered the 7^th Bugatti Royale onto the truck where the four men each released one of the cables. Then Mihkel, Jack and John quickly hauled in the cables and by the time the chopper had turned to leave, the truck had disappeared.

After a matter of minutes, the helicopter with Wonderfalk at the controls approached the far end of a quiet snow topped meadow. Once there he put down near a waiting car. John Taylor directed Mihkel and Jack out of the helicopter to the car where Valentina waited. With a quick exchange of warm hugs mixed with Valentina’s tears the three departed quickly with Valentina at the wheel. She explained that all would meet up after Ed had returned the helicopter to the Finish National Geological Survey facility upon completing John Taylor’s “government approved” aerial review of various geological features.

After driving through a forest to the end of a meandering country road, they pulled up to a small but handsome stone cottage. It belonged to a retired General in the Finish Defense Forces. The General’s service to his country dated back to the Winter War of 1939 to 1940. From firsthand experience the General held Mihkel and Ed in the highest regard. Nothing would be too much to ask if requested by the legendary Wonderfalk and Naali, The Arctic Fox. Like the General, a legion of senior and influential members of Finish society felt the same way about Mihkel and Ed. That deep reverence had helped facilitate the favorable and expeditious treatment of a number of accommodations made in the name of Wonderfalk and the Arctic Fox. The availability of a heavy lift helicopter, the off-loading and disappearance of an unregistered car flown onto Finish soil and confirmation of Mihkel’s and Jack’s legal entry into Finland represented but three examples.

The five co-conspirators; Mihkel, Ed, Jack, Valentina and John seated near a very warm and welcoming fire in the cozy cottage, hosted a recounting of everyone’s role in the Great Escape. Stories of heroism, close calls and lucky breaks filled the air like a dense flock of birds. The magnificent cooperation of their valiant Estonian and Finish co-conspiratorial accomplices, some free some not, resided at the heart of much of the retelling.

Amidst the exhaustion and exhilaration reality slapped Jack in the face.  “Where’s the car?” Jack bellowed.  Ed’s response froze all in stunned silence. “I doubt you’ll ever see it again,” said Ed. “What?” they responded as one. “I sold it,” said Ed, suddenly assuming his persona as the savvy classic car broker. The room dithered like a bee hive that had lost its queen. Ed continued explaining, “I reached out to two quite secretive Swiss car collectors, brothers actually, with a passion for Bugattis and anonymity. Quite an appealing combination I thought considering our circumstances. I had dealt with them previously. Anyway, as I suspected, Hans and Fritz, their last name is Schlumpf, jumped at the chance.” Ed continued, having correctly read the troubled looks swirling about the room, “What you have achieved has been a great accomplishment but the challenge of selling a car, one that, let’s be honest, has been pilfered from behind the Iron Curtain, is fraught with many serious problems. Some involve the authorities who despite how much Mihkel is loved and respected, may not view this situation in the kindest of lights. Selling to the Schlumpfs eliminated all of these potential problems.” After a painful silence Mihkel spoke, “I have and continue to trust Ed with my life. Whatever he has done I support. My goal has been to contribute to my father’s dream of creating a technical trade school in a free Estonia. I hope this will help. How did we do?” Ed responded by explaining that the Schlumpfs were known as shrewd negotiators. He explained how they knew well the precarious situation in which his client, Mihkel, found himself. He added that the Schlumpfs, who had lost their Bugatti collection, desperately wanted this car and the secrecy that surrounded it. So Ed said, “We settled on a price that we agreed would be fair to both sides.” Ed paused for effect. He then said, “How does $8.5 million sound.” Outside the cottage a sudden explosion of screams and joyous laughter echoed through the otherwise silent snow trimmed woods. A startled Siberian Jay took flight from a nearby tree.

EPILOGUE

MOSCOW 1987 – The Soviet Union denied published reports of a maritime incident in the frozen Gulf of Finland during the “Big Freeze” OF 1987.

MOSCOW 1988 – Intense and classified scrutiny by the badly embarrassed Soviet Politburo focused on what had internally been described as unauthorized use of the People’s ice breaker “Lenin.” The admiral responsible received the significant amount of intention that he craved; unfortunately, all of it bad. He was subjected to a humiliating demotion which could have been far worse. However, he defended himself by declaring to have been following the directions of Colonel Yuri Petrov who claimed to be speaking on behalf of the Soviet KGB hierarchy.

SIBERIA 1988 – Colonel Yuri Petrov was reinstated into active duty in the Red Army. Assigned to the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs, he would oversee troops guarding the Northeastern Siberian labor camps. He would do so until the collapse of the Soviet Union 1n 1991.

ESTONIA 1991 – Estonia departs the Soviet Bloc to become a free and independent nation.

FINLAND 1992 – Because of their past financial problems and fear of the Royale’s seizure by the French Government, the Schlumpf brothers hid their newly acquired 7^th Royale at an isolated location in Finland known only to them. Hans Died in 1989. Fritz died in 1992. Neither brother ever revealed the location of the Royale. To this day no one knows of its location. That remains a story to be told another day.

ESTONIA 1993 – Mihkel Oja together with his wife Beth and son Jack were joined by Valentina and John Taylor and Ed “Wonderfalk” Sikes for the ribbon cutting to open the OJA Technical Training Institute in Tallinn. Viktor Karmään was announced as its Director.

© Copyright 2023 Burton Hall

With the this the conclusion of the “The Lost 7th Royale,” I would greatly appreciate any and all comments as to the quality of its content and its ability to hold your interest.

Mihkel refused to accept defeat. He committed himself to selling the Bugatti in the non-communist world of the West. His goal being to fund an Estonian technical school honoring his parent’s name. To succeed, he would resort to a new plan that called for revisiting an old solution. Confronted by an extraordinarily bitter Baltic winter, Mihkel recognized a rare opportunity. He would take advantage of the severe cold by driving the Bugatti to Finland and freedom across a frozen Gulf of Finland. With the mechanically revitalized Bugatti now stashed in an isolated fishing village by the edge of the frozen Gulf, Mihkel stood poised to face the greatest challenge of his life. Certainly he had no intention of allowing some corrupt Soviet military officer to stop him.

