A Micro Adventure to the Cincinnati Concours d'Elegance

I'd previously heard about the Cincinnati Concours d'Elegance, but had never been - despite being a car guy.  SO was given a couple tickets from a coworker, which seemed like a very good opportunity to go.
I've been to many car shows in the past, but they have all been "working-man's" car shows.  These proletariat shows allow any entrant that meets the specific requirements to enter - from the great to the wretched.  In contrast, the Cincinnati Concours d'Elegance is more bourgeoisie and is invite only, so this would be a good contrast.

Sunday came and disrupting the normal weekend schedule, SO and I headed off.  There were several warnings about limited parking at Ault Park, where the show was being held.  This is sad, one of the best things about a car show is the show outside of the show, where interesting cars driven to the event are intermingled with the Honda Civics and Ford Focuses (Foci?).  A car event should be held where it can be actually driven to and there are plenty of places in the greater Cincinnati where this would be possible.  But I guess as an invite-only event, bourgeoisie expectations are that it be held some place more discriminatory.
So SO and I headed toward the satellite parking with free shuttles to the event.  SO's phone was set to "Avoid Interstates" and Google routed us via a very Garmin-esque moronic route.  Traffic was minimal on a Sunday morning and it allowed us to see several "interesting" Cincinnati neighborhoods.  I appreciate the wide-open spaces I am fortunate enough to live in.
Once at the satellite parking, with about 10x the number of parking volunteers as needed, we made our way onto a bus.  The wait was short and we headed out toward Ault Park.  En route, our bus driver misjudged the distance to the curb and violently abused the bus mirror with a lamp pole.  Wires were cut loose, metal bent, and mirrors broken, ensuring many years of bad luck.  We continued on until less than a half mile from the park, where our driver pulled over to allow a new bus to take us to the show.  The wait was a bit aggravating and somewhat stupid since the bus basically had to go the park anyways at that point.  It would have made much more sense to continue on and decommission the bus after dropping us off, but there are probably some bureaucratic rules that must be followed or something.  Such is life in the world of public transportation.  Our future in a Green New Deal is not looking rosy.

Once on the new bus, it was a very short jaunt to the show.
The show was just getting going when we got there.  It also started to rain - not hard, but just enough to be annoying.  The rain continued through the morning which was unfortunate since it kept some cars from showing up.  It also meant there were lots of umbrellas which made the hoards of lookers take up more space (in fairness, ourselves included).  Very often I saw pointy umbrella tips come dangerously close to shiny cars... 

The show had two themes:  Mid-Century Modern and 95 Years of MG.  The Mid-Century Modern were up front and weren't what I was expecting.  I anticipated Elvis, what was there was much more Gatsby.  The Gatsby cars are some of the most imposing, rakishly long and ostentatious vehicles ever made.  Colors of the era are largely subdued however, and one car must have been recently painted since the odor of fresh paint was very noticeable near the show entrance. 

I do miss the era of impressive hood ornaments.

We spent some time looking at the cars and talking to a handful of people.  The rain definitely didn't spoil the show, but it did affect it.  One of the biggest effects was that owners were often huddled nearby under ponchos and umbrellas.  This often made them hard to identify, so talking with them was commensurately difficult.  One dude finally retreated to his car to avoid the rain.  With the warm temperatures, it must have been stiflingly humid.

Since I cut my teeth on British cars, I was really interested in the 95 Years of MG.  Despite the bad weather, many cars came and several were quite rare pre-war models.  One interesting car was a Saloon with custom coachwork, but made from an MG TD.  Despite the enclosed cockpit, water still somehow made its way inside through the less-than-stellar British waterproofing (sorry - harder to see in the picture than I hoped) onto the dashboard.

One car had a super-cool mosquito hood ornament.  I'm sure this is not original, but I fully approve!

This is usually a beautiful car, but with the top up, it has to be one of the most ungainly and disproportionate vehicles.

I really wanted to talk to the owner of this Magnette, since the age and color of the restoration was close to when I built and engine for a Magnette in my former life as a mechanic.  At that time, we had one oil galley plug which was unavailable, so I made a temporary one out of a carburetor throttle shaft and some solder.  With a bit of miscommunication, the car left the shop with this temporary plug.  I subsequently drove with SO to the Cleveland area to do a more permanent repair.  That trip was fun and the owner was amused by the situation.  My boss was a bit terrified about what I was going to put on my time card for this, but as I recall it was only a small amount of time.  I was really wondering if this was that same car.  Alas, I could not find the owner nearby.

