Here’s another unexpected treat I found at Goodwood last week: seeing old friends again, of the meat and metal varieties. Up there with me is Alex Goy, who’s done a bit of writing for us, but is also the other person in the Lone Picture of Me Where I Almost Look Cool, taken in 2015 as Alex and I drove in the Mille Miglia race around Italy, in an incredible 1952 C-Type Jaguar best known by its number plate, PUG 676. Well, not only did I get to see Alex at the show, I got to see PUG again! Don’t tell Alex, because he may get pissy, but that was the real treat.
Looking inside the metal tub that makes up the inside of that car, a whole brainload of sensory memories came pouring back in, of co-driving stints I did in that car with Alex and also the car’s colorful owner, Ben Cussons. Those memories weren’t exactly comfortable ones: the inside of that C-Type is hard and sharp and hot, hot enough that Alex’ shoes were melting as he drove.
Plus, I remember Ben’s driving style was, um, spirited. As I wrote back in 2015:
Ben’s guiding philosophy when it came to driving and passing was to just stay on the throttle, and the universe will sort of re-arrange itself to accommodate you, somehow. He maintained that it was when you let up that things got nasty. This, of course, was also the man who discouraged me from using the vestigial seat belts because he maintained I’d “rather be thrown from the wreck.”
The thing is, Ben wasn’t ever wrong. Somehow, every time, a gap in the right lane did materialize, moments before I was sure we’d end up inside the engine block of an Iveco truck or apologizing to the family in the overturned Multipla. Ben had a special connection with this car — he’s had it, and, more importantly, been really driving it for over 25 years, and he’s so comfortable and in tune with the car that he basically wears it and uses it like a colossal prosthetic. It just becomes part of his body.
The Mille is run on public roads and no attempt is made to close the roads, so a lot of my memories in that car were of leaning over the side at speed to see if we could actually squeeze through some alarmingly tiny gap in oncoming traffic. It was, um, invigorating. A great way to invigorate the pee right out of your bladder.
Cars are like memory storage devices, unlocking teraneurons of data when you encounter them after a long while. PUG is one of those storage devices for me, and I’m so happy I was able to say hello again at this tiny little reunion.
Ben sounds like a self-centered dick. I say this as the world’s foremost expert on all parts of that statement. 😛
I’m glad you to to catch up with Alex – that pic of y’all is an awesome one. I too would love to have the opportunity to ruin a pair of shoes in that manner. I do hope Alex is doing ok – I know he’s had a rough few weeks. Ask him to write more for The Autopian!
I know you’re doing the modesty bit but there is no question the picture of you and Alex in the Jag is hella cool. I’d do very bad things to be in a photo like that.
The Mille is on my bucket list. I hear it is an exasperating, exhilarating, and expensive experience.
I might be blackballed because I once held a “Cento Miglia” event for the local Austin Healey club. Somehow the Mille lawyers saw our online club website and sent me a sternly worded cease and desist letter.
Clearly Torch went Hollywood long before Tracy’s recent decent into madness.
On screen, Alex always appeared to me as being about average height. And I know Jason is a fellow short king, but the scale of these old photos shows that Alex is actually somewhere around 6’2″. This leads me to believe that Henry Catchpole is 8′ tall and must be stopped before he crushes an unsuspecting hypercar or restomod maker at an exclusive reveal.
I know this is irrelevant to PUG and maybe even The Autopian altogether, but it’s important.
watching Catchpole cram himself into small sports cars is a hobby, I must admit.
I’m 6’2″, and Alex was a tad shorter than me, although I have ridiculous hair and was wearing equally ridiculous boots. I also took the picture, sparing Torch any further height related embarrassment by appearing in it.
More evidence! It’s all connected!
it’s giving train conductor
Jason, I know you didn’t pick the outfit, but it has a taste of flight attendant to it.
If it gives a flight attendant vibe, which it doesn’t, Jason is carrying it off with old-school panache. Fight me.
My first thought was hotel concierge, but that is just a short hop from flight attendant.
Short hop? I think that’s sums things up nicely.
So this C-type sent you off on a memory jag?
The “Goy, not a goy” photo label from one of those old articles was a real treat