The 1985 Transcontinental Reliability Tour, Portland, Maine to Portland Oregon

Written by Howard and Judy Henry. Originally published in The Bulb Horn, 1985, Volume XLVI No 3.


Ever since the 1982 Transcontinental Tour, many of us had been looking forward to the 1985 tour across Canada. It had been in the planning stage for some time, but early literature from perennial Tour Director Millard Newman indicated it would go from Portland, Maine to Portland Oregon, and nearly the entire route would be through Canada. We would visit the stately cities of Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Winnipeg, Regina and Vancouver. We would also stay in communities with provocative names like Callander (the home of Dionne quintuplets), Wawa, Thunder Bay, Moosemin, Moose Jaw, Swift Current, Medicine Hat, Kamloops and Hope.

The parking lot at the calgary sheraton.

The parking lot at the calgary sheraton.

There were more applicants for the 1985 tour than any of the five proceeding trips. The printed triptik listed 62 entries, of which five were no shows. Former tourists Philip and Emmy Peterson removed their names because of illness, and Phil died just before the trip ended. Millard announced the sad news, hoping expressions of sympathy could be passed on to Emmy.

View of Harbor at portland maine, the starting point.

View of Harbor at portland maine, the starting point.

Generally speaking, the cars had been well prepared for the long, grueling trip. Car collectors in Canada remarked that it was the greatest assemblage of powerful early automobiles (1914 and older) that they had ever seen. But let it be known that the four Model T Fords, owned by Bud Catlett, John Drew, Peter Morgan and Robert Word, made the trip without missing a checkpoint. Peter had to replace his engine in Ontario when a connecting rod let loose, but found a 1912 replacement motor, installed it in minimum time, and completed the trip.

Determination and cooperation among the tourists is the name of the game on a transcontinental tour. Everybody that could be of service went out of his way to help his fellow man. Parts, tools, know-how and the trailers that were available, all pitched in to keep the old cars on the road and running as smoothly as possible.

It has been my experience that the smaller the community, the more helpful they are. A city mechanic, unless a real specialist, shies away at the mention of a Bosch magneto, T head engines, or water pumps that look strange and unorthodox. Some carburetors are even connected to a water driven governor. Unfortunately, our Packard developed a crack in its gas tank a few miles away from Wawa. Because the tank is pressurized and was under 2 lbs. pressure at the time, gasoline poured out and naturally the car stopped. Fortunately, Ben Caskey happened along with his beautiful car carrier, and we located a body shop and the manager went to work to solder the hole. He was a skilled radiator man and seemed all the more so as he only had one hand. The solder job lasted the entire rest of the trip.

The tour really started off in lobby of the Portland Maine Holiday Inn. Susan Young, as usual, was in charge of registration and seeing that each participant got the right things in his tour kit. It better be right, because Susan was taking off the following morning for her homeland. We would be fighting black flies in Maine while she would be enjoying fall in New Zealand.

Cars were to be at the Safety Check on the street behind the Holiday Inn all day Saturday. The technical and safety committee, with Ernie Gill as chairman, were to make deductions for non-authentic ignition, cooling and carburation. Advisory checks were made on brakes, lighting and general motor functions, the purpose being to ensure that the cars would be reasonably roadworthy. Corrections and additional work was put into certain cars and, hopefully, it was going to be Portland, Oregon or bust!

The morning of June 16th was the official start of the tour. We lined up in a cold rain and took off for Waterville, Maine under police escort. It always seems no matter how efficient the police may be, traffic lights and traffic in general break up a cavalcade. A parade of nearly 60 antique automobiles seems to be beyond normal traffic control. It has always seemed to me that nothing can scatter further apart in a period of a few hours than a group of old cars. When we arrived at our motel in Jackman, Maine we heard that there was a big bull moose near the highway. We road up the road in a friends’s car and saw the huge beast. We were able to watch him for nearly 10 minutes, and he was one magnificent animal. The passage through northern Maine was beautiful. Clear rivers, lakes and streams were all around us, and what villages there were appeared neat, tidy and well painted. It gave every evidence of being a camper’s and hunter’s paradise.

