Riding shotgun in the Lime Rock Park Historical Festival parade

Photography by Bill Wolf

Call it just plain car guy luck. I got to ride shotgun in Lime Rock’s famous Historical Festival parade.

Among the gathering of Aston Martins, Jaguars, Corvettes, Porsches, BMWs, MGs, Morgans and Mustangs, et al, were three historically significant superstars. Since John Fitch is practically synonymous with Lime Rock, it was no surprise to see the prototype and only example of his low-slung, Corvair-based Phoenix Prototype or the semi-swept-back 1968 Corvair Corsa Fitch Sprint. How about watching the 1968 Penske-Hilton Sunoco Z28 Camaro charge through Connecticut asphalt turns as well?

My friend Mike Serpe was invited by Skip Barber and Walter Irvine (Lime Rock VIPs) to bring his 1972 Rolls-Royce Corniche two-door saloon to the track. Although a rare and coveted motorcar, it seems counterintuitive that it would be part of the assembly of race cars, but Mike is not restoring his classic to, say, concours quality. Instead, he is converting it into a rally car.

You just have to admire the imagination and courage of someone who would, in essence, change the personality of such a valuable car from a Sunday afternoon cruiser to a hardscrabble competition machine. Even from the passenger seat, it was a blast to be circumnavigating this hallowed circuit where so many superstars had gone before.

As the parade wound its way through village, hamlet and town, we were hailed by groups of spectators cheering us on. Whole families waved from their porches and front yards. Main streets were lined with people absorbing the sound of race engines and admiring the stream of vintage autos. Mike is an experienced driver; racing vintage Porsches is one line on his resume. Cornering with drift, speed and assurance–hang on and keep smiling!

The parade ended in the tiny town of Falls Village where the parade cars were parked and displayed. Drivers and their passengers mingled with townsfolk who surely enjoyed this bevy of cars that, in many ways, represented the crème de la crème of classic machinery. All too soon the bark, rumble, growl, and snarl of race bred engines filled the azure Connecticut sky as the parade participants took their leave. Car-wise, it doesn’t get much better than this.

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