Trip Peek #126
Trip #163
PA Cars

This picture is from my 2021 PA Cars trip. PA, or Pennsylvania, is where I went and cars is what I went for. The first big car exposure was in Allentown, PA, where my friend Dave Reese gave me another personal tour of the America on Wheels museum. From Allentown, my farthest point east, I headed west to Hershey and the AACA Museum. The trip was more or less organized around the museum’s Model T Driving Experience and that’s what the photo is from. Of course, I worked in a stroll through all of the AACA exhibits and a stop at The Hershey Story Museum too. I got in some miles on both the Lincoln Highway and the National Road and enjoyed a night of historic lodging on each. The National Road miles were eastbound and I spent the first night of the trip at the Headley Inn near Zanesville, OH. The last night of the trip was spent at the Lincoln Motor Court beside the Lincoln Highway near Bedford, PA.


Trip Peeks are short articles published when my world is too busy or too boring for a current events piece to be completed in time for the Sunday posting. In addition to a photo thumbnail from a completed road trip, each Peek includes a brief description of that photo plus links to the full-sized photo and the associated trip journal.

Lunken Airport Days 2023

As I imagine the case is everywhere, Labor Day weekend is pretty crowded with activities around here. I picked Lunken Airport Days to fill my Saturday primarily because I had never attended before. It was also the closest of the events I considered and was the only one that was free. Lunken (LUK) opened in the 1920s and was Cincinnati’s principal airport until Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport (CVG) opened in 1947.

Airport Days is hosted by Cincinnati War Birds so basically features military aircraft. Several classic cars are on display and there are even a few civilian airplanes such as this 1940 WACO. The 100th anniversary of WACO Aircraft Company will be celebrated leter this month at the museum and field in Troy, Ohio.

Military planes included a 1942 BT-13A VULTEE, the next to last B-25 ever built, and a 1944 P-51D Mustang. Seated in the foreground of the Mustang phot is one of the local artists participating in an informal “Lunken Days Sketch Outing”.

But the biggest plane on campus — actually one of the biggest planes ever built — was the B-29 Superfortress named Doc. 1644 Superfortresses were built during World War II. Only two are flying today. This remarkable airplane has its own website here.

My attention focused entirely on Doc when I heard that first engine begin to turn. That initial bit of smoke was soon gone and soon all four engines were running smoothly. Doc earns his keep by taking paying passengers aloft Some of this flight’s passengers can be seen here and here as the plane taxies.

After taxieing to the far end of the field, Doc rumbles down the runway, lifts off, and disappears behind one of the airport buildings. Because of the surrounding trees and the plane’s low flight path, I don’t get a shot of the plane in flight until it returns and circles the field.

It is headed south, just as it was on takeoff, when it returns to the runway.

There was just enough time after the flight landed to prepare for the presentation of the flag and singing of the national anthem at noon. I was not able to photograph the color guard as they marched toward the plane but I caught them on the way back.

Although we could see everything the guide pointed out, there wasn’t much room in the cockpit for taking pictures. The tunnel to the rear of the airplane went unused as entry and exit were via vertical ladders.

I could now get closeups of the nose art and bombardier’s position. With plexiglass domes in place of gun ports, I could look right through the plane to the historic terminal.

Airport Days is a two day affair so, if you are seeing this shortly after publication, you can easily catch the second half. The weather looks to be just as delightful today as it was yesterday.

At Speed in Cincy

History does repeat itself. In the early 1970s, I lived with my wife and two sons in a house with a driveway that sloped to a paved area in the back. That driveway was an ideal spot for the four-year-old to give his Big Wheel a workout. While I worked on something on a car behind the house, he repeatedly pushed the three-wheeler to the top of the hill so he could come rocketing down the hill, brace his feet on the pedals to stop the big front wheel, and throw the rear wheels into a perfect 180-degree slide. This was exactly what Big Wheels were designed for. After one of his countless slides, he looked up at me and made an incredibly insightful observation. “Dad”, he said, “I bet you wish you could do this.”

He was absolutely right. What he was doing looked like a fabulous amount of fun but I was too old. What I saw Saturday also looked like a fabulous amount of fun but I was once again too old. Fifty years ago, being too old meant being too big to fit into the seat. Yesterday it meant being too wheezy and too brittle.

