1959 Alfa Romeo

What if the Mille Miglia hadn’t ended in 1957? The breeze is already warm, rustling the full, green leaves just enough to let the the orange glow of the coming sunrise through. The metal handle is cool to the touch. A click, and the featherweight door arcs quietly out. The leather creaks as the driver lowers himself into the seat, the car rocking slightly on its springs, only to settle back into a purposeful stance. The familiar routine - a click of the key, the whiff of fuel reaching its target, a dab of the accelerator, and a final crank of the key. The silence of an Italian dawn is broken, as it is across the country, by the whoomps! of Webers gulping the air, checking its density, and the ripping exhaust gases, as a thousand explosions escape into the morning. It’s the Mille Miglia, as it would have been...1959. What would one man do to prepare a car for this, the greatest race? Well, if that man is an American, of a certain age, he would build this. As much a paean to the Hot Rods of his youth as it is to the Barchettas of his dreams, it is a one-off 1959 Alfa Romeo Giulietta. He would, of course, cherry pick Alfa Romeo’s incredible heritage for the best engine, and fill it with the best parts. A 1600cc with Veloce cams and twin Weber 45 DCOEs will do nicely. A modern ignition makes too much sense not to do. In keeping with the subtle attempts to add a touch more of a modern feel to the driving experience, we’ll need another gear. In goes the sweetest shifting 5-speed from the later Giulia Veloce. The joyous, metallic snick-snick of a perfectly timed shift would be lost on someone raised on video games. It is mechanical perfection, shimmying through the aluminum ball, gently cupped in the palm of your hand. In your other hand, the ideal compliment, a handmade Nardi wooden steering wheel, alive with feedback, wriggling with information. All analog. No digital. Let’s follow the time honored racer’s tradition and lose some weight. Out goes the top. Out goes the side glass. A Barchetta is born. Simple and light, focused and beautiful. And the beauty can never be underestimated. But it can be highlighted, subtly, tastefully. The big chrome bumpers quietly make an exit. Like any good hot rodder would do, the seams are shaved, the now extraneous mounts smoothed into the contours. And what contours, the Platonic ideal of the small Italian Sports Car. For years, this car has been one man’s baby. He has driven it, loved, tuned it to its sweetest state, and ultimately decided to let her go. A true dream car. A dream of what could have been, a hot rod Alfa as it might have run the Mille Miglia. A true one-off. A true beauty.