In Search of the Lost 7^th Royale (Part 3, Episode 19 – Frozen Freeway to Freedom

ESTONIA 1987, JANUARY 9th

An hour after learning of a possible sighting of the mystery Bugatti, a frenzied Yuri Petrov hustled to a waiting military vehicle joined by three Soviet soldiers. “Go, go, go,” snapped Petrov. Leaving Tallin, they headed for the eastern part of Harju County to where the informant had reported seeing the big fancy car. Here deep in Estonian winter the sun would set at 15:45. Petrov hoped to get there before dark. His driver had his doubts.

FINLAND 1987,  JANUARY 9th

Before departing for Helsinki Valentina had been thoroughly briefed by Mihkel. She knew he intended for the Bugatti to depart in darkness on the morning of the 10^th. She felt greatly relieved that her husband John had equipped them with a Nokia Cityman 450 mobile phone. She did not understand much about these newly introduced portable phones, but she felt greatly relieved that Mihkel had one. The thought that there might be a way to communicate with them during the Great Escape comforted her.

Ed “Wonderfalk” Sikes had arrived well over a week ago. He immediately endeared himself as if a distant but beloved family member. She somehow wanted to call him Uncle Ed. She found great solace in his warmth, confidence and abilities. As a diplomat Valentina had experience with many powerful people. Somehow “Wonderfalk” seemed different. With her diplomatic experience, she marveled at how he managed his global connections like a chess master skillfully moving pieces; sometimes calmly, other times aggressively but always with a plan. With a magician’s ease, he seemed capable of making doors magically open. Soon it would not be a door that challenged him but an Iron Curtain.

ESTONIA 1987, JANUARY 9th

Considering the flimsy fabric of any realistic expectations of success, all preparations had been completed to the degree possible. Tomorrow would be the day. The sight of a low thick cloud cover over the frozen Gulf of Finland heartened Mihkel. Thankfully Salamander space heaters had been brought to warm the small warehouse concealing the stashed Bugatti. The Royale, now calmly idling, stood fully prepped. Tomorrow morning Jack intended to have it at operating temperature and ready by 6:00am. Here in the far north daylight would arrive at 9:18 in the morning. Mihkel estimated the distance across the Gulf to be roughly 60 miles. How long would it take? Hopefully less than the three hours when dawn would arrive, but no one really knew. Mihkel and Jack would be together in the Royale. Reminiscent of the early pre-WWII days of auto racing, Mihkel would drive and Jack would be the riding mechanic.

Thiokol Snow Cat

Viktor, driving the Thiokol 601 would clear the way to the Gulf’s frozen edge. He, then, would return to Eesti Energia to return the borrowed equipment. At that point committed to reaching the distant shore Mihkel, Jack and the beautiful beast would be on their own. For enhanced visibility, 12-volt spotlights had been affixed on the front of the Bugatti. The Nokia Cityman 450 mobile phone would be in the Bugatti. Viktor looking at the Bugatti’s 1938 police phone joked that if Mihkel and Jack needed help they could always call the police. Interestingly, a while back Viktor during a rare break from resurrecting the Royale had taken the opportunity to mention the police phone in the car to John Taylor. Viktor found it fascinating that cars in the 1930s could have 2-way communication. While technology had moved on he believed that that police phone could still communicate with someone using a shortwave radio dialed to around 3 Megahertz. Geologist John had a mind that liked science and numbers. He never forgot that discussion.

The approaching afternoon darkness muted the fading daylight of the frigid January 9^th. All that could be done had been done. Jack had just shut down the Bugatti when everyone heard a car pull up. A car door opened. A voice called out. At the front door of the nearby house, the owner of the warehouse could be heard responding. The owner, Peeter Oja, an older Oja family member and great admirer of Mihkel, had been pleased to contribute the use of his warehouse to what he viewed as Mihkel’s patriotic effort.

A man speaking in Russian with a commanding tone, identified himself as a Colonel Petrov. Despite his best efforts to intimidate the old man, Petrov experienced no success in communicating with Peeter. Peeter understood Russian but, apparently, had chosen not to in this instance. Meanwhile peeking through a crack in the warehouse wall, Viktor saw four men in uniforms standing by the four open doors of the car. He gasped upon recognizing the one speaking and clearly in charge. It was the Soviet officer he had misdirected at the train station. He felt a chill; one that had nothing to do with the sub-zero temperature.

Frustrated with the stupid Estonian who did not understand the language of his Russian occupiers, the officer called upon one of his accompanying soldiers, an Estonian who spoke Russian, to translate. Like a schoolyard bully the soldier gruffly demanded to know if the old man had seen any unusual activity involving a big fancy car. The normally sharp Peeter, acted confused, even baffled by the questions. He deferentially apologized for his inability to help. Finally, Petrov, clearly frustrated and with the sun setting, said he would return tomorrow. Four doors could be heard shutting. The sedan spun its tires in the loose slippery gravel and pulled away from the village heading in the direction of Tallinn. Peeter shuffling past a warehouse window cast a sly and knowing smile to those inside. Relieved but alarmed, Mihkel, Jack and Viktor knew they had to be long gone by tomorrow morning.

Shortly after departing Neeme and while passing the residence of the informant, Petrov decided he did not like the idea of traveling the distance back to Tallinn. He sensed that he should not leave: that his Super Auto lay hidden somewhere within his grasp. No, he would not return to Tallinn. He would honor the local informant responsible for sighting the car by allowing him to house Petrov and his soldiers for the evening.

ESTONIA 1987, JANUARY 10^th

The three awoke to an outside temperature of -24°F. Luckily their parkas, sleeping bags and the space heaters made the little sleep they got sufficiently comfortable. Looking out a soiled window Mihkel, upon seeing a very low hanging sky, nodded to himself. Then offering his comrades a clenched lipped half-smile, set about explaining how the low ceiling would be their friend. Viktor, ever the eager student, had asked Mihkel why the low sky pleased should please them.

Mihkel described how a low cloud ceiling over the Gulf of Finland can be thick enough to interfere with radar. As well, such a low cloud cover especially when combined with a deep freeze could seriously degrade flying conditions much to the benefit of their Royale’s Great Escape. The low temperature would likely mean that all military aircraft concerned about icing on the wings would be grounded and anything in the air could never see through the dense cloud cover. In all, winter weather conditions producing seriously impaired radar tracking and grounded military aircraft would significantly improve their chances for success. To be more specific Mihkel comforted the team saying, “Now, we do have a snow ball’s chance in hell.” Michael laughed heartily and warmly cuffed a clearly concerned Viktor on the shoulder.