This is Danger Wheel‘s eighth year but it was somehow kept a secret from me until I saw Citybeat’s 7 Things To Do in Cincinnati This Weekend article last Thursday. Realizing almost instantly that this was something special, I made plans to attend and found myself near the midpoint of the course about two hours before race time. There is a starting line at the top of the hill and a finish line at the bottom just like the Soapbox Derby I attended last week (At Speed in Akron). More history repeating itself I suppose.

The race takes place in the Pendleton neighborhood of Cincinnati which has two breweries and several really good restaurants. Food trucks are brought in for the event along with tents from breweries outside the neighborhood. I had no trouble filling the time until the competition started. I even had time to check out some of the racing teams and vehicles.

Of course, the two hours between my arrival and the first race also gave other spectators time to arrive and completely line the course. I did somehow manage to get close enough to the starting line to snap a picture of the launch of the first heat. When the starting horn sounds, two team members have ten feet to power the third member off the line.

These special built Huffy Green Machines have no onboard means of propulsion so you might think that once the starting line pushing ends, the race is exactly like a Soapbox Derby heat with drivers dealing with nothing but steering until gravity takes them over the finish line. You might think that but you would be really really wrong.

While spectators were packing in trackside, race organizers had placed ramps and speed bumps along the clear street I’d seen when I arrived. In addition, pelting racers with water balloons was a legitimate and quite popular means of fan participation. I overheard the starter suggest to a rookie that he close his face shield all the way because “those water balloons hurt like hell”.

I didn’t feel like forcing my way to the front or staying in one place long enough to move up through attrition assuming that was even possible. I could see some of the action fairly well but had no clear shot for photos. The closest I came to capturing any of the mayhem was this fuzzy shot. The picture at right shows a large video screen in the parking lot where most of the food trucks were. Live racing was shown on this screen and on screens inside most of the businesses in the area. The longest stretch of racing that I actually watched was inside one of the breweries while also enjoying some cool air and cold liquid.

I did not stay until the champion was crowned. Just like last week at the Soapbox Derby, I had no one to root for. The winner of each heat was announced but the names were meaningless to me and I did not pursue standings.

But I still consider it one of the coolest events I have ever attended in Cincinnati. It was absolutely great fun to watch but, once I understood that the helmets and padding were not just for show, I lost any desire to participate. I do still wish I could have spun that low-slung speedster around in the driveway fifty years ago, however.

At Speed in Akron

In the closing paragraph of my post on the Golf Manor Grand Prix, I mentioned that I probably wouldn’t make it to the Cincinnati Soapbox Derby qualifier but might attend the season finale in Akron, Ohio. As it turns out, both conjectures turned out to be accurate. I missed the Cincinnati event but made it to the big show for the first time ever.

The very first All-American Soap Box Derby® took place in Dayton, Ohio, which is even closer to my home than Akron, but I did not attend. It was 1934. Things moved fast and the 1935 race was held on the streets of Akron with a permanent site, Derby Downs, being built by the next year. I was probably aware of the Derby as a child but it was not part of my world. I believe I first saw Soap Box racers in action within the last twenty years or so. By then, I was very much aware of the Derby and of just how big an event it was. More recently, I began to realize that if I was ever to witness what was an iconic happening in my home state I’d best be getting on with it.

The opening photo was taken when I arrived on Friday. There seems to be something going on all week but Saturday is the big day and the only one that requires a ticket. Super Kids events were taking place when I was there Friday. This is a program that allows physically and mentally challenged children to participate by having a helper ride with them.

A golf cart shuttle took me all the way to the top where I could see lots of cars being readied to race and could get a really good look at the whole track too.

Here’s something I was not even aware of when I left home. I spotted an announcement about this Vintage Derby Car Show in my Facebook feed when I stopped in Columbus for breakfast. Because the poster and I had a bunch of mutual friends, I correctly guessed we had a Route 66-related connection. I stopped in after leaving the track and enjoyed looking over the displays, including a replica of the winner of that inaugural 1934 race, and meeting Facebook friend Keith Lamb in real life. Keith won the Derby in 1979 and had his car on display but, although we stood and talked beside it for quite a while, I failed to get a picture. I did better with Keith and his wife. This was the second year for the event with a repeat next year almost certain.

