Jil McIntosh

I learned how to drive!

That's me, at the wheel of a Model T Ford that I'd just learned how to drive. Okay, I could use a bit more time behind the wheel to really be proficient, but I managed to go up and down that field a number of times without stalling it, hitting anything, or turning my instructor's hair white, which I think is quite an accomplishment.

I did this at the T Party, and if you're anywhere near Richmond, Indiana from now until July 26, get yourself there. This year marks the 100th anniversary of the Model T, and there are some 900 at the event, which is said to be the largest gathering of the cars anywhere since they originally left the factory.

The car I'm driving belongs to The Henry Ford and is used to shuttle visitors at the museum; it's an authentic replica built by Ford for the company's 100th anniversary.

The T was simple to drive compared to many vehicles of its day, but it requires some coordination and several moves that aren't familiar to the modern driver. Levers on the steering wheel control the spark advance and the throttle, while you use pedals for the gear (high or low), reverse and brake. On older ones, you crank it to start, but this T was equipped with an electric starter.

First, the handbrake must be all the way back, the spark advance all the way up, and the throttle halfway down. Crank it or push the starter button, and when it catches, retard the spark and adjust the throttle. When it's idling nicely, you push the handbrake halfway ahead and press the clutch pedal right to the floor. This is the tough part -- the car starts moving, but you don't take your foot off the clutch. You just drive along.

Once you're up to speed, you put your foot up halfway, push the handbrake all the way ahead, and take your foot off the clutch, and now you're in high gear. I'm told that if you're good at it, you can switch between the two by finding the "sweet spot" halfway on the pedal without the brake lever, but I figured I was lucky just to get it to go ahead.

I'd always wanted a Model T because I thought they were cool; now I want one 'cause I think they're fun. I'll be writing a lot more on this great show, which also included an "air parade" of some ten pre-1930s planes at a nearby airstrip. These T folks know how to have a blast.

Hot rods: just too much damn fun

Last night being one of the first in recent memory without a torrential downpour, I fired up the Studebaker and headed out to the local cruise night. I'd forgotten just how much fun I can have with this truck.

The Stude used to be my daily driver from April through November; it was how I got to work, bought my groceries home, and how we hauled everything from a queen-sized mattress to our kitchen cupboards back from the store. It saw less use when I started reviewing cars, because you can't judge a vehicle when it's sitting in the driveway. That's a shame, because this little truck's a blast.

I went out to a local cruise night, one of the real ones that are still the way it "used to be". No offense to the guys who work so hard to present regular cruise nights each week, but I'm not a fan of being told what year vehicles can come into the roped-off area of the mall parking lot, and here's your ticket, and park where the attendants tell you, and when the last prize of the night is drawn, everyone fires up their cars and drives straight home via the shortest route possible.

No, this one out here (Pete's Big Bite in Whitby, Ontario, if you're ever out on a Friday night after about 9 pm) is as it was in the beginning: you come in, wait until one of the families getting a meal gets back in the minivan and vacates a spot, you double-park if necessary, and you hang around and talk cars until you've had enough, and then you slowly cruise on home because the night's so nice, and the car's running just right, and you're in the coolest thing on the road, and it's just good to be alive. Gas is how much a litre? At times like this, I really don't care.

Nissan Pathfinder, and the Auto Baron's Ball

On today's Canadian Driver, I have a review of the V8-powered Nissan Pathfinder, which you can find here.

I also dropped by Parkwood, the home of GM of Canada founder Robert McLaughlin, where the annual Auto Baron's Ball fundraiser was in full swing. There's a piece on it over here.

Drop the top: A history of convertibles

The Toronto Star has a special section in today's paper on convertibles, and includes a piece I wrote on the history of drop-tops. You can find it by clicking here.

Beverly Rae Kimes: In memorium

Beverly Rae Kimes has passed away. If my calculations are correct, she was 67. To say that the automotive world has lost a giant in the field is an understatement.

