Canyon Driving's Capitol of the World! Driving aces, welcome! To obtain cartography for your next driving event, toggle here: Map Library. To check or post canyon driving advisories, toggle here: Advisories. If you've received our invitation, then toggling here: Mulholland Raceway.

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P u b l i c _L i n k s :

_W_E_L_C_O_M_E__

...to our corner of the information superhighway! _

 

Kudos to slide-ways Paul for sending this in! He had this in his wallet... for 25 years! Thank you, Paul!

 

 

Driving Aces, Welcome!

 

~ There are two types of sports car enthusiasts: Those who buy sports cars and go fast, and those who buy them because they want people to think they go fast. The former comprises the basis of an exclusive driver's group dedicated to putting our good rubber down. We host the most remarkable canyon driving events on this planet. Dedicated to sports car driving in its purest, most innocent form, we enjoy hard core, no prisoner's, 10/10ths canyon driving. If you've received our invitation, and would care to join in on the fun? Then, by all means, jump in. We'd love to have you. We're not a "club." There is no membership. We don't want your money. Everything is always free... Everybody's a regular guy.

 

~ Holding one of our invitations? Bronze it. That is our most sincere form of flattery.

 

~ Brave tales spawned from within an island geologic anomaly attribute to a mystique under headlong erosion as a function of perpetual suburban encroachment. Once a haven ruled by motorcycle gangs during the 1950's, its heyday as capitol of sports car culture, circa the mid 70s, in part fueled by rumors that Enzo himself once sent factory drivers to shake down Ferrari prototypes on these roads in preparation for sanctioned events in the new world, waxed then withered in tandem with maturation of the boomer cohort, of whom scant few cut their teeth behind the wheel of sluggish single valve cafe racers, hammer and tongs, door handle to door handle, along a narrow asphalt swath that meanders through an island geological orogeny known as the Santa Monica Transverse Ranges, that which is universally renowned Mulholland Raceway.

 

~ Our group constitutes underground sanctuary for arguably the fastest canyon drivers in the world... Perhaps it's that handsome banker in the three piece suit, cordovan attaché, leisurely crossing the intersection? Or, that guy, over there, the one with with the long, ratty hair, reading the Wall Street Journal, crunching bivariate regressions on his graphic calculator over coffee in a trendy curbside Ventura Boulevard bistro? Is it the junior executive-type in that modest commuter car who politely opened a whole for you in rush hour traffic, when no one else would? Perhaps it's that bespeckled college professor, briskly striding across campus? Is it that guy, high up on the ridge rafter, joisting studs in erecting that new housing development? Could it be that attractive, civic-minded middle-aged Calabasas housewife, pushing her shopping basket, who secretly leads a double life? Or, perhaps it's that police officer who's leading a double life, the one who's chewing you out, up one side and down the other, writing you a ticket, for being a shit for brains driver?

 

~ You'd never otherwise pick us out of a crowd...

 

~ Navigating a narrow mountain pass, or scenic by-way, we'll find you. We'll fill your rear view mirrors, triggering competitive instincts within you to maintain relative distance, perhaps at extreme risk to a loved one riding passenger. You'll reach your modest limit trying to stay us off. But, it's futile. We'll reel you in at an alarming rate, pass you like you don't much matter, right over the double yellow should you be unreasonable, and not turn-out for us. We'll slide an outrider in front of you, slow you way down so the rest of us can pick you off, then we'll check out, as we subsequently disappear off into endless series of turns in the distance ahead. Good riddance to you... that is the last you'll ever see of us.

 

~ Some people play golf; some play tennis. We enjoy driving, in its purest, most innocent form. A postiori, we drive God's canyons... Pretty good at it, too.

 

~ Our driving events are noncompetitive, hard core, hard pavement enduros catering to Californians whom, from time to time, enjoy a spirited canyon romp in our high performance automobiles. Some events are at night; some are during the day. A rally is typically short of duration: under 300 miles. Also known as a fun run, our rallies won't necessarily usurp the entire day, or interrupt the majority of your weekend.

 

~ Our grand turismos will, and then some, with a lay over at a key geographic location, usually midpoint, where we'll lodge, dine, shop, and perhaps enjoy the accouterments whilst our machinery cools down for the evening. A gran turismo can often span a thousand miles across the desert southwest. We'll typically grid a rally or a gran turismo at a predesignated rendezvous, low profile one, enjoy each others' company, take the time necessary to critically assess our newcomers, admire each other's machines for an hour, maybe two, and perhaps have a bite to eat together. Thereafter, we strap in, crank over our engines, lace up the gloves, dial up the jammers, then put the hammer down, for a no-prisoners romp, across A-31 secondary black top that winds through remote temperate forest, desert or grassland, that ultimately ends -who knows where, be it an isolated rustic hamlet, a not so well known resort community, or perhaps some dive in the middle of nowhere.