Arctic WaterShed.PNG

All International Borders should be like the one between Canada and the United States. You bring passports, car titles and miscellaneous identification and find that all you need is a driver’s license and proof of insurance. After crossing the border, we found ourselves in a metric world. One advantage on the highway is that distances seem to pass more quickly. That “80 speed limit did not affect us much because we don’t go that fast anyway. Temperature in Celsius was another headache. For example, normal body temperature is only 37 degrees.

Quebec is a beautiful city. The old section is especially picturesque and the restaurants are as good as they look. The drive from Quebec City to Montreal was gently rolling, and we passed hundreds of beautiful farms. Quebec farmers are proud of their farms, and nearly every silo had the name of the owner spelled out in large letters. We had beautiful views of the St. Lawrence River all the way to Montreal, and then the reality of modern civilization really hit us. The traffic was dreadful and unrelenting. there were miles of it, and at every cross street there was a big, bright, red light. We finally made it to the Chateau Champlain where we had stayed on a previous tour.

Montreal is a big city with a population of over a million. Its old Post Office has a bronze plaque stating that Benjamin Franklin helped start their postal system. The stately Canadian Pacific Railway Station and the quaint colonial homes near the river in Old Montreal were sights to be remembered. We were fortunate to have gotten the name of a small French restaurant and joined John and Diane Grundy for the evening. It seemed wise to get a taxi, as we were having trouble with the traffic and our rusty French. We got to see most of Old Montreal as our taxi driver got lost in spite of the printed address he had with us. All turned out well - we found the rue and the taxi driver went up the one way street the wrong way - very determinedly. He proudly announced the name of our eatery as we pulled up.

We left Montreal on a cold and cloudy morning to head up the Ottawa River for the 120 Mile run. We could see the mountains in the distance to the north, where Mount Tremblant became one of the earliest ski resorts.

After a checkpoint in Ottawa, several of us ended up at Lookout Terrace overlooking beautiful Lake Nipising. The motel is located just south of North Bay and happens to be where Mrs. Dionne gave birth to the famous quintuplets in 1934. They were the first quints to live more than a few hours after birth. Quints appear only once in every 57,000,000 births.

The next morning we motored up to North Bay and turned west on the Trans-Canada Highway (now Canada 17). In Quebec it was Canada 40 and on the Ontario-Manitoba boundary it would become Route 1. We continued west on the Trans-Canada Highway for many miles on the north side of Lake Nipising, and after about 150 miles we arrived at Sudbury, a city of about 100,000 people. It is home of the world’s largest single smelting operation. We took the opportunity to visit the mine where, properly booted and hard-hatted, we took an elevator down a shaft and toured the underground rock passages for an hour. It was well explained to us, including rock boring and drilling, emergency mine procedures and even the opportunities to row vegetables and other plants in the depths with the help of ultra-violet lights. Sudbury is also the home of the Canadian Numismatic Park and the famous “Big Nickel”. This reproduction of a 1951 Canadian nickel is thirty feet in diameter and is two feet thick. Standing atop a mountain of slag and tailings, it is a spectacular sight.

The next day we motored through former mining country, timbering operations, and attractive well-tended farms on the north. Lake Huron was to our south for almost the entire day’s run, with its numerous islands in plain view, although rain squalls limited our vision. It became colder and the rain poured down harder every day. We had expected cold weather in Western Canada and moderate to warm weather in the eastern and central portions, but time would show that our surmise was incorrect. When we stopped at Sault Ste. Marie, it was incredibly windy.

Dr. Bob bell watches Jim thomas suck oil from his knox

Dr. Bob bell watches Jim thomas suck oil from his knox

There are really two Sault Ste. Maries. The Canadian city has a population of over 80,000, while the U.S. town has about 15,000 people. They are separated by the St. Mary’s River which can be navigated by passing through the Soo Locks. The locks are necessary because Lake Superior is 22 feet higher than Lake Huron. Many of our group took the our boat up the river and through the locks, while others changed oil and greased cars. The faithful Quaker State representatives were on hand to give out oil as scheduled. They were more than helpful in keeping us in lubricants.

At Sault Ste. Marie our long and close association with the northern part of Lake Superior was about to begin. The weather got colder, windier, rainier and nastier. The terrain became more up and down. It was not only rolling country, but extremely rocky to the point where one wondered how even a pine tree could grow. We motored by hundreds of lakes in all shapes, sizes and altitudes, and all were unspoiled by fishermen, summer cabins or the noise of outboard motors.

many signs of moose were seen along the way, very few moose.

many signs of moose were seen along the way, very few moose.