Serenaded by the throaty rumble of the idling and, now, warmed Royale the three completed a breakfast consisting of cold sandwiches and hot coffee. As Jack opened the carburetor choke, the engine smoothed out. The resulting transition of the massive 12.7-liter engine’s note to a brutish hum seemed to signal a call to action. With Peeter joining in, handshakes and hugs prefaced everyone’s retreat to their stations: Viktor to the Snow Cat. Mihkel and Jack to the Royale and Peeter to clearing his warehouse of any telltale debris.

Petrov had barely slept. His watch showed 5:30 am. Though black as the dead of night, 5:30 found him shuffling about while mustering a cup of coffee. The house offered nary a sound save for the light snoring of one of the soldiers. “How wretchedly bitter,” Petrov mused as he looked into the empty blackness.”

Viktor, his face illuminated by the Snow Cat instrument cluster, lead the way into the pitch darkness of the early morning. The Snow Cat’s bright headlamps and rooftop spotlights carved a tunnel of light ending at the surrounding desolate forest in the distance. Elderly Peeter, his breath billowing like a cloud encircling his weather lined face stood at the open warehouse door as the Royale eased out like a great ship departing port. Accompanying the movement of this grand Bugatti like some great mechanical musical instrument, the snow chains wrapped about each tire accompanied each rotation with a husky rhythmic rattle, clink and clatter. Mihkel in pulling out had just begun to get a feel for the Royale. On the light dusting of fine snow, the brutish torque of the engine spun the wheels and threw a chain free. Mihkel gunned the engine in frustration and hopped out of the car together with Jack to ensure once and for all the chains would remain in place. The lights of the Snow Cat bathed the big Bugatti in welcome illumination as Mihkel and Jack labored in the cruel cold.

Petrov’s head snapped to alert, his right side ear tilted up as if to enhance its acuity. “Did you hear that?” barked a wide eyed Petrov. All in the kitchen, each muddled in a post sleep fog, expressed a variant of the same response, “hear what?” “Shut up and listen, do you hear it?” bellowed Petrov. And they did. The sound clearly emanated from a serious engine. Petrov knew it had to be the racing engine of a great Bugatti. “Get dressed. Get dressed. Let’s go. Let’s go!” yelled a frantic Petrov. For Petrov, moments that seemed like hours dragged by as the young soldiers hustled to depart. One of the soldiers and been smart enough to leave their car running over night. They stumbled through the light snow cover and fumbled with their thick gloves and clumsy door handles. One of the doors seemed frozen. Petrov near apoplectic shoved both soldiers in through the one operative rear door. They headed north towards Neeme.

Their frigidly painful task completed, Mihkel and Jack knew the snow chains could now be trusted. Mihkel, as well, with greater respect for the Bugatti’s power, eased in behind the Snow Cat. The sound of the Snow Cat’s tank treads together with the Bugatti’s huge V8 driven chain wrapped wheels made what Mihkel acknowledged as one God awful noise. He crossed himself and prayed that the “The Good Lord” would keep the cloud cover low and dense.

Viktor nosed up to the edge of the frozen Gulf and backed off to make room for the Bugatti. Viktor, Mihkel and Jack exchanged waves and thumbs up. They did not dare to leave their vehicles. They had said enough goodbyes. Mihkel eased the beautiful beast onto the ice. His concern for controlling the Bugatti on such a hazardous surface caused Mihkel to move slowly and deliberately. He would most likely remain in second gear for greater control. While staying in the lower gear might consume more fuel, Mihkel and Jack agreed that the Bugatti’s full 200-liter gas tank would hopefully eliminate fuel as a concern.

Viktor choked up as he watched the two greatest men he had ever known slowly disappear into a frozen unknown. As much as he just wanted to watch their journey for as long as possible, he knew he should leave immediately lest Communist soldiers who had not been bribed come by on patrol. As a snow had started to fall and cover his tracks, Viktor chose to take a longer path back before returning to the main road. While approaching a clearing where in daylight Peeter Oja’s old warehouse could be seen, Viktor caught the flash of an approaching car’s headlights in the far distance. Unsure as to who would be out here in the early morning, he turned his lights off, shut down the Snow Cat and waited silently in the dark.

© Copyright 2023 Burton Hall

THE CONCLUDING EPISODE OF THE LOST 7^TH ROYALE WILL BE PUBLISHED ON JULY 1. I AM GOING TO ITALY FOR THE MILLE MIGLIA:)

Though discovered and freed from its 45-year confinement in Jaak Oja’s barn in rural Estonia, the fabulous last 7^th Bugatti Royale remained a captive behind the Soviet Iron Curtain. Mihkel Oja’s plan to spirit away this long lost treasure, had been dashed. Colonel Yuri Petrov a high ranking and highly connected Soviet army officer had stumbled upon the Bugatti’s existence. Petrov, like his mentor, past Soviet Premier Leonid Brehznev, enjoyed a very uncommunist-like passion for exotic cars. Petrov by following the Bugatti’s trail to Estonia had unknowingly foiled Mihkel’s plan to surreptitiously ship the car out of the country. Now, with a harsh winter fast approaching and the team’s legitimate window for leaving Estonia quickly closing and the mounting threat of discovery by communist authorities, Mihkel had to act now or never.

In Search of the Lost 7^th Royale Part 3 (Episode 18 – End Game)

ESTONIA, 1986

St. Lucia’s Day 1986 found Mihkel, in looking ahead, recognizing an oncoming weather pattern. He had seen it once before in the cruel winter of early 1940. Only this time the signs portended an even more brutally punishing Arctic freeze. In light of this observation, he had an idea. Mihkel’s Plan “B” did not even enjoy the slim odds of success associated with the “Trojan Horse” plan that had failed. However, it did have one great advantage. He had made it work once before.

Upon hearing Mihkel’s plan his team of Valentina, Jack, John, and, now, Viktor, new to the leadership role, screamed “absolutely not.” Though Viktor did not yell as vigorously as the others. “That’s insane,” barked Valentina. Mihkel just calmly raised his right hand, palm out, like a policeman stopping traffic. “I have done it before,” Mihkel quietly said attempting to quell their concern. Then, Jack spoke up saying, “Yes and you did it as a young man with a team of huskies and a dog sled, not a 2-ton Bugatti.” Mihkel’s plan focused on prepping the Bugatti to drive across a frozen Gulf of Finland to Finland. With a gently expressed feigned confidence Mihkel attempted to lighten the mood saying, “What could possibly go wrong?”