 

~ Your money's no good here. Everything is always free. However, the word hairy is a time worn adjective which dilettantes bandy about in describing the fundamental nature of our driving events. If you lack experience behind the wheel, if you drive an overweight, boutique sports car, or if you're outmatched by your sports car, then participation in our events is hazardous to every aspect of your well-being. Our driving events may be a walk on the wild side for most, although we don't consider them so...

 

~ We think they're fun.

 

~ A modified vehicle is wholly unnecessary. Just so that it's a well maintained sports car, commensurate with your skill level, with fresh speed rated rubber. We advocate use, and proliferation, of lightweight vehicles. We recommend brake upgrades for overweight vehicles. We recommend modest headlamp upgrades for our night driving events. From participants, we expect a level of affluence attained by having lived under their own roof, and their own set of rules. Any executive worth his/her salt can easily afford a Ferrari. Skill level equated to vehicle selection, modestly so, we expect maturity, discipline, and restraint from our drivers (e.g., vehicle selection as a function of skill level, independent of annual salary, as opposed to level I drivers piloting Turbocharged Porsches). Our driver's group is intended for those who have been around the block a few times, not so much inclusive of car culture, but similarly so in the vernacular.

 

~ Ours is a gentleman's driver's group. Ladies are, indeed, welcomed as peers. However, we cut slack for no one. Where we discriminate is on the basis of religion, of which we formally recognize, but one: driving. Cars come and go. Driving is sacred. Slow pokes, back yard mechanics, tuners still sorting through their first hot rod, jock-sniffers, NASCAR fans, newsies, automotive aftermarket merchants intent upon landing on every "A" list in car culture, or those still living at home with their folks tend to find us, much less our events, not to their liking.

 

~ We once used business cards (they're now collector's items), or flyers, for which to tag cars. Now, we rely upon formal invitations. We'd otherwise hoped to erect this site to unite, via internet, with those who've drifted away over the years. Instead, internet people, out of the blue, knocked upon this door. And, we'd roll out the red carpet for them. But, internet isn't what it used to be. We don't get nice internet people, anymore. We get pent-up, over-competitive, type-A hot-heads intent upon bumping us off to enslave our mothers, wives, and daughters, crony bureaucrats & politicians selling-out our civil rights in hope of confiscating our cars, and Ponch & John, doing everything they can to bait us into a police pursuit.

 

~ Initially, internet people pushed the buttons, and we'd jump them in. After a couple weeks with us, they'd sober up, subsequently discover, indicative of standing at the edge of a steep cliff, ground breaking loose beneath them, that we are not your garden variety, kinder-gentler, divorced orthodontist's car club.

 

~ Thank God for ABS, didn't take long before it became necessary to slam on the brakes with regard to internet people. We'd otherwise prefer to be accommodating. We wish we could open the door, save who may, let some of these people in. Monitoring our guestbook? Scary. People, out of control. We erected this web site, exclusively, for hard core canyon drivers, not policy community busybodies, not newsies, not crony bureaucrats, not opportunistic politicians, not Ponch & John, and not little old ladies in th Seminole Springs Mobile Home Park with nothing better to do with their time, than propogate witch hunts. Five years, roughly 68 thousand hits, this site was once open access. Ponch and John turned-over every constitutional resource they can think of, to confiscate our web site content.

 

~ Policy community saw this site. And, they went berserk. Policymakers lost control of their faculties, began writing defective policy, in the spatial vernacular. But for no good reason, than the content here, in virtural reality, Ponch and John have set up roadside checkpoints, they've recurited government informants, embedded in the zero crime rate canyons, to single out sports car guys, in hope of confiscating our vehicles?

 

~ We did not carry this content down on tablets from the burning bush. Everything you'll find on this site is simple common knowledge, articulated in greater depth and detail elsewhere; does little more than bring common knowledge to a conscious level. Policy community could not handle it...

 

~ We maintain a low profile. Everyone in our group carry formal invitations. Just run one of us down, next time you see us. Drive canyons long enough, we'll find you. Drive canyons long enough, you'll recognize us, instantly, not by what we drive, but by how we drive. If you happened to receive our invitation? Bronze it. They are not easy to come by. We do not hand them out frivolously. In your lifetime, our invitation constitutes the sincerest form of flattery you will ever receive.

