Vladimir Kagan's Blog

Nantucket to Stowe Vermont by Model T….. or bust!

NANTUCKET TO STOWE VERMONT BY MODEL T….. or bust!

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, Sunday, June 19, 2011

 

My little Ford

Four wheels and a board

With a little bit of tin

To keep the engine in

That's my little Ford!

 

 

That's our little Ford in Warren Vermont - a 1922 Center Door Sedan

My friend, Dolph Cramer, has owned his Model T Ford for sixty years… I’ve only owned mine for forty. Even before our love for Model Ts we had been ski buddies for fifty-five years….. When Dolphy comes up with a wacky idea, I jump on it. A Model T Rally in Vermont sounded like a cool thing to do while we were both basking in the Florida Sun this past winter. Much correspondence had gone between the two of us… We had been carefully planning this tour for the past six months…. shopping lists of vital parts that needed adding to my car for this grueling trip.… Itineraries came regularly, which I duly filed in my computer for future reading. The plan was to join 28 other Model Ts for a five day Rally in Stowe.

 

Time flies and winter drifted into spring… we did our Turkey trip… and whammo… it was time to get ready for Vermont.

 

Two years ago, Dolph had participated in a cross-country Model T Rally called “OCEAN TO OCEAN” with fifty other Ts. Our tour was to be the first reunion of this stalwart group.

The plan was for Dolph and I to drive our cars at a leisurely pace for 350 miles of bucolic back roads. For companionship and mechanical assistance, Dolph invited two charming Brits, who had driven with him on the tour two years earlier. Both were brilliant Model T mechanics. The “boys” were to help install the vital ingredient: Rocky Mountains Breaks, new tires, a new water pump, a distributor, new timer and sundry other “toys”. Dolph arrived ten days earlier to start the restorations, Then Murphy’s Law kicked in: when things are looking too good… “They aint”.

 To our dismay, both friends unexpectedly bailed one week prior to our departure! Our plans were thrown into a panic... No crew – no repair help and no relief drivers!

 

Ten days to departure: Dolph and I working on my T and resting our backs..the cute car in the center photo bottom is Dolph's 1918 Doctor's Coupe

 There was no one on Nantucket to install the Rocky Mountain brakes; we found an auto repair shop on the island willing to change the tires. (It took two mechanics five hours) Dolph’s overwhelming optimism kept the show going….”Oh this is easy…I’ve done it a hundred times”. Of course it was NOT easy. Changing the water pump took two days and in the process the radiator sprung a leak in the drain spigot that took another two days to resolve. Installing the new alternator took six hands…. No one on Nantucket would touch the brakes… Through an off Island friend, Dolph located a mechanic willing to tackle the job on a day’s notice! Dolph drove my car to Chatham on the Cape on Wednesday night, giving the poor man one day to make this tricky installation. He was an old-timer and knew his stuff…. But Dolph’s optimistic appraisal of one day drifted into two.

 

For moral support and companionship, we went into high gear in search of new buddies. I managed to Shanghai two friends for the trip.... Doug Hughes from Nantucket and Kimo Bailey, who flew in from San Francisco. They were the greatest guys but neither knew how to drive a T, but became invaluable map-readers and four extra hands when trouble struck.

I drove Dolph’s “Doctor’s Coupe” off Nantucket on the Friday noon ferry, to rendezvous in Hyannis at 2:15…. Dolph finally showed up at 3:45… quite content with a box of pizza under his arm… We set off, too late to make our first stop to Worcester in daylight. I had neglected to top off my gas tank and two hours later ran out of gas! As a precaution, I had taken a three-gallon jerry tank, which was; of course empty in my car. (A little philosophical note: We passed a gas station not a mile away from my breakdown: An optimist will drive onward in search of the next gas station…a pessimist, turns back to the “bird-in-the hand is worth two in the-bush” solution.) Dolph, the eternal optimist blasted off into the unknown… and one hour later returned with the gas.

 

Starting off in Hyannis - The crew: Erica, Dolph, Kimo, Doug and me

The first glitch: We run out of gas two hours into our drive

The first hundred miles were the toughest! Too many towns…. too much weekend traffic, easily lost roads and I, a very hesitant driver (having spent the last forty years driving my little car 15 miles a year in local parades) .We arrived at our hotel at 9:30 PM…(Thanks to the GPS, it delivered us through winding city streets right up to the front door).

 The next day we drove 150 Miles: Worcester to Brattleboro would have been a breeze…but we opted to continue on to Woodstock Vermont. 150 miles in one day, in the rain, in a Model T, is not the easiest drive. However, I gained enough confidence to slog it through. The terrain became more mountainous as we progressed…. We arrived at the salubrious Woodstock Inn at 7:30 that night. Exhausted. A hot bath, a good single-malt whiskey and a superb dinner revived us all.