A writer and editor since 1963, Kimes had the helm of Automobile Quarterly for many years, and was a contributor for decades. She was the author or editor of more than twenty books, including the definitive history of such makes as Packard and Mercedes-Benz. She was also a rarity, a female writer and historian in a male-dominated field.

I had the opportunity to interview her by telephone in 2002 for Old Autos newspaper, and the first thing I mentioned was that when I first became aware of her writing, I assumed from her ambiguous name that she was a man. She said that just about everyone made that mistake, but in the early days, it was to her advantage: her meticulous work earned her a place on the page, and "By the time they found out I was a woman, (at a time) when women weren't regarded as favorably as they are today with regard to the workplace, I had already established myself," she told me. "I had been writing for several years, so they couldn't really take that out on me at that point."

Although she would gain a reputation as one of the top historians in her field, she told me that she'd known nothing about cars when she started. Fresh out of college, she first got a job with a theater magazine that folded shortly thereafter. Sent on a lead by her agent, the job turned out to be the fledgling Automobile Quarterly. Although she admitted her ignorance of automobiles, the editor hired her anyway, on the basis of the research she did for her Master's thesis. Her first story, on the Curved Dash Olds, sparked an interest in finding out the story behind the vehicles.

My story on her contained a minor error, which most readers would never have caught, but Kimes was mortified, especially when I showed her the transcript of our interview and she found the error was hers. I didn't realize it at the time, but she was recovering from a serious illness, which left her a little fuzzy at times. She requested (and received) a correction; her attention to detail would have allowed nothing less.

Kimes entered the field during the infancy of writing about automotive history, and along with a small handful of peers, she set the standard both for research, and for the stories that resulted. Every auto writer who's ever turned a key owes a debt to her, especially women writers, for whom Kimes put a foot in the door. I know I certainly do; all I can say is, thank you.

Those were the days ...

That's me, age 13, on my mother's new car, a 1972 Plymouth Scamp. (She just about had a bird when the photos came back from the drugstore.) I learned to drive on that car when I was 17, and not long afterwards, it became the first car I owned. Less than a year after I learned to drive, believe it or not, the city of Toronto gave me a taxi driver's license.

I was thinking about that Plymouth the other day, and the cabs I drove in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when I was assessing a brand-new car and marking against it because it had very few storage cubbies.

How times have changed. My Plymouth had a glovebox and an ashtray, and that was it. With the cabs, we'd sometimes buy plastic consoles that sat on the transmission hump. They could be a pain if someone wanted to sit in the middle, though, because most cars had front bench seats.

Cars didn't have cupholders back then, save for the inside of my glovebox's metal lid, which had a couple of indentations to hold a mug if you stopped at A&W for a root beer. I don't remember people drinking anything when they actually drove. We did in the taxis, because there wasn't time to stop. Coffee shops used styrofoam cups, not paper, and we'd wedge them between the dash and the windshield. Some guys bought cupholders that hung off the windowframe, but they were more trouble than they were worth. We'd put a lid on the cup and then tear out a hole so we could drink on the go, and sometimes passengers would marvel at such a great idea. Now the lids come with the holes already scored.

Cars didn't have door pockets. They didn't have a mirror on the passenger door, but they did have vinyl roofs that were definitely not the stylist's finer moment. If you ordered a rear defogger, it was a fan in the parcel shelf that blew warm air on the window, very noisily. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven the day I got a taxi that had air conditioning, power windows and power locks. It was like driving a Cadillac. And those were back in the days when the only thing better than a Cadillac was a Rolls Royce. Good heavens, I feel old.

Why I don't like car auctions

Last year, at a cruise night, someone came up and looked at my 1947 Cadillac. "That's worth about $80,000, right?" he asked.

That's about four times its value, but rather than give him a deal at $65,000, I asked what made him guess so high. Well, he said, one went at Barrett-Jackson the other night for that.