Due to construction detours and bad planning (Mostly the latter.) I was late for opening ceremonies on Saturday. I could also try to blame the longer walk after parking. On Friday the field had just a few cars in a single row but was now almost full. I heard the national anthem as I neared the track and reached it just in time to see the Champions, who had apparently walked down the track as part of the ceremony, begin their walk up the track. The word “champion” was used a lot and in this case referred to all the competitors. In the act of qualifying for this event, each of them had become the champion of something.

In rather short order, a full day of non-stop racing would commence. These three pictures show cars at the start, somewhere mid-track, and crossing the finish line. Notice that the racers are virtually side by side in all three pictures. This was typical. Winning margins of 0.005 and 0.006 seconds were common. At least two races I watched were decided by 0.001 seconds. One of the later races ended in a dead heat requiring a two-car runoff. The biggest differential I noted was barely over 0.16 seconds.

All the cars in the previous set of photos are Stock Division racers with drivers between 7 a 13 years of age and no more than approximately 5’3″ tall and 125 pounds in weight. Cars in this pair of photos are Super Stock Division racers with drivers between 9 and 18 years of age, up to about 6’0″ tall, and weighing up to about 150 pounds. Incidentally, the distance between racers in the second picture is just about as big as it gets.

A third style of racer makes up the Masters Division. In these, the 10 to 20-year-old “more experienced” drivers essentially lay down in the cars with just the tops of their helmeted heads visible. Sometimes getting tucked in requires a little extra push from Dad.

Racers qualify for the international competition either by winning the Local Race nearest to their home or by winning a Rally Regional Title by earning points in multiple races. Both methods produce champions in all three divisions. The bulk of Saturday’s racing involved eliminating all but nine competitors in each of these six groups. A victory parade celebrated each group of finalists.

Each of those six groups of nine was arbitrarily divided into three heats of three. The winner of each heat would run with the winners of the other two heats to decide 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. Second-place racers would compete for 4th, 5th, and 6th while third-place racers would compete for 7th, 8th, and 9th. The range of times for each heat usually looked something like this where barely 5/100 of a second separated all three cars.

I was quite surprised by the nearly empty grandstandsbut eventually realized that unattached spectators like me were pretty scarce. Most people were there in support of a specific racer and had a home base established trackside. Of course, enthusiastic cowbell-equipped fans could be found anywhere.

The Goodyear Blimp is hangared at an airport right beside Derby Downs so there would occasionally be things overhead to watch or be watched by and there was still plenty of action on the track but I had no one to root for. At the start of the day, I had identified two competitors from Cincinnati but both were eliminated in the first round. I then moved my support to a racer named Gibson. She made it to the final nine but when she lost her bid for first, I headed home. Great fun and I later learned that the Gibson kid won her last heat to earn a 4th place to bring honor to the family name.

Golf Manor Grand Prix

I once attended a Cincinnati Soapbox Derby event and I know I took some pictures but apparently I did no reporting of it on this site. This post will keep last Sunday’s Golf Manor Grand Prix from suffering the same fate. The Golf Manor race is an International Soap Box Derby® sanctioned event but it is not a qualifier for the big derby in Akron, Ohio. For Cincinnati, that role is assigned to the Cincinnati Local Derby held in June. That means the Golf Manor event is something of a practice session with a sizable percentage of first-time drivers. Both Stock and Super Stock races are held but I attended only the Stock event that filled the morning. Stock car drivers are between 7 and 13 years old and under 5’3″ and 125 pounds. Super Stock cars are a little bigger with drivers between 9 and 18 years of age and up to 6’0″ tall and 150 pounds in weight.

When I arrived, the pit crews (a.k.a., parents) were hovering around the cars and confering with the drivers. I snapped these pictures of the unattended cars when the drivers meeting was announced.

The drivers meeting was much like others I’ve seen or attended although the drivers were somewhat shorter than what I’m used to seeing. And I think they were less impressed with greetings from Mayor Stefan C. Densmore than were the pit crews and officials. Golf Manor is an independent municipality completely surrounded by the city of Cincinnati.

