Julie, Scott, and I originally belonged to Le Vivo Machine, a chapter of the Bay Area group known as the Four Cylinder Club of America. All of the clubs in FCCA were focused on rallies and autocrossing. Gudundfast, on the other hand, was just a group of like minded souls. It wasn't that we needed a club. There were plenty of those around. In those days, incorporation and disclaimers were just getting started. No, Gutundfast was a group that was as much social as anything else. Events from this club consisted of member's-only rallyes and, once, a gymkhana. The club had no officers. There was no charter, meeting minutes, or anything of the sort. We just did stuff. Some of it was car related. We'd tour down to the Laguna Seca races for USRRC or the later Can-Am. In the early 1970's Dave raced a TR-4 in SCCA. This was not my Dad's red street legal car, but a real race car. I have some pictures of the car at Ontario, Sears Point, and at Riverside with the GTS banner on the front. We also did other stuff, like all get together at my folk's house and race the slot cars or go on tours together. I know that memories often seem better than the real events were, but these were good times.
Take the rallyes for instance. I was the rallyemaster on most of them. Those of you who have been on tours that I have done for other clubs may remember the bulletin board quizzes that ask that you identify racing cars or tracks. I did this in those days too, but as course markers along the route. I'd put a picture on a paper pie plate, staple it to a phone pole, and add the correct responses to the final score. It was not only important to find the right route but also to keep your eyes open! Instructions for these events were done on mimeograph. Remember mimeograph? This was way before the copy machine. The prizes we gave were always the same. First place was a jug of wine. Second was a loaf of bread and third, a block of cheese. Last place was a gag gift. We did one event where Jay was the lucky winner of a model of a '52 Chevy, shit brown in color. I still have the photo of him and his wife Meredith receiving the award (see The Rallyes). The smiles are as genuine as the sunshine was. No politics or posturing, just fun.
I have a photo scrap book of those days. Good Lord Almighty, we were so young. The cars looked great and it was clear that we were not troubled by much of anything. As time went on we drifted apart. Dave couldn't continue to fork out the big bucks that it took to race cars. He went on to AMA dirt track and I followed. Julie and her husband also got into motorcycles, but in trials and roadracing. She had sold the Porsche just before her marriage. After a divorce and a later remarriage she moved to Telluride. She still rides motorcycles. Scott moved from the Bay Area down to Monterey and began life as a carpenter. The TR-3 had been rear ended by a big Detroit car and he abandon it for a VW Microbus. He was my best man at our wedding. He now lives in the Santa Rosa area and still makes a living as a carpenter. He too still rides motorcycles, but I have not heard from him in years in spite of many attempts to contact him again. Bob went into the Navy and shipped out to the Pacific. When he got back home he worked for a number of firms and now works for Intel. He and his wife now live in Gilroy. Glen still lives in San Jose. He sold the Alfa and moved through a series of more reliable cars, eventually including a 911S. I used to phone him about once a year but it has been a long time since I have contacted him as well. His sister used to run a bike shop on the Oregon coast. Jay and Meredith got divorced and he moved back to Oklahoma to do whatever it is that people in Oklahoma do. We never saw much of Dale after his tour in Vietnam, but I recently re-established a contact with him and he and I exchange mail several times a year. I haven't seen Ron since about 1971 or so.
Those were indeed good memories. They are the days and the events that I think of when I dream about what sports car clubs should be. There are certainly reasons for incorporation, annual dues and the accompanying treasurer's report, and other such legalities. I really miss the informality of the old days though. I miss my friends.