I don't like car auctions. They're too big, too noisy, and after a half-dozen go over the block, far too monotonous. But what I really don't like is that I think they're detrimental to the old-car hobby. Just as celebrity chefs have sent trendy fish to near-extinction, car auctions have sent otherwise ordinary vehicles into the stratosphere, from which they seldom return. Instead of people driving their cars to shows and cruise nights, piling in the family to go for an ice-cream run, and having fun with the old-car hobby, buyers have become speculators. They treat these machines like mutual funds, storing them away until the next sucker pays $150,000 for a 1958 Chevrolet and they bring them out in the hopes of getting rich.

Look around you: old-car owners are old. When I ask what it'll take to keep this hobby going into the next decade, the answer's always the same: "We need younger people to get involved." But if you're determined that your hot-rodded '32 Ford won't change hands for less than $75,000 -- because that's what they're all asking in the National Street Rod Association's classifieds -- what younger person do you think is going to buy it? And if they do invest that much into it, where do you think they're going to drive it?

I saw it in the money-soaked 1980s, when cars ran on cash instead of gasoline; it wasn't uncommon for speculators to buy and flip them without even seeing them. In 1982 I turned down a 1959 Cadillac at $5,000 because it was overpriced; five years later, they were trading at $60,000. Not every car that crosses the auction block is ridiculously priced, but these are soft-porn TV shows, and they're going for the money shot. If you can get someone to pay you eight times what your car is worth, well, good for you. But then don't complain when you go to a "classic" car show, and a Chrysler K-Car is the oldest thing there.

Viva Las Vegas!

I sure would like to be in Las Vegas today. It's the annual Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekend, and what a great event that is.

I've only been once, in 2006, but I loved every minute of it. It's primarily a music weekend that has a car show attached to it, but being a fan of all aspects of the event -- rockabilly music, tattoos and hot rods -- I was in heaven.

The car show is primarily for rat rods, those rough-and-tough unfinished beauties that have burrowed their way into my heart. And I also love the fact that the show isn't about the "traditional" 1950s music -- which has been so done to death at car shows that I now loathe Buddy Holly and the Big Bopper -- but the raw music that seldom made its way to the mainstream.

And I love the people. Unlike the average 1950s car show, where older men and women squeeze into poodle skirts and jeans and pretend to be teenagers, these folks go for grown-up glamor (this lovely lady is Tanya Harris, who looked just marvelous beside a 1929 Ford). To the day I die, one of my favorite moments is sitting at the tiki pool party, watching young women in Betty Grable swimsuits posing poolside and listening to a band singing Rock Around the Clock in Spanish.

You can read my full report here. And next year, try your best to get there. I promise it'll be more fun than you can possibly imagine.

The Year of the Car

This is a big year for the history of the automobile. In 1908, General Motors of Canada was founded, and the Model T first went on sale. Cadillac won the coveted Dewar Trophy for the interchangeability of its parts -- a big deal back in the days when most parts had to be individually machined before they'd fit -- and the Thomas Flyer won the New York-to-Paris race.

The Fisher Body Company was organized, the first four-wheel-drive motor vehicle was built, most cars went to left-hand steering, and Oakland was introduced, a nameplate that would eventually become Pontiac.

It was a pretty exciting time for the horseless carriage, and to that end, Michigan has a full range of activities planned to celebrate what it's calling The Year of the Car. This includes events at The Henry Ford, Meadowbrook Concours d'Elegance, the Detroit Festival of Speed and Style, and the Woodward Dream Cruise.

You can find it all under one roof at MotorCities. Cruise on over and have a look.

Would you let this woman fix your car?

I was going through some old photos and found this one. I'd all but forgotten this!

I think this photo was taken some 27 years ago. I went to visit my aunt in Michigan and found her somewhat upset because her trusty Studebaker had developed a nasty exhaust leak. She didn't like spending money and didn't want to take it to the shop, so I offered to fix it for her. Of course she couldn't bear the thought of me getting dirty, so she found a pair of my late uncle's overalls, along with one of his work shirts and a bandana to wrap around my head. I think it took me longer to get all dressed than it did to fix the car!

A most generous donation ...

