Here is my first contribution to the Healey Motor News.
I joined the Club in July of 2024. Having just purchased my first Healey, a cute as a bug red 1960 Bugeye, I was at my first Golden Cove and was chased down by Corkey Holt , and the deal was done. Once bitten by that Bug, I quickly accumulated three more Healeys, each more special than the last. I tell my wife I could not love a human baby more than my Healeys. She says I have two children, two grandchildren... and a “problem.” So, when it was time to choose which one of my babies to take on the Bacon Run, I resorted to a time-honored selection process... Enny, meeny, miny, moe. And so, that is how I found myself jamming westbound on Manchester Avenue and Sepulveda Boulevard just north of LAX after gassing up. Luckily for me, the winner of Enny, meeny, miny, moe that day was my black with red racing stripe Bugeye, my lightest and, easiest to push Healey! With clutch fluid pouring out underneath the car and unable to get it in gear (slave cylinder woes), I hopped out and hit the crosswalk button to get a solid green light while my fellow Angelinos honked and yelled words of encouragement to “cheer” me on. Huffing and puffing and doing my best to not get rear ended (again...
a story for another newsletter), I felt the car get faster and easier to push as I made the middle of the intersection.
A quick glance over my shoulder revealed a stranger had joined in on the fun. He said, “beautiful Bugeye, sorry for getting handprints on it!” He actually asked how far WE were going! Clear of that very angry intersection and into the bike lane on the other side was all I cared about at that point (a Bugeye can use the bike lane. Look it up.) Then his wife pulled up and coaxed him back into their car, and he left me feeling relieved to be on the west side of hell and aimed towards home.
Soon enough, another guy pulled up and asked if he could help. By that time my son was on the way with the tow rope (who needs AAA Platinum when you have a truck, a rope, and an adult child who still lives at home?!?! Maybe he will get the hint.) So, I thanked him and sent him on his way. On the tow home another car pulled up, and we moved over to let it pass, but it stayed right behind us. Then I saw he had his hazard lights flashing. He was guarding the rear of our little formation, checking our 6, protecting me from my fellow motorists. I thanked him, and he left us to get my broken Sprite home. In the end, my little Sprite was broken down and didn’t get to go on the Bacon Run. It was stressful, it was not fun, it was definitely not ideal. But it was a first world problem that showed me how, even in the rat race we drive our Healey babies in, with all that is going on, there are truly helpful, kind and good people looking out for us no matter who we are.
Oh yeah, the Bacon Run. Next in line (i.e. parked closest to the street) was my 1959 100-6 BN6. It was gassed up, wiped down and ready to go. I managed to make it to Mel’s Diner right at 7AM, just as the group was heading out. No pre-drive socializing for me. It was a good showing, with a mix of Frank’s Cars in The Hood (lums, I have the shirt) and Healey Clubbers. You could not ask for a better Sunday morning in February to drive up the coast. And since there was some big sports game on TV that day, PCH traffic was lighter than usual. We made good time through the fire zone, and I only saw one constable writing a ticket to a hapless non-Bacon Runner.
Arriving at the Trancas Country Market, we were greeted by Bata Mataja, with his pristine 914, and Monica and Clay Kaytis, buddied up in Clay’s striking 1960 BT7. Clay, having broken a toe, no doubt from kicking some butt, was sporting a boot on his left foot. So, it fell on Monica, with her award-winning Sprite in the shop with broken valve springs (that woman is hard on her equipment), and fresh from finishing TOP OF HER CLASS at the University of VARA (Vintage Auto Racing Association) Buttonwillow Raceway event, to do the driving. By the way, check out Clay’s new carburetors at the next event. His car is as good looking on the inside as it is on the outside.
With the Bacon Runners all tucked into their spots in the lot, we headed over to the market to tuck into their famous low- carb breakfast buffet. There was more lingering at the tables and in the lot than I had seen previously. Some might even have been malingering. After watching Frank Nesta flag down a mystery Corvette and almost get run over by a decidedly impatient female SUV driver (some in attendance called her something less charitable), I was looking forward to some canyon carving on the way home. In the end, it was just the Healey drivers that were up for that. As is the custom, Phil Caliva, in his black over white BJ8, led the way. I kid you not, he said “nothing too fast today, just moderate speed.” Right! I just fired up and held on, with Monica and Clay bringing up the rear to keep me from getting lost in Phil’s dust.
The U turn south on PCH in front of the market, is where the fun always begins. No matter how many times I do it, spinning around to head south in a line with these beautiful cars always makes me smile. Goosebumps even. South we went to Kanan Dume road and up into the Santa Monica Mountains. When you hit the tunnel and hear that Healey exhaust note...
what could be better? After the long climb we turned right at the Cielo Farms Vineyard onto Mullholland Hwy. Recently opened after years of repairs following fires and floods, the famous stretch of Mullholland known as “The Snake” was waiting for us. Phil pulled off at the overlook prior to the descent so we could get a good look and take some pictures of the famous twisties to come. Then down we went at “CALIVA MODERATE SPEED.” I don’t know if Phil uses his brakes, or if his brake lights just don’t work! What a blast. At Las Virgenes Road Monica and Clay peeled off to the north to head home, while Phil and I headed West to Piuma Road. Just past the David M. Brown Overlook, Phil pulled off the road and got out. The view of the ocean above Malibu Canyon was spectacular. He told some stories (what hasn’t this guy done?!?!) and we looked out over Malibu Creek cascading 100 feet down the Old Rindge Dam and on to the ocean. I then turned to watch my 100-6 leak coolant while Phil leaked some coolant of his own. Then off we went, twisting our way down, as Piuma Road became Rambla Pacifico Street. One more canyon awaited us, so we turned onto Las Flores Canyon Road and wound our way down to the ocean. Waiting at the very long red light at the bottom, looking at Dukes across PCH, getting impatient and hot, I knew the fun part was over. Back into traffic and the freeways were all that was left as we headed home. But the memories of that day will stay with me and keep me coming back for more. I look forward to many more meet ups and drives with my wonderful Healey friends and your amazing, iconic cars. I count myself lucky to be part of all of it. Thanks guys.