[DeTomaso] RV: Trip report for last week - warning, kind of long...

[Charles McCall]

Dear Pantera Diary,
 
Here's the "Reader's Digest" version of last weeks adventure. 2,750
kilometers in the Pantera, nearly a week visiting the chateaux in the Loire
Valley in France, and then the annual trip to the 24 hours of Le Mans. 
 
Hopefully I can get pictures posted somewhere over the weekend or something,
since some of these sights really need to be seen to be appreciated. 
 
In past years we had merely zoomed up to Le Mans for the 4-day event and
rushed back as soon as it was over, spending nearly as much time traveling
as at the event itself, and without having even seen the actual center of Le
Mans the city. As far as we knew, the city of Le Mans was basically made up
of several campsites, a Carrefour grocery store, and a track with really
noisy cars. Now that I am fully into the swing of having 5 weeks of vacation
like all good Europeans, we decided this year to smell the coffee a little
bit and visit some of the surrounding area beforehand. 
 
So we headed out Saturday morning for Nantes, France, where I used to live.
The drive itself was uneventful, with the exception that for the first time
in my Pantera ownership, two Panteras-worth, we had a fully functional A/C
system. It was a novelty to be able to roll with the windows up and have icy
cool air blowing out of the vents. The car is much quieter at 100 mph with
the windows up - heck you could probably even listen to the radio to help
pass the time! What a novel idea! 7 hours later we arrived in Nantes and
visited my old apartment... looking at soil that soaked up oil from having
changed my old Pantera´s fluids in the parking lot out front... Everyone
gets nostalgic about different things... We strolled around the city and I
showed Amaya the sights. We met up with friends of mine from when I lived
there and got caught up on old times until the wee hours. 
 
It was a great visit, complete with the obligatory rides in the Pantera for
everyone (and parents of some of my friends) and then we headed out for
Blois. We had plenty of time, so I told the GPS to avoid highways and take
only backroads, following the Loire river. What a great drive! Very little
traffic, and lots of tiny, winding roads that went through little villages
and took us past innumerable chateaux. We stopped for a few happy-snaps, and
regretted not being able to visit many of them because they really did look
fascinating. But we had our itinerary that we needed to stick to and we'd
have to come back to visit those some other time. 
 
Blois has a fascinating palace that was the center of the French kingdom for
a period way back when. I should have listened to the guide a little more
and I'd know exactly when. We saw where king Henri II ordered his main rival
(the Duc de Guise) assassinated, and had his brother bumped off as well the
next day for good measure. That was enough to get him excommunicated by the
Pope, apparently. The French do a really nice job with their "son et
lumiere", a sound and light show at night with some of their classic
buildings. Got some really nice pictures. 
 
We headed out the next day for Chambord. Once again we followed the Loire
and avoided large roads. We saw farms, chateaux, tractors, bicycles... it
was great! Of all the castles and palaces I've seen in France, this has to
be one of the most impressive. Built in the forest as a hunting lodge, it
was the home to the French court until Louis XIV built Versailles. And it
looks like a French king's idea of a "lodge". It was built to impress his
peers, and it sure impressed me (even if he wouldn't consider me a peer).
The castle has a neat auto-guide format where you type the room number into
your little handset and it tells you what you are looking at. The castle is
nearly fully decorated and was really fascinating. 
 
Unfortunately, it had been raining on and off for a good part of the day. I
say unfortunately because I suspect that somehow something electrical got a
little damp in the Pantera and decided to act up. We left the chateau around
4pm because we had a solid 4 hour drive to go to Chartes, and we were hoping
to spend part of the evening exploring the town. We came out of Chambord, I
pushed the button on my remote that should open the doors and deactivate the
alarm and anti-theft device, but nothing happened. So I pushed the button
again. Doors still locked. Amaya pushed the button. Nothing. 
 