This is my good friend James C. Mays, noted automotive historian, author of eight books on the Canadian auto industry, and now, a most generous donor of his extensive collection.

Starting with a Rambler brochure when he was twelve (he's a Rambler nut, but I love him nevertheless), James acquired a collection of sales brochures, factory photos, taped interviews, production figures, books and other goodies that's conservatively estimated to be worth $85,000. And he just gave them all to the University of Windsor, where they'll be catalogued, kept for posterity, and ultimately available to the public for research and viewing.

This is all the sort of stuff that no one ever thought to keep way back when, which is what makes it all the more important now. Most people aren't aware of it, but Canada has played a huge role in the automotive industry, and has a substantial history, both of indigenous auto companies and those tied in to foreign interests. To corporations, it's all just paperwork that costs them money when they need to empty the back rooms. Part of James' collection is material that Renault was ready to throw in the trash when it acquired AMC in 1979. Employees took it home, and when James interviewed them for his book, he received a fair bit of it. That's all now part of the collection, and it's now around for good.

The collection is now with the University of Windsor's Leddy Library, and you can visit their Web site here.

James, I'm going to speak for everyone in the world of cars when I say ... thanks.

Something new: glossaries

I'm slowly compiling glossaries that will help explain some of the terms related to new and old cars. Bear with me, as it's an ongoing process, but you can find them through the new links to the right. I've tried to keep the definitions as simple as possible -- cars are complex and the last thing you need is an equally confusing description!

Time Marches On

This is my pride and joy, my 1947 Cadillac known affectionately as Lucille. She's one of a few older vehicles I've owned, along with the 1949 Studebaker I still have, and long-departed models including a 1948 Chevrolet and 1962 Pontiac Acadian. I learned to drive on a 1972 Plymouth Scamp, and there was one at the Antique Automobile Club of America's show last year, so I guess that qualifies these days, too.

I love old cars dearly, but I'll say this: I'm realistic, too. Whenever I take Lucille out and park her somewhere, I'm guaranteed that someone will come up and say, "They don't make 'em like that anymore."

And my immediate reply is, "That's not a bad thing."

I don't know what it is about old cars, but they sure bring out the rose-colored glasses in a lot of people. Save for the odd Amish wannabe, I can't think of too many people who would prefer shovelling coal into the furnace over tapping the thermostat, or hauling ice to the icebox instead of opening the refrigerator, or biting on a bullet as opposed to surgery in a modern hospital. But mention automobiles, and as far as these people are concerned, there hasn't been a single improvement in the industry since Henry Ford brought out the Model T.

Too many people in the old-car hobby are blinded by nostalgia. Sure, I make my living with new cars, but that's not the reason why I think they're so much better. It's because they are.

People rap on Lucille's thick fenders and say, "These new cars just crumple up when you hit them." Well, that's because they're supposed to; they absorb the crash energy instead of passing it through to the occupants, unlike the the old cars where you hosed the blood off the dash and sold 'em to the next guy. People say you can't fix a new car in your garage anymore, and that's true, but you're also not doing the numerous repairs that older cars needed, like tune-ups twice a year. And as for their longevity, well, most old cars had a three-month warranty. Some manufacturers now guarantee their vehicles for ten years. 

And as for the hobbyists who say all new cars look the same ... if you've gone to the trouble of learning that a groove in the bumper differentiates a 1946 Olds from a 1947, but you'll proudly proclaim that you can't tell a 2008 Buick from a BMW, that's just wilful ignorance.

Don't get me wrong -- there's nothing fundamentally wrong with nostalgia. When the time machine's invented, you can put a martini in my hand and ship me back to the Las Vegas strip, circa 1960, with a ticket for a Rat Pack show. It'll be great fun, and yes, pick me up at the door in whatever land yacht is available. But when I finally come back home in the middle of winter, you can leave that lovely model's vacuum wipers, manual choke, four-wheel drum brakes, single-chamber master cylinder and bias-ply tires back in the garage where they belong.