At 180 meters (about 200 yards) the track here is considerably shorter than the one in Akron (301 meters) but it has the advantage of an uphill slope beyond the finish line. This does slow the racers a bit to the benefit of young rookies who don’t always remember to apply the brakes appropriately.

On-track action started with a number of solo runs which I guessed were to give first-timers a run with minimum distractions and no chance of interference. In reality, though, I don’t think these drivers were about to let anything distract them.

Precision electronic timing gear automatically picks and announces the winners. Elapsed time is not important meaning only the time between the two racers need be measured. Of course, very high-resolution measurement is required as just fractions of a second separate the cars. Math is just one of the things Soapbox Derby racing teaches its participants.

It also teaches sportsmanship. At the start of a race, the drivers are encouraged to wish each other luck before the starter triggers the mechanism that simultaneously releases both cars. Then the drivers get to learn about gravity, friction, aerodynamics, and lots of other things including just how cool a steering wheel and a burst of speed feels.

The racing was mostly without incident and I saw no reason to photograph the few incidents that did occur. A couple of drivers were still learning the mysteries of steering and shortened their runs by angling into the curb and one driver verified the brakes were working by stopping about halfway down the hill. One car veered into the other lane and ended up slamming into the straw bale protecting the timing sensors. I later overheard comments that something in the steering may have broken. Whatever the cause, it was a traumatic experience with some extra learning that was harsh but injury free.

I’m seriously thinking about going to the big show in Akron this year although there are no firm plans in place. The Cincinnati qualifier would be a nice prelude to that but at the moment that looks to be something I’ll have to miss. If that’s the case, this driver’s practice will be my practice too. 

Cars for a Cause

The Butlers made a little money selling bathtubs on the internet. Actually, bathtubs aren’t the only things Matt Butler and his dad Mike sell at Signature Hardware, and saying they made a little money might not be telling the whole truth either. In Mike’s case, he made enough to buy a couple of hundred used cars. All were built in America between 1903 and around 1980. Apparently, Mike has occasionally let groups see his collection of cars and recently started letting the public at large in to see them — for a cause.

I first learned of Collection 21 last month when I saw this Citybeat article. The collection is available for viewing on Fridays and Saturdays from 10 AM to 4 PM. 100% of the requested $15 donation goes to Housing Opportunities of Northern Kentucky. I visited last Friday and the trio at left more or less greeted me when I entered. The red car is a replica of a 1936 Auburn Boattail Speedster built on a modern GM chassis. It was the only replica I noticed in the collection. The pair of 1937 Cord 812s that bracket it are very real as was every other car I took note of.

I had barely moved beyond those Cords when these Lincolns caught my eye. The 4-door is a 1967. I remember seeing a slightly older model in high school and thinking it was one of the coolest cars ever. Lincoln 4-door convertibles still fascinate me. The 2-door should fascinate everybody. The Derham Body Company made two of these 2-seaters in 1962 by drastically shortening full-size Lincoln Contentials. The resulting car is actually four inches shorter than a same-year Corvette. The idea never went beyond the prototype stage and one of the cars was totaled making this the only one of its kind.

This car was factory built and it’s not one of a kind but it sure is strange. It is a 1929 Chevrolet AC International Landau Convertible and there were supposedly about 300 of them made. I guess it’s for people who enjoy open-air motoring just a wee tiny bit.

The cars are not formally arranged although there are clusters of similar vehicles. I’ve clustered three cars with distinctive front ends together in this panel. The 1959 “slant-eyed” Lincoln and 1950 “bullet-nosed” Studebaker were physically side-by-side’ although I can’t say why. The 1940 “sharknose” Graham was several cars away.

The first Ford Ranchero car/truck was a 1957 model. The Chevrolet El Camino would not appear until 1959. Maybe the carlike fiberglass trim on the 1958 Apache Cameo Carrier was intended to fill the gap. Dodge put station wagon fins on their Sweptside pickups in 1957 and ’58 but they never did make a full-size Ranchero/El Camino equivalent.

The 1946 Lincoln Continental and 1939 Packard 1703 were parked next to each other. If there is a need to impress the neighbors, I’m pretty sure that either of these would do the job. That’s a 1931 Ford Model A in the foreground of that third picture but the thing that caught my eye was the shiny temperature gauge on the 1928 Dodge Brothers Victory Six beside it. The next car in line is a 1912 Maxwell Messenger.