My alarm has a plan "B". On the steering column is a little button and a few
lights. If you open the door with the key, you can disarm the system by
entering a code using the lights and the little button. But I was concerned
because I saw no flashing lights, which should have indicated that the alarm
was armed. Maybe it was disarmed?  I opened the door with the key and the
alarm didn't sound, which was weird. I tried starting the car and it
immediately fired to life, and then just as quickly the immobilizer cut the
electron flow off to the ignition and the engine died. I tried to start it
again and rev the engine to see if it would keep running, but it ran for all
of a half-second and then quit. 
 
I had no idea what to do. I was hoping that perhaps the battery in the
remote had simply expired, and in its death throes was sending a funky
signal to the alarm that left it in a state of limbo - neither activated
(the alarm didn't sound when I opened the door) nor deactivated (it wouldn't
let me start the engine). I didn't believe what I was saying, but I thought
that perhaps a fresh battery would send a good signal and would completely
activate or deactivate the alarm. 
 
So in the pouring rain we went to the various souvenir stores in search of a
battery. Nobody had one my size. Out of ideas, we headed to the Gendarmerie.
I explained my plight to the police chief, who immediately called for a
subordinate. It was kind of surreal because his subordinates were entirely
made up of young women in battle fatigues and combat boots, some 15 of them!
For some reason I thought of a Monty Python skit. He got out his phone book
and began calling around looking for a spare battery for us, and found one
in a village about 15 km away. Did I mention that Chambord is REALLY out in
the middle of nowhere? When the kings wanted to get away from it all, they
really got away from it all! 
 
So Amaya and I piled into the police van and a young gendarme in her battle
fatigues drove us the the nearby town. 2 euros later and I had a new
battery. During the drive back I began to formulate a plan "B" if the fresh
battery didn't perform miracles. The problem was that I just couldn't come
up with a good plan B. 
 
That was a problem because, of course, even with a fresh battery my car just
sat there staring at me dumbly while I pushed the button. The doors didn't
lock or unlock, and the alarm remained just as flaky as ever. 
 
The police chief stopped by to see how we were doing. I think he also wanted
to see the car, but it was nice of him to stop by. He heard me start the car
for the 3 milliseconds that it would run before the alarm cut the life off
and came over to chat. I could see him thinking and he pulled out his
cellphone and made some calls. He had a friend who helped the gendarmerie
out with odd electrical problems (such as the sort you could find in a 15th
century castle I suppose. The wiring back in the 15th century isn't like it
is nowadays you know!) He also just so happened to work in a car audio and
alarm store. Too good to be true! He gave him a call and he said he was
busy, but could stop by in an hour. But based on the symptoms, the brain box
of the alarm had gotten fried and the only solution was to bypass it. 
 
Not having a better plan "B", we waited with the chief in the rain and
chatted. You can get to be good friends when you've got nothing better to do
than sit in the parking lot in the rain and talk. My alarm decided to get
even more schizophrenic and would periodically sound the siren for no good
reason, and then just shut up. We'd go back to talking and the alarm would
sound again. It got annoying so I disconnected the battery. That showed it!
 
His friend showed up a little later, and armed with a voltmeter tried to
learn how my system worked. Between the shrieks of the alarm, he more or
less figured it out. He disconnected a wire and asked me to start it up. It
fired first try! So we took a little spin around the parking lot. So far so
good! Hooking the wire up immediately caused the alarm to sound and the
engine to die. Looks like we found the magic wire!
 
So of course I had to give people rides. First the police chief. The speed
limit in the whole park is 60 k/hr, and I didn't know really how much to
push it with the head of the police in the car, but I ran it to redline
through the first three gears to give him an idea. But when it was time to
turn around, I put my turn signal on, the alarm shrieked, and the engine
stopped. Merde. We are several kilometers from the parking lot and the car
was dead! But I turned the turn signal off and the car started right up.
This was odd... Doing a little test, I put the turn signal on and once again
the alarm sprang to life to let me know that it was defeated, but hadn't
thrown in the towel completely! Well ok, as long as I understand the rules -
the turn signals are actually wired into the electronic brain, and that part
was somehow still active. So turn signals would be out. 
 