After a discussion consisting of pretty much equal parts heated disagreement and pleading, Mihkel’s team unanimously rejected the idea. However, Mihkel’s vote would be the only one to matter, and he voted yes. The dissenting but ever loyal team fell in line. They would do everything possible to make the plan work. Though he did not let on, Viktor who had come to revere Mihkel on a level bordering worship, felt a powerful inner burst of pride in witnessing Mihkel’s determination.

The Gulf of Finland had not frozen over since 1940 when Mihkel escaped across the ice to Finland. However, a wicked and unusually severe arctic cold wave had swept over the Baltic region with daily temperatures hovering around 0°F. Mihkel’s instincts afforded him the confidence to basically bet his life that the “Big Freeze” would linger; and it did. For the first time in 47 years the Gulf between Tallinn and Helsinki would freeze. While the “Big Freeze” gave Mihkel what he wanted, it deprived much of the local population of what they needed. As temperatures plummeted producing record lows reaching -24°F. Local power outages left people without heat or electricity, some shops had empty shelves, and inflation soared as the value of the Russian Ruble fell. Rationing of bread and milk products resulted from interrupted supply chains. The inability of the Estonian government to function effectively created an overall shock to the public. The only silver lining of this freak weather crisis came in how it would benefit Mihkel’s escape. The American dollar, of which Mihkel’s team had a stash, became even more desirable, as the Estonian populace found itself with a desperate need for basic supplies, supplies that could purchase on the black market with the more valuable American dollar. Effectiveness of Estonian border security forces and repressive communist policies in general had declined in the face of the punishing weather conditions compounded by a growing Estonian pro-independence movement. If ever there existed the perfect bad storm enabling a clandestine Iron Curtain border crossing this was it.

Compared to the group that undertook the unsuccessful “Trojan Horse” effort, the team in Estonia dedicated to undertaking this ice bound “Great Escape” would look very different and be much smaller. With time quickly running out on the Estonian government sanctioned stays of Valentina’s Dance troop and John’s Geological Research team, both groups would have to depart for Helsinki as planned by December 18th. However, neither Mihkel nor Jack would be with them. Here the team prayed for the persuasive power of the American dollar in a country where a bribe of $500 could significantly improve a local person’s life for a year. Now in the “Big Freeze” its value as an incentive had significantly increased.

So much could go wrong it seemed hardly possible that the plan could succeed. There existed no doubt that faith played a major role. Valentina’s and John’s groups would depart for Helsinki before ice blocked the ferry. Customs officials had accepted life changing bribes of $1000 each to approve passage of Mihkel and Jack through customs “in abstentia” so to speak. Mihkel, Jack, and Viktor intended to remain in Estonia where, supported by the Forest Brothers and Sisters, they would work feverishly to bring the Royale back to an operational state. Amidst the chaos swirling around this last minute (no one wanted to use the word “desperate”) plan’s implementation, thinking negatively had no value. Everyone simply had to believe. Mihkel’s best estimate placed D-Day, (Departure Day) at around the 10^th of January depending on more variables than any team member care to acknowledge.

By the morning after being misdirected by Viktor, Petrov now accompanied by a few Soviet soldiers had finally located the warehouse deep in the dense Estonian forest. It triggered a distant memory. An overnight dusting of snow had obscured any tire tracks around the structure. However, once inside, evidence of a flurry of very recent activity could be seen everywhere. Empty Tartu Õlletehas brand beer bottles collected in a barrel. Mugs still held some coffee, though now frozen. However, most perplexing to Petrov, could best be described as a great timber monument. Dominating the warehouse floor resided a giant horizontal log stack. A dumbfounding anomaly, it made no sense until Petrov walked around to the other side to discover that the great stack formed a hollow space large enough to conceal an automobile. Petrov’s pulse raced. Then, his jaw clenched with frustration as he ruminated on what he would have found if he had only gotten here a day earlier. “Damn that stupid truck driver and his stupid directions,” he thought. However, his mood quickly swung to that of a great hunter on a warm trail. He felt a glorious prize within his reach. Still, he would have someone keep an eye on the warehouse.

With time melting like butter on a hot skillet, Mihkel had to make two quick decisions. First he had to detail for Valentina and John their roles and responsibilities. While their dance and geological groups would return to America, they would stay in Helsinki and coordinate activities on the Finnish side. For Valentina that meant taking vacation time from her United Nations work to open up channels available to her through her diplomatic contacts and to immediately enlist the support of Ed Sikes. Apparently “Naali, the Arctic Fox” and “Wonderfalk” would have one more long shot mission to face. Secondly, Mihkel no longer felt safe housing the Bugatti on the Oja farm. The urgency of relocating the Royale could not be overstated. On December 16^th the Dance Company and Research team braving 0°F temperatures and biting winds had departed for Helsinki. December 17^th saw Valentina depart for Helsinki having confirmed that Ed Sikes would be arriving in Helsinki in two days. During that time “Wonderfalk” would be busy reconnecting with friends across the Baltic region. His exploits over the past 40-some years had earned him a rightfully earned hero’s stature across the region among senior members of the government and military alike. Any conversation expressing the possibility that the legendary Wonderfalk and Arctic Fox would reunite once again in Finland, would bring all other discussions to an abrupt and reverential halt.

John Taylor worked feverishly to arrange the technical support needed to provide any hope for Mihkel’s plan to succeed. Using his authority and some financial incentives he established Viktor as an approved source of technical support for Eesti Energia. This allowed the young Estonian access to the portable generators, welding equipment, space heaters and gasoline that had proved so helpful at the warehouse. Viktor would also have access to the motor pool as well as benefiting from the latest Nokia Cityman 450 mobile phone that would allow him to connect with John in Finland. The motor pool access and mobile phone addressed critical needs for transportation and communication necessary for Mihkel’s idea to have any chance of success. December 18^th saw John join Valentina in Helsinki. In that pivotal two-day period Viktor played the web of the Oja family underground like a virtuoso violinist. In that brief period he had arranged what he and Mihkel believed to be an ideal site in Harju County to relocate the Royale. In searching for a new work space Viktor had located an abandoned brick kiln very appealing on numerous counts especially its remoteness and proximity to the Gulf of Finland from where Mihkel would launch his escape. Its roomy interior and still functional fireplaces would provide an acceptable space to prep and stage the Bugatti for its planned midnight run to Finland and freedom.

