The 1979 Can-Am Transcontinental Reliability Tour - Key West, Florida to Halifax, Nova Scotia
/Written by Howard G. Henry. Photos by the author. Originally published in The Bulb Horn, 1979, Volume XXXX No 5-6.
By June 17, 1979 a dedicated group of shiny and polished vehicles had arrived from 16 states in 53 pre-1915 antique automobiles to converge on Key West, Florida, the southernmost city in the United States. Some drove their cars from home, some trailered them, some had them shipped and other brought them by truck. It was a beautiful array of the finest road worthy cars ever gathered.
In the morning the technical committee, headed by chief technician Ernie Gill and several experienced assistants, inspected all the entries, checking lights, steering, engine compartment, running gear, wheels and most important brakes. With few exceptions the cars were found in good condition. Several recommendations were made and mechanical adjustments were effected. The Sun was punishing and the heat was over 100 degrees.
That evening we had our first “restoration hour” at 6:30 followed by a banquet at the Casa Marina Inn. Millar Newman, our master planning tour director, opened his remarks with “Welcome to the equator”, and laid down the general rules for our journey to Halifax, emphasizing safety, courtesies of the road and suggestions for keeping our gas tanks full. In addition to the 53 starting automobiles, Miller had arranged for a Tour Marshall, helpful Bill Davis, in a 1952 Bentley, Tom and Eileen Jevcak, tour photographers par excellence, and John Blue, special Marshall for helping us through the gasoline crunch.
Amidst the fumes of gas, oil and steam, the cars cranked up at 9am on July 18th and we all headed out of Key West for the Florida mainland and points north. Southernmost U.S. 1, the Keys Highways, is pretty narrow and congested when crossing the islands and landfills, but the bridges leave the least possible room to pass. The Seven Mile Bridge is a real nightmare for breakdowns and the unhappy distinction fell to Earl Young and his Moline to grind to a halt three miles out on the bridge. Bill Winslow promptly took over as traffic director, aided by the drawbridge that had opened a mile to the north. The troubles were found and fixed and all moved on. It was a hot and humid day, 84 degrees by 9:45am and nearly 100 degrees by noon. Key West was the only place I saw where the red dye in the motometer actually went down after the car was started. Most of us stayed in the Miami area the first night.
Tour chairman millard newman’s 1911 rolls-royce silver ghost touring, veteran of all four transcontinental tours.
June 19th was another warm, sunny and humid day and we came to Fort Lauderdale in a few hours. Several drivers thought their cars were backfiring while passing through Miami, but actually it was the police shooting at a man on a roof top from a helicopter. It appeared their aim was accurate. When we got to the Lauderdale Surf Motel, the Quaker State representatives were on hand to provide us with a generous amount of SAE 50, 20W-50 and other oils and greases needed for our trip.
solon sprinchorn’s 1914 chalmers touring at disney world. solon is at left and helen sprinchorn over the hood.
The “Big Event” was a special evening at Jerry Rolph’s home, co-hosted by the Fort Lauderdale Region AACA. Our hosts generously provided food, punch, an orchestra, plus tours of Jerry’s car collection and comprehensive library of automotive history. His yacht was tied up next to his house for all to visit and dancing continued on into the evening.
By June 20th in Northern Florida, gasoline was beginning to get tight. We motored up impressive A-1-A, skirting the homes of wealthy winter visitors in the Palm Beach-Stuart area. We had our first real breeze and the cars seemed to run cooler and better. This writer was able to purchase only $4.00 worth of gas in the area - enough for less than 50 miles.
Tom Lester invited us for coffee and doughnuts at his Lester Vintage Cars complex in Deerfield Beach. There, Tom has an outstanding group of rare and beautiful cars, housed in a spotless building. Tom provided services for the tourists, including some expert tire-changing.
