Woodward 2012: Part 1
written by streetsidemechanic | August 20, 2012

You learn early on that you can’t really experience the Woodward Dream Cruise. Take any other car show, even a race, and set it before your mind. You remember certain things about it, right? Little samples of your weekend. You picked examples of what that outing really meant, certain entries, stunts, or performances that truly represent it for you. You dug into those standouts, dissecting them with your eyes, printing them on your brain forever. Twenty years from now you’ll describe with precision the flawless beauty of that particular muscle car, or the way Mr. So-and-so made that unbelievable pass.

Partly due to its format, and partly to its scope, this method isn’t an option with Woodward. I first got an inkling of this while cruising and told my friend Corey so. “You can’t really take it all in,” I said, trying to catch a glimpse of a Caterham Seven or Ford GT40 rolling by past the median. “You just have to sortof skip across the top of it.” The Dream Cruise is 20 miles of eight lanes of cool cars of every era. You’re not going to see them all, and you’re not even going to get a great look at any of them, save the ones parked.

And there were plenty of stationary beauties. After cruising for over two hours (which I’d resolved at first to only be an hour), we finally parked so I could get a closer look at a McLaren F1 we saw along the way. We found a free spot a few blocks west of Woodward and hoofed it, camera in hand, until a masterpiece of yellow and black caught my eye.

I first read of the 1970 Buick Gran Sport GSX Stage 1 over a year and a half ago, writing one of my <a href=first bits for Streetside, about hood-mounted tachometers. I saw the honey-bee color scheme, I saw the little bump on the bonnet. It was a perfect example, thrusting me into a 1969 showroom, soft-lit through big, modern windows with a golden, Pacific brilliance. There wasn’t a fingerprint on the paint or a crease in the leather. We had to go.

That’s when I finally admitted what Woodward really is. It’s not an event, something to be understood and filed away in memory with searchable keywords. It’s an idea. It’s rather like a mountain range or a moon or a well-chartered nation. You know you’ll never get to see it all. You can’t get pictures of every car. You can’t listen to each individual exhaust trumpet. When we got to the drag, the McLaren F1 was gone, but I almost didn’t care, because a real Falcon F7 was in its place, next to a bare, bodiless tub and chassis that make up its lightweight foundation.

Woodward is a broad, blanketing experience. You find you enjoy it more if you just take joy in the fact that you know it’s there, that it’s really happening, that we live in a world and a country in which such a thing is not just possible, not just legal, but encouraged and even celebrated, and that you get to be a part of it, even if you’re driving a Japanese car with a puny little (if turbocharged) 2 liter engine. If you get to experience the Woodward Dream Cruise, don’t try to chew it all up. Don’t take it apart. Just run your heart over it, like a gloved hand over the pristine coat of that GSX.

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Woodward 2012: Part 2
written by streetsidemechanic | August 24, 2012

On Monday I was happy to wax poetic about the mythic pilgrimage I took to the Motor City’s Woodward Dream Cruise. I gassed on and on about how one shouldn’t try to experience Woodward through specific impressions or snapshots.

So now it’s time to share a few specific impressions and snapshots. Here are a few things I learned, saw, and I did during my odyssey.

Ford GTs and Zack’s Hot Dogs are still awesome. On Friday Corey, his wife Victoria, and I all packed into Corey’s 1st gen Avenger and headed out to lunch. Our destination was last year’s favorite: Zack’s Hot Dogs. I selected and consumed a battered, deep-fried, bacon-wrapped, cheese smothered dog, and it was ridiculously good.

Even better was the Ford GT we saw cruising on the expressway after lunch. There are worse things to get stuck beside in traffic. We heaped the driver in smiles and thumbs. He smiled and waved back.

2012 Woodward CruiseThe locals aren’t all crazy about Woodward. Corey’s a tremendous comic nut. I look up to him in this respect. (He wants to turn his Avenger into an Avengers-themed car, with a Hulk-fist imprint on the roof.) So we stopped at his local comic book watering hole. He asked the proprietor if he’d be heading down to the cruise at all. “**** no!” he shot back before describing, in printed detail, how much he hated the traffic, and lamenting that his girlfriend was trapped on the other side of the great cosmic rift that was Woodward.