Estonia’s northern coast bordering the Gulf of Finland provided the closest proximity to Finland, roughly 50 miles. The area had brick factories as its main employer. Poverty gripped a large part of the population. The state of the local economy would see the presence of Mihkel’s “Great Escape” effort provide a selective and desperately needed infusion of money into the hands of those that needed it most. Needless to say, the local community proved to be resoundingly supportive of and stonily silent about, whatever that very generous Viktor and his friends do in that old abandoned brick kiln.

In the setting sun of the crumbling Soviet empire young conscripts yanked from distant homelands proved equally open to cash incentives. In this case, the 18 to 20-year old soldiers responsible for raking the beaches to show any footsteps approaching the water, would, now, rake over any tire tracks when directed to do so.

Snow crunched under the tank treads of a trusty old Thiokol 601 Snow Cat as it left the Eesti Energia motor pool. Pulling an empty flatbed trailer, it moved quickly along the lonely country roads in a jerky sort of way. Its destination, the Oja farm. Reaching the farm it circled in the open yard kicking up a cloud of snow driven by a bitter wind. Jack opened the doors as Viktor deftly backed the trailer into the barn. The two together with Mihkel worked quickly. The Royale yielded its ground with surprisingly little resistance as the Snow Cat winched it on to the trailer. Fighting the cold and wind, the three men affixed and anchored a large tarp about the Bugatti’s sculpted contours. It transformed the beautiful beast into a shapeless cargo not worthy of a second look. With a burly groan accompanied by the rattle of trailer safety chains the big cat departed the garage: now towing a treasure. Before leaving, all three men did their best to remove signs of activity. They dropped hay and dragged rakes. They did their best to leave no trace. Mihkel, then, closed the barn doors and set the lock. Without looking back, the three men tossed suitcases into the Snow Cat, climbed in and left. While not yet under its own power, the big Royale had none the less begun its uncertain and irreversible journey to Finland and freedom.

December 20^th found Petrov having dinner with an old friend and senior navy officer in a command position with the Soviet Baltic Fleet. Petrov’s friend over many vodkas described the tedium of his responsibilities overseeing a fleet of old ice breakers. He bemoaned how a man of his skills and capabilities belonged in command of a Soviet warship. He resented his relegation to managing “old tubs that the Russian navy probably commissioned when Lenin was alive.” He viewed his situation as wrongful punishment for having taken advantage of opportunities that higher ups freely enjoyed. He explained his maltreatment saying, “Some greedy Stalin types did not like him drinking from their trough.” He dreamed of the opportunity to do something dramatic that would elevate his stature. “That,” he said, “Would force Moscow to reward him with an assignment suitable for a man of his abilities.” Petrov feigned sympathy for his drinking buddy’s situation though saw little hope for its improvement. That said, his friend from the old days could hold his liquor, enjoyed reliving stories and Petrov trusted him. In the Soviet hierarchy it is always important to nurture good friendships. One never knows when they will have value.

While Petrov rejected any Christian beliefs, a prerequisite for membership in the Communist Party, each winter holiday time (Christmas and New Years) he would return to his native Ukraine to enjoy holiday festivities and parties. He would do the same this year. He reasoned that in this frozen Estonian lock-down, no one would be doing anything, much less smuggling a Bugatti.

ESTONIA 1987

Everyone dearly missed their loved ones as they labored on the Royale bathed in the shadowy light that filled the abandoned Brick Kiln. Despite its age and decrepitude, its open wood burning fire places shielded them from the worst of the Hellish Estonian winter. For the first two weeks of the new year temperatures never rose above 0°F. Working through the forbidden Christmas holidays of communist Estonian, they entertained each other by signing joyous Christmas carols and songs. Brenda Lee’s “Rockin’ around the Christmas tree” and the WWII classic “I’ll be home for Christmas” being two favorites. Viktor took special delight in learning the American songs. The fact that he had a great singing voice brought good cheer to all as they labored, and labor they did.

As skilled automotive troubleshooters they consistently marveled at the quality of the workmanship evident in the Royale. Chosen by fate to resurrect this pinnacle example of 20^th century Olympian automobiles each man worked in awe of its technical and aesthetic genius. It provided the team with a uniquely rugged mechanical jewel that their considerable technical skills could polish into a functioning automobile despite its near half century left in a barn. Working in their favor this last Royale had originally been designed and prepped to function optimally in a punishing long distance race through a harsh northern winter.

On January 7^th, Mihkel sat behind the wheel of the beautiful beast pulled out the choke and cranked the powerful starter motor. Much like a young child new to the challenge of walking, first attempts faltered. However, with technically astute Jack (Mihkel called Jack the car-whisperer) adjusting, tweaking and massaging the great 12.7 liter, 8-cylinder, the Royale roared to life. Exhibiting a truly human expression of achieving instantaneous freedom from unrelieved stress and a profound team accomplishment the three, to a man, cried as they cheered. Serenaded by the basso profundo exhaust note of the big V8, the men affixed snow chains to each tire for greater traction. The 52 gallon (200-liter) gas tank would hopefully feed the beast for long enough to reach Finland. They estimated 6 miles per gallon at best and 1.5 miles per gallon under full acceleration.

The morning of January 8^th welcomed the team with a -20°F slap in the face. Mihkel putting a good spin on the God-awful cold noted that the long spell of frigid weather ensured that the ice would be thick enough to support the Bugatti. He added that it could also kill them if not given due respect by dressing properly. Today, on this dark morning, they would transport the Bugatti to the small quiet town of Neeme by the Gulf coast. Victor had arranged for a warehouse where the Bugatti would be unloaded and fine tuned in preparation for the Great Escape on the 10th. On that day handsomely bribed young Soviet soldiers would be looking the other way when that time came.