We pulled in Vero Beach about 4pm and turned West toward the Holiday Inn, only to hear from two passing motorists that one of our group had been hit and the car damaged. It turned out that Dick Hovey and Jerry Durham had an accident with a front-end loader being towed by a truck. Dick was bruised and Jerry suffered a broken leg and other complications. The tough thing for Jerry was that he had broken his hip only recently en route from Pasco, Washington to Key West. He had fallen from a trailer in Clearwater, Florida, where the hip was pinned ad Jerry had been well on his way to recovery.
jim thomas makes some adjustments under his 1913 Knox touring with patriotic paint job.
On June 21st we headed north through the beautiful rolling Florida farmland toward Orlando. There were large cattle ranches, splendid orange groves and the Central Florida scenery was a rewarding change. We arrived at Disney world and contemporary hotel early, which gave us, along with the following rest day, our first real chance to change oil, grease cars, fix tires, polish, wash clothes and generally put things in order. Disney World was fun for young, classics and antiques alike. The parade along Main Street U.S.A was well organized and the paddle-wheeler voyage and Luau were memorable.
Ernie gill here helps change a tire on millard newman’s 1911 rolls-royce at grove park inn, ashville, north carolina.
Heading north once again, our route took us to the Daytona Speedway where participants had the opportunity to circle the celebrated oval. It was on this day that we lost the gorgeous Mercedes Benz and the Henry Petronis team to an ailing clutch. The evening of the 23rd brought us to ancient St. Augustine and the elaborate Ponce de Leon Motel.
The 24th was col and we had an early start for the Orange Park Kennel Club where brunch was hosted by the Model A Restorer’s Club, Gateway Chapter and they were, indeed, generous and friendly. Antiquer Jerry Foley arranged the stop and greeted us in his Mercer Runabout.
Having run over all the dead armadillos in Florida, we passed into Georgia near Folkston, through pine forests, extensive tobacco farms and cornfields. Later that evening at the laundromat in Baxley, Emmy Peterson, Diane Grundy and Judy Henry heard a rundown of our trip on the radio.
The following day, June 25th, brought us further up route 1. Here the farms specialized in soybeans, onions and large fields of sunflowers. Judy and I stopped at a small wayside eatery whose specialty was fried catfish from the nearby Altamaha River. Unfortunately they were out of this delicacy, so we had southern ham, eggs and, of course, grits. A local talkative wag remarked, after he had seen our car and others that passed by, “People must look at you as if you had lost your morals.” We can only surmise and hope that he meant “marbles”. It was two long days driving through northern Georgia and South Carolina with a grand arrival at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, N.C. Many of the group visited “Biltmore”, the elegant 250 room mansion built by the late G.W. Vanderbilt. Back at the Inn we got hot, greasy and dirty changing oil, greasing cars and in general doing all the things that George Whitney Vanderbilt did not have to do.
The following morning we headed bright and early through downtown Asheville, turned left twice and were faced with a mountain climb that outdid many of the Rockies. Within an hour we had left the lowlands and passed upwards along the Blue Ridge Parkway, over Black Mountain Gap (elevation 5,168 feet), past Mount Mitchell (6,684 feet), Grandfather Mountain, Bowling Rock and on into Laurel Springs, where some of us spent the night at Buff Lodge. The Lodge was high in the mountains with a broad overlook over the hills and valleys, but as a branch of the Park Authority, it offered few conveniences. Luckily there was a restaurant at nearby Laurel Springs, where we dined, breakfasted the next morning and motored on up the incredibly rugged Blue Ridge Parkway. The steep descent from nearly 3,000 feet into Roanoke was sudden and destructive to overheating brakes, gears and tired automobiles. The Parkway had taken its toll. Before we had gotten to Luray, the Winslow 1906 Mercedes blew another tire in the pouring rain, Whitney Snyder lost his passenger, who tumbled out of the Simplex injuring his back, the Henry’s 1913 Packard chose to have its universal thump, and the beautiful 1906 McKinley National blew off one of its pots. Reliability was sorely tested in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
It took two days to cover the ground from Luray, VA to Oil City, PA. This included not only a lot of miles, but our introduction to the worst roads of the entire trip - the Pennsylvania Potholes -, which also took their toll. Our greatest gas crunch was in the Western Maryland areas of Cumberland and Frostburg. We passed fifty-two closed service stations before finding an open one. It closed before we could get to the tanks, but we found another station further along which came through with the gallons.