Sunday morning at church we had a similar experience, though this plaintiff was more upset with the “rules” the Detroit-area PD had placed around the Cruise, ruining it from what it had been ten years ago. Apparently they no longer let you do burnouts or light-to-light drag races. Detroit must be pretty fun every other day of the year.

It’s not a car show, but there are judges. Speaking of burnouts, during the cruise itself, I had a conversation with a lawn-chaired spectator. He and his family had made Olympic style number cards to judge exhaust notes. I revved my little boxer heartily, and while my muffler is basically an empty can on a pipe, it didn’t compare to the beefy baritones of the American muscle around me. The judges liked it nonetheless. “Spin the tires,” shouted Dad. “I can’t! It’s all-wheel-drive!” I replied. “Then spin ‘em all!” I decided against an attempt.

Several other groups judged the muffler music along the cruise. An audience makes everything better, even something you think could scarcely get better at all.

2012 Woodward CruiseThe imports were hiding. To say that there is a shortage of any category of cars at Woodward is a bit of a misnomer. But there are so many Mustangs, Camaros, Chargers, Falcons, Grand Nationals, Challengers, Thunderbirds, Corvettes, and Vipers, that you start to naturally look for the rare and different. A ruby in a pile of diamonds will draw your eye. I started seeking out the imports. I really wanted to find a Caterham Seven, but didn’t.

Corey and I schmoozed over to the Auto Europe dealership so we could check out the Morgan 3-Wheeler out front and were surprised to see it in the company of a new Lotus Elise and a $175,000 Morgan Aeromax. Inside the open, breezy showroom we found another Morgan, a Plus 8, a very nice Aston Martin, and something I’ve never seen in all my long years: a Noble M400. It refracted the florescent ceiling lights into a thousand pointed dreams and fired them all at my heart.

Other imported gems met us along the way. We saw a ridiculously terrifying FD Mazda RX-7 with a pizza-sized turbo that made me cringe for the poor apex seals; a stable of brand new Ferraris, including the luscious FF; and a brand new Porsche dealership, which last year was just an empty hull to shelter us from a sudden monsoon. A Porsche dealer on Woodward is a good sign for Detroit.

So much beige. Another good sign for Detroit: a huge turnout. At first I was getting a little fed-up with the profusion of Camrys, Accords, and sundry other commuter cars out cruising. I knew they weren’t intending to be viewed like the classics, and were just cruising with them as was permitted by the laws of the kingdom. But I was worried that it meant a lack of enthusiast cars.

Now, however, I think it’s a good thing there were so many mom-mobiles and throwaway daily drivers out there, because it means that while enthusiast cars may be on the wane, enthusiasts themselves are waxing. Joe Maxima at least knows he’s driving a refrigerator, and longs for a day when he’ll be able to trade it in for a Chevelle SS.

Stories forge the day. As we rolled onto the drag at the start of the day, I asked Corey if he was ready for me to tell him about cars. All day. I need more friends like Corey, because he agreed. So I told stories. I described the Malaise Era and how the Buick fired a cannon during peace time with the turbocharged Grand National. I sang the Lay of Ford and Ferrari, about how the GT40 was born out of a gentlemen’s disagreement. I talked about the Meyers Manx, the rotary engine, the Ford Thunderbolt and why it only had one windshield wiper. I told him about the Cord 810, one of the most beautiful and advanced American cars ever built.

Don’t cruise Woodward alone. If you know about cars, you’ll want to valve off your knowledge about everything you see. And if you don’t know about cars, you’ll want a guide.

I should still have a couple of seats open next year.

This was the first new Morgan 3 Wheeler I saw in person. It was in attendance for last year’s Woodward Dream Cruise, and spent time both cruising and parked on the sidelines. I really loved the flying tiger fighter plane inspired livery, this car is about fun and this look adds a level of badass appeal. The 3 Wheeler is very cool to see on the road because it is so unlike anything around it. Hopefully I can find a way to drive one soon for a review. Enjoy the pics.