Viktor backed the Snow Cat up to the abandoned vine wrapped brick kiln. With the doors open the Arctic wind caused the warming fires inside the kiln to dance within their brick enclosures. The men heavily bundled in white parkas struggled to wrap the Bugatti as before. This time the wind had other ideas and swept away the heavy tarp leaving it pinned to the top of a large nearby pine tree. Mihkel made the call, “Never mind, let’s go.” With the temperature so cold and the area so isolated, Mihkel’s hopes rested on the belief that no one would see the Bugatti on this dark morning. Even if they did, Mihkel and the Bugatti would soon be gone. He chuckled a fatalistic half laugh to himself thinking, “Guaranteed we will be gone, one way or the other.” The Snow Cat’s tracks dug into the snow covered ground. Again with a groan and the clanking of trailer chains the Royale moved yet closer to Finland and Freedom.

Through the holiday season Petrov had been unable and, admittedly, unwilling to free his mind from thoughts of the Super Auto that he believed waited just beyond his grasp. On January 5^th he had returned to Tallinn to continue his search. There he had reached out to the local communist authorities asking for any information that might relate to a “missing” special classic automobile. He explained it had been stolen from a politburo member and the KGB believed it might be in Estonia. He emphasized that the details of this matter should be kept confidential. He made a point of noting that any assistance would be greatly appreciated and rewarded.

Much to Mihkel’s mistaken relief, he believed that no one had seen them on the road that dark morning of the 8th. Even better, a winter mist had further obscured the Bugatti. None the less, everyone involved felt great relief upon seeing the Bugatti unloaded and sequestered in the warehouse at the small village of Neeme. Over the next day, Jack would conduct a final and detailed inspection which would conclude with firing up the beautiful beast to confirm all would be ready tomorrow, the 10^th. Viktor pulled the Snow Cat into the woods and unhooked the trailer.

Around noon on January 9^th Petrov’s phone rang. The caller, an Estonian communist party official had heard from a local Russian informant of a big fancy car being seen the day before on a trailer in Harju County.

© Copyright 2023 Burton Hall

A fabulous race prepped 1930s Bugatti Royale had been unearthed in Estonia in 1986. For forty-five years it quietly sat secretly sequestered in a barn on the farm of Mihkel Oja’s just deceased father Jaak Oja. It’s discovery has inspired the grieving Oja retinue from America to devise a wild scheme to smuggle the car out of Estonia. Because they envisioned an independent Estonia in the not too distant future, their intention called for selling the Bugatti in the west to fund an Estonian technical trades academy. It would serve as a magnificent memorial to honor the patriotism of Mihkel’s deceased parents. At the same time sneaking this “Mona Lisa” of vintage cars out from under the repressive Estonian communist government’s nose would serve to celebrate Jaak Oja’s antipathy to Estonia’s communist regime.

In Search of the Lost 7^th Royale Part 3 (Episode 17- The Best Laid Plans)

ESTONIA 1986

All men selected by Valentina to bring the Bugatti plan to life, called themselves the “Forest Brothers.” The name would honor the roughly thirty thousand native Estonian men who in WWII chose not to submit to the Germans nor subsequently the Russians. These thousands of men instead armed themselves and melted into the dense Estonian forests. From then on, these Forest Brothers conducted a brutal guerilla war against first the Nazis, then the Soviet occupying forces. They continued to fight for years even after the end of the War.

WWII Forest Brothers

Viktor Karmään joined by loyal extended Oja family members Roman, Andrus, Peeter, Aleksander, Margus and Madis formed the core of the new Forest Brothers. In the suppressed but patriotic native Estonian culture the sacrifices of those who came before were held in the highest esteem. Unspoken but understood, these new Forest Brothers, like their WWII namesakes, would give their lives rather than betray a comrade. Not alone, the Forest Brothers had the support of women from the extended Oja family; all no less dedicated than their brethren. Olga, Katrin, Marina, Helen and Elena would call themselves the Forest Sisters. Together as a clandestine assemblage of righteous co-conspirators, they formed a resourceful and fearless ad hoc network dedicated to a single purpose. They would make Mihkel Oja’s plan a reality. Consisting of craftsmen, local police, dock supervisors, port administrators, town officials, loggers, warehouse managers and a doctor, all involved had an important role to play.

Led by Mihkel and Valentina all understood they had to move with speed and precision as winter fast approached. All bore the burden of being entrusted with creating and delivering the hollow log “Trojan Horse” containing the Royale. Though eager, the Forest Brothers and Sisters faced a daunting task subject to a fast moving clock. Two major choke points loomed over the work schedule. First the visiting Americans’ mandatory departure time in Estonia rapidly approached and secondly punishing Arctic winds already portended a harsh winter.

With little time and scarce resources they toiled tirelessly to fabricate the “Trojan Horse.” A rugged Ural 6X6 flatbed truck “borrowed” from a logging camp would provide the muscle to haul the Trojan Horse to the docks. As fabrication proceeded respected team members discretely dispensed bribes to smooth access to the docks and facilitate passage and approvals through the port to the awaiting Liberian flagged cargo ship.

Finding seasoned logs reduced the weight of the Trojan Horse by almost half compared to fresh cut lumber. Finding a site with little chance of discovery unwittingly brought the story full circle as the warehouse built deep in the woods 1n 1938 to prep the Royale still existed. Though gutted it remained sound. There would reside the platform upon which the Trojan Horse would be built. Generators and Salamander space heaters on short term loan “appropriated” by John from Eesti Energia transformed the open space into a somewhat tolerable work space. And work they did.

Back in the Oja barn Jack and Viktor had made significant progress. Farm tires had been found that would accommodate the Royale’s wheels. Suspension components and the steering box experienced resurrections courtesy of recently developed silicon grease. Surprisingly the rejuvenation process moved along quite smartly resulting in a more than acceptable rolling chassis. Realizing that they had brought the Bugatti’s chassis to life and knowing that the team at the warehouse needed more time to complete the Trojan Horse, Jack and Viktor turned their attention to the powertrain. Not that they thought they could get it running, they simply wanted to know the beautiful beast better.

In navigating the wonders of the Royale’s unique supercharged engine Viktor wanted to explore how to refine the integration of the supercharger. He dared not try anything with the existing set-up but, he thought, if he could get a second carburetor to play with, how grand that would be. In a bolt of inspiration he researched and found the address and phone number of the Bugatti Club of Switzerland. They had been around since 1935. On a whim he went to the local train station for a phone and called. A poised and very formal gentleman man answered. Viktor asked for any information as to where a carburetor for a Bugatti Royale might be found. The man chuckled and said the last one he saw was strapped to a unicorn. The man did say Viktor could leave his phone number; which Viktor did, and if the man ran into that unicorn he would call him. Viktor laughed, thanked the man for his time and returned to exploring the magnificent beast without giving the call a second thought.