That night we stayed at the splendid Holiday Inn at Uniontown, PA., complete with indoor swimming pool, miniature golf, sauna, shuffleboard and other games that were a big hit with the younger set and parents alike.
We headed west and north to Pittsburgh, then across the Allegheny River to Sewickley. The nicest thing that happened during this run was the luncheon stop at Jean and Whitney Snyder’s beautiful estate. The Snyders were great hosts, opened their antique car museum, as well as the carriage house and provided home shop facilities, plus all kinds of mechanical aids to some of our weak and wayward autos. Whitney furnished a temporary home for the Peterson Oldsmobile, which caught up with us, alive and running in Montreal. It was good to have Emmy and Pete back to finish the trip.
Dr. and mrs. william newman II and grandson david, all from clarks summit, pennsylvania, were stalwarts and drove their 1911 chalmers without benefit of top or windshield.
brent campbell’s 1913 stanley steamer touring coming into the holiday inn, luray, virginia. melissa, his bassett, rides on the folded down top.
That afternoon we went on up the Allegheny River and arrived at Oil City, PA by mid-afternoon. It was a pretty drive along the river and our Holiday Inn Bordered right on the Allegheny. Oil City is the headquarters of Quaker State. The company officials were not only kind enough to give us a cocktail party with delicious hors d’oeuvres, but we received oil, grease and numerous mementos with which to remember Quaker State.
On July 3rd we went almost directly north for two hours to Jamestown, New York. The Chautauqua County Chamber of Commerce had arranged for a reception in our honor, parking and a lovely luncheon. Jamestownians had already met us with gifts and mementos when we entered the city. Solon Sprinchorn must be very proud of Jamestown.
That afternoon was warm and sunny as we motored through strawberry farms in western New York. It was hot and congested with traffic as we entered Buffalo and made our way to the Niagara Hilton. We had a welcome and interesting stop at Jim Sandaro’s Buffalo Motor Car Company. Jim thoughtfully provided for safe storage of all the antique cars on the very clean floor of the Civic Center. Jim, we hope those little splotches of oil didn’t cause any problems.
July 4th was a special day besides being our Nation’s birthday. It was clear and sunny as we crossed the Rainbow Bridge. The falls were spectacular as usual and we entered Canada with a minimum of red tape. The most notable change was that our world had turned metric - our speed limit was 100km, gasoline was sold by the liter (about 2.9 cents), bridge clearances were expressed in meters, a hot day was 29 degrees and the mornings started out a cool 17 degrees.
whitney snyder displays the broken axle from tom marshall’s stanley steamer, which caused tom some grief.
July 5th was a “rest” day. That meant changing oil, greasing cars, polishing brass, washing clothes and doing all the things that had been left undone. It was a happy day because both Brent Campbell and Tom Marshall in their Stanley Steamers had caught up with us after mechanical difficulties and a broken axle. In Toronto, Whitney Snyder found he had a broken left front main spring, but he and his friendly guest, Gideon La Croix fashioned a new spring, painted it green, installed it on the Simplex and were soon ready to continue.
Toronto went all out in expressing its welcome. We were cordially invited to be guests at two outstanding car collections. The first stop was at Mrs. John McDougald’s estate where we were treated to a wonderful Canadian breakfast. The setting was lovely, too, as we were “housed” in a beautiful yellow and white striped marquee. We also enjoyed the assemblage of massive classic cars and all the hospitality Mrs. McDougald provided for us. Another invitation took us to the Craven Foundation with a collection of antique automobiles spanning many years, plus a well displayed group of scripts, brass lamps and other automobiliana. Luncheon was served right there among the cars. Toronto treated us well. Ralph Turner deserves a word of thanks for coordinating all of our activities in that most hospitable city.