The other cars I was really interested in were the more modern classics.  The rear end of the Ferrari Testarossa has to be one of the sexiest views in all of car-dom.  And nothing says 1980's excess as well as this.

And perhaps one of the cars I was most wanted to see - always - was the Ferrari 308 (only since 328's are so much less common).  Sadly the owner of the only 308 at the show had it enveloped in Visqueen.  The plastic had clearly been put on the car after it was already wet, so its purpose was questionable.  While the Ferrari 308 is the car I would most like to own, it is just a car and water won't kill it.  There were far rarer and more expensive cars that were not covered at the show, so I must determine that the owner of this gem really doesn't deserve it.  This was, frankly, the major disappoint of the show...

After a final pass-through of the cars (and one last hope that the 308 would be uncovered), SO and I headed out.  On the way out, we stopped by a few cars outside and I noted a Ferrari 360 which had driven to the show (it was NOT covered).  While the 328 prompts an inexpiable visceral reaction, and I might actually own one if I didn't spend so much of my life on 2-wheels, the 360 is a pretty amazing car in its own right.  Given the lack of interesting cars in the parking lot, I was glad a few owners made the effort.

The bus ride back to the satellite parking was, thankfully, incident free.  We took a more sane route home and returned to the more mundane weekend life. 
The Cincinnati Concours d'Elegance was quite impressive.  I see the allure of an invite-only event.  Virtually all of the cars were top tier.  But I think that also resulted in a loss of some of the charm.  Without the daily drivers and cars with questionable provenance, the most impressive cars didn't stand out quite as much.  The owners of the working-class cars often show much more enthusiasm compared to the well-heeled concours people - although I'm not sure how much the weather may have affected this.  Perhaps I'll have to go again for a future year when hopefully the sun will be shining.

Short Trip to Michigan Day 2 - Back Home

Thunderstorms rolled through overnight which didn't help the sleeping much.  But I slept as well as could be expected after a late night (by my standards) with some crazy disruptions to gustatory norms.
I hesitated moving around since it was early, but there was still quite a bit of rain in the general Western Michigan area, so I didn't want to dither before hitting the road.  I took a quick shower and Mark was up shortly after that.  We solved a couple more of the world's problems over some tea and shared a few more travel adventures.  We also decided that even though it has been around 10 years since we saw each other, we probably have more in common now than we did then.

There was a little bit of rain in the general area and I was on the road around 8:00.  Temperatures were very pleasant and I didn't bother with the rain gear.
I started out with a mix of 2-lane roads and interstate before heading south on I-69 for a bit of a slog.  Somehow I dodged all the raindrops.  Early mornings are great and the interstate was nearly devoid of traffic.
I think I needed this trip, short though it may be, more than I realized.  I really did need something to break up the routine.  I needed a bit of me-time (not that there isn't much of that in other forms, but it isn't the same).  I also needed to reconnect with some old friends; work and mid-life friends are necessary, but not the same without the history.  They tend to be less genuine.  With so much of life now devoted to work and just getting done what needs to be done - what is left over tends to be more superficial.  More transient.  Maybe I won't think that 20 years from now when I look back?  But I guess I miss people who are friends due to more than only immediate circumstances.

For no real reason, I felt determined to wait to get fuel until I was off the interstate.  The gas gauge on the Triumph was down to one bar and the fuel warning light was on (which never happens since I'm generally paranoid when it comes to fuel level) when I pulled into a gas station in VanWert.  Some young chick in a Mercedes stared at me in a disturbingly odd way when I was getting gas.  I'm not sure if she was annoyed that I was taking her fuel spot (there were several others empty) or just that her fine automobile had to exist with us plebeians.  It is a screwy world.  I ate a pop tart and drank an overpriced iced coffee before continuing south.  I was getting ravenously hungry, but I'm not sure if my choice of food helped or hurt in the long run?