When I eventually exited the building, two other fellows were beside me. We all made comments about how impressive the collection was. I mentioned that I had never seen so many split-window Corvettes in one place. They both agreed but when I said I thought there were seven of them, I was corrected. I had forgotten one near the front which made eight. I’d never had to count them before and just didn’t do well. There are five in this picture. The others are scattered here and there.

Among the brass-era cars in the collection is this 1911 Model 30 Cadillac. The Model 30 was manufactured from 1908 through 1914 with the price growing from $1400 to nearly $2000. When this particular car was built, the base price was about $1700. In 1912, the Model 30 became the first production car with an electric starter.

I could have included this 1903 Curved Dash Oldsmobile in the earlier panel of distinctive front ends. No electric starter for this guy. With production starting in 1901, this is generally considered the first mass-produced automobile. By the time production ended in 1907, roughly 19.000 of these one-cylinder wonders had been built.

If I had turned left instead of right when I came in, this 1954 Kaiser Darrin, with its own distinctive front end — and doors — would have been one of the first cars I saw rather than nearly the last. They say there are between 220 and 230 cars here at any time and that all can be started and driven. I have obviously shown just a tiny fraction in this post. Seeing cars as rare as many of those here at way under a dime a piece is a great deal and knowing you’re helping a charity makes it even better.

A Return to the Cavalcade

I spent my freshman year at the University of Cincinnati in an on-campus dorm. My high school buddy Dale attended college in Indiana that year. During the following summer, Dale decided to transfer to the Ohio College of Applied Science in Cincinnati, and the two of us decided to share an apartment. The OCAS school year started a little ahead of UC’s so Dale was already settled in when I drove down to join him. Following my drive, I was ready to relax in my new home but that was not to be. Dale and a newly met classmate were waiting at the door. They had plans and basically turned me immediately around. The three of us headed off to Cincinnati Gardens and the 1966 Cavalcade of Customs.

They say this year’s Cavalcade of Customs is the 63rd annual event. I think that means that the show I attended in ’66 was probably the seventh or eighth. The Gardens was demolished in 2018 but the Cavalcade had moved on well before that. It’s now held downtown at the convention center. I was there on Friday. Although I don’t remember much about that earlier show, I do recall that there were mirrors on the floor beneath quite a few cars. I probably remember that detail because I think it was the first time I’d ever seen such a thing. Of course, I simply was not used to being around cars with undercarriages worth looking at. Here is one of the mirrors beneath that 1940 Willys in the opening photograph. It reflects the chromed oil pan which reflects some lights that are reflected in the mirror. At least that’s what I think is going on.

I know there were some trucks at that 1966 show but I’m pretty sure they were all smallish pickups like George Barris’ Ala Kart. (Which I think may have actually been there.) Americans’ attraction to great big haulers that do very little hauling is something that has developed in the six decades since, and it is certainly in evidence at the Cavalcade.

This 1946 Chevrolet is my personal favorite of all the trucks on display. It’s not very big and it’s not really a custom but it doesn’t seem like the organizers were all that hung up on having only customs in their Cavalcade of Customs so I’m not either. It is a great-looking restoration/recreation and those miniature gas pumps surrounding it don’t hurt.

These definitely qualify as customs although none are in the same class as the previously mentioned Ala Kart. Truly radical George Barris-style customization just might be a thing of the past.

There are several customized motorcycles in this year’s show and at least one of them might be considered radical. I’m pretty sure both of those statements were true of the 1966 Cavalcade as well.

Some of the displayed cars brought back memories beyond attending that show back in the 60s. I have owned a second-generation Corvair, a Chevy Vega, and a C6 Corvette. My cars were not identical to these, however. My ‘Vair was red, my Vega green, and my ‘Vette blue.

More cars are on display on the third floor which is reached via two very long escalators. There are some very interesting automobiles here but few if any could be called customs. I’m guessing that the theme is sports and performance cars, and the mix includes some slightly exotic vehicles.

The long line is not for a car. Several celebrities are slated to appear at the Cavalcade and — for a fee — autograph something or pose for a selfie. I’d spotted a line of folks on the first floor waiting for Henry Winkler to show up. That was a respectable line of thirty or forty but this line is considerably longer (There were at least twenty people behind the point where I took the picture.) and the celebrities it led to were already in place and hard at work.