Herb lederer’s 1910 cadillac touring by the st. john river.
Our schedule allowed us two days to get to Ottawa. The E.F.D.s (Early, Fast and Dependable) group made it in one day. About a third of us spent the night in the attractive town of Peterborough. Our hotel was located on a lake formed in the Otonbee River. It was a post-card setting and not only was there a lot to see, but we had stumbled upon the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Peterborough Lift Lock, “the highest hydraulic lift lock in the world”. That evening we took a guided tour through the lock The dual lock system consists of two chambers, each of which contains 1700 tons of water. When the upper chamber filled with water, it came down and forced the opposite chamber up, with boats in it, to gain access to the canal level nearly 70 feet higher up.
The run from Peterborough to Ottawa was surrounded with low hills, numerous lakes, bogs and the greatest blueberry country in North America. The wild blueberry were the size of small cherries and delicious. Fred Haller acquired a basket of these berries and shared them with many of us. The early arrives in Ottawa toured the museums and other places of interest. Those that needed it serviced their cars. One that really need work on his car was Jim Conant, as his beautiful 1913 Locomobile had thrown a rod, resulting in severe damage. Manny Souza contacted a friend in Massachusetts who removed the rods, pistons, bearings and pan from Manny’s own Loco, chartered a plane from Ottawa, and by 3 a.m the Conant Loco was reborn, thanks to Wayne and Steve McKinley, Dick Staadt and the rest of the team of helpful experts.
On July 8th we left Ottawa. Our road paralleled the Ottawa River until we came onto the superhighway leading into Montreal. It was along this route that we saw our first and only “Moose Crossing” sign. On entering La Belle Province the language became predominately French, the flags blue with four fleur-de-lis and the people definitely French. The drivers were pretty wild and the traffic kept us on our toes. The triptik with directions into the city was somewhat confusing and many tourists had their separate private tours of Montreal, passing each other in all directions while on the way to the Chateau Champlain. Bud Stanley asked directions from a pedestrian who climbed on the running board and became a personal tour guide. Montreal is a beautiful and historic city with lots to see. Most of us could find some members of the group anywhere in town- in the underground shopping mall, downtown sightseeing, or in the garage working on their cars. Grant Ross and Howard Henry took the time and forfeited the money to bring their Canadian stamp collections up to date. It was a pleasant surprise to find Paul and Mickey Newcomer, three time transcontinentalist, who had driven over seven hundred miles to visit with us in Montreal. As we left the city, we were escorted to Normandie Island in the St. Lawrence River. There a Colonial Regiment saluted us with a round of musket fire. A tour of the grounds of the famous Montreal Expo followed. From there it was a level run down the south side of the St. Lawrence River to our motel in Ste. Foy on the outskirts of Quebec City.
On July 11th we left Quebec City for the 364 mile trip to Fredericton, New Brunswick. Our Route took us around the top of Maine and then southeast down the Madawaska and St. John River Valley, Riviere-de-Loup looked different to me than it did on my last visit 45 years ago, but it is still a picturesque French Canadian town - the gateway to the Gaspe. It was only a short drive to the 40 kilometer long Lac Temiscouta. Potato country and rolling hills were all around us. Many of us spent the night in Edmunston, N.B., only a couple of miles from the Maine border.
John and Andy Groundy - the latter a brand-new teenage enthusiast.