A ride was arranged for my saint (the electrician guy), and we turned around
sans turn signals. Great! But we had now lost a total of 5 hours, it was
7pm, and we had a hotel pre-paid 4 hours away in Chartres. However the
police chief insisted that we stop by his house for drinks and to meet his
wife. After having saved our bacon it would have seemed impolite to decline,
so away we went for an icy cold beer. 
 
I was torn because we were really enjoying ourselves and everybody was very
friendly, but we really had to go. Before going, he insisted on giving us
two bottles of wine as a present (him, giving US a present for letting him
bail us out???) and we eventually headed out. 
 
The drive to Chartres was uneventful, but we got kind of lost looking for
the hotel. It was now 11pm, we hadn't eaten dinner, lunch was at noon, and
we didn't know where the hotel was. But a fellow jumped out of the car
behind us at a stoplight and invited us to have coffee out of the blue! He
was a Corvette fan, had one at home, and was heading for Le Mans the
following weekend. Under normal circumstances we would have accepted, but we
had a very early morning the next day and were really looking for a little
less hospitality and looking to have dinner! So we politely declined as best
we could and found the hotel. 
 
We had a lightening tour the next day of Chartes, because much of our free
time had been consumed sitting in the parking lot at Chambord. We saw the
largest collection of medieval stained glass in Europe in the cathedral and
wandered the streets for a little bit. But we couldn't dawdle too much
because Mt. Saint Michel was awaiting us. 
 
Once more we took all backroads as we headed into Normandy. The drive and
subsequent hotel was pretty uneventful, but it was hard to not use the turn
signals. I don't know how many times I started to signal a lane change
before I was rudely reminded that the alarm was only sleeping and would
awaken if provoked. 
 
The next day we headed out under overcast skies to Mt. Saint Michel. When I
brought my old ´72 Pantera to Europe, oh, 9 years ago, I stopped by Mt.
Saint Michel and snapped a picture of the car with the monument behind. I
wanted to re-create the exact shot, so just like last time I sweet-talked
the guard into letting me go past to be able to shoot a picture right in
front. I can honestly say that I had no idea when I took that first picture
back in 1998 that nearly 10 years later I would be standing in the same spot
with a GT5-S, living in Spain, and visiting with my Spanish wife! Life is
funny sometimes. But there I was. 
 
We purposely scheduled our visits to avoid Mt Saint Michel on the weekends,
when it can be absolutely overrun with those darn tourists. Since we arrived
early, it was relatively empty. Our souvenirs from the visit include a Mt.
Saint Michel umbrella, since the heavens opened up and a steady rain fell
for much of the day. The monument is famous for a reason - it really is
spectacular. A fortified city with an enormous cathedral and monastery on
top of the mountain that has withstood attacks for centuries. The
engineering required to design and build such a creature 1000 years ago is
quite impressive, and the site is a must-visit for anyone remotely near the
area. 
 
>From there, we headed toward the ultimate goal - Le Mans. But on the way we
saw signs for the US Military Cemetery, so we stopped by. This isn't the
large one in Normandy, but is a smaller one in the province of Brittany. But
standing in the rain, looking at the rows and rows and rows of white
crosses, the perfectly manicured lawn, while "Taps" was played over a
distant sound system was quite moving. The cemetery is US soil, given as a
gift to the citizens of the US by France. There was a small church in the
center with a memorial to the servicemen inside, and maps showing the major
lines and battles of the end of the second World War. 
 
Once again I asked TomTom to plot me a route to Le Mans that would avoid all
highways, and we really went through no-man's land, speaking of wars. We
occasionally stopped at an isolated chateau to look at it from afar, or in a
little French town for lunch and an espresso. It was slow going, but that
was fine because we weren't in a hurry and the landscape was gorgeous. A few
hours later we pulled into Le Mans and basically immediately ground to a
halt. 
 
