This article was first published in issue 003 of the speedarticle Post.
Rental cars are a waste of money. Why pay someone else's debt down when you can voraciously surf Facebook Marketplace looking for something that will bleed you dry, potentially break down, and totally blow up any work plans you had? Spend thousands, and potentially never make it. But probably most likely make it. It’s 2024, We were heading to Monterey to scout for Sportscar Vacationland, an event Overcrest was putting together with Mobil1. We needed a car. Not a rental. A car.
Facebook Marketplace, again, was fruitless. I put the call out to the Overcrest community. Help me find a car. A sideways car. Not some marketplace deal. The best cars drop into your lap. You don't find them, they find you. No amount of clicking, swiping, and "is this availables" will substitute for the good nature of a friend, or a friend's friend, or his aunt, or his aunt's aunt’s third cousin. Sideways wins. Always.
Sutton Morris, of Morris Motors in Sacramento, hit me up. Sutton is an odd bird. He’s quiet and reserved but clearly holds devout and particular opinions on classic car ownership. Walking around his shop with him gives you the opportunity to hear stories about dust covered projects, dreams, and cars that will definitely be someday. The options were: a 123 Wagon (I've owned too many), a W108 with a 4 speed (not yet, someday, but not yet), a 2006 XLR (lost me at two thousand...), an E46 M3 (too hot boi), and... an E23.
Not just any E23. Content creator and well used vehicle enthusiast John Ludwick's E23. The one he built for the Utah rally, and that Sutton drove in Arkansas one. A manual swapped, red interior, euro bumper, stance dialed, patina queen. A sideways deal, an Overcrest icon, from two good Overcrest friends. Bonus: Jasin Larson, my quiet and steady co-driver, was coming with. We all need a man in the passenger seat that laughs at unfunny jokes and passes the beef jerky without complaint. Perfect. Done. Money wired. Flight booked.
Me: "My flight arrives at 4:30pm."
Sutton: "You want to be picked up in something cool?"
Me: "I mean yeah, but... I'm just happy for a ride."
There are very few airport pickups that can exceed the goosebump inducing surprise of seeing a Lancia Delta Integrale Evo 2 drive up to the curb. The most incredible airport shuttle of all time. I was lucky enough to get some alone time with the Lancia on the way to pickup the E23. The only thing in my mind was that it would be "super great." You build up cars in your mind, and then they almost never live up to the hype. I've driven a lot of things, many of which I was too immature to appreciate. An Alpina B6 disappointed, so did a Ferrari 330 GTC. I feel now, if I were to experience them again, things would be different.
The Lancia was good. So good that I broke it.
Thwapity thwip.
"What was that?"
"I have no idea..."
It didn't take long to find out. About 20 feet later, as we coasted up to the turn, there was no power steering. That was it. My time with the Lancia was over. Bummer. In hindsight its greatest asset was its grip. Unexplored amounts of grip. More grip than you can find on an Integrale that isn't yours. It had been nimble without being nervous. It tempted me with "disrespect me right now" vibes. I didn't, and it threw the serpentine belt to spite me for not letting it wrap its legs around me. I guess I'd just have to move on to the E23.
It was perfect for the work ahead except for one thing. The wheels. I felt like I was dating a girl that still had an engagement ring on. Wheel choices are personal. There isn't anything you can do to a car that defines it more than wheels. John picked out what was on the car, and I couldn't bear to drive with them. I needed my own. There were a few around Sutton's shop. We tried them out and did a tire version of musical chairs, settling on some Pininfarina/BBS five spoke two piece wheels. They were bricks, but they weren't sentimental to Sutton, and they fit. It isnt a wheel you marry, but they were cool, that was for sure. A Pininfarina BBS collaboration born from the late '80s and early '90s. Not period correct, but close enough for horseshoes. It is a game after all. But one problem still existed. The tires didn't fit.
Not only did they not fit, but they were more egg shaped than circle shaped. 215 in the front instead of 225 made things look strange. It's like going outside without your laces snugged up on your shoes, or having half your shirt tucked in on accident. It wasn't your choice, but everyone else looking doesn't know that. You just look like an idiot with your shirt half tucked in. It's the same thing with fitment. Most people would never know, but the ones that do? Do. The old tires were mismatched and cupped, oblong, and ancient. The car pulled to the right and undulated noticeably at lower speeds. It was unenjoyable to say the least. The car made it down to Monterey okay, vibrating itself, and Jasin, and I, over the entire three hour journey. With a day off, we hit Facebook Marketplace. Recaros. Steering wheels. BBS. E23 parts, and... tires. After a few days of sleuthing, the algorithm was dialed in.
225/50/16 is what fits the car, and the wheels. I was standing in line at Costco with a giant bag of beef jerky when a text came through. I had an hour and a half to drop the beef jerky and make a two hour drive to some nowhere place to get a set of used, damn near new, tires. In typical fashion, the California traffic was brutal.
I didn't ever learn any of their names, and English was tough. The care taken was the language they spoke. They flat out just gave a shit, and it showed. The garage was filled to the rafters with tires. Careful writing on each one designated the sizes. Things were clean, organized, and well executed. It took about 45 minutes to swap the tires, balance them, and even drop them in the dunk tank to check for leaks. If these guys were local to me I'd never look anywhere else for tires again.
With the stance sorted out, it was time to take the long way home.
