| Alfa Romeo Rally |
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At their Biennial rally, owners of some of the rarest Alfa Romeos on earth put the pedal to the metal  A crisp October air wraps itself around the gleaming metal bodies of 18 vintage Alfa Romeos parked under towering cottonwood trees. Warming up in the parking lot of the El Monte Sagrado Resort in Taos, New Mexico, the two rows of Alfas are collecting bright yellow leaves that have cascaded down on their classic fenders. Eight-cylinder engines fire to life as Gordon Barrett hops out of the cockpit of his 1932 8C 2300 Touring Spider. He buttons down the engine cover and ratchets down the leather straps on the rear hatch. Easing in behind the right-side steering wheel, he depresses both the clutch and throttle pedal and heads for the highway.  Aiming west for Route 64, an arrow of blacktop across a barren patch of northern New Mexico, Barrett eventually catches up to his wingman, Patrick Ottis, in his 1935 8C Drophead coupe. Instead of reenacting a triumphant pass from a bygone era, Barrett watches as the moment becomes one of agony and prescience all at once. A buzzing string of fellow Alfas blast by at more than 80 miles per hour. Barrett, with 20 years of motor sports pumping through his veins, attempts to hold on to his composure. “Don’t worry; we’ll get them back,” he yells over the howling ambience. “She needs about 20 miles to get fully warmed up before you can really push it.” Barrett and his friends are on the fifth Alfa Romeo 8C tour sponsored by Moët & Chandon, a four-day, 1,000-mile drive around northern New Mexico in celebration of the most iconic Italian car from the thirties. This year’s gathering marks the second time the Alfa aficionados chose Santa Fe as the tour’s first stop. The highways and mountain passes of northern New Mexico are relatively free from traffic, landscapes are varied, and the routes reward driving prowess.  But the real stars are the cars. In roughly ten years of production, fewer than 200 2300s were built, and only 43 2900s, the model numbers signifying the engine size. This biennial tour has attracted notables like last year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance best-of-show winner, a stately and sleek 1938 8C 2900B Touring Berlinetta, driven by former Microsoft president Jon Shirley; the cream-colored Le Mans winner that famed Italian driver Tazio Nuvolari drove in 1933 and is now being driven by Goldman Sachs scion Peter Sachs; and Barrett’s Spider, which in 2005 earned a perfect score from Pebble Beach judges, an achievement that signifies his 8C 2300 is exactly as it was more than 70 years ago.Void of modern features like heaters, power steering, or antilock brakes, the thirties-era 8C had its stout inline-eight-cylinder engine, a svelte suspension, and, of course, dashing good looks. The varied appearance among the 8C models stems from a time when coachbuilding reigned. Handsome coaches were designed by independent manufacturers to fit Alfa chassis. Race-worthy engines, suspension, and wheels supplied the guts, while sultry bodies and wood-trimmed cockpits provided the panache. It was a combination perfected in cars like Shirley’s Touring Berlinetta, whereas others, like Greg Whitten’s 1932 Tipo B “P3” Scuderia Ferrari, were designed solely for competition. Crossing the Taos Gorge Bridge, Barrett’s Spider is still running cold. Lead-foot tour veteran Tom Price, in his 1932 Touring Corto Spider, has leapfrogged up to Barrett’s bumper. Barrett is soon whiffing his exhaust after Price drops a gear to pass. Throughout the tour, a number of drivers can’t resist testing their Alfas’ mettle by touching triple-digit speeds. Not many can say they’ve gone flat out in a thirties-era 8C, so it’s not surprising the price tag is high. A recent and rare public auction sold an 8C Spider for $2.5 million, and private sales easily clear the $10 million mark. That’s masterpiece-art territory, but as I was reminded one evening, you can’t drive Renaissance paintings.  On the other hand, paintings don’t break down and leave you roadside kicking rocks. Climbing up a winding stretch of Route 64 through Carson National Forest, Barrett takes a forlorn glance at the instrument cluster: The battery isn’t charging. “We’ll just push until it quits,” he says defiantly. “That’s the problem with old parts. You try to cover your bases, but sometimes you miss something.” Barrett, a former engineer, has spent more than a decade dissecting Indy 500 race cars. One reason he’s on the tour, he says, “is to honor the genius of Vittorio Jano.” A deity of sorts among Alfa owners, Jano was the engineer and designer who brought the 8C to life. He joined Alfa Romeo in 1923 to evolve the 8C’s predecessor, the 6C 1750. Jano used high-tech equipment to produce superior parts. The 8C would claim victories in all the major events: the Mille Miglia, the Targa Florio, and the Belgian Grand Prix. On the edge of the Jemez Mountains on Highway 84, Barrett’s Spider finally comes into form. The oil has reached the optimal temperature, and the engine’s pistons are sliding effortlessly in their cylinders. Cresting a hill, Barrett’s eyes widen. With a crazed expression, he asks, “Ready to blow some doors off?” And with that, he throws it from fourth to third, spurring the car into a growl. He passes one, then two, then another 8C—and for a moment time rewinds. With nary a hint of modernity save the smooth pavement, he’s racing in the 1934 Mille Miglia. Watch the video Comments (0)
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