We had the misfortune of arriving just before Wednesday night qualifying,
and the traffic was absolutely horrific. At one point I shut the motor off
for a good 15 minutes because we just weren't advancing. It took literally
90 minutes to go from the town of Arnage to our campsite, which was all of 7
kilometers away. Those interested may calculate the average speed. When we
(finally!) arrived at the campsite, Camping Bleu, we found that the system
had changed from previous years. Traditionally, you had a camping pass which
allowed you to enter a large campsite. It was basically a free-for-all, with
no marked campsites. Those who arrived early could spread out and had larger
plots, while the late arrivers sometimes had to squeeze into the remaining
cracks. This year, the ACO (the organizing body) had more or less marked out
plots, and you had to indicate how many were in your party and they would
help you mark off your area. We came prepared with long stakes and safety
tape in order to reserve our campsite, since we would be meeting up with
many people. So we told the helpful attendant that we had 5 cars attending,
we took a lap to check out the campsite and select our 5 plots, and then
marked off "our territory" with the tape. 
 
We set up our tent, and then decided that all that work called for a
celebratory beer. Since we brought no food or supplies with us, we piled
back into the Pantera and headed for the nearby town of Arnage and our
favorite outdoor restaurant. We parked next to a rather special Ferrari
F-40, had the largest and coldest beer I'd had in ages, ate dinner, and
watched the cars. 
 
The next day we went grocery shopping, and then headed back to the campsite
to wait for the rest of our group to arrive. The first to arrive were David
and Edurne, friends of ours from Spain. As usual, David came with a
completely stocked car that included ice-cold beer, sausages, Spanish ham,
cold cuts, Spanish olives, and an entire feast. We were just relaxing in the
campsite when I got a text message from Mike Drew - it was raining, they
were approaching Le Mans in Stephane Bergeron's Renault, and they had Robert
and George behind them in Robert's 1950-something Jaguar Special. 
 
A word about Robert´s Jaguar Special. It began life as a Jag XK120 (or 140,
I forget), and was later converted into a racecar. As such it had no roof.
It had no windows. It had no trunk. It had no heater. I don't remember if it
had windshield wipers or not, but it was really a moot point due to the lack
of roof. So of course it was the perfect car to travel from England to
France in, especially in a weekend where it did nothing but rain! The car
was wonderful! He uses it primarily for vintage racing, and the restoration
is sort of a permanent work-in-process. It was just rough enough to give it
character, but oozed charm and charisma from every pore. (I can say that -
my car had a roof. I don't know how much charm the soaked occupants thought
it oozed after their drive). That night dinner was an improvised affair in
the campsite with the items brought by various people and the food that we
had bought in the supermarket... The last to arrive were two more friends of
mine from Spain, Miguel and Juanjo, who rode in comfort in their Audi but
won't have half the stories to tell that Robert and George can tell! 
 
Friday morning came early, and we kind of organized ourselves to have
breakfast and coffee. Friday morning is one of my favorite parts of Le Mans.
Much of the race is held on public roads, and Friday morning the attendees
typically cruise a part of the course known as Indianapolis, and it is one
of the most amazing sites you will ever see. You'll drive along and see 35
TVR's parked together... 3 Ferrari Dinos together. 20 Marcos. A pair of
F40s. 4 Lambos.  5 Nobles. You'll see another DeTomaso, so you stop and chat
for a while and watch the parade. There go a gaggle of Astons, a flock of
Ferrari, and a gander of Lotus. It is one of the most impressive moving
collections of amazing cars you will ever see. So it was full of illusion
that we headed out of our campsite - 5 cars in all - and headed for
Indianapolis. Imagine my surprise when the Gendarmes had the entrance to
Indianapolis blocked off! What? This can't be! What are they doing? 
 
In the subsequent confusion we got slightly separated and somehow managed to
meet up again at the grocery store. So we went food shopping and tried to
figure out what had happened. It appears that some of the qualifying
sessions couldn't be run because of the heavy rains, so they had shut down
the road to allow the cars more practice time and more qualifying time.
Rats! Of all the weekend, that part had been my favorite!
 