I continued south, taking advantage of opportunities to pass when they presented.  Traffic remained low throughout the day.  There were two detours on the route - Ohio requires that detours be on roads of similar or greater capacity which means those through rural areas end up being stupid-long.  I found my own routes, thankfully avoiding any gravel roads.
The flooding in Northern Ohio was evident.  Whole fields were underwater and while streams had retreated, low areas were inundated.  I felt bad for the area's farmers.
Temperatures began to get hot and sunny as the day progressed.  Later in the day I looked at the weather back in the Grand Rapids area and saw intense thunderstorms.  Leaving early was a good decision.  Soon enough I was back at home.  It felt like Sunday the whole day since I had Friday off; I was glad to remember I had another day.

This trip was barely an adventure and more time was spent in the saddle than anything else.  Still, I'm glad I made it.  It was great to see my old boss and reconnect with a few friends.  There were lots of people I didn't get to see for various reasons - that just gives me an excuse to do it again sometime.

Short Trip to Michigan Day 1 - A Beagle Named Fairbanks

With only two dogs - both of which are healthy and not geriatric, it is much easier to leave them for a little longer than usual.  SO was going to work, so without the typical schedule, they would be alone a little longer than usual; they are great dogs.  But as I was thinking this, I couldn't help think about Fairbanks.

I always said that if I want to be a better person, I should act more like Fairbanks.  She was the most laid-back dog in the world.  She would never get upset and mad.  She would only get excited if it was really beagle-important.  She just looked at every situation as what it was and accepted it with a knowing grace.

The road trip to Alaska in 2008 seems so long ago now; a lot has changed since then.  It almost seems like a lifetime ago.  And I guess it is a lifetime ago - a dog's lifetime.
I knew I wanted another dog after Sammy and Dixie had died and with nearly unlimited time to think I decided on the way home from Alaska that it was time.  So shortly after getting home I started looking for the right beagle.
A rescue organization that mostly deals with some large breed - I forget which now - had a beagle listed with the name of Sadie.  After a few exchanges, we drove a couple counties over to meet her.  We got there before she showed up, but as soon as Sadie got out of the vehicle I knew she was the right dog.  Head down.  Tail up.  Howl up.

We talked to her owner and she gave us a bit of the situation as we walked toward Pet Smart.  She was Bonnie's dog and had been for some time, but her life had turned and Bonnie was now taking care of her granddaughter - life simplification was in order.
Paperwork was filled out, money exchanged, and a volunteer told us there would need to be interviews and a house visit before we would get the dog.  Bonnie looked at the volunteer and said, "No, these guys were sent here to me from above.  Like it or not they are family now."  There was no question Bonnie was in charge, and her words were final.  We went home with - now Fairbanks - that day.
Bonnie emailed me that night, concerned with how her Sadie was doing.  One picture said it all (she's in the middle).

That picture really did show how quickly Fairbanks fit in.

Like most of my dogs there was some adjustment.  Fairbanks was adept at finding holes in the fence, or making holes under the fence.  In a most memorable example, I was getting ready for work and heard her howling getting distant.  Looking out the back window I just caught a glimpse of her running toward the creek.  Still wearing only a pair of moccasins, I gave chase.  Over the creek, over the fence, through the hay field, running, sweating, covered in dewy summer humidity and pollen.
I eventually caught her, but suffice to say I was late for work that day.

Those events were few and far between though.  Mostly Fairbanks was just happy to spend time in the back yard.  For a dog named after a notoriously frigid city, she didn't like the cold.  But give here a sunny spot and she'd be happy all afternoon.

And as already mentioned, she was unflappable.  Where Soda would go bonkers over any small animal, real or imagined, Fairbanks would only show mild excitement (she did love to bark at deer though).
And where Jackson made sure to let you know if there was something he didn't like, Fairbanks treated every uncomfortable situation as just something to accept.

She was a healthy dog with the exception of her ears, which were plagued with infections.  At some point we realized she had gone completely deaf.  But this never bothered her - it just made it easier for her to sleep.
Fairbanks moved to the new house with us.  She accepted the smaller fenced in yard not as the new normal, but the new "Awesome!".

Fairbanks loved walks.  The longer the better - it almost wasn't possible to walk her too much.  Normally she would walk patiently along, smelling and thinking beagle thoughts.  But occasionally she'd catch the recent scent of something and have a very distinctive bark.

