Do you remember the first racecar you ever lusted after? I’m not talking about the “Oh, I’d love to own that car,” kind of puppy-love lust. I’m talking about that full pubescent, deep burning desire in the pit of your stomach kind of lust where you know you’d commit almost any kind of unspeakable act to have the object of your desire. For me, it was an E-Type.
The question was “What car to restore?” I was going through a British car period and my friend was big into vintage BMWs. So we went out to a local historic race to reconnoiter the then state of play. At the time, my connections where in the Triumph world, so I pretty well knew that this was where we would most likely end up, but we wanted to see what else might be possible. Then primal lust set in.