Having nothing with me that I wanted signed, I avoided the line, exchanged knowing winks with a Miata, and started down the escalators.

Today, January 15, is the 2023 Cavalcade of Customs‘ final day. It opens at 10:00 and closes at 6:00.

Trains, Blues, and Automobiles

This was an incredibly busy weekend in southwest Ohio. A list limited to things I was personally interested in includes the Lebanon Blues Festival, New Richmond’s Cardboard Boat Regatta, and Paddlefest on Cincinnati’s riverfront. Of these three, the only one I had never attended was Paddlefest so that’s where I thought I’d spend my Saturday morning. By the time the day arrived, steam engine excursions on the Lebanon Mason Monroe Railroad had been added to the list of things of interest to me, and predictions of rain threatened all four (and actually did in Paddlefest).

Plans to head to the river turned into plans to stay home but I kept an eye on the weather. When it looked like there might be a dry window in the afternoon, I booked a seat on the LM&M. I figured that, even if it rained, sitting inside a railroad car wouldn’t be too bad.

I looked over the engine and grabbed photos of the station and the car I’d been assigned. Then it was time to board.

I snapped a picture of the other side of the station as we pulled out. The station is beautifully landscaped by the local garden club. It does not play an active role in passenger handling, however; a ticket counter and gift shop are in a building across the street.

The route isn’t particularly scenic. A green wall of foliage is often quite close although sometimes farm fields open things up a bit. There are even a few art displays that seem to be for the benefit of train passengers.

There are three passenger cars on the train. The one I was in has cloth-covered seats; the other two have vinyl. They were built in 1929 but the conductor wasn’t sure when “my” car was built. She said she had heard dates from 1926 through the ’30s. I walked through all three cars to get a look down the tracks.

Just before the train reached the station, I could see that Broadway was blocked off for a car show associated with the blues festival. After exiting the train, I walked the one block up the hill to see classic cars parked in front of the historic Golden Lamb and on both sides of the street for a couple of blocks.

Then I turned off Broadway to stroll past the many vendors to the music stage. A last-minute cancelation had resulted in The Bluebirds, a familiar and favorite band, being on that stage.

During their set, I got shots of Marcos (and his guitar), Bam, Mike, and Pete.

I took off after that and stopped to grab a picture of the train on its last run of the day. There are few things that are as obvious polluters as a coal-fired locomotive and I’m glad that there aren’t all that many running anymore. But I’m sure glad that there are a few.

Fried or Roasted Daily

I usually try rather hard to avoid chain restaurants but here’s one I went to less than a week after it opened. Not the chain — which opened in 2012 — but the latest link. Florida-based Ford’s Garage opened its first Ohio restaurant in the former LeBlond Machine Tool Company powerhouse in Norwood on Thursday, May 5. I stopped in the following Wednesday.

The first I became aware of the chain was when I read an announcement about this one being planned for Cincinnati. Of course, any restaurant featuring ‘burgers and beers has a good chance of catching my attention but it sounded like this place had a little more going for it. It is an official licensee of the Ford Motor Company which allows it to use the Ford name and logo and it uses Ford cars for decoration. It was obviously a place I was likely to visit eventually so I decided to do it sooner rather than later.

The 1917 powerhouse, which was most recently occupied by a Don Pablo’s, is accessorized to resemble an early service station. Gas pumps and a pair of Model A Fords stand near the entrance and there is a Model T and another Model A inside. The cars and the building are of similar vintage. A Library of Congress photo shows the building when it was younger.

The building’s high ceilings allow faux Fords to circulate around the restaurant on a simulated assembly line and a stationary Model A hangs over the bar. A penny-covered wall holds forty beer taps. As I was taking the picture of the taps, a restaurant employee told me there were 21,004 pennies on the wall. I have a suspicion he made that up on the spot but I’m not sure so I’m repeating it.