I vividly remember the last walk I took Fairbanks on.  She was already having muscular-skeletal issues, but I took her with me to hunt deer sheds on an early spring day.  We weren't finding anything, but Fairbanks was getting really excited with all the smells in the woods.  I unleashed her and let her run.  She temporarily regained some youth.  Up and over logs, through creeks, nose down, tail wagging a million wags-a-minute, barking her fool head off.  She loved it even though it was noticeably hard on her by the time we headed home.

At some point she started to show her age.  She was a prematurely grey beagle, and developed eye issues in addition to her ear problems.  She had been deaf for years, but since she was so laid-back, I'm not really even sure when that happened.  For her, the nose still worked, and that was all that mattered.

She continued to age with grace.  We lost Soda, and Fairbanks and Jackson became Team Beagle in a manner I hadn't seen since Mandy and Sammy.  When one dog barked for food (or anything), it was always a team effort.  For years my phone ring tone has been Jackson and Fairbanks barking - this never fails to get a few smiles when I get a call at work.

Isla came and Fairbanks accepted her as just another dog friend.  Still, when Jackson died the barking seemed to end.  I don't think dogs grieve - and certainly not like humans do.  But Fairbanks noticed when Jackson was gone in a way most of my dogs haven't.

Our wonderful vet noticed some growths on lips and gums during a routine check-up.  Once pointed out, it was hard not to be concerned so we had them removed.  The histology proved serious when it was diagnosed as oral melanoma - this is a very bad cancer for dogs.  The canine oncologist recommended a very expensive treatment, but reading up on it showed clinical results of very little benefit - except those results published by the manufacturer which had very, very questionable statistics.  I felt quite judged by the Oncologist, "Three months with no treatment at most, six is likely with treatment."  Fairbanks ended up making it two more years with palliative care.  Two years as a dog rather than as a patient is a great outcome for any dog.

At some point the aging became less graceful.  After kenneling them when we went to Yellowknife, she came back with some unpleasant GI issues.  Vet to the rescue again, but this was the beginning of her life with a few more restrictions.  Restrictions she accepted with her normal laid-back, supercool attitude.

Life as an old dog isn't easy.  We found tricks to keep her happy and helped us deal with her issues.  It seems every time we have to go through this, we get just a little bit smarter about it.  Much like I wish I could emulate Fairbanks in life, I hope I can accept old age as she did.

Bonnie thanked us in an email shortly after we got Fairbanks for taking her in and giving her a life she no longer could.  I know we did that, and Fairbanks gave 10x more than that in return.
Sadly, the drip of old-age problems eventually added up to be a lifetime's worth.  It was time to say goodbye on a temperate spring afternoon.
We buried her under a new baby tree.  So far that tree is growing well, it will be the most laid-back tree ever.

"The news came to the doctor where he sat with a woman whose illness was age, though neither she nor the doctor would admit it." - John Steinbeck

And so, with thoughts of Fairbanks and all the dogs I've had, I headed out the door right near daybreak.

There were threats of rain, and it wasn't too warm, so I was wearing my rain gear.  I headed out on the small two-lane roads near home and started to head north.  Even with the threat of rain, it was a pretty amazing morning.  It was cloudy and cool; humid with a light west wind.
It has been too long since I've had an adventure - not that Michigan is much of an adventure.  But I needed a break from the routine.  A February windstorm damaged the roof and it seemed like everything was on hold until the roof was repaired.  With a complete new roof finished a few weeks previous, I decided to head up to Michigan.  I had great plans, but most of them fell through.  Such is life.

It took a while to get into the  travel, but the light traffic and nice temperatures helped.  I made my way north but detoured to Auburn, Indiana to see the North American Automotive and Truck Museum.  It sits right next to the Duesenberg museum, but I thought the doozy would take a bit too long and the smaller North American Automotive and Truck Museum looked a little more eclectic and funky.  It sits behind the Duesenberg museum and is in historic buildings used by the Auburn Car company.  Admission was only $10 with a $1 AAA discount.
Some of the reviews of this museum were quite negative, but they must have seen a different museum since it was pretty neat.  Almost all of it was American (not surprising) and spanned the very early days of the automobile to very new prototypes.

Having the rear view mirror on the spare tire doesn't seem the most stable?

I'm great with metal wheels.  I'm OK with wood wheels on an old and slow enough car.  But hybrid metal wheels with wood spokes just seem like a bad idea.

I don't think I've ever seen a Crosley car before, but I've read a lot about them.  I think I might want one?