So we headed back to the campsite and the groups split up. We headed for the
pits to see what was happening. After watching the mechanics do their magic
in the "regular" pits, we headed for the classic paddock. Before the main
event, there is a one-hour "classic Le Mans", with the actual cars that
originally did battle in the 50's and 60's. These are the cars that I REALLY
like.. seeing classic Maseratis, Jaguar D-types, Ferraris, Ford GT40's,
classic Astons... Later they allow you to enter the pits and look at the
cars up close, but for the moment they were closed to the public while the
mechanics and teams prepared. However, ever the resourceful one, Mike Drew
had somehow snagged two "entrant" passes and came out, gave one to me, and
the two of us went in. Mike's friend Andy Prill would be driving an original
Ford GT40, so we went to go talk to him for a while. The gear selection
mechanism wasn't working quite right (the GT40 has a ZF transaxle, same as
the Pantera) and they had some other minor glitches to get straightened out.
Mike offered some advice and suggestions, and then we left them to their
preparations. 
 
We headed back to the campsite to watch the action in "burnout alley". This
is the road between our campsite and the campsite across the street, and is
hooligan heaven. Every time an interesting car comes along, a
self-designated burn-out master steps in front to stop them, waits for a
small space to clear in front, and then encourages the driver to entertain
the crowd with a burnout. A surprisingly large percentage of the cars
oblige. It is the only place where you will see burnouts by Bentleys, by a
Ferrari 550 Maranello (that made two laps to do more burnouts), and by a
Lamborghini Murcielago. Some impressive performances were put on by some of
the Caterhams, as usual, and a rather notable performance was given by a
certain white DeTomaso Pantera GT5-S, whose owner wishes to remain
anonymous. 
 
>From there, since the weather was temporarily holding, we headed back to the
campsite for a special treat. Edurne's family is involved in the
organization that manages a prestigious grade of cheese (Idiazabal), and she
and David were kind enough to bring a huge hunk of cheese and a couple of
bottles of wine to help wash it down. So during a dry moment, they cut the
cheese up and served. Yumm! It was a rather large cheese she brought and it
lasted a rather short time. 
 
Saturday morning began dry, which was a good sign. We had a hasty breakfast
because at 10am the classic cars take to the track. Roughly 50 cars took the
warmup lap, and every hair stood up on my arms from the amazing noise of
sheer power as they rumbled by. The green flag dropped and a fantastic
battle developed between a Lola and a Ferrari... The drivers may have been
driving cars worth millions of dollars, but they were here to RACE and they
traded positions and fought elbow to elbow. Unfortunately, toward the end of
the race the Lola ended up in a sand trap, leaving the Ferrari to take home
the honors. After a full hour of watching past glory being recreated our
ears were ringing but we had smiles from ear to ear. 
 
Now we had some time to kill before the start of the "real" race at 3pm so
we visited some of the shops. I bought a huge book on the history of Le Mans
(the race), since I really know very little about how this whole thing got
started, or some of the more tragic or historic events in its past. We had
lunch, and then selected a point to watch the start. 
 
Le Mans these days has a rolling start. The cars do a warm-up lap, the
safety car seeks shelter, the lights turn green, and all Hell breaks loose.
Well, at least that is what has traditionally happened. But, although few
people have realized it, the past era has ended and we are in a new one. The
era of the diesel. 
 
That's right, the winning car at Le Mans last year was a diesel. And this
year, the 5 fastest cars on the track were all diesels. And I decided that I
hate them. 
 
When the green flag dropped during the classic race, I was serious about the
hair on my arms standing up on end due to the wonderful sounds. THE NOISE!
But the diesels whooshed past after the green flag and all I heard was a
very quiet "whooooosh", like a vacuum cleaner at 200 yards. Thinking about
it, since it sounded so much like rushing air instead of a motor I wonder
how much of the noise was the air being displaced by the car? But there was
no NOISE! No glorious howling, popping, spitting flames, the noises that
make race cars CARS! The first five cars tiptoed past (granted, tiptoed past
at a much higher rate of speed than anything else out on the track), and
then finally, FINALLY, came a REAL car. The first of the non-diesels. And it
virtually screamed past. Then came the Astons, bellowing out their warsong.
The Corvettes with their guttural roar that you can identify without
looking. The Ferraris. Those cars, the REAL cars, spitting flames from the
exhaust with each gear change, popping and banging on trailing throttle...
Those are race cars and touch your 5 senses and emotions.
 