There were many sections of the road where blasting had been done through solid rock. It was 440 miles from Sault Ste. Marie around Lake Superior to Thunder Bay, with many rivers pouring into the greatest of the Great Lakes. We spent the first night out of Sault Ste. Marie in White River. It was such a small town that if it had had city limit signs, they would have been back to back, but it did have one questionable claim to fame. There was a monument of a thermometer registering 72 degrees below 0 F and the logo “Coldest Spot in Canada”. White River introduced some of us to a new way of life. Both our evening meal and breakfast were eaten, not at the motel, but at the gas station, which also carried gifts, postcards and other items. We found as we traveled along the Trans-Canada highway that many gas stations served meals and other unrelated things. It was a convenient relationship, and the meals were good. As we left White River, it became evident we were really in the North Country. Sunset was postponed to nearly 10:00 and it became difficult to remember what time zone we were in.

Near White River was the Trans-Canada Highway marker showing he halfway point between St. John’s on the eastern tip of Newfoundland to Victoria B.C. The official opening of the highway for through traffic took place on September 3, 1962. It took me back to the year 1930 when my father, brother and I went fishing on Lake Nipigon, a little northwest of where the marker stood. I can see why we took the dreadful little wood burning train, complete with sparks and cinders, from Duluth up to Orient Bay on Lake Nipigon. The train had wooden seats, oil lamps, Indians and none of the comforts of home.

From Nipigon southwest to Thunder Bay, the islands in Lake Superior were beautiful. Isle Royal (a U.S. Park) is nearly fifty miles long. It was near here that Terry Fox, the young cancer hero, was forced to stop his run. In part, the monument says: Terrance Stanley Fox, July 28, 1958 - June 28th, 1981. “Dreams are made if people only try. I believe in miracles…I have to…Because somewhere the hurting must stop.” Terry Fox ran more than 3,000 miles across Canada (with one wooden leg) to raise money for cancer research.

Large Moose.PNG

Thunder Bay is a relatively new city, having been formed in 1969 by combining Fort William and Port Arthur to make Canada’s third largest port. Its main export is grain, and storage facilities exceed 100,000 bushels. The extra day at Thunder Bay gave us a chance to work on some of the cars that needed it.

Our route took a 90 degree turn to the right and we found ourselves heading northwest through the biggest assortment of lakes we had seen to date. We had been driving through the amethyst country for some time, and there were many signs at gas stations indicating that the stones were for sale. The sign that caught my eye read “Smoked Fish and Amethysts.” Further along the highway, Ernie Gill reported a near miss by a moose - yes, a female moose which stopped in the middle of the road to admire his car. After all, Ernie should be careful, as he was hit by a deer on the 1976 tour.

Several persons saw bears, one wolf, deer, and antelope, but in spite of the warning signs later in the trip, we saw no sheep or elk. There was a time zone line, changing us from Eastern to Central time, between Thunder Bay Dryden to the west. Several of us stopped for gas and lunch at a place called Meade’s of English River, where the dining room had two clocks - one for each time. They warned us if you sat on one side of the room, you would get a breakfast menu and on the other side, a luncheon menu.

We got into our stopover town, Dryden, early in the afternoon. Our motel was in an undesirable part of town, especially since the parking lot was adjacent to an all night bar. We were accosted by several Indians who appeared unfriendly as well as unsteady. Since some of our group was staying out of town at the Best Western, Ernie Gill, Solon Sprinchorn and I decided to move our cars up there. It was the exception to feel uncomfortable about our autos being outside unattended.

Kenora was our last stop in Ontario. We had traveled through 2,225 kilometers (about 1,390 miles) of lakes, rivers, rocks, hills and the special scenery that makes up the wide province of Ontario. In the United States it would be the equivalent of driving from Syracuse, New York to western Minnesota. Kenora’s Inn of the Woods was a surprise. It was a tall, circular glass structure, built out over the water of the Lake of the Woods that reaches into Minnesota about 70 miles to the south.

The summerses and the lowes at the holiday inn in winnipeg.

The summerses and the lowes at the holiday inn in winnipeg.

Line up of cars at the inn of the woods, kenora ontario.

Line up of cars at the inn of the woods, kenora ontario.