 Driving 150 miles, this was our second night out - staying at the salubrious Woodstock Inn 

Sunday promised to be a short haul: only 75 miles…. seventy-five of the toughest roads over steep mountains and long precipitous descents! Add torrential rains, no windscreen wipers, narrow, winding gutted roads (treacherous from last winter’s frost heaves) and you have an image of our trip.

           

            

            
                                                            The roads of Vermont

            Top - Raindrops on the windscreen.-  Middle: abandoned Barn  - Bottom: Rutted roads

 

A poignant War memorial to soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan

Modern Vermont: Solar panels called "Flowers" they turn facing the sun all day!

I won’t begin to describe how to drive a Model T… it is totally foreign to anything you’ve ever driven. To begin, the break is where the gas is on a modern car, in place of a clutch, a pedal on the left side controls the low gear and neutral; the reverse is a third pedal squeezed into the middle. It is best driven with bare feet to properly control these pedals. Oh yes, and the gas is controlled by a lever on the steering wheel… Rain pours in through every crevice. Communication by cell phone is spotty and hard to hear over the roar of the engine. Fortunately I had taken two walkie-talkies for communication, which worked remarkably well. Seating is cramped and visibility neighs zero in the downpour… brakes are iffy…. In short, it’s was an anxiety trip.

 

Driving "barefoot" with soaking wet socks on my feet

My good sporting wife, crammed into the back of the car, taking photos with her new I-Phone

When we finally met up with the “guys” in Stowe, it became a reunion of a bunch of remarkable people for the rest of the tour: sixty Guys and Gals of all ages and backgrounds. One common denominator: a love for Model Ts. Most had a collection of six to a dozen sitting in their garages all over the country.

                 
                    

                                        Seems like old times... only Model T's on the road


                               

One of the highlights of our tours was visiting Bill Alley's collection of rare antique cars (his collection is tucked away in an unprepossessing barn on a dirt road  only viewable by invitation)

                       

Two of Mr. Alley's rare cars: A 1904 Electric that got 85 miles on a single recharge and buzzed along at a comfortable 45 miles an hour. The second car has a Mother in Law's seat positioned in front of the driver to catch all the dust and bugs!

                      

                A Splendid Brassy (I a'm too addled to remember its name)... I loved the oil lamps

                        

                                    This yellow machine caught our eye for its chic lines


 
Lunch at the Highland Inn before visiting Bill Alley's collection: Erica Dolph and his wife Beatty, who drove up in their glamorous Jaguar - it was a joy to ride in it at night to the various restaurants

 
        A visit to the famous round barn... restored into a restaurant - A churn at the entrance


                                                     

                       

                                    One of the many covered bridges we crossed on our tour

Our host and instigator of this junket, David Steinman, a collector and restorer of antique cars

        
Steinman's 1920 Packard - a restored Jaguar XK 100 - me with a Lanica racer in the process of restoration

                      

                                        Close-up of some of the old Barssies at the Rally

 
                        

                                                Driving through a field of mustard

                         
                         
The "Lymie", a visitor from England... he keeps this car in America and has a full collection in England

 
Signs along the road... just in case you can't read the last one: It's MOOSE CROSSING the next two miles

We managed to log 800 miles of driving. All went well except one horror filled incident on Smuggler’s Notch Mountain Pass. This became an initiation under fire. Two “minor” details were not explained: One - driving up extreme hills, you must have a full tank of gas (there is no fuel pump) otherwise you run out of gas… and Two: Rocky Mountain Breaks are great, but they do not work backwards!

On the steepest incline, in the midst of a sharp S turn, my car stalled out! I started rolling backwards, slowly at first, but as the car accelerated, I stepped on the breaks… there were none!..... It was a panic moment. Other cars skirted around me to avoid a collision. I zigzagged across the narrow road and fortunately drifted into a rocky bank to come to a sudden stop…beyond the bank was a deep ravine into the river! God and good fortune were with us…. Kind people assisted in pulling us out. (Five other cars could not complete the mountain but were more fortunate in finding a space for their U turns). We all drove down the mountain and ultimately rejoined the others for a wonderful day’s drive.

NO PHOTO AVAILABLE OF OUR DILEMMA... we were too petrified to get out of the car 

At the farewell “banquet”, as a reward for my heroic driving, I was presented with four lolly pops and a standing ovation!