I have to acknowledge the tremendous work done by the Peugeot and Audi
engineers in preparing a diesel engine in such a short period of time that
is capable of withstanding 24 hours of racing, and not just withstanding,
but WINNING. As an engineering feat, it is truly astounding. But I really
hope that the future of the sport does not go in this direction as it
removes such a critical element from a race car - the sound. We'll have to
see what happens in future years. 
 
Not long after the race began, another downpour began. Then there was over
an hour of full-course caution as someone piled into a barrier and they had
to repair it. An hour to repair a barrier? So we alternated between seeking
shelter from the rain and watching the action on the track. 
 
The race began as billed - Peugeot vs. Audi, both of them diesels. The
remained of the field was made up of Pescarolos, a pair of Saleen S7s (as
soon as I hit the lottery, one of those will be parked next to the Pantera),
a few Ferrari 360s, a Lamborghini Murcielago that burned to the ground
during qualifying, was rebuilt in 2 days and lasted exactly one lap before
self-destructing during the main event, a pair of Corvettes, a handful of
Porsches, as usual, and some Aston Martins. Quite a varied crowd, and at
least most of the cars still make the right noises. 
 
Saturday was mostly made up of watching the race from various points, and
then we headed into Arnage for a last night's supper. We arrived fairly
late, but as the weather was momentarily cooperating we decided to eat
outdoors. To add a touch of symmetry to the weekend, Amaya and I had dinner
in the same restaurant on the first night with a Ferrari F40 next to us, and
now on the last night a Ferrari F50 pulled in. The dinner crowd swelled as
some friends of Stephane's joined us. A couple at our end of the table
spends their yearly vacations retracing portions of the Paris-Dakar race...
So they drive to the desert in northern Africa and follow the exact route
through the sand dunes and mountains.. Their daughter is now 12 years old
and hasn't missed a year since she was born. You meet some really
interesting people at Le Mans. 
 
Sunday was, well, wet. We did manage to find some good vantage points to see
the racing action. But at about 1:30, 90 minutes before the checkered flag,
we decided that it would be best to begin our trek home. The Pantera does
rather poorly in the rain, and I had an early flight the next morning for
work. So we said our goodbyes, wished all the luck in the world to Robert
and George who were bundled up as best they could to protect them from the
driving rain, and headed south toward Spain. 
 
It was quite slow going due to the standing water on the highway. The
recently repaired A/C was a lifesaver, because the window kept fogging up
due to the cold and rain and the A/C did a great job at clearing the mist.
It took us over two hours to reach Tours, which should have been a 40 minute
trip. Shortly thereafter the clouds began to part and the weather gods
decided that enough was enough and let us continue more or less in the dry.
The rest of the trip was how it should be - uneventful. 
 
The car was filthy when we got home - 10 days of insects, rain, mud, more
inspects, more rain... Each time I saw the car dirty during the trip I
thought about washing it but it would start raining more or less
immediately, making washing it seem silly. Since it was late we just
unpacked and prepared my suitcase for the following day. A good, thorough
cleaning would have to wait until next weekend. 
 
So, looking back on this all, it was one more fantastic adventure in the
Pantera. In any other car it would have just been a long drive with very
little to tell. But it was comfortable, reliable (the alarm problem wasn't
anything DeTomaso related), and, um, quick. We met a lot of people that we
wouldn't have met in a brand X car. 
 
Next year we will most likely be attending the Classic 24 hours of Le Mans
in July, so anyone interested shoot me an e-mail and I'll keep you up to
date with what the plan is. I promise there won't be any diesels on the
track for that event! 
 
Charles McCall
1985 DeTomaso Pantera GT5-S #9375
"Raising Pantera Awareness across Europe"
http://members.aol.com/PanteraGT5S1985/