MOLSHIEM, FRANCE 1986

Wizened by the off-putting effect that his aggressive tone had on his elderly Aunt Yvonne, Yuri Petrov would not make that mistake again. Having flown to Molsheim, France, the revered home of Bugatti, Petrov placed himself in the company of his Aunt Yvonne and her colleague from Pre-War Bugatti Jacques Moreau. Jacques had been a young and skilled apprentice at Bugatti in the late 1930s. With the three seated at Yvonne’s dinner table, Petrov presented himself as a classic car aficionado with a love of all things Bugatti. Reaching for an open bottle of Chateau Margaux Bordeaux he had brought and set aside to breath earlier, Petrov gushed about his admiration for the brilliant craftsmanship of artists and visionaries such as Jacques. After Petrov filled the wide mouthed stemmed glasses Yvonne had set out for the three seated at the table, he raised his glass in a toast to the elderly man in the dark beret, checked shirt and heavy duty work pants. He toasted the great men such as Jacques responsible for creating such breathtaking beauty. Eagerly refilling Jacques’s glass, Petrov with almost fawning obsequiousness lavished praise on the great men of the automotive Golden Age such as Jacques. Petrov’s voice radiated warmth and congeniality as he began to explore Jacques’ memories of the  “Old Days” at the Bugatti factory. Despite his best efforts to project a warm and a conversational ease, Petrov’s words, increasingly acquired the feel of an integration. He could barely restrain himself from clawing to the facts for which he hungered. fortunately for Petrov, the fine wine and feigned adulation had lubricated Jacques’ recollections of the factory while dulling the old man’s desire for compensation.

Bugatti Factory 1930s

Much to Petrov’s liking, Yvonne initiated talk of the mystery car by recalling how Jean Bugatti had made such an issue about the hush, hush nature of this “special Bugatti. Being the office manager she saw big invoices come in and go out. However, none matched the size of those going out to some rich Romanian playboy. Jacques, wishing to capture the dominant role in the recollection of past events, jumped in recalling sneaking into the off-limits “quarantaine” special projects workshop. What he saw then, he described, now, as “fantastique.” He related how this project funded by some rich guy named Antonescu with an odd first name had the shop bustling. As, apparently, cost had been no object to this rich Romanian, Jean Bugatti dedicated himself to its perfection. In this troubled pre-war period, such a considerable infusion of cash could not have been more welcome.

Jacques went on to provide details of what he had seen. Even when he tried to embellish his recollections, his efforts fell short of doing the actual Royale justice. Petrov consumed this confirmation of his wildest hopes with a ravenous appetite driven by his dream of possessing the ultimate Super Auto; a dream fed by his early experience with the Nazi Silver Arrows.

Petrov drilled down into Jacques’ memory always lubricating the probe with copious doses of adulation and praise. In so doing he had succeeded in coaxing out a tantalizing mother lode of information. Yes, the original bespoke 7^th Royale had been built. He had a witness who saw it quietly loaded onto a truck. It had headed north for a 1939 Monte Carlo rally starting point. It would have been either Stavanger, Norway or Tallinn, Estonia.

Petrov’s journey to Molsheim had paid great dividends with a rich but incomplete trove of information. He immediately called upon all resources at hand to fill in critical blanks. With surprising speed Petrov discovered that a wealthy, egocentric Romanian, auto racing aficionado named Archimedes Antonescu had registered for entry in the 1939 Monte Carlo Rally. The Romanian’s intended starting point had been Tallinn. However, Antonescu never showed up for the rally. Apparently, Antonescu along with three respected racing mechanics had died in a violent railroad crossing accident near the Estonian/Polish border in 1939.

Based on his research, Petrov concluded that, as best as could be discerned, the mystery Bugatti Royale had never been seen since leaving the factory for Estonia. For Petrov a jaw-dropping reality began to take shape: Antonescu’s racing Bugatti Royale has sat in some dark corner of Estonia waiting for Petrov to find it. The thought of some Super Auto grander than a Silver Arrow being lost in time and hidden waiting to be found, elevated his level of interest to a ten on the frenzy scale. He frantically explored every avenue to narrow his search without betraying his objective. Then he got lucky.

One of the 6 original Bugatti Royales

In reaching out to a contact in the Bugatti Club of Switzerland, he asked about special Bugattis, like a Royale for instance. The friend laughed saying “There are only six Royales, yet in one day I have gotten two inquiries.” Doing his best to appear to be making idle conversation Petrov halfheartedly asked about the second inquiry. His friend pooh poohed the other call referring to it as just some guy with an accent asking about getting a carburetor for a Royale. With a smirk he said, “There are only six Royales it’s not like he had a seventh one with a servicing problem.” Petrov did his best to laugh nonchalantly. Then he asked matter-of-factly as to the caller’s accent. His friend responded recalling that the accent sounded like it came from Latvia or Estonia, one of those little Baltic nations.

Cleverly, Petrov followed up by asking the caller’s phone number. Sometimes a little luck can go a long way. Petrov knew he was on the scent. He would go to Tallinn to employ his connections within the Estonian communist hierarchy.

ESTONIA 1986

Muuga Harbor, Ribbon Cutting

Mihkel surveyed the nearly completed log stack “Trojan Horse’ with its hollow center revealed. He cast a smile across the warehouse floor that warmed the assembled Forest Brothers and Sisters charged with bringing his plan to fruition. As in every step of the process, time cracked an unrelenting whip over all involved. The feast of Saint Lucia on December 13^th fast approached and right after that on December 16^th would come the huge celebration recognizing the opening of Muuga Harbor. Muuga Harbor would be the main cargo harbor for the Port of Tallinn and Estonia. Mihkel’s plan called for the truck transporting the Trojan Horse with its precious cargo to take advantage of the frenzy of activity surrounding Muuga Harbor’s opening. Lost in the swirl of activity, the truck with the aid of incentivized customs and security police would be loaded on the Liberian flagged freighter arranged by Mihkel’s American father-in-law and shipping big wig Johnny Santucci. Valentina and her dancers including Jack Oja would depart Tallinn for Helsinki during the flurry of activity on the 17^th. John, her geologist husband, with Mihkel and his team from Lamont-Doherty would follow shortly, after seeing the freighter depart the port. All seemed in order, or so it seemed.