The following day we continued on down the St. John River valley, past picturesque towns, especially Hartland, home of the world’s longest covered bridge (1282 feet). That evening our checkpoint hotel was the Lord Beaverbrook situated on the broad St. John River. It was there that we celebrated Andy Grundy’s 13th and Whitney Snyder’s “annual” 39th birthday. Pat and Curt Blake, former transcontinental tourists, came from Maine to visit old friends and share in the festivities. Fredericton, the stately capital of the province of New Brunswick is its cultural center. It happens, also, to be the home of the world-renowned Fredericton Frog, seen by this writer in 1934 while on a fishing trip with his father. The huge frog was mounted in a glass case, which was displayed in the lobby of the Barker House. Nearly twenty years later on a revisit to Fredericton, both the Barker House and the frog were gone. The only evidence found was a Ripley Believe-it-or-Not postcard, portraying the late owner, Fred Coleman, and his beloved 5’4” frog, with his front paws on Mr. Coleman’s shoulders. For 25 years Howard Henry had been the object of derisive jeers from doubting listeners whenever he described the the frog. His delight was obvious when the giant creature turned out not to be a figment of his imagination, but was once again on display in his glass case in a Fredericton museum.
The remaining distance to Halifax was only 301 miles. The roads were good and the countryside was ideal for touring. Warren Weiant was heard to comment, “With scenery like this, who needs to go to Scotland?” The weather was warm, but dropped about 15 degrees F when a stiff breeze blew off the Bay of Fundy. The approach to Moncton was like any other city, except on the outskirts all signs pointed to Magnetic Hill. It is not too clear whether it was an optical illusion or a physical fact that the cars were affected by the magnetic forces of the hill.
The medium speed group - about half of the tourists - spent the night at Amherst, Nova Scotia, at the head of an arm of the Bay of Fundy. We worked on tired autos, borrowed tools, swapped stories and created our own restoration hour, thanks to the Grant Rosses. That evening we walked into a small inn to enjoy lobster and other seafood. We spent several days around the Bay of Fundy, but always missed the great tide. Even a side trip down Tidal Bore Road near Minas Basin, revealed only deep mud banks. The faous tide was far out.
The st. john river in frederickton, new brunswick provides a beautiful background for many of the tourists.
July 14th had finally come. Our month long, 3300 mile trek was about to end. It was with mixed emotions that we left Amherst for the final 150 miles to Halifax. It was a perfect summer day as we drove through hilly country and eventually came to the Chateau Halifax. Once again we could look out over the Atlantic ocean. Halifax was a friendly city and we appreciated their cordial reception.
The final banquet was held in the Baronet Room of our hotel, preceded by a restoration hour hosted by the Ohio tourists. There had been other lovely parties along the way. The New England group entertained in Toronto, the Ken Pearsons celebrated their wedding anniversary and Dale Westermeyers (with tongues in cheek) announced the engagement of their plaster lion, “H.H”.
Warren weiant, left, and ernie gill discuss the mcdougald collection of fine cars in toronto, ontario, canada.
Whtney snyder and gideon lacroix return with the repaired spring for the simplex.
There were awards for all the participants, but the main “trophy” was the satisfaction of being on the trip and actual completion of the route. The significant awards (only a few are included in this article) were: The number one hard luck trophy went to Jerry Durham, Pasco, Washington. It was kindly provided by Cars and Parts. The second hard luck trophy was Wayne McKinley’s for all the problems he had surmounted with his rare 1906 National. With one pot (head) and piston blown into pieces and another broken, he limped into Halifax on four cylinders. The number one tour award, thoughtfully donated by Karl Summer, Sr. went to the oldest car completing the trip without missing a checkpoint. It was won by nineteen year old Warren Winslow, who drove his father’s 1906 Mercedes-Benz the entire trip. In spit of numerous flats and other problems, Warren succeeded. The most outstanding part of the story is that Warren restored the Mercedes himself. The number two award from the Coker Tire Co. went to John Hovey in the 1907 Great Arrow. Tom Lester and Karl Summer, Sr. tied for the next prize, both driving 1908 cars. It is really impossible to express thanks to all the kind donors or to congratulate all the deserving recipients. Actually all of us that finished the trip were winners. Completing the tour was the ultimate reward.