Not the first "real" General Lee I've seen, but I believe this one.

Note the horrid body work - no doubt from body buckling due to doing things that cars really can't do...

Rotary powered Ford Mustang prototype.  WHY DID THEY NOT DO THIS??????????????

Jeep Gladiator prototype - almost certainly one of the newest vehicles at the museum.  I'm a bit ashamed to say I do kind of like it.

The second half of the museum is in the basement where the hidden R&D work was done for Auburn (and probably Duesenberg).  Apparently Auburn had spies from Detroit always trying to see what the sister companies of Auburn and Duesenberg were up to.  Now the basement holds mostly trucks.
These coal scuttle bonnets with the radiator BEHIND the engine always freak me out a little bit.  I guess it makes sense?

When I was a little kid, the neighbor up the road sometimes drove my siblings and I to school in an old International Scout.  I remember freezing my ass off in it in the winter since there were huge holes in the floor, but I've always wanted one.  I would so daily this Scout Truck!

And if the snow was really bad, I could always take this (on second thought - this just looks really janky...).

Those are just a few highlights.  I talked to the museum worker a little before I left.  The museum itself had only a few people in it which is a shame.  With so much to see and additional knowledge from the workers, it was a great way to spend some time.  I probably didn't like it as much as Historic Auto Attractions, but like it better than Volo...

Back on the road, the weather had gotten really nice.  Clouds were disappearing and the temperature was rising.  I crossed the border into Michigan and decided to follow the GPS - not always a smart choice since Garmin likes to route me into traffic sometimes.  Still, it kept me off the interstate.
Garmin pushed me right through downtown Battle Creek - which wasn't too bad.  It wasn't too good either.
I stopped to get gas and texted John that I was about an hour away.  Just after leaving the gas station I passed a snapping turtle in the middle of the street.  I pulled over into a side street and, ran over to it and grabbed its tail, dropping it into the brush.  Some guy saw me and thanked me, but suggested I should have put it on the other side of the road; I just wanted to put it into the brushy area with a creek.  Hopefully my good deed will be good karma.

Back on the road the traffic on M-37 was nuts.  I remember M-37 being a sleepy state highway, but not on this Friday.  It was almost painful in spots.  Nearer the retail area of Grand Rapids it was painfully backed up.  So it goes.

I got to John's house and took off my motorcycle stuff.  John was my boss through college and was pretty influential in my life during that time.  He is sort of retired but still does some British car work.  We talked for a while and he caught me up on what he knows of former coworkers and a few customers.  We touched on a few other subjects, but it was mostly car people.

From there I went to a nearby lake that I used to fish at during high school.  Actually, we did more turtle catching than fishing, but who is counting after this much time.  When I was in high school, the area was a laid back, almost working class lake and park.  Now it was much more highfalutin.  But parking was plentiful and they had a library right on the lake.  I sat by the lake for a while, followed by some time in the library, taking advantage of the free WiFi.
The view from the library ranks up there as almost stunning.  Surprisingly, the seats near the windows overlooking the lake were nearly empty.

I headed over to a grocery store to get a snack.  There looked like there might have been something right next to the library, but it was ambiguous what it was and I didn't think making an idiot of myself was necessary at that point.
While at the grocery store I heard a few groups of people talking about whether they were going to the yacht club that night.  I really was not in an area I recognized any more.

As I was finishing my food, Mark texted me to meet him at a bar a few miles away.  I worked with Mark during the same time that I worked for John and we've tried to keep in touch over the years - some with more success than others...
I found the Gravel Bottom Bar fairly easily, and it seemed to be right near where the Dirty Shame bar was that we used to eat lunch at.  The area barely resembles what it did back then though.  Mark was sitting with some friends of his who he plays soccer with.  They seemed like good group of guys but it was difficult to hold a conversation with any one person with such a large group.  Mark texted Chris who we worked with and he came down as well.  We moved to a smaller table and talked for quite a while before heading back to Mark's house.
It had been a long time since I've seen either Mark or Chris so it was great to catch up.  It was interesting to hear how life's ups and downs had affected us all over the years.  I'm quite sure if it hadn't gotten late, we probably could have solved all the world's problems.
Mark's stepson joined toward the end of the evening and he had just bought a Sportster - so there was much motorcycle talk as well.
But it did get late.  Chris headed home and it was time to turn in.