Of course, it takes more than decor to make a restaurant. There’s a lot more than hamburgers on the menu but that’s sort of their featured item so that’s what I ordered. This is the quite tasty Mushroom & (Tillamook) Swiss. A couple of other things in this picture deserve mention. One is the shop towel napkin inside the hose clamp. The second is the frost-covered surface beneath the West Sixth Porter. About eight years ago I saw a similar setup in a bar in Kingman, Arizona, and figured it would be in every watering hole in the country before I got home. But this is the only other one I’ve ever seen which is not much help at all to my reputation as a futurist.

Despite it being a chain with a plethora of gimmicks, I basically liked the place. The chain is fairly small with twenty stores in five states and the gimmicks are mostly harmless (the napkins) or cool (the cars). One gimmick, however, seemed a bit overly silly to me. I noticed the funnel behind the bar and had vague intentions of asking about it when I overheard one of the bartenders talking about it with a visiting friend. He flipped an unseen switch to open a valve in the transmission (He called it the crankcase.) that allowed some liquid to drop into the funnel and into a glass placed below it. He said it was for a drink called the “Oil Change” although I’ve found no such drink on the menu. As I said, it struck me as quite silly but who am I (a fan of Max & Erma’s double-breasted beer taps) to judge.

Driving Lessons

During the writing of Tracing A T To Tampa, the fact that I had never driven a Model T Ford began to bother me more and more with every passage that referred to some detail about the car that “put America on wheels”. I had seen plenty of Model Ts and had ridden in a few but every comment that I made about the T’s operation came from observation and “book learning”. I wondered about how accurate I was being.

The T that I traced to Tampa is believed to be the touring car in the first photograph which belonged to my great-grandparents. The coupe is a car they owned many years after the Florida trip. It is currently in the possession of an uncle and I considered bugging him for driving lessons but in the end, I went for the Model T Driving Experience at the AACA museum in Hersey, PA. That gave me access to multiple cars in an environment set up for novice drivers. I combined it with a few other items from my to-do list and made a road trip that is documented here. The driving experience is included in day 4 but not much is said about the actual driving. That’s what prompted me to make this blog post.

This picture is one I used in the trip journal. It shows the four cars that students were to drive. I drove the green, yellow, and red cars but the black car, actually a roadster pickup truck, conked out before my turn came. It was replaced by another black roadster pickup, but the top stayed up on the replacement. That’s it in the b&w photo at the top of the article.

The image at left was taken from the “Ford Model T Instruction Book”. Model Ts were often delivered by train or other means directly to a new owner with nothing resembling today’s dealer prep (and accompanying charge). The 45-page book provided all the information necessary to prepare, operate, and maintain what might be the very first powered vehicle the owner had ever seen.

Our cars had all been prepped, of course, and all were equipped with electric starters. Plus, we would have the advantage of a classroom presentation with visual aids. Against the open doorway, the visual aids weren’t a whole lot easier to see in person than they are in the photograph but we all had copies available in a handout. The use of the spark advance and battery/magneto switch in starting the engine was discussed but today the instructors would take care of those details. Students would be dealing with the hand throttle, the steering wheel, and three pedals.

It seemed everyone was familiar with a hand throttle from a tractor, lawnmower, or something similar. And everyone recognized the steering wheel. It is one of just two controls that have maintained the same function from Model T to Tesla although neither can be operated with modern instincts. Most modern cars have a steering ratio of 12:1 or more; the ratio for Ts is 4:1 or 5:1. It is essentially the only thing on a Model T that can be called quick.

This picture of a Model T’s three pedals appeared in the handout. The bulk of student brain activity would be focused on these. ‘C’, ‘R’, and ‘B’ markings identify them as clutch, reverse, and brake. The brake pedal is the other control that technically retains the same function in modern cars as in the T. However, like the steering wheel, how well it performs that function is dramatically different. Today’s brake pedals are mostly power-assisted and hydraulically connected to large disc brakes at all four wheels that will bring a 3,000-pound 60 MPH vehicle to a halt in forty yards or so. A Model T’s brake pedal is mechanically attached to bands that tighten around a shaft in the transmission that will bring a 1,200-pound 10 MPH vehicle to a halt eventually.

Although there is nothing quite like the reverse pedal in modern cars, its function is simple and easy to understand. With the car stopped and no other pedal pressed, pushing it to the floor causes the car to move backward. The idea of “no other pedal pressed” would really apply to all of the driving we would do on this day. The pedals would be pressed one at a time.

