Summer 1977

It was a red Ferrari 308GTB and Roy Reid was the proud owner.  Roy had wanted a Ferrari most of his adult life and after one failed attempt at a purchase a few years earlier he finally got what he had been dreaming for.  Roy or Kay, Roy’s wife, could be seen all over town in the car.  In fact you could see it coming for blocks.

The care and maintenance was, some might say, foolishly entrusted to a local mechanic, Rip Martin and his crew.  Sure, the big stuff would have to be done at the nearest Ferrari dealership, but the oil changes, tire repair and replacement and other trivial work could be done locally.

Dropping the Ferrari off one day for it to be readied for display at this year’s Design Conference, would be the last time Roy would ever sit behind the wheel.  Its fate was sealed.   Roy was a trusting man, perhaps too trusting.  Call it a fatal flaw or a lapse in judgment but whatever it was that day was not going to turn out the way he had planned.

With the work completed the mechanic took it upon himself to take it for a spin.  You know make sure the repair was completed and that the car was ready to go on display.  In the hours leading up to the delivery, a party had taken place at Rip’s garage.  Alan Drobnak, the mechanic, headed out of town towards Independence Pass instead of over to the west end where it was expected.  A short drive up the pass and back should be more than enough to certify his work and satisfy his desire to drive the car.  At some point while heading up the pass the delivery turned into a joy ride complete with a bottle of champagne.  Who could resist?  This was a Ferrari after all.

I remember this day well.  A couple of friends and I had decided to spend the afternoon up at the grottos.  Right above Difficult Campground on Highway 82 Roy’s Ferrari passed us by like we were standing still.  He must have been going 100 plus miles per hour.  Aside from being impressed at Roy’s willingness to “open her up” I did not give it much more thought.  We continued on to the Grottos as usual.

Meanwhile, Mr. Drobnak had taken the Ferrari up to Lost Man Campground in record time.  This was his turn-around point before heading back to town.  As he headed back west, with the car pushing 100 miles per hour or so, he headed into the “S” turns just below the Braille Trail.  These turns are particularly dangerous as they are known as decreasing radius curves.  What that means is that they get tighter the further into the curve you go.

Half way through the first curve the Ferrari and its “pilot” left the roadway hitting a very large Blue Spruce pine tree about 30 feet up.  The mechanic was uninjured, but the car was destroyed.  I think I would have been happier being incarcerated for what I had done rather than have to face Roy and let him know what had happened to his new car.

For years after the accident you could still see where the Ferrari hit the tree.  It was always a great reminder of the impending peril for those who ignored the warnings of the “curve ahead” signed posted along the roadway.