 

Erica and Kimo walking to the "Banquet" at the end of the week

 

Would we do it again? You bet!!! But not this year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turkey – part ll

 

Modern Istanbul

Copyright by Vladimir Kagan June 15, 2011

 

Istanbul is two cities in one; last week I wrote of its staggering antiquity… this is a quick overview of our brief encounter with a totally modern, hip metropolis called Tarabya. Developers have taken this once benign countryside and transformed it onto a world-class city within a city.  Luxury High-rises dot the hills, which once bore witness to three thousand years of history and mythology…. Donald Trump has graced it with one of his namesakes, so have Prada, Gucci, Burger King, KFC and Pizza Hut.

 

Exquisite beauties wearing jeans, mini-skirts and designer shoes, grace the streets. You must search in vain for a woman hidden behind a veil. This is the twenty-first Century into the face of antiquity. Architects have built monuments to their patrons. The dominant skyline, overlooking the Bosporus, has even changed the weather pattern of Istanbul. Where once fresh winds from the Black Sea would blow away smog and pollution, these new obstructions divert them.

 

Modern High Rises in Tarabya - Istanbul

Modern office and residential buildings by world-class architects are budding on every hilltop, obstructing the once magnificent vistas. Istanbul is in a building boom, but signs of overdevelopment are showing… Newspapers write of the glut of apartments and affordable prices for those ready to move. In the meantime, modern Istanbul is in a buy, buy mood.

 

Selen interviewing me for Turkish Elle Decor

Selen, a modern Turkish woman

We were overwhelmed by the co-existence of these diverse cultures. Our hostess, a beautiful young journalist typified this dichotomy. Sallen’s interview for Turkish Elle Décor, was well researched… she knew my career. Her questions were concise, avoiding the usual clichés so often asked. She was savvy, intellectual and a devout Muslim, who could succinctly expound the good and generous side of her religion. She spoke fluent English, French and Italian. Many siblings of the Istanbul’s affluent families are educated abroad…. all speak fluent English.

 

The day rambled from our noon interview into a delight afternoon of shopping and into the evening for our last Turkish dinner…. Sallen introduced us to an Istanbul that we, as tourists, would surely have missed.

The Kanyan shopping mall as we approached it by car

 

The multilevel walkways in the Kanyan Mall

 

Our last Turkish dinner: Erica and Selen

In our brief visit to Tarabya, Sallen showed us to the hippest shopping center in town: The Kanyan. Every upscale boutique and designer label was represented. (Laden with a surfeit of purchases, we went in search for a Mandarina Duck luggage store and sure enough, found one. (We are addicted to this Italian luggage as it is lightweight, expandable and easy to recognize on any airline carrousel.)

 

A final note: On June 12^th Turkey voted. The elections were free, the results predictable. Mr. Erdogan’s party the JDP (Justice and Development Party) won 49% of the vote: 326 seats out of 550 in Parliament…the opposition RPP (Central Left Party) took 25.9% and the far right NMP received a paltry 12.9%.... A healthy sigh that Democracy is alive and well in Turkey.

 

 Modern politics in an ancient city

Regretfully, we had to depart the next morning leaving us with an overwhelming desire to return.

 

Our Fabulous Visit to Istanbul

Turkey – part 1

Copyright by Vladimir Kagan June 9, 2011

An arial view of Istanbul taken by our daughter Jessica 

 

 “Istanbul Was Constantinople”, a forgotten ditty that reminded us of the inter-twined history of this ancient city.

 

To bring us abruptly into the 21^st Century, a bomb exploded at 9 AM, during rush hour within earshot of our hotel. It served as a strong reminder that Turkey is not the ancient land of Ali Ba ba and the Seven Thieves, but a modern Islamic country embroiled in a struggle to maintain its secular heritage. Bombs in Istanbul apparently happen with the same regularity as Turkey’s frequent earthquakes.

          

View of the Bosporus from our hotel - day & night - One of the most active waterways in the world, leading from the Mediterranean into the Black Sea

This ancient country has survived these hiccups throughout centuries. Turkey is located at the crossroad of East and West – Asia and Europe. It is interlaced with European, Christian, Islamic, Jewish, Greek, Roman, Byzantine history. Genghis Khan left his mark, so had the Persians and Egyptians. These footprints go back to 3000 B.C.... It is the only Islamic country today, where a Mosque, a Synagogue and a Church co-exist on the same street.

 

A Mosque along the Bosporus at twilight

                        
                     
              I am always looking up at ceilings and love the diversity of arches and vaults

The obligatory visit to the Blue Mosque (which was breath-taking)

 

 

                          Probably the world's largest Turkish rug on the floor of the Blue Mosque

                                         Beautifully robed Arabian ladies visiting the Blue Mosque



 We were privileged to personally see this survival not only in the magnificent Mosques but in two meticulously restored sixteenth century architectural treasures: one a long forgotten Mint on the shores of the Bosporus and the second, an ancient Ha-mam (a Turkish bath). These painstaking restorations, have taken over three years. They were the inspiration of our friends and business associates, who have transformed these ruins into museum quality showrooms for home furnishings. (My furniture has never looked better!) Their tasteful transformation left no details untouched and no antiquity disturbed.