Clutch pedals in modern cars are becoming increasingly rare but they do exist and it’s tempting to think that knowing how to operate a modern manual transmission will help in operating a Model T. Not a chance. Almost every instinct developed by driving manual transmissions will only get in the way when driving a Model T. I will expand on this later but today we would be doing all of our driving in low gear which meant that the clutch was engaged with the pedal pressed and disengaged with the pedal released. Yes, driving in low gear did translate to driving at low speed and I don’t doubt that some readers will think that lame. Pshaw. With 4:1 steering in a fairly primitive car with totally unfamiliar controls, 15 MPH was plenty fast.

A Q&A session followed the presentation then we moved outside where instructors reviewed parts of what we had learned using the real Model Ts as visual aids. Next, an instructor climbed into the driver’s seat of each car and a student joined them for a lap around the course as a passenger. The “course” was an unmarked path around a closed-off portion of the museum grounds with an uphill section on grass and a downhill section on asphalt.

The green roadster was the first car I climbed into but I have no pictures of me as either a passenger or driver. Even though I’d read about it and had ridden with others doing it, the strangeness of holding that clutch pedal down to keep moving didn’t completely register until it was my foot doing the holding. I also was a little surprised at how much the throttle was used. It was positioned for easy fingertip access while holding the wheel and adjustments were required for climbing the small hill and at other points too. I also did a lap as a passenger in the yellow speedster. The instructor thought that prudent because of some play in the steering. I managed to hand off my camera for the speedster drive but only have a picture from that first lap. My drives in both of these cars went well in that I didn’t run into or over anything and I didn’t stall either one. That streak would not continue.

Helpful volunteers did snap pictures of me at the wheel of the other two Ts, both of which I managed to stall. In fact, I stalled the cool-looking furniture van twice. At ages of 94 to 108 years, these vehicles are entitled to some idiosyncrasies and they do indeed have them. For the speedster, it was steering. For the red van, it was a dead spot in the throttle. Twice, when I wanted a little more oomph, I moved the throttle a little when it needed to be moved a lot. I have a different excuse for stalling the black pickup. Model Ts have a parking brake of sorts but using it was not part of the day’s normal procedure. There was no need in the level lot. For some reason, the previous driver had seen fit to set it but that did not keep me from reaching the beginning of the hill before the combination of brakes and incline started to bog things down. The instructor figured that out just as the T’s engine chugged to a halt. With that exception, my drive in the little pickup was understandably the best of the day. Operating that strange clutch and using the hand throttle never became 100% natural but, as it is with most things, the more I did it the better I became.

I said I would expand on clutch operation and I’m going to use a detail from an earlier picture to help with that. I’m also going to take the opportunity to describe briefly what happened when I stalled those cars.

Until it is up and running, a Model T’s engine needs to get its electrical power from a battery. A switch on the dash-mounted wooden box controls that. Following a stall, the instructor would flip that switch to battery and maybe make some adjustments to the throttle and spark advance. They would then tell me to press the starter button. In the picture, it’s on the floor. In other cars, it was on the verticle panel below the seat. Once the engine started, the instructor switched things back to magneto operation and away we’d go.

As I’d recently been thinking of my great-grandfather driving a Model T to Florida and back, at some point I began to think about him with his foot pressed to the floor for the whole trip. That really wasn’t required and that lever that the instructor is holding in the picture above is part of the reason. Pulling it all the way back activates small drum brakes on the read wheels. That’s what was going on when I stalled the pickup. Moving it all the way forward enables high gear. With high gear selected, pressing the clutch pedal to the floor still engages low gear, releasing it partway disengages the transmission, while releasing it all the way engages high gear. So, when driving to Florida, push that lever forward, press and hold the clutch pedal until you’re moving at a decent clip, then slowly release it. Adjust speed with your fingers as necessary and let your feet relax.

The museum does not call what they offer a school. It’s a Model T Driving Experience. The certificate I received simply acknowledges that I “completed” the experience with no indication of how good or bad I did or how badly I frightened the instructors. It does not authorize me to do anything whatsoever and that includes bragging about driving four different Model Ts in low gear without stalling two of them. I’m doing that entirely on my own.