Happily, Millard Newman had planned a post-tour activity. For those who wished it, we had an additional two day run south on Nova Scotia’s Atlantic Coast. We followed the Lighthouse Route, visited Peggy’s Cove, Chester, Lunenburg and many of the island studded bays in between. Our overnight stop was at the Oxbow Village Motel in Shelburne. The seaport town offered an interesting folk museum, early waterfront warehouses and an insight into what a colonial seaport was like for those who left the lower colonies during the American Revolution. It was a fun stop. That evening the Grundy’s put on a combined bonfire, marshmallow roast, songfest and games session.
On July 16th we continued south along the coast to Yarmouth, where we were greeted by the mayor, who presented us with miniature flags of Nova Scotia. Millard Newman was given a memento by the president of the Yarmouth antique car group. The next morning the rain and fog contributed to lots of extra cranking and pushing to get the cars onto the ferryboat “Caribe”. Tom Marshall’s steamer held its steam for the entire trip - thanks to the pilot light.
We made Portland, Maine, about 8pm and the daylight was fading as we unloaded from the “Caribe”. We cleared customs with a minimum of delay and were greeted by a Portland old car group who thoughtfully presented each of us a welcome package of mementos. It was a great trip.
Excerpts From The Tattler
It seems appropriate to quote a few scattered passages from the Can-Am Tour’s newspaper, “The Tatter”:
“Suspected Terrorist held in Chicago Airport! Bob Lederer missed his plane enroute to join his family in Ashville, when he flunked the security inspection at O’Hare. State Police, F.B.I and a S.W.A.T team held him and questioned him thoroughly concerning a suspicious mechanism in his luggage. Bob was finally released when he persuaded the authorities that the “bomb” was really a 1910 coil.”
Quotable Quotes: The name of the current tour should be amended to read the Can-Am Reliability Gas Finding Mission - John Blue.
The Tattler Editor took the following notes at a sidewalk café in Palm Beach Fla., in an interview between a lady journalist and Whitney Snyder: 1) This is the 4th Transcontinental Tour all the way from Key West to Disney World. 2) Now as to the gas (alleged) shortage - we are not concerned. These fine old cars were born long before oil was even thought of and they run on hydrodynamic magneto power, plus our reputation. 3) The steam cars are an exception. They are fueled by water and heat of which Florida has a sufficiency. 4) Reporter: “Why are you here?” Snyder: “Because we’re not all there.”
In Disney World - unsuspecting Wayne McKinley was lured onto Space Mountain by sadistic relatives. He survived the ride and commented nonchalantly that it was just like riding in the National.
Quotable Quotes: Corky (Simmelink) say “Millard must love to do Transcontinental Tours to make us so happy.”
Smokey the Bear Talked to Bob and Cathy Schill about smoking up the forests with their brakes.
Southern Hospitality, Ashville Style/Russ Benore looking for a spare fan belt for the Abbott, found a company whose owner insisted on making three - each of a different material. Payment, only a ride around the block for the female office staff.
Detroit engineers are designing a car small enough to conserve gasoline, yet large enough not to disappear in the Pennsylvania potholes.
The July 14 and final issue reported: Travel Troubles, Tom Marshall and Jules Reiver had to change their fuel formula when Kerosene became frustratingly unavailable. They are running on a mixture of diesel and Jergen’s Lotion. Steam cars, however, have two advantages - they have built-in laundromats and can cook lunch…Hubert Moineau threw three fan blades onto the highway on July 12. Riveting was completed and checkpoint attained on schedule. A broken shaft on the Pierce’s water pump may cause some delay in arrival today. (It didn’t!)… The Cole limped triumphantly into Halifax with distributor problems…The National has risen from the dead! It came into the Chateau Halifax on four of its six cylinders.
Poll of the week: Question: Are you anxious to get home? If so, why? Answers: 1) I need to go on a diet to get in shape for the next tour. 2) I miss my electric toothbrush. 3) I should face reality, whence I came. I am going home and sleep for three weeks. The other 90% of the respondents said they would rather keep on touring forever.
Happiness is a full tank, a full tummy, a fabulous trip. And that’s the way it was!!!!