                  

A restored ancient Ha-mam (Turkish Bath) into a modern furniture showroom for DELTA

 

The raison d'etre for our visit to Istanbul - My newest showroom: NICOL, located in a magnificently restored 16th Century Mint on the Bosporus

                                 

 

 

To liven up our travels, our daughter Jessica accompanied us on this trip and made certain that no grass grew under our feet! It was mandatory to visit every Mosque, Bazaar, spice market, high fashion shop on upscale streets and every back-street antiquarian and hole-in-the-wall junk dealer. For food adventures, we discovered hidden restaurants under bridges and tiny side streets that our Turkish friends introduced to us.

 

 Erica and our daughter Jessica savoring turkish sidewalk cafe food

      
Our visit to The Grand Bazaar...there are over four thousand vendors vying for your business from silver, to textiles, to rugs,to lanterns, spices, clothing, leather goods... you name it, they've got it! Of course, I got suckerts into buying the caviar, tons of spices, a lantern and other tourist trappings.

               

                                                    Me as the arch-typical tourist

         

            The back-streets off the tourist track and a little church not far from a mosque




                         

I wanted to see Turkish craftsmen at work and was taken to a small artisan cabinet shop reproducing the most exacting carved details for a chair leg and sofa.

My darling wife, Erica, always adds a comedic touch to our travels and this time, she came up with a lulu! Having eons ago, shared a TV interview with a certifiable lunatic named Erich von Daniken, (author of Chariot’s of the Gods) who made headlines proclaiming that ancient people around the world, came from outer space. She was now quite willing to defend his views because Turkey’s Minarets resemble rocket ships. (Where else would they have gotten this shape?)…. And now Turks are descendants of visitors from outer space!

Erica's pet project: finding minarets in the shape of rocket ships -note  her photo ghosting into the picture as reflected in the car window...(adds to the mystique of outer space visitors)

Istanbul is literally choking on its traffic and people. A city that had stabilized at four million residents, has exploded into a mega city claiming seventeen million residents and even that number is inaccurate as so many people prefer to register their domicile in the rural communities of their origin (thus encouraging revenue shares for these towns and the families they left behind).

Istanbul, like Rome, is built on seven hills. The roads are steep and narrow and to the uninitiated, harrowing as traffic is often two way, on streets built for carts and buggies. It is a city of vast contrast; modern high rises growing like mushrooms, interspersed between the rubble of slums and abandoned 18^th and 19^th century abodes. Navigating these steep and narrow twisting roads is only possible by native courageous drivers. Thousands of people live on the side of these hills, trudging up and down the mountain roads carrying their daily necessities by hand (we marveled at their fitness.) Adding to this chaos, are four hundred new cars registered in the city every day! Driving and parking is a nightmare… No wonder that some of my Turkish friends own no cars, preferring to use buses and taxis as an alternative. The streets are suffocating with traffic and a three-quarter mile distance can take over an hour’s drive. There are no direct road connections between destinations. Each route takes you up and down steep mountain roads to get from point A to pint B.

 

I am a visitor and cannot judge the country’s politics. (National elections are to be held on June 12^th). Unlike, other Mid-Eastern countries, elections here are free. However, the ruling party unabashedly outspends the opposition 100 to one. The Prime Minister, Mr. Recep Tayyip Erdogan, dominates every billboard, every flat side of a building (including twenty story high-rises), with photos of himself.…The city’s normal buzz is drowned-out by blaring vehicles espousing their candidate’s virtues. Mr. Erdogan has custom-built sound trucks the size of a Greyhound bus, his competitors makes-do with minivans. Reflecting sentiment all over he middle east, the local newspaper’s headline reads “ ‘In few we trust’ Turkish youth say”.

 

Turkish people are the friendliest, most hospitable people we have ever met. From our hosts, who treated us like royalty, to the patient tour guides who squired us through the quagmire of Bazaars and back streets, to the vendors in bazaars and antique shops, who assured us, they were doing it for the love of their product and not for the money. It was such a beguiling argument that we scarcely dared to bargain.

According to my daughter Jessica, I “bloviate” (a word she concocted to articulate my ramblings). But, how else can I give you a taste of our singular Turkey experience?

 

Please read my Part ll article on Modern Istanbul in my next posting.