Leaving Kenora the following morning, we headed west on the Trans-Canada Highway, Route 17, which became route 1 on the Manitoba border. The countryside made its changes, too, from the hills of Ontario to the level swamp areas to the actual prairie country for which Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta are so well known. We were in Winnipeg within a few hours, and it gave the appearance of being a well laid out, business like city. There seemed to be a bank on every corner of the downtown section. On our rest day in Winnipeg, we were invited to a barbecue at the home of one of the members of the Manitoba Pioneer Auto Club. It was a great visit, and our host had collections of early gas pumps, license tags and anything and everything that pertained to automotive history. One member came in a well restored 1955 Packard Caribbean. He also collected brass accessories and came up with a 1912 Packard “18” gas lamp which could replace one Ernie Gill had lost earlier. It seemed an unlikely place to find such a rare headlamp, but you never know. The food and company were great. We thanked Gary Krushen and made our way back to our hotel to find that car #4 and its passengers, Whitney Snyder and Bill Roberts, had arrived from Pittsburgh.

Our only other night stop in Manitoba was Brandon, originally the site of Fort Brandon, the first Hudson’s Bay post in that particular area. Brandon was a busy commercial and agricultural center and the home of the Manitoba Agricultural Exhibition.

Whitney synder and guests in downtown moosomin.

Whitney synder and guests in downtown moosomin.

The next motel was an “on your own” one and, like so many small towns, it was to be well remembered. Its name was Moosomin, very small with not even a crossroad, but seemed to be a grain and cattle center because of its location on the C.P.R. In the afternoon, the Illinois group got a watermelon and we had a combination picnic and kite-flying display. One nice thing about small towns is that what conveniences there are, have to be nearby. The laundromat was just across the street, the hardware store was next to the drug store about a half a block away, and the Chinese Restaurant was within walking distance.

All of Saskatchewan seems to have been planted in wheat or other small grains, except those fields taken up for pasture. It was interesting that the Province had put huge culverts at various wash or gully areas and the farmers drove their cattle through the culverts under the road to change them from field to field. We made our way to the Hotel Saskatchewan, one of the fine old Canadian Pacific Railroads hotels. It is in downtown Regina, the capital, and was recently redecorated for the impending arrival of the Queen.

Our progress west seemed slower every day as the temperature increased and so did the headwinds. It is hard to push a 5,000 pound car into a 60 mph wind. One day I purchased a record $66.00 (Canadian) worth of gas. We were headed for Swift Current, had some long grades out of Moose Jaw and got a flat tire near Uren. By good fortune, Harry Doolittle and his friends came along and helped me change it. It was only my second flat in thirty years of antique car driving, the last being on the 1971 Glidden Tour. The Rodeway Inn in Swift Current was an overnight stop, and then we motored through more windy and hot prairie across the Alberta line to Medicine Hat. From there it was 180 miles to Calgary, which we were able to make in a long day’s drive. In Calgary we stayed at the huge Sheraton Cavalier near the airport, where several new passengers arrived to join the tour.

It was a great sight to see all the cars assembled together in the enclosed parking lot next to the hotel. Naturally, a lot of bantering went on while brass got polished, cars were cleaned up and the advice of the expert mechanics was much in demand. The outdoor outlets designed for warming car engines in the winter, proved handy for charging batteries.

One of the nicest things that happened on our trip was that several Old Timers should up at different checkpoints to visit us. Of particular interest was the welcome visit of the Sidney Strongs from Atwater, Minnesota, who had come to the area for their sixtieth wedding anniversary at Lake Louise, where they had honeymooned in 1925! Their original date didn’t quite coincide with our trip, so they changed their plans to be with us in Calgary and Lake Louise.

The oldest car on the trip deserves some special mention, too. Herb Lederer had only recently purchased his 1907 Packard Runabout and it is not only rare, but a real beauty. Due to the old age of some of its parts, problems developed. By Sault Ste. Marie, his valves were burnt to a point where they barely performed their function. Dr. Gill and his associates were able to get things back together, even refacing the seats. Bearing problems had begun to develop before Calgary, and several trips to Ron Carey at J & L Supply, who was a great help to many of us in many ways, put things back in running order. They poured and bored new babbitt bearings for the old Packard.