Part of Valentina’s UN responsibilities involved being present for the Muuga Harbor festivities that began on the 14th. Even in proper business attire Valentina, pretty, blonde, slim and athletic presented a striking visage. One that could elicit undiplomatic comments from a diplomat. So it was at a party attended by numerous members of the Estonian communist government, Baltic region officials and members of the military that she was approached by a gentleman in military regalia who introduced himself as a Colonel Petrov. While seeming a bit full of himself, Valentina felt no threat in talking for a few moments before moving along. As part of the American diplomatic corps that comprised part of her responsibilities. Making small talk Valentina asked this Russian Colonel about his presence in Estonia. Petrov seeking to impress this very attractive diplomat responded with a story that froze Valentina. She did her best not to gasp. Her diplomatic skills served her well. Petrov told of his efforts to track down a mystery Super Auto that he believed had long ago been hidden. Valentina much to Petrov’s delight seemed fascinated by his adventure. It seemed she could not get enough. Petrov was more than willing to keep this striking beauty hanging on his every word. When the time came that Petrov had exhausted the tale of his search for the Super Auto and moved on to Valentina’s plans for later, Valentina diplomatically excused herself.

Trying to hurry as slow as she could to leave the gathering to return back to the Oja farm without attracting attention, Valentina entered the farm yard skidding to a halt. Winds swept across the field with a bitterly cutting intensity thanks to unseasonably cold temperatures. Against the stiff wind she muscled open the sturdy farmhouse door. While closing the door her words tumbled out. Mihkel, Jack and Viktor stared with a shared concern. Catching her breath Valentina related the horrible news that someone else, an arrogant Russian military man, had come to Tallinn to track down a mystery Bugatti lost for fifty years. No one could believe the timing. Mihkel spoke first with the calming voice of one who had faced more than one devastating surprise. “Does he know enough to defeat our plan,” Mihkel asked. Valentina laid out everything that he said and she surmised. They concluded that though a potential irritant this Petrov did not know enough to be a problem. Left unexplored but on everyone’s mind rested the question, “how did he know?” Three days remained before the Trojan Horse would be delivering the Royale to the docks.

The next morning Petrov called the phone number given to his contact at the Bugatti Club of Switzerland. The station master answered and informed the caller that no one lived in the train station. Having identified the station location, Petrov sped to inspect, in his mind, this first tangible  clue to locating the ultimate Super Auto. As Petrov raced towards the railroad station, Viktor had fired up the muscular Russian Ural 4320, 6×6 flat bed truck that would carry the Trojan Horse. His path to the warehouse would take him by the train station.

Petrov parked by the front door of the station. He had purposely worn his uniform in the belief that it would serve to intimidate anyone he questioned. The elderly stationmaster had seen plenty of uniforms over his considerable lifetime, first Nazi ones, then Soviet ones. He was not impressed, but he was smart enough to be respectful. He explained that from time to time people used the phone. He did not keep track.

Overhearing the conversation, a man with a Russian accent motioned to draw Petrov’s attention. A relieved stationmaster quickly shuffled away. The exchange between the two men quickly settled on the question of where a large car could be hidden locally. According to the man, other than the Eesti Energia facility and the Soviet military base, both a long ways off, the only structure relatively near the station was an old abandoned warehouse. The man, looking up and to the left as if to recollect something, said he had passed near it recently, though not exactly sure where, and thought he saw a light inside. Petrov started to hyper ventilate as suddenly distant memories from the depths of his past filled his mind’s screen. Like yesterday he recalled a boring day in his youth when as a very young Soviet officer in 1939 he stumbled upon a warehouse of relatively, then, recent construction. It had some tools and parts strewn about and specification sheets. Petrov momentarily froze as the fog of a distant memory cleared. He clearly remembered the spec sheets, emblazoned with the logo of Bugatti! Could it be, Petrov immediately discarded the man when he could not provide any further help in finding the warehouse. Luckily for Petrov, he thought, a large truck rumbled up the road towards the station. Flagging the truck down Petrov asked the driver for directions to an isolated warehouse buried in the woods. The driver, one Viktor Karmään, remembering Valentina’s encounter, immediately went on red alert. Fast on his feet, Viktor apologized for not knowing the back areas well, but did offer his best guess as to which direction. Viktor hoped he could get this Russian sufficiently lost to allow Viktor to get to the warehouse, warn his Brothers and clear out equipment that could be traced.

Petrov escaping the bitter cold wind jumped into his Russian Lada and while spewing a small rooster tail of loose gravel sped off, in the wrong direction. Unfortunately for the Forest Brothers, the limited number of roads through the forest ensured Petrov would find the warehouse in relatively short order.

Ural 4320

Navigating the back road like an ungainly bull on a tear, the big Russian flat bed with Viktor at the wheel plowed through the underbrush hugging the road. Snorting and creaking, the big Ural 4320 came to rest facing the warehouse. Viktor exploded through the warehouse door. His firm and urgent tone effectively communicated the crisis at hand. Details he assured would follow. What ensued consisted of a frenzied but thorough gathering of generators, space heaters, tools, wrappers anything that could be traced. With everything loaded on to the truck and into the three cars that had transported the Forest Brothers, everyone departed with the urgency of firemen responding to an alarm. Sadly the “Trojan Horse” had to remain.

Plummeting temperatures reaching -18°C (0°F) and a punishing wind gloomily complemented the mood inside the Oja farmhouse. Confusion and defeat hung in the air like a suffocating cloud. The murmuring, swearing and many softly spoken versions of “How could this be?” ceased as Mihkel stood up to face the roomful of crestfallen Forest Brothers and Sisters.  What words of comfort could the noble “Arctic Fox” offer in light of the inexplicable and devastating failure of this mighty and righteous effort. Mihkel scanned the distraught faces around the room and said, “I am profoundly in your debt. You should take great pride in what you have accomplished and the bond you have forged as the new Forest Brothers and Sisters. You have honored those who have come before you. Know that we could not have reached this point without all you have accomplished.” It was then that Viktor in a room thick with emotion respectfully asked, “What now?” Mihkel answered, “I have an idea.”

© Copyright 2023 Burton Hall