A hand-picked release of automotive grails timed to Monterey Car Week. Automotive ephemera, curated moments from car culture, added daily through the week.
The wins and the mistakes. The good months and the quiet ones. Not a highlight reel, the actual record. And all the thoughts that come between.
The Friday before Car Week has a feeling you only understand once you have lived it. The transporters are unloading. The hotels are filling.…
Beat the traffic, find the free views, eat like a local. The full guide lands this week.
What people are really wearing trackside this year, shot on the ground in Monterey.
Where the locals actually park it before the crowds arrive. A field guide is coming.
The engines, the crowds, the paddock at dawn. Our first Car Week film is almost ready.
A one-of-a-kind release timed to the biggest week on the Peninsula. Limited pieces, no restocks.
A Detroit bank vault, a tiny company, and a Reasonable Doubt cassette. Why the best thing to do with something worth keeping is to…
I decided a while ago that if I was going to build this thing, I was going to build it where people could watch.…
There is a pair of 2001 Air Jordan 3 True Blues that I wore to American Le Mans and then never really wore again.…
I have come to believe the opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference. A night spotting cars in Akihabara, and everything they…
I was in Tokyo on a once-in-a-lifetime trip, walking around Shibuya jet-lagged and hunting for coffee, when a sign stopped me. Nothing flashy. Just…
The best meal I had in Tokyo came from a place with six seats and a chef who had, from the look of him,…
The Friday before Car Week has a feeling you only understand once you have lived it. The transporters are unloading. The hotels are filling. The whole peninsula is holding its breath before ten days of noise, and for one night none of it has started yet. That is the Kickoff. The calm before the storm. … Read more
Highway 1 locks up from about 11am to 4pm every single day of Car Week. Not slows down. Locks. The people who do this well don’t sit in it. Most of what separates a good Car Week from a miserable one is knowing that kind of thing before you leave the house. So I put … Read more
Everybody underdresses for this week exactly once. Then they learn. Pebble can sit at 55 degrees in fog you can practically taste while Laguna Seca is baking in the high 80s ten miles inland. Same afternoon, same person, if they drive between the two. So the real Car Week uniform isn’t a look, it’s a … Read more
It’s 7am at a gas station on Highway 68 and there’s a car here worth more than my house, taking on fuel like it’s a Tuesday commute. The owner is in a fleece, holding a coffee, half awake, standing next to something that idles like it’s clearing its throat. Nobody is performing. That’s exactly why … Read more
I’m standing at the exit corner of Spanish Bay at dusk with a microphone, and there are bagpipes playing on the lawn behind me while something with twelve cylinders idles past three feet away. Both sounds at once, layered, neither one giving way to the other. I don’t know where else on earth that specific … Read more
There is one of each. That’s the model, and some days it’s also the headache. When I find a piece, there is no second one in the back. No size run, no restock, no “let me check the warehouse.” The warehouse is a shelf. What’s here is what’s here, and when it’s gone it’s gone … Read more
The vault door is nine feet of steel and brass, and it has not closed in years. I took this photo in Detroit in 2017. This vault stays propped open with a little metal ramp, the kind you would wheel a hand truck over, and behind the door there was a red curtain and a … Read more
I decided a while ago that if I was going to build this thing, I was going to build it where people could watch. The wins and the mistakes. The good months and the quiet ones. Not a highlight reel. The actual record. So here is the record, as much as I can share this … Read more
There is a pair of 2001 Air Jordan 3 True Blues that I wore to American Le Mans and then never really wore again. Sears Point, 2001. The sky opened up and the mud got so deep that our car sat stuck in the parking lot long after the checkered flag. The shoes did not … Read more
It is almost eleven at night in Akihabara and the towers are still screaming light onto the street. Somewhere above me a billboard is selling a game I will never play. Below it, along the curb, the cars start to arrive the way they do most nights, one at a time, each one finding its … Read more
I was in Tokyo on a once-in-a-lifetime trip, walking around Shibuya jet-lagged and hunting for coffee, when a sign stopped me. Nothing flashy. Just enough to make me turn my head. And behind the glass, parked inside like it had every right to be there, sat a widebody Volkswagen Golf with its fenders flared out … Read more
The best meal I had in Tokyo came from a place with six seats and a chef who had, from the look of him, been making the same dish for longer than I have been alive. No menu to speak of. No decor to mention. Just one thing, done so well it reorganized my idea … Read more
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