Calgary, Gulf Canada Ltd., the Alberta Pioneer Auto Club and Chief Planner, Reg Collings, and his team were good to us. On Monday a bountiful breakfast was put on by the local auto club. Juice, pancakes, sausage and coffee were cooked and served from a chuck wagon in the parking lot to the entire group. It was certainly a unique and enjoyable affair. Later in the morning, volunteers drove and lectured in the rubber tired trolley, giving excellent tours of the City of Calgary. That afternoon we left for Heritage Park on the far side of the city - a Pioneer village complete with a paddle wheeler, a full scale C.P.R. locomotive and passenger cars, a turn of the century hotel and other buildings and exhibits. It is an ambitious project, well done. Following a pleasant afternoon at Heritage Park, Gulf of Canada hosted a great barbecue dinner for all the tourists as well as their guest-passengers.

Cars go over the mountains, but trains often go through.

Cars go over the mountains, but trains often go through.

Lake Louise is a most awe-inspiring gem of nature. Words on paper just can’t do it justice. Colored photos are the best, but the combination of glaciers, mountains, trees, water and shadows are impossible to duplicate. The old C.P.R. Chateau Lake Louise is just as elegant as it always was. The tour stayed at the Lake Louise Inn, a few miles away from the Lake, but the mountains and flowers were still there for us to see. It is a ski resort inn and worked out fine for us, especially since it had a laundromat. During the afternoon, Judy Henry and Dr. Bob Collins, Weasie and Jim Kamihachi rented canoes and paddled around Lake Louise.

The larry kraus family gives thumbs up from their 1914 Pullman.

The larry kraus family gives thumbs up from their 1914 Pullman.

The first major town after lake Louise was Banff, and it was well worth the short visit. The town was thriving with summer tourists, and the steep mountains came down to the very edge of the streets. It was a 100 degree day and the 700 fires reported to be burning in British Columbia must have been dreadful for the firefighters. Much of British Columbia was suffering from severe drought and forest fires. Our first pass was Kicking Horse (5,435 feet). The problem of getting roads through the Rocky Mountains was hard. Even Mohammed couldn’t have gotten a railroad through Kicking Horse Pass. The C.P.R. engineers designed and built tunnels and the railroad actually crossed over itself two times. This project required 8.2 miles. The engineering feat of building a spiral tunnel inside a mountain was new in railroad construction. The second pass was Rogers (4,380 feet). They were nothing like the 11,000 feet Colorado passes that we climbed in 1982, but they were still long climbs on a hot day. We stopped for lunch on top of Rogers Pass. It seemed a good place to let the car cool off. When I returned to the car after lunch, pleasantly refreshed, I was accosted by a Park Ranger and was told that my car had leaked oil on the parking lot pavement. After explaining that all old cars leaked, as they had no seals, I was told to clean up the mess. The Ranger did not stand around in a supervisory capacity, but helped with the mop up.

Bob lewin’s 1910 buick.

Bob lewin’s 1910 buick.

We kept on the Trans-Canada Highway, which was about the only road around, and got to Revelstoke early. It was a little over 100 degrees and the swimming pool felt great. Crowds of townspeople came to look at the cars and stayed until well after dark.

The road from Revelstoke to Kamloops offered all kinds of challenges. It was up and drown, very crooked and twisty. Close attention had to be paid to driving. The town of Craigellachie drew its fame from one particular event in history. On November 7, 1885, Donald Smith, an official of the Canadian Pacific Railway, drove the last spike at Eagle Pass, to complete the world’s longest railroad. An hour later, noises developed in our drive train and we stopped at Salmon Arm. After adding some 600 W and other grease to the universals, things quieted down and we made the next 50 miles into Kamloops smoothly.

Kamloops was an early steamboat trade center. The road led west to Cache Creek and then turned directly south to take us through the spectacular Thompson River Valley and the Fraser River Canyon. Kamloops Lake, all 25 miles of it, offered some great scenery. The road hugged the sides of the Thompson River until Lytton where the Fraser River merged. The Fraser River Canyon was a pretty scary drive, but beautiful to see, and it made one wonder how they ever built the railroad up the side of the canyon.