 

~ Carry a 12 foot by 12" by 1 inch board around to your back yard, lay it on the lawn, set a C-note upon it, dead center. It's a simple task to walk the plank, and bag the zero cost hundred dollar incentive. Raise that plank 70 stories? The 100 dollar incentive is reduced to pecuniary insignificance. Give us the best car, guarantee us pole position at Monza, stick us in the cockpit, race day. Cold? No practice? I'm sorry, but not one individual within our core group would score a world championship point for the Grand Prix of Italy. To drive Formula 1, you have to be a midget; you have merit support of a corporate tobacco advocate. Average stature, we wouldn't fit in the cockpit. But, every one of us would pocket that C-note, as if that plank lied flat on your backyard lawn. This is the real deal... some of the fastest canyon drivers in the world; a lean, mean, conservative, sincere, responsible, hard core group of affluent gentlemen, and ladies, who've been around the block a few times, who know what they're doing behind the wheel, rain or shine.

 

~ If you have our invitation, in-hand, welcome. We realize you'll have some soul searching to do with regard to our driving events. Take your time. You'll see a peculiar number handwritten atop the invitation. When you're ready, use it, below, drop in your letter of introduction, and your CV. Everything checks out, someone here will intercept you, usher you through the keyhole. You'll know you're through when four lengthy autoreply communiques have landed, on your e-mail client, which you'll have to drill down, and study read...

 

~ Don't shoot from the hip, with your introduction. Take your time. No hurry. Be honest. Don't try to impress us. Give this page a thorough active reading. Let it sink in. Write geometrically; read like an assassin.

 

~ Nothing prerequisite from you. Just be yourself. And, rest assurred: Fast company notwithstanding, kindest, most polite, well-mannered, patient, methodical, understanding, sincere, gracious, generous (...to a fault), responsible, fair-minded people you could hope to chance upon, you'll have to be lightning fast if you ever hope to beat any one of us to the dinner tab. Our people don't merely measure up in the nice-guy department. A complete idiot could otherwise be a nice guy. To the contrary, where it counts, unrivaled, unreproachable, unimpeachable rectitude, every driver in this group constitute a high quality human being you can count on, when the chips are down, for whom you would have no compunction, whatsoever, going door-handle to door-handle, much less entrust with your bank book, or wallet, should you misplace it.

 

~ Your money is no good, here...

 

~ We do yeoman's work ferreting out the flakes, newsies, troublemakers, crybabies, and the drunks.

 

~ Nothing demands more concentration, restraint, forethought, discipline, situational awareness, maturity, care, patience, and inner peace than 10/10ths canyon driving. Implications are awesome. This is the real deal: One lapse -- one mistake, poof, your financial life, as you know it? Gone. Forever. Infrequently, we bend up our machines (...if we don't go off every once in a while, means we're not trying). We expect our drivers to intimately know what they're doing behind the wheel, to have their houses in order, and to solely internalize the consequences of their life-style. We do what we can to ferret out those likely to spoil our fun. This is not a Fight Club. We want to nothing to do with those who still have something to prove. If you have unfinished business, in life, or behind the wheel, then go back to IMSA or SCCA, thrash it out, and finish it. Get it out of your system; get your head straight.

 

~ Then, come back, and we'll roll out the red carpet for you.

 

~ Our best recommendation? Go your own way. You don't need us. We put forth a modest degree of effort crafting our humble map library. Use it. Peruse our web site, export our principles from the modest series of associated web pages we've drafted for you. Apply what works; flush what doesn't. Then, venture into the canyons solo, every so often, take in the geography; enjoy your sports car they way it was meant to be enjoyed (...while you still can). You don't need us for that. Go places. Meet people. See things you've never seen. Put together your own group of sports car chums. Get together with like minded people, drive some canyons every so often, at your own pace. You don't need us for that.

 

~ Iff you have no misgivings whatsoever, and iff you insist upon joining in on our fun, then jump in, by all means. We'd love to have you. Remember: Your money's no good here. Everything is always free. Everybody's a regular guy. No one in our group will ever call you out, to "line-up." You will never (...NEVER) be criticised, or singled-out, by anyone in our group. If you are down for it, hammer down, no prisoners, wild-wild west, pedal to the metal, the real deal, 10/10ths canyon driving, then please allow us the privilege of properly welcoming you to heaven on earth. Beyond the pearlie gate below meanders, outstretched secant to the terminal end of your car culture life cycle, the fastest, most remarkable canyon driving events on this planet. Our next driving event will be posted soon... Come drive with us.

 

Toggle here, authenticate and complete the text fields: Jump In and join the fun!

 

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