And happy birthday, Ford

It's a big year for a little car, as the Ford Model T turns 100 years old in 2008. The first production model built for sale was turned out on October 1, 1908. (Some people cite September, but that's the date Ford gives, and I guess they should know.)

It's hard to believe today just what effect this car had on North America. Henry Ford didn't invent the assembly line, as some believe, but he did revolutionize the process when he made it move seamlessly between the workers. That moving line meant a lot of cars could go out the door very quickly -- more than 15 million, in fact, before production ended on May 26, 1927.

It's doubtful Henry ever said "any color the customer wants, as long as it's black", especially since the early ones came in several colors; the story goes that they finally went to black because that color dried the fastest and so the line could keep moving. They were spindly and flexible and so worked very well on the very poor roads of the day, and they were relatively inexpensive. And if you've ever had the chance to ride in one, as I have and can attest, the Tin Lizzy's bare-bones performance is all part of the charm.

There are a number of events planned for the car's centenary, and the big one right now seems to be the T Party 2008, put on by the Model T Ford Club of America this coming July in Indiana. You can find out all about it here.

Happy Birthday, GM

On September 16, 1908, William Crapo Durant filed incorporation papers that formed a new company he called General Motors.

He was already involved with Buick, and he'd agreed to license their production to the McLaughlin Motor Car Company in Oshawa, Ontario. Its founder, Sam McLaughlin, sold his company completely to GM in 1918 (it became GM of Canada) but stayed on as president and as a board member of the U.S. company. He also built a little place in Oshawa that he called Parkwood.

The 55-room mansion is now a public museum and national historical site, and if you spend any time watching movies, you've probably seen it; it's been the backdrop for such films as X-Men, Hollywoodland, Chicago and Billy Madison.

In honor of GM's 100th anniversary, it'll be holding a number of events throughout the year. The one I'm most looking forward to is the McLaughlin Buick Club's Homecoming on August 4, when it's expected that 200 vintage vehicles will drive up Oshawa's main street and into the grounds.

All the info on Parkwood can be found here.

Watt's that?

A homemade Watts link in action, in my husband's under-construction 1957 Cadillac. Them what ain't fans of the genre won't be too interested, but I'm actually very impressed at the work he's doing on it. Just don't tell him that, okay? It'll go to his head.

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Thinking outside the box

This is what's turning my crank today. This is Hot Rod Jakob, and it's a Volvo.

Yes, a Volvo.

This amazing machine was created in Sweden by award-winning car builder Leif Tufvesson at his Caresto shop, and after a tour of the Nordic countries, it'll come to SEMA in Las Vegas in November 2008. Tufvesson showed his last two Volvo creations there, as well.

He took his inspiration from the 1927 ÖV4, the first series-production Volvo. This new version faithfully copies its hood curvature, windshield frame, radiator shell and grille, but uses a carbon-fibre chassis, Volvo T5 turbocharged five-cylinder engine, Volvo M90 transmission, and steering wheel and shifter lever from a P1800.

Tufvesson is no stranger to the North American hot-rod scene, but he grew up working on Volvos and for a while built concept cars for the company, so "instead of obtaining inspiration from an old Ford, as is usually the case in hot rod circles, I wanted to build something that meant more to me personally."

Inspiring it is, and my hope is that enthusiasts on this side of the water will look past their long-held traditions that a hot rod must be a North American vehicle, and appreciate this phenomenal piece of work for what it is. I can hardly wait until November and a chance to see it in person.

Old cars at the new-car show

The Toronto Auto Show is on this weekend, and if you go down there, be sure to visit the Classics Concourse. I've got two articles in the Toronto Star on the displays there: the Cruise Nationals here, and a short piece on the Flames: A Celebration of Hot Rod Art, available by clicking here.

It's alive ... in my garage

My husband's been turning his 1957 Cadillac into a custom lowrider, and last night, for the first time, he hooked up the hydraulic system and checked to see if it worked. I don't know what your spouse does for fun, but here's how mine keeps busy.

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