One of the first towns we came to after many miles was called Boston Bar. We gassed up, ate there and after a few miles came to Yale, Choate and finally Hope! Hope was an “on your own” night, but at least half of the tour must have stayed there. Our hostelry was called the Inn Town Friendship Motel. The German-speaking Czech owner went out of his way to be disagreeable, even checking our rooms to see if we were wiping our cars with his towels. Although Hope was a relatively small town, it had its position of importance before the railroads. Large freight boats could come up to Hope on the Fraser River, but no further because of the rapids in the gorge above Hope. Wheat and lumber were the main export products.

The road from Hope to Vancouver paralleled the Fraser on its way down to the Pacific Ocean. Snow capped mountains were on both sides of us, and the farmland in the valley enhanced the setting. We were getting to the end of a month long association with Canada, and it had been a very pleasant one. Canada had been good to us and the Canadians very helpful in our hours of need. Mechanical expertise was there in urgent situations.

Our entry into Vancouver was smooth for a large city, and it was interesting to see the huge preparations for Expo ‘86. The Expo, together with the 1988 Winter Olympics, should keep Western Canada in the forefront for a couple of years. Our stay in Vancouver gave us an opportunity to see the sights, purchase tickets for our return home and see the local waterfront of this old seaport city. There was lots of oil changing, for friendly Quaker State had shown up again for the final distribution of free oil.

The morning broke clear and we enjoyed the 80 degree seacoast weather. One always thinks about the other fellow having terrible breakdowns, but somehow you never think about having a bad one yourself - nothing as disastrous as stopping up the mile long Fraser River Tunnel. A wire in my magneto, leading to a short in the bakelite cap, burned in half and the Packard stopped dead. Horns behind us were to no avail and we just sat there helplessly. The B.C. Tunnel patrol apparently had us on their television monitor, sent in a tow truck and pulled us out in 10 or 15 minutes - or was it hours? By great good fortune Chief Magnetomen Gill, Grundy and Snyder happened along, quickly diagnosed the problem, and with parts from my spare magneto, rebuilt a whole one that made the motor sound like music. We motored south on Canada 99 and at the border of the United States it turned into I-5. There was little or no delay at the Border Patrol Office. Actually, we didn’t even have to get out of the car. We gassed up and reached Tacoma in time for a swim.

The following morning was July 17th. It was the final day of our tour. I overheard one of the teenagers say to a friend: “I guess all good things must come to an end.” It was hard to believe that a nearly 4,000 mile trip could come to an end so soon. We were off for Portland and made the trip in a comfortable five hours. Our motel, the Thunderbird Inn, was located on Hayden Island in the middle of the Columbia River, barely 100 yards into Oregon, but here we were in Portland, Oregon.

whitney synder gives millard newman advice

whitney synder gives millard newman advice

The evening banquet was masterfully run by Millard Newman, and the prize for the car with the most points went to Herb Lederer for his 1907 Packard, in spite of all his trails and tribulations. All other drivers received a beautiful walnut plaque, showing our entire route across Canada and labeling the checkpoint stops. After all, anybody who finished such a trip was a winner. There are always tough circumstances, and Bud Josey developed a cracked block midway on the tour, Likewise, Whitney Snyder was unable to start the tour for personal reasons, but joined us in Winnipeg and made the last half of the trip. A tour plaque was carefully cut in half and each unlucky participant was awarded half.

Our thanks go to all of the clubs that so kindly entertained us and helped make such a monumental trip so enjoyable. We had geographical groups from North, South, East and West of the United States who gave Restoration Hour parties to encourage the Transcontinental Tourists to get together and know each other better. Thanks, too, to all the talented engineers who helped their fellow drivers in time of need. In Canada we are grateful to the Manitoba Classic & Antique Auto Club, especially Gary Krushen who organized the picnic in Winnipeg. Thanks, too, to the editor, publisher, snooper, typist, and reporter of the Tattler, the only 35 cent newspaper that is free. It has been published semi-occasionally for the past six Transcontinental tours and Judy Henry does her best to report what she sees and hears. Her esteemed assistant, Solon Sprinchorn, did a valiant job in transporting the Tattler news box from point to point. He never lost it. Last, and most important, our thanks to Millard and Maggie Newman for all the time, effort and planning put into the trip.

Final destination was the thunderbird Motor inn in Portland, oregon.

Final destination was the thunderbird Motor inn in Portland, oregon.


Additional Photographs Taken in Vancouver, B.C. Canada

Provided by Ken Findlay